03 BORDER WARRIORS

Chapter 3

BORDER WARRIORS

I WAS standing on a pine-clad spur of the Sufed Koh Range, which runs westwards towards Kabul, between the Khaiber Pass on the north and the Kurram Pass on the south. The snow-clad peaks of Sika Ram, which rise to a height of fifteen thousand feet, tipped by fleecy white clouds, were just behind me, while in front was the green valley of the Kurram River, spread out like a panorama before me, widening out into a large plain in its upper part, where numerous villages, partly hidden in groves of mulberry and walnuts, nestled among the lower spurs of the mountains, while farther down the hills on either side of it closed in and became more rugged and bare, and the river wound its circuitous path through defile and gorge, till it debouched on the plains of India. Immediately before me was the pine-covered Pass of Peiwar, which will always be memorable as the scene of the great battle fought between the forces of the Amir, Sher Ali, and the advancing column of Sir Frederick Roberts. There were the pines covering the crest where the Afghan batteries were ensconced, and one could trace without difficulty the circuitous path up the stony bed of the mountain torrent, through a deep ravine, and then winding up among the pine woods, by which the gallant regiments of the advancing army stormed and finally captured the Afghan position.

Westward of the pass was a fertile valley, dotted over with villages here and there, forming part of the territory of the Amir of Afghanistan. A few miles below the top of the pass could be seen the fort where the soldiers of the Amir guarded his frontier. Turning eastward, some dozen miles off, could be seen the cantonments of Parachinar, the westernmost cantonments of British occupation, and the seat of administration of this trans-border valley. There was a fort garrisoned by the local levies of the Kurram Militia Afghans from the villages round, who, under the training and influence of three or four British officers, have become part of the " far-flung battle line " of the defences of the Empire.

I had been spending some weeks among the people of this district, and the time had come for reluctantly leaving the shady groves and cool breezes of the Upper Kurram for the sweltering plains of Bannu, which even now I could see in the eastern distance covered by heat haze, recalling the punkahs and restless nights which were soon to be my lot instead of the bracing air of the Sufed Koh. Our tents and baggage had been loaded up on some mules, which we could see winding along the white road below us, while we were lingering behind to take a last leave of the hearty Afghans, who had been both our hosts and our patients. Three times had we to pitch our nightly camp before we crossed the border of British India and entered the border town of Thai, which is the first town in British India which a traveller from Afghanistan enters. From the time of crossing the Afghan frontier till now, he has been going through what is known as an " administrative area. " Here was a fort, occupied by troops of the Indian Army, under command of a British officer.

Thirty-four miles still remained in a direct line between us and our destination in Bannu, and before accomplishing this special arrangements had to be made with the tribes occupying it for our escort ; for this tongue of country running up between Thai and Bannu was not British India, nor even an administrative area, but independent, and owned by the marauding Wazir tribe, who owed allegiance to neither Amir nor Viceroy. A couple of ruffianly-looking Wazirs arrived to escort us down. Their rifles were slung over their shoulders, and well-filled cartridge belts strapped round their waists; a couple of Afghan daggers were ensconced in the folds of the dirty red pagaris which they had bound round their bodies, and they carried their curved Afghan swords in their hands. We had now left the fertile valley of Upper Kurram behind us, and wandered through a succession of rocky mountain defiles, over precipitous spurs, and along the stony bed of the river for more than thirty miles. The lower mountain ranges separating Afghanistan from India form by their intricacy and precipitate nature a succession of veritable chevaux de frise, which by their natural difficulties maintain the parda or privacy of the wild tribes inhabiting them, who value the independence of their mountain fastnesses more than life itself. Here and there is a patch of arable land in a bend of the Kurram River, overlooked by the walled and towered village of its possessors, who have won it by force of arms, and only keep it by their armed vigils, even the men who are ploughing behind their oxen having their rifles hung over their shoulders, and keeping their eyes open for a possible enemy. In some places a channel from the river has been carried with infinite labour on to a flat piece of ground among the mountains, where a scanty harvest is reaped. For the rest the hill seems to be almost devoid of animal or vegetable life. A few partridges starting up with a shrill cry from a tuft of dry grass in front of one are occasionally seen, and stunted trees of ber and acacia supply a certain amount of firewood, which some of the Wazirs gather and take down to the Friday Fair in Bannu. The Afghans will tell you that when God created the world there were a lot of stones and rocks and other lumber left over, which were all dumped down on this frontier, and that this accounts for its unattractive appearance. There is one more range of hills to surmount before we reach the plains of India. We have toiled up a rocky path, from the bare stones of which the rays of the summer sun are reflected on all sides, without any relief from tree or shrub, or even a tuft of green grass, till the ground beneath our feet seems to glow with as fierce a heat as that of the blazing orb above us. We have reached the summit, and the vista before us changes as if by magic. Five hundred feet below us is the broad plain of India, irrigated in this part by the vivifying waters of the Kurram River, which, liberated from the rock-bound defile through which they have wandered for the last thirty miles, now dashing over their stony bed, anon hemmed in by dark overhanging cliffs, are at last free to break up into numberless channels, which, guided by the skill of the agriculturist, form a labyrinth of silver streaks in the plain below us. As far as the life-giving irrigation cuts of the Kurram River extend are waving fields of corn, sugar-cane, maize, rice, turmeric, and other crops, spread in endless succession as far as the eye can reach.

