ALAS POOR AMANULLAH !

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 529, 5 December 1928, Page 10

ALAS POOR AMANULLAH !

INSPIRED only by burning faith in their missions, and gather- * ing nothing to themselves in the way of material advantage, the reformers of the world are the most sorrowful figures in history. Mankind, in spite of the recorded lapse of Aladdin’s princess, has ever been unwilling to change the' old lamp for the new, and more so when the acquisition of the new lamp involved some unpleasant personal forfeit. Man is really the most conservative of creatures, and change of habit is disliked almost as much as the Black Death. Therein lies the reformer’s principal difficulty. His larger vision enables him to see the progressive consequences of certain changes; but unfortunately for him he can only tell his people what lie sees, and words generally make poor substitutes for physical realities discerned with the eye. So the reformer, who has nothing hut his message to communicate, is laughed at and stoned during his life, and if his message is a true one the centenary of his death may be celebrated by the unveiling of a statue. Perhaps in the Elysian fields he may take cold comfort from the reflection that delayed applause is better than eternal scorn. The really happy reformers in history are the despots with good cannon behind them, and sycophantic regiments in front. They get their applause while living. Maybe, it is a little insincere, but they get it, and are, apparently, quite happy in the forfeiture of statues. Still, they have their perils too, and no world monarch can be more puzzled at the oddities of man than poor King Amanullah, of Afghanistan, who to-day surveys the smoking ruins of his palace at Jalalabad. During his visit to Europe, Amanullah, bewitched by the craft of European tailors, decided that trousers and cravats, and shirts and coats should be the future mode for the members of his parliament. Grudgingly, the legislating 700 submitted to the indignity; hut the hitter protest came when the King decided that he liked his legislators clean-shaven. “By the beard of the Prophet,” they moaned, “this is too much!” But the subtle monarch announced that those who sought royal favour would have to overcome their scruples and surrender beards. When the parliament assembled next the beards were gone. Amanullah has had his hour; hut the people are having theirs now, and as the King broods over the ruins of his palace and laments the loss of Bond Street treasures, he may find comfort in the thought that reformers have ever had to tread the stony ways. a