Chapter 514: The Kabul Uprising
On the morning of July 4, 1879, the British Governor in Kabul was holding a public rally in the city square to promote the so-called "friendly relations" between Britain and Afghanistan. Many members of the puppet government were in attendance.
"…Britain will bring the light of civilization to Afghanistan and help it take a major step toward modernization… Britain is a friend of the Afghan people, and the friendship between our two countries is unshakable, as solid as a rock."
As soon as the British governor finished his speech, the members of the puppet government led the applause. On the surface, the atmosphere seemed harmonious. To an outsider, it might have seemed that relations between the two countries were as warm as the British claimed—if not for the numb, expressionless stares of the crowd.
Among the crowd, however, were many Afghans whose eyes burned with hostility. The British governor noticed this but was in too good a mood to be bothered. As long as the Afghan authorities remained loyal to Britain, public sentiment didn't matter.
"Abraham, are you ready? We'll start the disturbance and draw the guards over. Then it's your job to put a bullet in that Brit's head."
"Leave it to me. For Allah!" replied a young Afghan with eyes full of determination.
Soon, chaos erupted in the southwest corner of the square. The British governor frowned and signaled for his guards to deal with the commotion.
He walked over to the mayor of Kabul with a grim expression. "It seems not all Afghans are our friends. Some hostile elements are attempting to undermine the friendship between our nations. Such clumsy sabotage is hardly worth worrying about."
The Kabul mayor, hearing the displeasure in the governor's tone, tried to appease him. "Just a few insects hiding in the shadows, stirring up misguided youths. But don't worry—this won't affect our friendship. In the coming days, we'll carry out a purge of hostile elements in Kabul. They'll pay the price."
Internally, though, he suspected the disturbance had been orchestrated by a political rival. He made a mental note to rein in some of his so-called loyal subordinates.
While the two conversed, a young man—Abraham—began walking toward them. All eyes were still focused on the chaos in the southwest. No one noticed him.
When he was about ten meters away, the British governor suddenly sensed something. He looked down from the podium—and saw Abraham.
Abraham had broken away from the crowd and was now clearly visible. Alarm bells rang in the governor's mind.
Abraham saw that he'd been noticed. Their eyes met—both froze. Too late!
Abraham swiftly pulled a revolver from beneath his robe and opened fire at the British governor.
But the governor was no fool. Realizing the danger, he yanked the Kabul mayor in front of him as a human shield.
The mayor, completely unaware, was stunned—what is he doing?
Bang! A gunshot rang out—an assassination attempt!
The British governor had already pulled the mayor in front of him and darted to safety behind him.
Abraham's first shot struck the mayor directly. Seeing that he'd missed his main target, Abraham didn't hesitate—he aimed again and fired five more shots. Three of them hit the mayor.
The mayor collapsed, unconscious and probably beyond saving.
By now, the British guards and Afghan loyalist troops had rushed back. Within seconds, they tackled Abraham and pinned him to the ground.
Knowing he was doomed, Abraham shouted with all his might: "For freedom! For Afghanistan! Allahu Akbar!"
The British governor, still in shock, realized he was drenched in cold sweat and too weak to stand.
Several guards quickly helped him up and escorted him to safety, fearing a second wave of attackers.
Meanwhile, the sound of gunfire echoed through the city. Afghan resistance groups had heard the shots and realized Abraham had acted. Not knowing whether the governor had survived, they launched a full-scale uprising.
Gunfire erupted throughout Kabul. The great Kabul Uprising had begun.
The British governor, having regained some composure, quickly organized his forces to suppress the rebellion.
Chaos engulfed the city as hundreds of resistance fighters—already hiding in Kabul—opened fire on British soldiers and Afghan loyalist troops. Reinforcements from outside the city, which had arrived days earlier, also began attacking the city.
The fighting spilled into civilian neighborhoods. But the resistance inside the city was thinly spread. Soon, they were forced into residential areas, where brutal street fighting ensued.
Outside the city, Afghan fighters exchanged fire with British troops on the walls. But because the governor had survived the assassination attempt, British morale held firm.
He quickly stabilized the troops and launched a counteroffensive against the insurgents.
Fighting within the city lasted from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m., though scattered gunfire could still be heard.
Once the city was under control, the British turned their full attention to the resistance outside. The Afghans had fought fiercely, inflicting heavy casualties. But lacking heavy weapons, they could do little against the entrenched garrison.
Seeing the writing on the wall, Ilya said, "We have to retreat—now. We didn't take Kabul. If reinforcements arrive from elsewhere, we'll be surrounded. We won't make it out. It's 4 p.m.—we've got a few hours until dark. Let's go."
He figured that once night fell, the British wouldn't dare pursue. They were unfamiliar with the terrain and wouldn't risk wandering blind.
Murtaza gritted his teeth. "What a wasted opportunity."
Ilya tried to console him: "We dealt Britain a serious blow. Next time, we'll strike again. Now, we need to preserve our forces. We've made a start. Others will follow. Afghanistan's liberation is only a matter of time."
Murtaza wasn't stubborn. He knew that if they didn't leave now, they might never get the chance. Kabul was lost—for today, at least.
"Withdraw!"
Of the 3,000 men they'd brought, only a little over 1,000 remained. Hundreds had died in Kabul alone. As the capital, it was heavily defended. The British had garrisoned it well—and were supported by loyalist troops. The resistance simply didn't have the numbers.
If the governor had been killed, it might have sown chaos. But unfortunately, he survived—thanks to his quick reflexes.
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