Scattered among the fields are the teeming villages of the Bannuchies, partly hidden in their groves of mulberries and figs and their vineyards, as though Cornucopia, wearied by the barren hills above them in Afghanistan, had showered down all her gifts on the favoured tribes below. Such is India as it appears to the Pathans inhabiting the hills on our NorthWest Frontier, and when we see it thus after some time spent with them in their barren and rocky hills, we can readily understand that two thoughts are dominant in their minds. The one is: "Those rich plains have been put there, in contiguity to our mountains, because God intended them to be our lawful prey, that when we have no harvest we may go down and reap theirs ; and when we are hard up, and have a big fine to pay to the British Government, we may lighten some of the wealthy Hindus of the money that they have accumulated through usury and other ways which God hates." The other thought is : " What possible reason has the British Government, the overlord of such rich lands, for coming and interfering with us in our mountain homes, which, though nothing but rocks and stones, are still our homes for all that, where we resent the presence and interference of any stranger?" The reader will have observed that in the journey above described, from Peiwar down to Bannu, four different territories have been passed through. The first and the last viz., Afghanistan and British India are two well-defined, easily comprehensible geographical areas ; but it is seen that betwixt the two are various other tribal areas, in varying relations with the Indian Government. A few words must be said to familiarize the reader with the political conditions obtaining there. The frontier of British India is well defined, but that of Afghanistan was more or less uncertain until the year 1893, when Sir Mortimer Durand was deputed by the British Government to meet the officers delegated by the Amir Abdurrahman, in order that the frontier might be delimited. This frontier is since known as the "Durand Line." The intervening area between the Durand Line and the British frontier is in varying relations to the Indian Government.

Some parts of this, such as Tirah (the country of the Afridis and Orakzais) and Waziristan (the country of the Wazirs and Mahsuds), are severely left alone, provided the tribes do not compel attention and interference by the raids into British territory, which are frequently perpetrated by their more lawless spirits.

These raids are no doubt disapproved of by the majority of the tribesmen, who recognize the fact that they must stand to lose in any conflict with the British Government ; but such is the democratic spirit of the people that every man considers himself as good as his neighbour, and a step better if he has a more modern rifle. As in the interregnums of the days of the Israelitish Judges, each man does what seems good in his own eyes, and bitterly resents any effort of his neighbour, and even of the tribe, to control his actions or curtail his liberty. Thus it happens that it is really very difficult for the tribal elders to prevent their bad characters from perpetrating these raids. The raiders are usually men with nothing to lose, owning no landed property within the confines of British India, and guilty of previous murders or other crimes, which make it impossible for them to enter the country, except surreptitiously, as they would certainly be imprisoned, and perhaps hanged, if caught. A great number in the tribe own lands on both sides of the border, and find it to their interest to take no overt part against the Government ; while at the same time, unless they give asylum to the desperadoes, and conceal them on occasion, they are liable to be themselves the victims. Thus it happens that in nearly every frontier expedition there are some sections of the tribe which desire to be on good terms with the British, and are known as " friendlies." It is difficult for a military commander who has not previously known the people to appreciate this, and when he finds his camp being sniped from a supposed " friendly " village, he not unnaturally doubts the sincerity of the people. As likely as not, however, the recalcitrant sections of the tribe have been at pains to snipe from such points as to implicate the friendly sections and force them into joining the standard of war. On one occasion the exasperated General refused to believe the representations of the Political Officer that the villages from the neighbourhood of which the sniping came were friendly until he left the camp and went over to live in the (supposed) enemies’ village himself! The well-disposed clans would welcome an administration of the country by which these lawless spirits could be kept in check.

Then, there are certain semi -independent States, such as Chitral and Dir, where there are rulers of sufficient paramount power to govern their own country and to render it possible for the British to maintain that amount of control of their external relations which is considered desirable, by means of a Political Agent attached to the court of the chief, while still leaving the latter free to manage his own internal affairs in accordance with the customs of his tribe and the degree of his own supremacy over the often conflicting units composing it.

