The Life of Yakoob Beg; Athalik Ghazi, and Badaulet; Ameer of Kashgar

When an independent government had been founded in Kuldja in 1866, a ruler of the name of Abul Oghlan was placed upon the throne. He appears to have been a Tungan, and he certainly was a truculent and self-confident potentate. He refused to abide by the stipulations of the Treaties of Kuldja and Pekin, and in petty matters as in great, set himself in direct opposition to Russia. For five years he pursued his career undisturbed by exterior influences, and during that period he tolerated the inroads of his subjects into Russian territory, urged the Kirghiz tribes beyond his frontier to revolt, and forbade Russian merchants to enter his dominions. On a small scale, he aped the manners subsequently adopted by Yakoob Beg. But he was only a minor and insignificant despot. His people groaned under his tyranny, and the 75,000 slaves within his dominions were only too anxious to be relieved from their bondage by any deliverer whatsoever. The state of Kuldja, as administered by Abul Oghlan, was pre-eminently one that would fall to pieces at the first rude shock from outside. For five years, or thereabouts, the Russian authorities at Vernoe, Naryn, and in Semiretchinsk put up with his veiled hostility; but when it became evident that his state was on the eve of falling into divers fragments, of which Yakoob Beg would, probably, come in for the lion's share, the Russians, whose patience had become well-nigh exhausted, resolved not to be forestalled in Kuldja, either by the Athalik Ghazi, or the Tungani Confederation. A kind of ultimatum was presented to Kuldja, in which Abul Oghlan was given a last chance of retaining power, if he consented to ratify the terms of the past treaties with China. He does not appear to have distinctly refused to do so, when he was required to enter into this agreement with Russia. But he prevaricated and delayed, until at last the patience of the Muscovite authorities was quite exhausted. They resolved to destroy the government of Abul Oghlan, to annex Kuldja, and to bring their frontier down to the Tian Shan.

In May, 1871, Major Balitsky crossed the river Borodshudsir, which formed the boundary between the two countries, and, at the head of a small detachment, advanced some distance into the dominions of Abul Oghlan. His force, however, was small, and, after a brief reconnaissance, he retired within Russian territory. Six weeks afterwards the main body under General Kolpakovsky crossed the frontier into Kuldja and marched on the capital. That invading army consisted of only 1,785 men and sixty-five officers. At first the forces of Abul Oghlan offered a brave resistance, but the Russian cannon and rifles carried everything before them; and on the 4th of July the ruler presented himself at the Russian outposts. When taken before General Kolpakovsky, he said, "I trusted to the righteousness of my cause, and to the help of God. Conquered, I submit to the will of the Almighty. If any crime has been committed, punish the sovereign, but spare his innocent subjects." The next day the Russian general entered the capital after a campaign that had only lasted eight or nine days. Protection was promised to all who would lay down their arms, and the army of Abul Oghlan was disbanded. Abul Oghlan was pensioned, and Orel was appointed as his place of residence. Kuldja or "Dzungaria," as it is called in the proclamation, was annexed "in perpetuity," and became the Russian sub-governorship of Priilinsk. There can be no doubt but that the Russian occupation of Kuldja was an unqualified benefit to the inhabitants of that region. The declaration of the abolition of slavery alone released seventy-five thousand human beings from a life of hardship and hopelessness. The return of trade, which had become stagnant, ensured the prosperity and advancement of the active portion of the community, and during the seven years Russia has ruled in Kuldja, the people have steadily progressed in moral and material welfare. The population has during the same period remarkably increased, and the valleys of the Ili teem with a population at once contented and prosperous. The rule of Russia in Kuldja is the brightest spot in her Central Asian administration. The Chinese in demanding the retrocession of Kuldja labour under the one disadvantage that they come to oust a beneficent rule. This disadvantage is made the greater by the bad name the Chinese have earned in Kashgar and the Tungan country, by the atrocities they are said to have committed. Those who will take the trouble to scan the matter carefully, and to consult the Pekin Gazette, as much as they do the Tashkent, will find that these atrocities are for the most part the creation of panic, and of malicious observers, and in the few cases where Chinese vindictiveness overcame military discipline, as at Manas and Aksu, we have clear evidence that women and children were spared. The Tashkent Gazette has laboured strenuously, and not in vain, to disseminate the report of Chinese atrocities; and one London paper has so far assisted the object of the Russian press in raising a feeling of indignation against China, on account of these reported massacres in Eastern Turkestan, that it has placed translations of these charges before the English reader, and, on the authority of the Tashkent Gazette, has indicted and summarily convicted the Chinese of the grossest acts of inhumanity. We would venture to suggest, that in common fairness to the Chinese this journal should place before its readers the temperately worded and dignified reports that have appeared in the Pekin Gazette of those events upon which the Tashkent Gazette has commented so indignantly.

