Part 25

It is by degrees that the economic effect of war comes to be felt, through the agency, usually, of taxation. No nation can throw away perhaps two years’ revenue in one on unproductive effort without becoming gradually poorer,—that is, without having less to spend in giving good wages to great multitudes of men. Suppose a war to cost fifty millions a year—and the American war cost £120,000,000—though much of that is spent in wages, the whole is loss, for even the wages are paid, from the economic point of view, for doing nothing. In the best case, that of a country which is annually heaping-up a reserve in the shape of savings, this reserve must be diminished to an appreciable degree; and the effect, _pro tanto_, is as if the community were making less profit, or were fractionally less industrious, or were more addicted to consumable luxuries like tobacco or wine. If the process continues long, or the war is excessively expensive, all saving-power is consumed, and the community sinks gradually to the position of a man who is living from hand to mouth, and making nothing to provide against the future. The process, of course, may be slow; it may be retarded, as in England in the Great War, by the sudden rise of new and profitable industries, and it may be diminished in its effect by thrift; but it is inevitable. No nation could expend a second year’s revenue on war continuously for a century without being beggared; and each separate year must of necessity involve some approach towards beggary. Borrowing distributes the loss over future years; but it does not diminish the loss itself, which is positive, and not to be diminished by any financial arrangement. Borrowing involves taxation, and the effect of taxation in the gross is to impoverish. It is often said, for instance, that England could borrow a hundred millions, and then pay for it by a twopenny tax on sugar; and that, as a financial statement, is correct. But then this also is correct, that the three and a half millions a year raised to pay for a loan of that amount expended in a past war, means a loss equivalent to an obligation to keep 100,000 unskilled laborers at £35 a year each in idleness for ever. An unskilled laborer does not earn more than that; and that, therefore, is one expression of what the community gives away through such a tax, without real benefit to its producing-power. It is true that three and a half millions is not an amount sufficient to hurt England; but it is a fresh burden on England, and it begins to fall just when it is hardest, that is, when war expenditure and consequent borrowing ceases. It is on the top of the loss of the great customer who has been throwing away, say, £100,000,000 a year, that the new taxation comes, and is, therefore, often so cruelly felt. We have been told, on high financial authority—that of the late Mr. James Wilson—that after Waterloo, when the era of war ended, and the war expenditure ceased, the people found that just when their mighty customer, the Government, ceased to buy everything, and prices suddenly sank, everybody was paying seven-and-sixpence in the pound of his earnings to the State. The reaction was terrible; every man felt nearly ruined, and for at least four years a spirit of economic dishonesty spread among the people, till the ominous words, “the sponge,” began to be uttered aloud. As it happened, the distress did not matter. An enormous development of industry, the result of new inventions and mechanical appliances, rapidly made England rich again; and, followed as it was by a new system of communication, rebuilt the national fortune; but the economic danger for a few years was terrible. Nothing like that is likely to occur again; but still, a great war will touch every household with its consequences before it is done. A shilling income-tax will be felt even by the rich, and will directly deplete the reservoir out of which those who provide the comforts of life are paid. Duties on edible luxuries or necessaries will be felt by the poor in proportion to their poverty, and this the more because they will come on the back of the general “dearness,” especially of eatables, which is the inevitable consequence of war. When the war stops, therefore, there will be distress, great or little, in proportion to the expenditure; but, great or little, equally inevitable, not to be kept-off by any financial arrangement. It may be rendered short, of course, or even innocuous, by other causes, such as a sudden discovery of a new and cheaper motor which, by reducing the energy to be expended on producing a result, positively adds to the national force, and, therefore, to the national producing-power, or by the opening-up of new channels of industry; but, apart from these, there is no avoiding the economic consequence of war. War is waste; the nation pays for the waste by taxation, and, therefore, every individual in the nation must, _pro tanto_, suffer. The particular war may be right, or unavoidable, or purely self-defensive, but one of its consequences must be this; and it is never wise to conceal what inevitably must happen.—_Spectator._

A MASTER IN ISLAM ON THE PRESENT CRISIS.

INTERVIEW WITH SHEIKH DJAMAL-UD-DÎN AL-HÛSSEINY AL-AFGHANY.

