by Ure, John
Kadjar Khan poured poisonous gossip into O’Donovan’s ears: the other khans were really in league with the Russians, and if they resumed power ‘his life would not be worth a moment’s purchase’. However, Kadjar Khan did not endear himself to O’Donovan by taking advantage of the generally disturbed situation firstly to drop broad hints that he expected an expensive present, and then – when presented with a handsome silver casket containing jewels – rudely rejecting this and asking for its cash value in gold sovereigns instead. O’Donovan wryly comments: ‘I had, at a bound, gained an enormous insight into the mental temperament of Turkoman chiefs’. One of the other rival khans who had seen what was going on observed: ‘Sahib, you can see that Kadjar is no true Khan!’. The effect of his remark was however slightly spoiled when a moment later he dropped a heavy hint that he would like the silver casket for himself. These were just some of the incidents which were a prelude to the bloodless revolution that was to alter dramatically O’Donovan’s standing. Suddenly everyone seemed to be seeking his support or goodwill. An outsize bottle of arrack arrived from the Toktamish chief. And a request for money from the keeper of a Russian prisoner was coupled with a message to the effect that ‘I had only to say the word, and the throat of the captive would immediately be cut in my honour’. (O’Donovan was so disturbed by this last message that, even at the risk of appearing pro-Russian, he remonstrated that he would consider such an act the very reverse of an honour.) Kadjar Khan came and sat up all night with him talking politics and spreading slanders about his rivals for power.
The following day there was a council of the hereditary khans – excluding Kadjar – and O’Donovan was required to attend to answer questions, this time not about himself but about the likely course of international affairs. Were the Russians about to advance on Merv? He said, as nothing had happened so far, he thought not for the next few years. Were the British about to advance from Kandahar? He said he thought only if they went to war with Russia. What should the people of Merv do to preserve their independence? He said they should stop launching raids on their neighbours. Would the Queen of England be prepared to receive the people of Merv as her subjects? He said they should write via the British agent at Meshed to inquire. Would the queen send them breech-loading rifles and a cannon? He said she would, if they were her subjects, and that she would then send troops too. If the people of Merv were to stop launching raids, would the queen pay them a subsidy to make up for their loss of income? He said they had better ask that too. Having given all these answers, he again repeated that he had no authority to speak for the British government – a statement which they clearly thought was over-modest and inaccurate.
When he was accompanied away from the council, he was not taken back to his former tent, but was instead led to a new redoubt, some seventy yards square complete with a moat, which was being rapidly constructed by over a hundred men while half a dozen women were busy with the felt walls and roof. His saddles, arms and bedding had already been installed. His first thought was that he was being relocated to a more secure building to prevent him making a getaway. But he then noticed that instead of being addressed as formerly as ‘sahib’, he was now being called ‘khan’. He inquired what was going on, and was told that the council of Merv had decided that, among the other changes they were making, he should henceforth be considered as the personal representative of the Queen of England and as such should be granted the dignity and rank of being one of the khans of Merv. The new redoubt was to be his palace. O’Donovan decided that, since all his protestations to the contrary had been of no avail, he could only go along with this: ‘I simply bowed, as if it were only a matter of course’. He sat down on the special rug prepared for him and promptly fell asleep.
The reason behind the sudden elevation of O’Donovan to the rank of khan was of course that the other khans wished to establish some formal link with England which would ensure her support if and when the long-expected Russian advance materialized. Short of military support, financial support was the next best thing. And the people of Merv soon saw what they took to be evidence of this – evidence based on a very curious misapprehension.
At about this time O’Donovan received a package of newspapers from Tehran via Meshed. No one in Merv had seen newspapers before; in fact, almost the only printed paper they had seen had been some Russian bank notes captured near Geok Tepe. Being unfamiliar with paper money (silver was the coinage of use) they had at first been inclined to think the Russian paper money of no value, and had then been mystified and impressed by a streetwise Jewish dealer buying up the notes for almost nothing and later exchanging them with a visiting caravan for goods of substantial worth. If such small pieces of printed paper were really of such high value, surely, they argued, these large (broadsheet) pages of newsprint must be worth a fortune? Was not this the first evidence of the British exchequer sending substantial material backing to the beleaguered people of Merv? O’Donovan did his best to disillusion them by explaining that the vast printed pages were conveying information – news – rather than incorporating intrinsic value. But the inhabitants of the oasis were almost as unfamiliar with the concept of news as they were with the concept of paper money. He was thought to be playing down the significance of the package he had received, possibly to safeguard it. It was only when later they saw ‘the heterogeneous purposes to which this paper was applied, and the total disregard which I showed for it’ that they began to accept that he was not in receipt of a sudden fortune. But still they had high hopes of material British support.
