Kitchener, Horatio Herbert Kitchener, Earl, 1850-1916
In practice it was his knowledge of Arabic, and still more his
knowledge of Arabs.
There is in Islam a paradox which is perhaps a permanent menace. The
great creed born in the desert creates a kind of ecstasy out of the
very emptiness of its own land, and even, one may say, out of the
emptiness of its own theology. It affirms, with no little sublimity,
something that is not merely the singleness but rather the solitude of
God. There is the same extreme simplification in the solitary figure
of the Prophet; and yet this isolation perpetually reacts into its own
opposite. A void is made in the heart of Islam which has to be filled
up again and again by a mere repetition of the revolution that founded
it. There are no sacraments; the only thing that can happen is a sort
of apocalypse, as unique as the end of the world; so the apocalypse
can only be repeated and the world end again and again. There are no
priests; and yet this equality can only breed a multitude of lawless
prophets almost as numerous as priests. The very dogma that there is
only one Mahomet produces an endless procession of Mahomets. Of these
the mightiest in modern times were the man whose name was Ahmed, and
whose more famous title was the Mahdi; and his more ferocious
successor Abdullahi, who was generally known as the Khalifa. These
great fanatics, or great creators of fanaticism, succeeded in making a
militarism almost as famous and formidable as that of the Turkish
Empire on whose frontiers it hovered, and in spreading a reign of
terror such as can seldom be organised except by civilisation. With
Napoleonic suddenness and success the Mahdist hordes had fallen on the
army of Hicks Pasha, when it left its camp at Omdurman, on the Nile
opposite Khartoum, and had cut it to pieces in a fashion incredible.
They had established at Omdurman their Holy City, the Rome of their
nomadic Roman Empire. Towards that terrible place many adventurous
men, like poor Hicks, had gone and were destined to go. The sands that
encircled it were like that entrance to the lion's cavern in the
fable, towards which many footprints pointed, and from which none
returned.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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