Thirdly, there are what are known as " administered areas," such as the Upper Kurram Valley, above mentioned. These are inhabited by tribes over whom no one chief has been able to gain paramount authority for himself, where, as is so often the case among Afghans, the tribe is eaten up by a number of rival factions, none of which are willing to acknowledge the rule of a man from a faction not their own. The Government official, therefore, is unable to treat with one ruler, but has to hear all the members of the contending factions. So great is the democratic spirit that any petty landowner thinks he has as much right to push his views of public policy as the representative of an hereditary line of chiefs. This naturally greatly complicates official relations, and the Political Officer, however much he would like to refrain from interference in tribal home policy, finds that, amid a host of conflicting units, he is the only possible court of appeal. This results in an intermediate form of government: the Indian Penal Code does not obtain; tribal laws and customs are the recognized judicial guides, and there is a minimum of interference with the people; yet the Political Officer is the supreme authority, and combines in himself the executive and judicial administration of the area.

Notwithstanding the exclusiveness of the religion that these people profess, they find it impossible to do their business or live comfortably without the help of the ubiquitous and obsequious Hindu. Just as much as the great Mughal Emperors of old found it best to have Hindus for the posts of treasurer, accountant, adviser, etc., so the frontier chief of today has his Hindu vassal always with him, to keep his accounts, write his petitions, and transact most of his written and judicial business. The majority of the shopkeepers also are Hindus. Even under the settled administration of British India the Muhammadan has never become such an adept at bargaining, petty trade, and shopkeeping as the more thrifty and quick-witted Hindu. Thus in every village of any pretension there are the Hindus, with their shops, who make their journeys to the big market-towns on the frontier Peshawur, Bannu and Dera Ismail Khan and return with piece-goods, matches, looking-glasses, and a variety of Western trinkets, as well as the food-stuffs which the Afghan covets, but cannot produce himself, such as white sugar and tea. These Hindus are regarded as vassals by the Muhammadan community they supply, and each Hindu trader or shopkeeper has his own particular overlord or Muhammadan malik, who in return for these services guarantees his safety, is ready to protect him by force of arms, if necessary from rival Muhammadan sections, and to revenge any injury done to him as if it were a personal one to himself. The Hindu supplies the brains and the Muhammadan the valour. The Hindu is ever ready to outwit his overbearing but often obtuse masters, and under British rule avails himself of the protection the law affords to do things he would not venture on across the border. Once when travelling across the border my guide was an outlaw, who had been obliged to fly from British territory after committing a murder. He told me that he had gone into partnership with a Hindu for an extensive contract for road-making: the Hindu was to supply the capital and keep accounts, and he was to recruit the coolies and do the supervision of the work. "While I," he said, "was broiling and sweating in the summer sun, that pig of a Hindu was comfortably seated in his office falsifying the accounts, and I never got an anna for all my labours. I thought I should get justice from the Sarkar, so I brought a civil action against him; but I was a plain man, and he learnt all about the ways of the law from some pleader friend of his, and I lost the case. Then I paid another pleader a big sum to take my appeal to the Sessions Judge, but he had manipulated the accounts and paid the witnesses, so that I lost that too. Allahu Akbar! The Judge gave his verdict before the shadow had turned [before midday], and before the time of afternoon prayers had arrived that son of a pig was as dead as a post. But then I had to come over here, and I can only pay an occasional night visit to my village now."" A story which he told me to illustrate the mercantile genius of the Hindu will bear repeating. A Muhammadan and a Hindu resolved to go into partnership. The Muhammadan, being the predominant partner, stipulated that he was to have the first half of everything, and the Hindu the remainder. The Hindu obsequiously consented. The first day the Hindu brought back a cow from market. He milked it, got the butter and cream, made the dung into fuel-cakes for his fire, and then went to call the Muhammadan because the cow was hungry and wanted grass and grain. The Muhammadan said he was ready to do his share if the Hindu did his. The Hindu blandly replied that he had already done his, while the stipulated " first half of the cow included the animal’s mouth and stomach, and fell clearly to the lot of the Muhammadan.

Now let us see what is the position of the missionary in each of these areas. In British India he has a free hand so long as he keeps within the four corners of the law. In Afghanistan there is an absolute veto against even his entry into the country, and there is no prospect of this changing under the present regime. A convert from Muhammad anism to Christianity is regarded within the realms of the Amir as having committed a capital offence, and both law and popular opinion would decree his destruction. In the intervening tribal areas there is no reason why a cautious missionary, well acquainted with the language and customs of the people, should not work with considerable success. A medical missionary who did not attack their religion with a mistaken zeal would undoubtedly be welcomed by the greater number of the people, though the Mullahs, or priests, would be an uncertain element, and certainly hostile at the beginning. The local political authorities have the final say as to how far the missionaries may extend their operations. I shall revert to this subject in the concluding chapter (Chapter XXV.), where I shall show that in no part of the country are medical missions more obviously indicated, not only for Christianizing the people, but equally so for pacifying them and familiarizing them with the more peaceful aspects of British rule.