Lord Auckland’s policy is indefensible from all points of view. As an independent ruler of Afghanistan, Dost Muhammad had every right to enlist Perso-Russian alliance on his side however prejudicial it might be to British interests. It should also be noted that Dost Muhammad decided to accept Perso-Russian alliance after the failure of his efforts to secure British friendship. ” We had ourselves,” observes Kaye justly, “alienated the friendship of the Barakzye Sardars. They had thrown themselves into the arms of the Persian King, only because we had thrust them off.” Further, the poor excuse of Perso-Russian aggression as a danger to British interests ceased to have any force whatsoever after the withdrawal of the Persians from Herat in September, 1838; this “cut from under the feet of Lord Auckland all grounds of justification and rendered the expedition across the Indus at once a folly and a crime”. Politically considered, the Governor-General’s policy was ill-advised and inexpedient. Dost Muhammad, whom he wanted to depose, was an efficient ruler having sufficient control over the unruly Afghan tribesmen, whereas his nominee, Shah Shuja, though possessed of some capacity, had hitherto met with nothing but failure, and had no prospect of gaining popularity among the Muslims of Afghanistan by being reinstated through the assistance of the Sikhs, the old enemies of the Afghans, and of the Christian British power. Shah Shuja, was a man “whom the people of Afghanistan had repeatedly, in emphatic, scriptural language, spued out for these Barukzye (Barakzai) chiefs, who, whatever may have been the defects of their Government, had contrived to maintain themselves in security and their country in peace, with a vigour and a constancy unknown to the luckless Suddozye Princes”. In short, the Afghan war was launched, as Kaye pointed out, “in defiance of every consideration of political and military expediency; and there were those who, arguing the matter on higher grounds than those of mere expediency, pronounced the certainty of its failure, because there was a canker of injustice at the core. It was, indeed, an experiment on the forbearance alike of God and of man; and, therefore, though it might dawn in success and triumph, it was sure to set in failure and disgrace”. Among the many contemporary critics of Lord Auckland’s policy, the Duke of Wellington wrote to Mr. Tucker that “the consequence of crossing the Indus, once, to settle a Government in Afghanistan, will be a perennial march into that country”. His remark was prophetic.
Regardless of these considerations, Lord Auckland, largely influenced by his private advisers, John Colvin and W. H. Macnaghten, passed orders to assemble “the army of the Indus” to invade the kingdom of Dost Muhammad. Owing to Ranjit Singh’s objection to the passage of the British troops through his kingdom, and certain other reasons, it was arranged that the main British force under the command of Sir John Keane and Sir Willoughby Cotton, accompanied by Shah Shuja would advance from Ferozepore to Kabul by way of BahawaIpur, Sind, Baluchistan, and the Bolan and Khojak Passes over a distance of one thousand miles, while the Sikh army, accompanied by Colonel Wade and Shah Shuja’s son, Timur, would march from the Punjab through Peshawar and the Khyber Pass. As Dr. Smith observes, “the plan violated all the conditions of sound strategy, and was that of a lunatic rather than of a sane statesman”. Further, the march through Sind meant a gross violation of the treaties of 1832 with the Amir of Sind. The British army was considerably reduced in numbers through lack of water supply and provisions before it reached Qandahar. Sir W. H. Macnaghten accompanied the expedition in charge of its political affairs with Sir Alexander Burnes as his principal lieutenant.
The allies at first gained successes. Under the supreme command of Sir John Keane, they occupied Qandahar in April, 1839, stormed Ghazni on the 23rd July, and Kabul fell into their hands on the 3rd August, 1839, when Dost Muhammad evacuated it. Shah Shuja was triumphantly enthroned in Kabul without any welcome, or even a “common salaam”, from the people. “It was,” remarks Kaye, “more like a funeral procession than the entry of the King into the capital of his restored dominions.” For a while the British arms seemed to have received additional lustre. But by the end of the year 1841, “that lustre, such as it was, had been lamentably besmirched.”