As we said, the Chinese are fully resolved to regain Ili. They may not be able to induce Russia easily to surrender it, yet they will not despair. In all probability they will fail altogether to re-acquire it by diplomatic means, yet they will not omit to employ all the artifices that are sanctioned by modern diplomacy. There have been rumours that China intended handing over to Russia a strip of territory in Manchuria, which would give to the Russian harbour of Vladivostock a land communication with the forts on the Amoor. But this rumour had no solid foundation, and the latest intelligence goes to show that China's successes beyond Gobi, instead of making her moderate in the north, have given her confidence sufficient to arouse her into a state of opposition to further encroachments on the part of Russia in that direction. It is now said that Russia demands pecuniary indemnification for the money she has expended in raising Kuldja to its present highly prosperous condition; and at a first glance nothing could seem fairer, nor do we think that the Chinese would have raised objections to the payment of a moderate sum. But the sum demanded by the Russians is far from moderate. The exact amount has not been mentioned, but the Chinese declare that it exceeds the total cost of the campaign in the north-west, and that certainly was not less than two millions sterling. This is, of course, too exorbitant, and is only put forward as a reason for declining to abide by her former agreement, and to give her diplomatists a locus standi in their discussions with the Chinese representatives. A Chinese Embassy has been authorized to proceed to St. Petersburg, and to endeavour to effect an understanding with Russia upon the Kuldja question; but it does not appear to have started, and the real settlement lies in the hands of Tso Tsung Tang and General Kaufmann. The latest report is that the former has demanded afresh the restoration of Kuldja; the Russian reply is awaited with eagerness and some anxiety. In the meanwhile the Chinese have suffered a local reverse of no significance at the hands of a chief of Khoten, and their power does not seem to extend south of Yarkand. But they are hurrying up reinforcements, and 20,000 fresh troops had reached Manas some weeks ago. They have also an extensive recruiting ground amongst the Calmucks, and their position of Chuguchak might be of great strategical importance. If the Kuldja question give rise to a Russo-Chinese war, the Chinese are sufficiently numerous and sufficiently prepared to task the capacity of an army of 20,000 Russians; and it is quite certain there are not 5,000 in Kuldja at present. But the Kuldja question, despite the prominence it has attained, is only one, if the most important and pressing, of those questions that are raised and suggested by the appearance of the Chinese in Central Asia. More especially is this the case if, as can scarcely be doubted, the Russians refuse to restore Kuldja; yet the Chinese, knowing the strength of their adversary, shall hesitate to attack where they cannot but recognize that the penalties of failure must be immense. In that event the Kuldja question will long remain unsolved, and for a time perhaps it will be forgotten. But the Chinese will not forget, nor will they condone the offence. But whatever may be the interval, and however great the delay, the Kuldja question will continue to remain a most important portion of Central Asian politics, and must, so long as it is unsettled, operate in a manner adverse to the interests of Russia. The Chinese need only maintain their camps at Chuguchak, Karakaru, Manas, Aksu, Ush Turfan and Kashgar, and slowly bring up reinforcements from Kansuh and from the Calmuck country, to render Russia's hold on Kuldja dangerously insecure. In fact, in this matter the Chinese have the game in their own hands, and can play a waiting game; whereas Russia can only hope to profit by precipitation on the part of Tso Tsung Tang. If the Chinese refuse to hold any intercourse with the faithless Russians, and simply content themselves with the declaration that they cannot re-enter into political or commercial relations with them until Kuldja is retroceded, Russia can never rest tranquil either in Kuldja, Naryn, or Khokand. Above all, so long as she is occupied in Western Asia as she is at present, she could never dare to cross the path of China, and enter upon a war which would rage from Vladivostock and the Amoor to Kuldja and Kashgar. Therefore the settlement of the Kuldja question is not such an easy matter as might be supposed; nor does it find Russia so strong or China so weak as might have been expected. But after all, as we have just said, the Kuldja question is not the only one suggested by the appearance of the Chinese in Eastern Turkestan. There is the far wider one raised by the appearance of the Chinese as a factor in the great Central Asian question. The three great Asiatic Powers have now converged upon a point; what is to be the result?