Various references have been made of late to a mysterious sheikh who from his lodgings in Paris is believed to hold the strings of the Nationalist movement in Egypt and the religious revolt in the Soudan. We have received the following account of this interesting personage from a correspondent who called on him the other day in Paris:—

Sheikh Djamal-ud-dîn Al-Hûsseiny, for such is his full name and title, was born in Cabul in the year 1837, of a noble and renowned family in Afghanistan called the Seiyidists de Connoire (descendant of the prophet Mahommed). He began the study of Arabic when eight years old, and afterwards he devoted himself to the study of Mahommedan theology and philosophy. When the Mutiny broke out in India he left Cabul and went to that country, travelling through all parts of India, after which he visited Mecca, returning to Afghanistan by Baghdâd and Persia. Sheikh Djamal-ud-dîn joined Abd-ur-rahman Khan, the present ruler of Afghanistan, when civil war broke out between them and Sher Ali Khan. Abd-ur-rahman having been defeated by Sher Ali, Sheikh Djamal-ud-dîn fled to Constantinople, and at this place he was courted by the leading savants and learned men of that city, his literary fame already having attained considerable renown throughout the East. Soon after his arrival in Constantinople he was unanimously elected a member of the Court of Public Instruction. While at Constantinople his spirit blazed into fury at the spectacle of the bad and corrupt administration of the Turks. He delivered lectures and wrote against it in vehement terms, which resulted in his expulsion from Turkey in the year 1871. He thereupon went to Egypt, where he had long been famous for his remarkable knowledge of Arabic, Islamic law, and all branches of philosophy. Hence many of the best men in Egypt and the Soudan flocked around him, and he had several pupils whom he instructed in all branches of Oriental learning. Amongst these pupils of his by far the most notable was Mahammed Ahmad, the Mahdi. At Cairo he attacked Ismail Pasha, denouncing him as the cause of the ruin of Egypt. In short he was one of the principal instruments that caused Ismail’s downfall. When the present Khedive came to the throne he likewise preached in public assemblies against him as the agent of foreign intervention, and consequently in 1880 he was exiled from Egypt. All his possessions, such as his library and papers, were seized at Tewfik’s command by the Egyptian Government. From Egypt he again visited India, remaining there three years, and then two years ago he came over to Paris, in which city he still resides.

His abode is a modest hotel near the Boulevards, where he has apartments modestly furnished. In his habits Sheikh Djamal-ud-dîn is very regular. Rising early in the morning, he enters his sitting room, and peruses the newspapers, smoking his Turkish tobacco in an English pipe. Close by him he generally keeps his Koran, and several Arabic, Persian, Turkish books and pamphlets are scattered about his room, as well as a number of the leading French and English newspapers. Here we may mention that he published for a time an Arabic paper called _Al-Urwat-ul-Wuthka, Le Lien Indissoluble_, which had an enormous circulation in the East. Sheikh Djamal-ud-dîn has a majestic and commanding presence (as may be seen from the accompanying portrait), and a face of remarkable intelligence. He keeps his head uncovered indoors, contrary to Oriental custom. It has already been mentioned in the papers that Sheikh Djamal-ud-dîn has had and has a sort of communication with the Mahdi. He describes him to be a very intelligent person, well versed in Moslem theology and history. In stature he is of moderate size, rather thin, but muscular and wiry. He grows a small beard, and his color is bronze but by no means black, and he possesses a sedate, pious look. In his early age the Mahdi was remarkable for great religious principle, and was always very abstemious and kindly disposed to the weak and poor. Before he acquired his present position as Mahdi he believed that he felt some sort of inspiration, and certainly now believes himself to be the Mahdi expected by all Islam, nor, in his old master’s opinion, does he do this as a mere political pretext.

The following is a transcript of the notes of the interview between our representative and the Sheikh:—

What does the word Mahdi convey to Mahommedans; in what position does it place them, and what is the effect produced on them?—Mahommedans believe, according to Islamic tradition, that at the end of time there will appear a Mahdi, who will be recognized by certain indications, and his mission is to exalt Islam throughout the world. Consequently the Mahdi’s mission is one of great importance, and its effect on Mahommedans is very great. He who studies the history of Islam will find that many Moslem empires were formed through a Mahdi’s mission.

Is it possible for the present Mahdi to be successful in his enterprise and to be followed by all or a large portion of the Mahommedans?—This matter is but like all others of the sort, and considering the present bad condition of the Moslems, should the Mahdi gain two or three more successes, he would certainly be followed by nearly all the Mahommedans.

Do you think it possible to crush his influence?—Yes, if they do not fight him in his own country, thus forcing him, so to speak, to fight and defend it; and also if they leave the defence of other countries to the Mahommedans themselves. The best method of crushing a religious rising, to my mind, is to allow co-religionists to do it.

As the Sheikh is not merely the tutor of the Mahdi, but also a Cabulee savant and old partisan of Abd-ur-rahman, the conversation turned on the Afghan question.

