It is in foreign affairs, even more than in domestic politics, that England stands now where Russia stood a few years ago. The parallel has often been remarked among my friends in London, and still more so in Moscow, where it was said that it would be useful to point out the analogies of the case. It must be admitted that England in 1885, as Russia in 1878, professes to deal in the way she thinks best with a province of Turkey. You, like us, have spent blood and treasure, the one in Egypt, the other in Bulgaria, and you, like Russia, are now experiencing too late that the Powers will rob your victory of its fruit, and that a Government which did nothing to help in the day of battle will do its best to mar in the day of council. And Prince Bismarck plays “the honest broker’’ between you and France, just as he plied his broker’s craft between us and Austria in 1878. The parallel is not of particularly good omen for the party in England which is claiming Egypt for the English. We had to consent to the enslaving of Macedonia, the partition of Bulgaria, and the occupation of Bosnia. You also will have to pay the price of your disinterestedness. Is it not a heartless Nemesis which punishes this England of Mr. Gladstone for the sins of the England of Lord Beaconsfield?

Our position in Bulgaria was more difficult than yours in Egypt. We had to give the country up to the care of a young man of foreign nationality, foreign creed, foreign education. You might return Egypt to a skilled Egyptian who has gained the confidence of his countrymen, whose skill has been highly praised by all Europe when he was in power, and whose statesmanship is recognized by a man of such straightforward, unbiassed judgment as General Gordon. In restoring Ismail your own work would be strengthened and continued. No Slav, no Greek Orthodox was tolerated in Bulgaria by “unprejudiced” Europe. We had to appeal to a Prince Battenberg, whose chief merits were his youth and inexperience. Europe insisted upon the choice of a foreigner, and on the establishment of constitutional government in a young country—which for four centuries was under the yoke of Turkey—with the obvious desire to mar the future of Bulgaria. Still, England’s task is also no child’s play, because she has to recognize that the deposition of Ismail has been a mistake; and few people like admitting their mistakes.

I have met with so much kindness in England, in spite of my incautious remarks and my clumsy frankness, that, after Russia, there is no country of which I am so fond as Great Britain. It is, therefore, with feelings of deep sympathy and regret that I witness her present disappointment, which vividly brings home to me the mortification we had to suffer from you in the summer of 1878. It is true, your hearts have nothing to do with the question, your sympathies have nothing in common with the Egyptians—their religion, their race, their hopes, their aspirations differ from yours. You have only British interests at stake. We had Russian honour pledged to secure the liberation of the Balkans, and that pledge we were obliged to put off—for a time. The regret of that enforced betrayal rankles deep in every Russian heart. You will have probably only to lament some Stock Exchange calamities. Well, misfortunes of that sort can easily be borne. We in Russia are not driven to despair by financial losses, and you perhaps will have more fortitude in that direction some day.

On the Nile free England was the upholder of the authority of the oppressor, while on the Danube despotic Russia came to liberate the oppressed. But even as it is England suffers keenly enough to understand how intensely my country must have felt when England stepped in to spoil the task the accomplishment of which had cost Russia more of her sons in a single battle than you have sacrificed in all your Egyptian campaigns. How curious it is to recall now, after seven years, all your accusations of perfidy, greed of territory, &c., in the light of what your papers are clamouring for Mr. Gladstone to do in Egypt. We gave no pledges approaching in solemnity, in emphasis, in number to those which Mr. Gladstone gave to Europe about the disinterestedness of England’s action in Egypt. To-day the Daily Telegraph, which nearly lost its reason with rage at the mere possibility that Russia would forget her promises in Bulgaria, vehemently insists that England will never forgive Mr. Gladstone if he is so false to his country as to keep his word about Egypt. Treason based on the keeping of one’s word! It is a curious mixture of ideas. Everything that was denounced as most criminal when imputed to Russia in 1878 is now pressed upon Mr. Gladstone as the highest virtue.

You have, indeed, become more Russian than the Russians. You even lash yourselves into fury because Mr. Gladstone will not perpetrate those perfidies you falsely imputed to Russia seven years ago. Nor is that the only change in English policy that may perhaps teach Englishmen to understand Russian action. You are constantly upbraiding us because in the wide expanse of Central Asia our Cossacks have never yet been able to draw bridle. It is a folly to give certain pledges. “Thus far and no farther” can be only a word of the Almighty. You would not believe our protestations that we were reluctantly driven on by a force we could not control. Our Emperor, you said, was not sincere in his desire to check expansion in Turkestan. “Actions speak more than words,” and so on. Quite true; but certain words are actions by themselves, and if you read carefully the assurances given by our Government you will not find any unconditional pledge; and the less pledges are given in future the better it will be for every one. As to Mr. Gladstone, who is mad enough to doubt his sincerity? He could perhaps be reproached with the intensity of his anxiety to concentrate the forces of the empire and contract its bulk. That was seen both in Afghanistan and Egypt. Yet Afghanistan, is that evacuated even now? Your outposts are at Pishin; you have finally annexed Quetta, and you are pushing a railway through the passes. In Egypt your protestations of your anxiety to get out lead you ever farther and farther in, and at this moment a British army is approaching the capital of the Soudan, from which even the Egyptians were to come out no more than twelve months ago. Nothing in Russian conquests rivals the contrast between English deeds and English professions. You were quite sincere, that is notorious. But sincerity is no charm against the growth of empire. We have always told you so, but it has been reserved for England to offer the most signal demonstration of its truth in her own experience.

The last point upon which you have become altogether Russian is the importance which you attach to the delimitation of the northern frontier of Afghanistan. For years Russia has been pressing that scheme upon England with but little success. At last you adopt it, and now you are so eager to have the work carried out that you are almost ready to crucify our commissioner because he fell dangerously ill and could not begin the surveys in the middle of winter. I confess it seems rather difficult to be elated with the delimitation scheme. I do not know exactly who the promoter of it was: at all events, that scheme was not a stroke of genius, and there is little ground for boasting over it. That poor product of human ingenuity, however, has been joyfully adopted by both contracting Powers. Far away from political controversies, judging that scheme while residing in one of the loveliest spots in Sicily, where everything looked serene and happy, a few Russians came together, and that very subject was discussed. They expressed no objection to the definition of the Afghan frontier: quite the opposite. Anything that eliminates points of difference between neighbours is good, and it will no doubt be a gain to all the geographical societies that there should be a new map of a country of which very little is known. But what may be a cause of regret is the belief that seems to prevail in England that if you draw a frontier on the map you have solved the Central Asian question. Is that not a delusion, and a dangerous one? A new map settles nothing; a streak of colour painted on a map will not convert either Turkoman or Afghan into saints. After the line is drawn, everything will go on pretty much as before. Afghans, not over-respectful about geographical discoveries, will raid into Russian territory or attack Russian caravans, as their impulse will guide them to do. What, then? Are we to respect a frontier which is only an asylum for marauders? It is impossible. Has not Prince Bismarck yet convinced you that your jurisdiction must be effective if you are to expect that it will be respected? You have learned that you cannot be a dog in the manger in Africa and in the Pacific. Do you think it possible to play that role in Central Asia? I am afraid of being misunderstood in expressing my personal doubts. Russia certainly is not anxious to have the Afghans made alone responsible for their duty. Not at all. If England is answerable for them, so much the better. If you are going to protect you will have to control, and the new frontier will be as all other frontiers have been, unless you answer for order on the inner side. But will the good understanding between Russia and England not be put in jeopardy if the Afghans decide to trouble us and embarrass you by some new savage trick?

Holloway’s Hotel, Jan. 30, 1885.      

О.K.