The only way to be in a position to venture upon a surmise as to the future, is to realize in its full significance the lessons of the past. What have been the mutual relations between England, Russia, and China? We have assumed throughout this volume, and we shall assume here, the irreconcilable hostility of England and Russia, in Asia at all events, veneered over as it is by a lacquer of politeness and civilization. We have only to consider the relations between England and China, and between Russia and China. To take the latter first, they have always been united by ties of friendship and reciprocity in commercial and political rights. Their intercourse has been on the whole singularly harmonious, and while we have been compelled to wage three wars to obtain a standing for our merchants in the seaports, Russia, without being compelled to resort to anything like the same extreme measures, has been able to secure all she, or her merchants, wanted in Middle and Western China. She has made the Amoor a Russian river; she dominates the Yellow and Japanese seas from Vladivostock; and she has acquired in her position among the Khalkas, and in Kuldja, two portals to various weak points in the Chinese Empire. Yet all the time she has been on terms of the closest amity with China. She has several commercial treaties of the most favourable character, and she has always been on the footing of "the most favoured nation." But she has been more than that; she has been the most favoured nation. But the Chinese have not failed to observe that this good understanding with Russia has, so far as advantages arising from it go, been a very one-sided affair. For all Russia's protestations of friendship and good-will, what advantages has China reaped from those high-flown promises? Whereas, the patriotic Chinaman has but to look to the Amoor, and to the attenuated province of Manchuria, to see what Russian friendship means. He can go farther still. He has only to enquire into the relations Russia has managed to conclude with the Taranath Lama; he has only to hear what the people of Ourga think of Russia's position in the vicinity of that important city; and he cannot fail to form a very clear and decided opinion as to what Russia's friendship signifies. The Chinese have, in the full extent of their northern frontier, a great question in discussion with Russia. So long as China was weak, and consequently unable to resent the patronage of her friend, so long was Russia able to play "my lady bountiful" with a good grace and perfect success. But the moment China became strong, and in a position to resent the condescension of her whilome ally, the Chinese took a different tone, and already we hear of the Chinese assuming a semi-hostile attitude in the Amoor region. But whereas China's apprehension – for it is apprehension that is at the root of her hostility to Russia, at Russia's designs in Manchuria and among the Khalkas is vague at present – her indignation is clear and easily defined at Russia retaining possession of Kuldja after she has demanded its restoration. In short, all her apprehension along the northern frontier, which has slumbered, but never died out, since the Russians seized the Amoor posts during the Crimean War, is reduced to a focus in Central Asia, where Russia appears inclined to throw herself in the path of, or at least to retard, their victorious career. It is not so much the Kuldja question, which is of local importance, that is of pressing moment, as the rupture between Russia and China, that a crisis in the Issik Kul region will make complete. That rupture has already taken place, and no concession on the part of Russia will restore her good name with the Chinese. She may hand Kuldja over now, or she may keep it by the strong arm if she can; but she has forfeited all claim to consideration by the Chinese, through delaying to accede to that which those people consider in every sense their right and due. Had Russia at once said to China, "We will abandon Kuldja, and only require you to guarantee the safety of the population," there would have been not only the preservation of the good understanding between the countries, but there might have been, for fresh purposes, a Russo-Chinese alliance in Central Asia. That alliance must have been fraught with danger to this country, and for reasons that will best be described under the head of Anglo-Chinese relations.