What is your opinion of the Russian advance?—This is a matter of great complication, requiring for its solution the greatest consideration, for there is no doubt that on the one hand a war between two such great Powers as England and Russia must, besides the enormous loss of life, cause great losses to all the world, and cause great future complications. Further, it would not end in a short time. On the other hand, should Russia come to amicable terms at present with England through the mediation of Germany, or by the means of friendly relations between the present British Cabinet and that of Russia, the result would be more disadvantageous to England, inasmuch as the Russian policy and intentions respecting their advance in India cannot be doubted or misunderstood by politicians. Therefore, should an amicable arrangement and understanding be arrived at at present, Russia will have more time and be better able to arrange her affairs and complete her preparations. They could cause a railway to be made from Exeus to the frontier of Afghanistan. Further, they would be enabled to remove any ill-feeling that may exist between them and the tribes of Turcomans, and try to gain the friendship of the tribes of Djamshîdé and Hûzarah, who are situated near Herat, as well as the Uzbaks, who dwell in Balkh, who are all different in race, particularly the Hûzarah, who differ in religion, they being Shîhists. It would not be difficult for Russia to gain these tribes, as they are not on very friendly terms with the Afghans. After this Russia would try and gain the Afghans to their side by promising them the Punjaub. Russian promises would have greater effect than all the means England can bring to bear, inasmuch as Russian character is more akin to the Oriental than any other. Further, the Russians would by intrigue try to incite Indian hostility towards English, promising them self-government should Russia succeed.

All this, however, requires time, so that if Russia should hurry herself into war at present she would be acting against her interests, which would show the greatest ignorance; but I do not think she would be so foolish seeing what she would risk in a war just now. In short, unless Russia retreats back to the Caspian Sea leaving Turcoman and Buckharah, there cannot be perfect safety for England in India. Although the retreat of Russia so far is difficult, yet in the future it would be more so. It is, however, possible, and this by weakening her power in Europe; or by England uniting with the Afghans, Persia, and Turkey, and forcing Russia to withdraw as above stated; and for England to withdraw from the Soudan leaving it to Mahommedans to arrange their internal affairs. Egypt can undoubtedly improve herself and repair, slowly but surely, the damages done. This, however, I fear the present Government will not do, inasmuch as they slight the Mahommedans, and that Russia will supersede them in the matter and in gaining Moslem sympathy, time will show and prove.—_Pall Mall Gazette._

LITERARY NOTICES.

RUSSIA UNDER THE TZARS. By Stepniak. Rendered into English by William Westall. New York: _Charles Scribner’s Sons_.

This is the second contribution of the author to an understanding of the social and political conditions which make the Russia of to-day the reproach and horror of modern civilization; and it is a successful attempt to throw light on the true relations of the revolutionary movement known to us as Nihilism to those conditions. The first book “Underground Russia,” was a comparatively slight work, treating the salient facts of Russian bureauocracy from the standpoint of the dramatic story-teller, and assuming that the world was fully acquainted with the national causes which have led to the dreadful outcrop of repeated assassination as the logical and necessary outcome. In the present work Stepniak surveys the field from the point of view of the philosophical historian and essayist, and reviews elaborately all of the antecedent conditions and the present complexity of evils, which have laid such cruel responsibilities on the would-be reformer. Allowing for that margin of exaggeration and warmth of coloring which are inseparable from the attitude of the enthusiast, it remains clear that the author has framed an overwhelming indictment against the Government of Russia, as a blot on modern civilization so black and evil, as to justify the abhorrence of all who have a just regard for the rights of man. Even the most austere moralist is tempted to admit, in view of such facts, that there may arise conditions where “killing is no murder.” Stepniak has written much in the English newspapers and reviews on the real causes of Russian Nihilism, and the woful facts of imperialism and bureauocracy, which have called forth such a drastic and bloody remedy, if that can be called a remedy which is still vainly struggling with the accumulated weight of centuries of governmental crime. In the book under notice he sums up in a consecutive whole what he had previously stated in fragments.