In a different sense altogether, the newspapers did give substance to the concept of Britain being a valuable ally, because these papers brought news of British successes in the Second Afghan War. With General Roberts and a British army at Kandahar, the Russians at Geok Tepe seemed a less imminent menace. In these more relaxed circumstances, O’Donovan was able to persuade his hosts to take him on a visit to the ancient ruins of the former cities of Merv, which lay less than a day’s ride from the existing capital. On such rides through the desert, he was disconcerted to witness how the warriors from Merv would dash at full gallop through settlements of their own tribesmen, terrifying all in their wake, purely for the purpose of exercising their military and equestrian skills. He was obliged to participate in these mad charges because, if he had loitered behind, he would have fallen into the hands of the frightened and enraged villagers, who would have taken their revenge on him. But when asked by his hard-riding hosts whether such amusing exercises were carried out in Western countries, he told them in no uncertain terms that they were not, and then fell silent. They appeared to get the message and in future saved their energies for attacking real enemies. O’Donovan was beginning to have some influence.
He was soon to have an opportunity to use this influence because, shortly after his visit to the ancient ruins, a formal ceremony was set up by which he was not only installed as a khan of Merv but invited to advise about their foreign and domestic policy. All his protestations about not being a formal representative of Britain having been brushed aside, a flag pole was erected outside his new residence with a bright crimson silk banner floating from it; this – he was told – was both an emblem of his office and ‘supposed to represent the English flag’. The hoisting of the flag was intended to indicate the formal adhesion of the Merv nation to the British government. Rich carpets were spread around and when the other two khans joined him in council, one of them ‘took from his finger a singular looking ring and placed it upon mine’. They then invited him to speak publicly, both to them and to the listening crowd which had assembled. It was a strange privilege.
O’Donovan was well aware that part of his influence stemmed from the fact that, quite coincidentally, the Russian advance towards Merv had been halted just at the moment when he arrived at the oasis. With the authority that this gave him, and with the audience set up for him, he decided to make the most of the opportunity. He reminded them that there was very little use in putti
ng themselves under the protection of England unless they ensured that news of their gesture had been communicated to the Queen of England. He suggested a further channel for such communication – a formal document adorned with seals and transmitted by their own ambassador at Tehran to the British minister.
The next point that he emphasized was that they must ward off anything provoking hostilities with Russia, and he reminded them that most of the other khanates and emirates of Central Asia had, at least in part, brought their ill fate upon themselves by continuing to launch raids across the Russian frontier and against passing caravans. If they wished to deflect a Russian invasion they must not fight or harass her either as a state or privately by individual raids. He reminded them that Bokhara was already under Russian protection, so attacks on such a neighbour were equally taboo. Holding prisoners was a further provocation.
At this stage he was interrupted by a member of the assembly who angrily interjected, ‘How in the name of Allah were they going to live if raids could not be made?’ O’Donovan replied that if they were overrun by Russia they would have all their raiding stopped, so they might as well learn to stop it first and so avoid being overrun. He went on to say that trade was the answer: the ancient cities whose ruins he had just visited were built on the proceeds of legitimate trade with passing caravans, and Merv could thus regain the lost glories of earlier times and be once more Queen of all the World! They should take advantage of the fact that Russia had halted her advance at Ashkhabad and Britain had halted hers at Kandahar. (Little did he know that within a year Russia was to send a trading caravan to spy out the land, and follow it with an invasion force.2)
After this very public meeting, some heed seems to have been taken of O’Donovan’s advice: attempts were made to impose charges on passing caravans instead of turning a blind eye to the plunder, and a long-standing Russian prisoner-of-war was released from his shackles. The same prisoner was eventually brought under escort to see him, and he discovered that, as he had thought, the prisoner was a humble artillery man and neither a senior officer nor the son of a Russian general as they had been led to believe. The misunderstanding of his rank and significance as a hostage, which had led to exorbitant and unrealistic ransom demands, was at least in part the fault of the prisoner himself who (although only aged seventeen at the time of his capture) had claimed to his captors that he was more important than was the case, in the hope of better treatment. After O’Donovan had explained that there was no hope of the Russians paying up the sort of sum demanded, and that his continued detention and bad treatment (he had been tortured) could only prove a provocation and excuse for further aggression, he was eventually set free near the Russian frontier. Though still implacably opposed to tsarist policies, O’Donovan was sufficiently humane to come to the aid of individual distressed Russians; perhaps his own various times in prison had given him a certain sympathy with all prisoners – whether criminals or prisoners-of-war.
Popular celebrations also took place following the public meeting, with horse racing and wrestling matches. For the latter the khans (now of course including O’Donovan) had to present prizes. They also had to present each other with gifts, and this was becoming a problem for O’Donovan since ‘I was at the end of my selection of presents brought out from Meshed, and all my European goods had long since been given away’. However, he scratched around and managed to find a prismatic compass for one of the other khans, and he dipped into his remaining supply of silver coinage. It was not only his fellow khans who looked for gifts on such a festive occasion: everyone from the town-crier, itinerant poets and ‘hook-nosed ruffians [. . .] like stage brigands’, all lined up for presents, tips or merely to gorge themselves at his expense on glasses of arrack and portions of freshly slaughtered mutton. Their appetites seemed insatiable, as most of the inhabitants of the oasis were permanently hungry.