But the Russian authorities failed to grasp the situation in its full extent. They treated the Kuldja question as a mere local affair, and they trifled with the Chinese as if the latter had no very strong interest in the matter. They altogether ignored the terrible earnestness of the Chinese character, and they treated the demands of Tso Tsung Tang in a spirit of levity that must have roused the ire of that general. Their policy, regarded from any point of view, was shallow and unwise, but, bearing in mind the past tact and diplomatic skill shown by Russia in her dealings with China, it must appear more shallow and foolish. Of course this Kuldja question differs from all previous questions in the essential point of all, that here for the first time Russia had to go back instead of advancing, as always had been the case heretofore. The Russian authorities simply regarded the matter from the point of view of what effect it would have upon the peoples of Central Asia. They persuaded themselves that to hand over Kuldja would be to give an impetus to every hostile element in Western Turkestan, as well as to lower their prestige generally throughout Asia. As a leading Russian paper expressed it, "the retrocession of Kuldja would be an act of political suicide, for not only would it raise the prestige of China to a higher point than ever before, but it would also undermine our position in Eastern Asia, by giving the Chinese a strong military position within our natural frontier. For these reasons Kuldja cannot be restored." That paragraph sums up the arguments the Russians will employ in defence of their continuing to retain possession of Kuldja. They add something to their effect in the popular mind by diatribes against the Chinese for rumoured barbarities, by drawing comparisons, flattering to themselves and to their administrative capacity, between the present condition of Kuldja, and what it would become under a restored Chinese rule. In depicting what this would be, they entirely ignore the prosperous condition of Kuldja before the Tungan revolt, and they appear to assume that the anarchy existing there, when they entered it in 1871, was due to the Chinese, instead of being caused by the ingratitude and fickleness of its own people. And they shut their eyes to the great benefits China conferred upon Central Asia during the century that she was paramount therein. They would like us, and every other observer of the crisis, to do the same. That is impossible, for the teaching of history is clear, and points to a diametrically opposite conclusion. We do not dispute the beneficence of Russia's government of Kuldja. We freely admit it. That is no reason for maligning the Chinese, and asserting that they are utter barbarians; nor is it a reason, in the eyes of Chinamen, for a refusal to restore Kuldja. By refusing to entertain the overtures of Tso Tsung Tang, which were made, there is reason to believe, before the attack on Yakoob Beg, the Russians huffed the Chinese; and by procrastinating ever since, when questioned upon the subject, they have still further displeased them. The Russians are aware of this, and feel convinced that, no matter how obliging they might be disposed to be, the Chinese will now no longer appreciate their moderation. If we admit this, as can scarcely be gainsaid, what becomes of the Kuldja question, and of its peaceful solution that many claim to see? How can it be peacefully solved, if Russia will not accede to the terms from which China is resolved not to budge? Surely not by a fresh commotion on the part of the Mussulman population, which some persons have pretended to forecast by magnifying a petty success that has been obtained by the insignificant ruler of Khoten over a Chinese detachment. Surely not by such trivial circumstances as the hostility of an outlying dependency, will China be either expelled from Kashgar, or induced to forego her claims on Kuldja. The success of the Khoten chief is but a minor incident in the campaign, and for that district and its people it must be pronounced a great misfortune. The Chinese will exact a terrible revenge. The Kuldja question will not be solved by such means, English readers can feel assured; and the hostility of Russia and China towards each other will become more pronounced every day. Already petty disturbances are reported to have taken place along the border. Russian merchants have been molested by parties of brigands, among whom the assailed assert there were Chinese soldiers; and no satisfaction could be obtained from their generals. Representations have been made to Tso Tsung Tang upon the subject, and his reply has not been very amicable. Russian caravans, which were always welcome during the progress of the war at Manas, Karakaru, and Urumtsi, are now no longer greeted with the same cordiality, and the Chinese are evincing an intention to close their frontier to Russians. Few caravans, the Tashkent Gazette informs us, now care to leave Kuldja for the territory occupied by the Chinese army; and slowly, but none the less surely, is the old alliance between Russia and China departing to join the things that were, but are not. But, although so much is clear, it is almost impossible to predicate the future course of the Kuldja question. It is not probable that Tso Tsung Tang will openly attack the Russians, yet his hand may be forced by the home authorities, and he may be left no alternative between that and the abandonment of his enterprise. It must be always remembered that Russia's best weapon is intrigue at Pekin, and a skilful envoy might so far manipulate the rivalry between Tso and Li Hung Chang as to induce the latter to paralyze the ambition of the former by withholding supplies and reinforcements from the army of Central Asia. So unpatriotic a course would, we believe, be hateful to Li Hung Chang, and it, certainly, would be attended with great danger, sure to recoil upon his guilty head, if for a personal rivalry he debased himself so far as to become the tool of his country's foe. But yet it is in vain to deny that there is danger to the preservation of China's most cherished interests in the rivalry of some of her chief statesmen. The Kuldja question, which scarcely admits of peaceful solution in Central Asia, might be solved in the palace at Pekin more easily and more effectually than by a campaign on a large scale in Jungaria and Turkestan; and there is a possibility that Russia may by this means seek to nullify the danger from Tso Tsung Tang, and to stultify the recent Chinese successes. It is very doubtful whether they would succeed, for Chinese opinion runs high upon the topic, and the Mantchoo caste is united in its support of its member Tso Tsung Tang. Even if they did, it would only be shelving the Kuldja question, for so long as the Chinese remain in Kashgaria, and at Manas and Karakaru, they must regard the presence of Russia in Kuldja as a slight to themselves, as well as a menace to their line of communications.