Beginning with the old Russia, which antedated the founding of the present Romanoff dynasty, under which all the previous elements and tendencies toward misgovernment have become crystallized, he states some very remarkable facts in the political history of his native land which are not known to the general reader. One of the sources of discouragement to the observer of Russian affairs has been the dread that there was nothing in the traditions and training of the people to serve as a foundation for a more just and liberal form of government and an establishment of social order, once revolution had wrought its work in overthrowing the present imperialism. Stepniak dissipates this notion very effectively, and throws a new light on the elements entering into the problem. Previous to the time of Ruric, the various principalities now making up Imperial Russia were governed on a democratic principle even more complete than that which inspired the republics of Italy in their brightest days. The people of each literally determined their own laws and alliances by open council, in which the utmost freedom of debate occurred and the meanest citizen had a voice. True, princes were at the head of these governments, but they were purely electoral, and were so completely at the mercy of the people that they could be dislodged at any time. They were merely military chiefs, with no voice in the making of the laws and with no fixed time of holding position, merely servants of the people with vastly less power and responsibility than are possessed by any one of the higher officials who rule under a representative system. These democracies, though turbulent, disorderly, and quarrelsome, served effectively for several centuries as the medium for the promotion of a high degree of prosperity; and several of them, notably that of great Novgorod, became leading commercial marts of Europe. The tradition is still faintly preserved in the grand annual fair, to which traders flock from all quarters of the East. Internal wars and the tremendous pressure of the Tartar hordes which afterward overran Russia in large part, tended to consolidate these democracies under one ruler. It would be beyond our purpose to trace even in outline the steps by which the haughty autocracy of Tzardom was finally fastened on the country, but it is a singular fact that in the _mir_, or system of village communes, which exists side by side with imperialism in Russia, we have to-day a survival in an humble form of the old Sclav democracies. Stepniak finds in this a hopeful basis for building up free and successful government, when revolution shall have thrown off the incubus of the Romanoffs and the bureaucratic system, of which this dynasty is both the creator and the slave.

The picture which the author gives of life in Russia could hardly be painted in darker colors. No man’s house is safe from domiciliary visits, and the least word of indignation or protest is likely to cause one to be thrown into a prison to rot, or to be exiled for life to the mines of Siberia. Even if found guiltless in court he may be sent into exile by the order of the chief of police. This dread official seems to have almost absolute power. Even a man against whom no charge has been made may be banished to a distant province and compelled to live under police supervision. Any anonymous denunciation is considered sufficient for the police tribunals to act on, and the accused has not even the privilege of confronting his accuser. The action of this terrible and implacable power has paralyzed all healthy intellectual life in Russia, and men who dare to think, either quit Russia, as did Turguenieff, or enroll themselves in the ranks of the revolutionists to plot and work in secrecy like moles, biding their time for open and resolute action. The culmination of the crime of imperialism against the life of the empire is found in its dealing with education in all its branches, from the universities down to the most primitive schools. Under the management of Count Tolstoi—the most base and unscrupulous of the imperial advisers—the universities are watched and governed by _manchards_, who now usurp the place of once learned professors, and discipline is enforced by the prick of the bayonet and the crack of the Cossack whip. Every student is watched as closely as the condemned wretch on the eve of execution, and no social intercourse is allowed. History, science, and literature are sedulously discouraged as studies, because they are “dangerous” guides, and the dead bones of Latin and Greek taught in the most pedagogic fashion are regarded as the only proper food. Even primary schools are watched by spies and soldiers, and babies are made to feel the weight of the police lash. Everywhere is found the iron, inflexible hand of official power, and bureauocracy crushes out the life of the land. The press, both in the provinces and in the great centres, has been completely extinguished, and only those papers which slavishly reflect the opinions of the Government are allowed to exist. Reviews and magazines are placed under an equally rigorous _surveillance_, and Count Tolstoi’s _Index Purgatorius_ puts a ban on the printing or sale of every book calculated to stimulate thought or arouse ambition. All that is worthy in science, art, and literature is tabooed, and prurient French novels are nearly the only foreign books permitted an unrestricted circulation. The Greek Church is thoroughly allied with the Government, and a tool more useful in a country where the majority of the ecclesiastics are knaves and parasites, and the majority of the people, ignorant and superstitious, can hardly be imagined. It is in the hands of this power that all the primary schools have been transformed under the present _régime_, and the results can easily be imagined.

While officialdom thus crushes the life out of the nation, it is honeycombed through and through with corruption and dishonesty. Bribery, theft, mendacity, and malversation of office rot every branch of the public service, and the imperial treasury is robbed as unscrupulously as the people are trodden under foot. Gigantic peculations are continually being discovered, and yet are permitted to go unpunished. Stepniak asserts that if Russia were plunged into a war to-day, she would find herself in a condition similar to that which made French armies so utterly unable to cope with the forces of Germany in the last conflict. The examples of public spoliation carried on by officials high in the confidence of the Emperor, cited by our author, are such as have hardly a parallel in Europe. It has come to be a by-word in Russia that the ordinary vulgar criminal, however flagrant his offence, is leniently dealt with. It is only against the political offender that the severe terrors of the law are invoked.