Serious dangers were lurking in the situation. Restored by force of British arms and Sikh help, Shah Shuja failed to evoke national sympathy and support; and “it was necessary still to hedge in the throne with a quickset of British bayonets” even after Dost Muhammad had surrendered himself in 1840 and had been sent to Calcutta as a prisoner. But the British army was maintained in Afghanistan at a huge cost, entailing a heavy drain on the resources of India; and its presence there increased the prices of the articles of common consumption, which affected the rich as well as the poor people. The popular discontent at foreign domination was aggravated by lapses on the part of the British troops, stationed in the land of the freedom-loving Afghans. In fact, the system of government imposed on the Afghans “was becoming a curse to the whole nation”.
When Shah Shuja was not accepted by the nation, it would have been wiser for the British to withdraw with him. Considering the dangers of the situation in Afghanistan, the Court of Directors wisely suggested “the entire abandonment of the country, and a frank confession of complete failure”. But Macnaghten, who fondly believed that British prospects were ” brightening in every direction” and that everything was “couleur de rose”, considered the proposal of withdrawal as “an unparalleled political atrocity” and rejected it. Lord Auckland also would not agree to confess the absolute failure of his policy and took recourse to half-measures, which were at once risky and discreditable. The British army of occupation was retained in Afghanistan and an attempt was made to economise by reducing the subsidies of the tribal chiefs of eastern Afghanistan, which alone had so long tempted them to adhere to the English. As a natural result of this “misplaced economy”, the chiefs broke out in insurrection in different parts. Two other serious mistakes were committed by the Governor-General. His appointment of General Elphinstone, an elderly invalid, to succeed Cotton in April, 1841, as the commander of the army in Kabul, against the desire of the Commander-in-Chief, who preferred Nott, the commander at Qandahar, was a calamitous step. It was also unwise on his part to permit Shah Shuja to use the citadel of Kabul, known as the Bala Hissar, for his seraglio, while the troops were badly placed in ill-fortified cantonments outside the city at a distance from the commissariat stores. Further, Sikh help for the British ceased to be forthcoming owing to the prevailing disorders in the Punjab, after the death of their friend, Ranjit Singh, on the 27th June, 1839.
Disturbances broke out by the autumn of 1841. On the 2nd November a howling mob pulled Alexander Burnes out of his house, murdered him, his brother Charles, and also Lieutenant William Broadfoot. The English officers, civil as well as military, and the troops betrayed a regrettable lack of promptness and ability, and thus allowed “the little fire” to grow “by sufferance into a wide conflagration”, under the leadership of Akbar Khan, son of Dost Muhammad. They quarrelled among themselves and failed to realise the formidable nature of the outbreak. “There appears to have been,” comments Thornton, a contemporary writer, “an almost unanimous determination to shut the ears against all intimations of danger, and indulge in a luxurious dream of safety equal to that within the Maratha ditch.” On hearing of these disasters, Lord Auckland was greatly perturbed. He realized rather too late the folly of wrestling “against the universal opinion, national and religious”, and became eager “to consider in what manner all that belongs to India may be most immediately and most honourably withdrawn from the country”. The feeble General Elphinstone allowed the stores depots to be captured by the insurgents without striking a blow; and Macnaghten, the irresolute British political officer in Afghanistan, fearing to be starved out, concluded a humiliating treaty with Akbar Khan on the 11th December. It was agreed that the British forces should evacuate Kabul as soon as possible, that Dost Muhammad should return to Kabul, and that Shah Shuja should either remain in Afghanistan on a pension or should go to India with the British army. But Macnaghten, far from being sincerely disposed to observe these terms, entered within a few days into objectionable negotiations with the rival Ghizali and Qizilbashi chiefs. He was paid back in his own coin for this unwise act, as these chiefs betrayed him, inveigled him into an interview with Akbar Khan on the 23rd December, and slew him with one of his companions, Captain Trevor; his two other companions, Lawrence and Mackenzie, got off with their lives but were made prisoners.