But every probability is against their succeeding. Li Hung Chang's position is not so secure that he can dare to put himself in face of those who champion a national cause, as is the re-absorption of Chinese Turkestan. The return of Tso Tsung Tang with his veterans would be the least danger that the adoption of an unpatriotic policy would entail. If this home danger, then, does not arise, the Kuldja question will be settled between Tso and the Russian authorities in Khokand and Kuldja. The result of that discussion cannot be doubtful. The advocates on either side are soldiers, each equally confident in their own abilities and power, and each flushed by a long tide of success. They will come to the discussion of the question with heated blood and excited nerves; reason will not be the presiding goddess at the council board. There will be accusations and recriminations bandied from one side to the other. If such be the case, the Kuldja question will not be long in discussion, and before the close of the present year perhaps, but more probably early next spring, there will be war between Russia and China along the Tian Shan range. Even if Tso is content to permit his arguments to be clothed in diplomatic language, there will be no solution of the difficulty, so long as Russia remains where she is; and consequently the difference will be as great between Russia and China as if there were open hostilities between the countries. And this, after all, is the main point, for the destruction of all friendly sentiment between Russia and China means the addition of another element to "the great game in Central Asia," and that element, as an adverse one to Russia, is a beneficial circumstance for this country. The difference over the Kuldja question magnifies the previously existing discordant points between the countries, and irretrievably wrecks whatever prospect there once was of Russia and China pursuing an identical policy towards Baroghil and Cashmere. We have now to consider the past relations between England and China, in order that we may be in a position to appreciate the full significance of China's reappearance in Central Asia, and also what is to be the probable outcome of the gradual approximation of the three Great Powers, and the slow extinction of the once innumerable petty states of Asia.

What, then, have been the mutual relations between England and China in the past? There is no necessity to enter into the question of the footing we are on along the sea-coast, for that is really beside the question; nor need we recapitulate the wars which we have at various times been compelled to wage in Eastern China. The result of those wars, those treaties, and that constant inter-communication has been, that Englishmen have secured a foothold in many of the principal cities, and that English trade is supreme there. But the relations along the land frontier are quite the opposite of those obtained on the sea-board, and they are influenced by entirely different considerations. During the last century, and for a considerable portion of the present, we were not, strictly speaking, neighbours of the Chinese; for between the two empires there intervened a belt of semi-independent states, who nominally owned allegiance to China. Some of these were Nepaul, Sikhim, Bhutan and Birmà, with its dependency of Assam. It was in the days of Lord Cornwallis that we first realized the significance of the fact that Chinese prestige had penetrated south of the Himalaya. The Ghoorka rulers of Nepaul had, on several occasions, molested the peaceable Tibetans, and at last had grown so bold, that on one expedition they advanced as far as Lhasa, which they plundered. At that moment the aged Keen-Lung was meditating the retirement from public life, which a few years afterwards, like the Asiatic Charles the Fifth that he was, he adopted; but, on the news of this insult to his authority, his warlike spirit fired up, and he vowed that the marauders of Khatmandoo should dearly pay for their audacity. A large army, of the reputed strength of 70,000 men, was collected, and the Chinese generals advanced by the Kirong Pass upon the Nepaulese capital. A desperate battle was fought along this elevated road, resulting in victory to the Chinese. Several other encounters took place with the same result, and the Ghoorkas were compelled to sue for terms. The Chinese showed no disposition to stay their advance, until Lord Cornwallis mediated between the foes, and peace ensued. Nepaul acknowledged its suzerainty to China, and agreed to send tribute every five years to Pekin. For more than half a century this was regularly sent, but during the last thirty years it has been either discontinued, or has grown irregular. But for us the main point is, after all, that the Chinese, although yielding to the remonstrance of Lord Cornwallis, really did so with a bad grace. We had stood between them and their prey.