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MINUTES OE PROCEEDINGS OE 
powerless race, or were the mountains inaccessible, and their topmost 
ridges crested with the eternal snows, as are those of the higher Himalayan 
ranges; and further, were no great power approaching, we might no doubt 
remain within our own borders, and be content to disregard the outer 
world, and to guard our line by a thin cordon of forts and pickets. In 
the north-eastern frontier of India these characteristics with some exceptions 
do exist, and consequently our policy there is rendered comparatively simple. 
But on the north-west, as I have endeavoured to explain, our position is 
altogether different. We stand at the very foot of a long range of mountains 
held by a fierce people ever ready to attack, and who, though nominally 
independent, are one in race, religion, and feelings with the Afghans in their 
rear. It is true that there are but two main passes, the Kyber and the 
Bolam, by which armies can be brought into India, but there are several 
minor intermediate ones, available as auxiliary routes, and now used for 
purposes of trade; and all along the border the tribes find no difficulty in 
descending at will and invading our frontier. The country is rugged but 
not inaccessible. 
Afghanistan itself, though comparatively a poor country, still contains 
numerous fruitful valleys, where troops could be assembled and supplies 
obtained; so that a great power in alliance with the Afghans, and if in 
possession of Herat and Candahar, could assemble its forces behind the 
screen of mountains, and debouche when ready in our plains. It seems to 
me, therefore, that with our long, thinly-guarded frontier, with brave enemies 
in our front, with our backs to a great river, and with a great power looming 
in the distance, we are by no means in a position to fold our arms and to 
proclaim a policy of indifference. We live next door to very unruly neigh¬ 
bours, who have the vantage ground, and we must at least exercise police 
vigilance, even if we choose to ignore the higher functions of active 
diplomacy. 
It is sometimes urged that in case of attack we might fall back across 
the Indus, but to do so would involve a loss of territory as well as of 
prestige. Not only that, but with only one bank of the river in our 
possession, we should at once lose the use of it as a means of lateral 
communication, and it is the only one we have at present. It is also 
sometimes urged that if we ever are invaded in force, we should let our 
enemies come on, and then fight them in the* open plains. The commander 
of a fortress, however, would hardly be held justified were he to abandon 
his ramparts and to wait for his foes in the centre of his citadel. If we are 
to fight a great battle in the plains of India, it will probably, I think, be 
nearly the last, but certainly not the first of the campaign. 
Masterly inactivity is therefore out of the question. 
The second line of policy, and one sometimes advocated, is that of the 
sword; namely that we should advance at once, boldly, to the conquest of 
Afghanistan, seize Candahar and Herat, and thus adopt the line of the 
Hindoo Koosh as a secure barrier. 
This is certainly a simple and an intelligible course of action; but judging 
from past experience it would involve us in a costly, dangerous war, in 
a poor, rugged, inhospitable country, far away from our resources, and 
would bring us into collision with a race of fierce, implacable mountaineers. 