Despite all the caveats that O’Donovan had expressed about not being an official representative of the Queen of England, the people of Merv were determined to make use of him in every possible way as an emblem and guarantor of British support. Realizing that the scarlet banner they had erected outside his redoubt was not in fact the national flag of Great Britain, they invited him to design a Union Jack which they would then arrange for their ladies to embroider to replace the existing banner. He was wary of doing this as he thought it might amount to ‘an unauthorized hoisting of the British flag’ which could lead to accusations of attempted colonization, so he asked that this too should be referred to the British minister at Tehran for authority. But he was less successful in preventing the usage of a branding iron – inscribed with VR and surmounted by an imperial crown – being used on the local horses in the hope that if they were stolen or captured it would indicate a measure of protection by the Queen of England (Victoria Regina). In the event, they forgot to reverse the design and applied it upside down, so it would have been unlikely to convey any meaning to anyone.
On all counts, O’Donovan was now being treated as part of the establishment in Merv, ‘as naturalized among them’. He had become so proficient at talking about Islamic doctrine that one of the mullahs called on him and asked why he should not now openly embrace the true faith. The mullah promised that once he had acknowledged that he was a Moslem ‘we will find you another wife here, or two if you wish’. It was clear that they assumed O’Donovan had a wife at home – ‘they could not believe it was possible I was unmarried’ – so he used this imagined wife as an excuse for not following up the kind suggestion of conversion and the acquiring of more wives. The Christian religion forbade it, he explained, and he could not betray his existing wife.
This approach, like others, was all part of his hosts’ plan to stop him leaving Merv. Having decided in their own minds that he was a representative of the British government, they saw his presence among them ‘as a kind of security for the co-operation of England’, and were determined he should not leave unless or until another such representative came to live among them. In any case, they could not see why – when O’Donovan had faced such risks and dangers to reach them – he should now consider going away. He himself knew, from news reports reaching him from Meshed, that the British were already considering withdrawing from Kandahar; he thought that if this were to happen the rulers of Merv might react very badly; they would feel more vulnerable to Russian attack and they would blame O’Donovan – a situation that ‘might possibly terminate fatally for myself’.
From now on, he was therefore determined to get away. He requested the British agent at Meshed to write again, this time explaining that his temporary presence was required there for a short meeting. When such a letter arrived, the other khans argued that surely any business could be conducted by correspondence and it was not necessary to go to Meshed in person. O’Donovan pointed out that other envoys (those of Persia and Bokhara) were allowed to come and go freely, and any detention of him would be taken as evidence of bad faith by the British authorities. The determination of the khans to keep him in Merv was graphically illustrated when he tried to join a mounted expedition to reinforce the frontier with Persia when a ‘genuine border fray bade fair to take place’. Ever the frustrated war correspondent, O’Donovan was anxious to witness and report on the event. But the other khans would not let him go, saying that his life was too precious to be put at risk, but in reality fearing that he might do a runner if he got too close to the Persian border.
Matters got worse when the British agent at Meshed sent three letters to Merv, addressed to different people and all saying very different things about the possible alliance of Merv to Britain or Persia. Predictably, all three letters fell into the hands of Baba Khan, who was furious at the apparent double-crossing and who stormed in to O’Donovan saying ‘The British Agent at Meshed is a traitor [. . .] you must have no dealings whatever with him [. . .] he is evidently in the pay of the Persians’. From now on it was going to be necessary for him to get any letter – extricating him from Merv – direct
from the British minister in Tehran, and an exchange of messages would take at least a month. He wasted no time in getting off such a letter requesting the minister should ‘attach to his reply seals and signatures which they [the other khans at Merv] could understand, and whose importance they could realize’. In the meantime and while still waiting for an answer from Tehran, some of the old caravan-raiding practices were resumed, and O’Donovan threatened to pull down his scarlet banner and break off all relations between Britain and Merv. He was looking for any pretext to leave before the British withdrawal from Afghanistan became public knowledge.
One of the reasons why the other khans would not give their consent to his leaving was that they all thought they stood to benefit from the presents that he was still expected to distribute. He therefore decided he would declare himself broke: no longer able to hand out largesse to the more distinguished citizens, no longer able to feed the hungry mob who frequented his redoubt on a daily basis, unable even to support himself and his horse. He put it about that his horse was for sale, and he and his horse went without food for a whole day. As he anticipated, this thoroughly embarrassed the other khans. They levied a compulsory contribution on the leading local citizens, obliging them to provide for their ‘guest khan’. O’Donovan felt that a mixture of embarrassment and meanness would soon persuade one and all that he should be allowed to go on his way.