When the Anatolian line was first constructed as far as Angora, the general belief in the country was that the long projected trunk line from the Ottoman capital to the Persian Gulf would pass through Angora. This has not been the case, and the main line changes its course at Eski-Shehir, which is situated half-way between the capital and Angora, and runs to the south, towards Konia (ancient Iconium). It is no doubt within the recollection of many people that the scheme of shortening and facilitating communication between Europe and the nearer East and India by constructing a great line over Asiatic Turkey was first projected by English engineers, supported by the British Government. This enterprise, however, could not be realised. The Germans, ever ready to seize all commercial and political ground lost by the English in the nearer East, took the matter into their own hands, and are now going to have the control of what should have been essentially the British route to India through the friendly Ottoman empire. I do not know whether the possession of this line by Germans is a loss to England, but it is really a loss for my countrymen that this enterprise should not have been in the hands of an English company, because they are aware that in dealing with the English there is a fair possibility of mutual benefit; while in bargaining with Germans, the greediest of all grasping Europeans, Turkey has little to expect in return for what she has to give.
On the second evening after my departure the train arrived at Angora at the moment of sunset. I saw from the window of my carriage that some of the mud-walled houses of the town and the walls of the ancient citadel were white and glistening. At first I thought that they were some new buildings which had sprung up as a sign of the prosperity produced by the opening of the railway. But I soon discovered my mistake. The Governor-General had given orders that the municipal authorities were to whitewash the citadel and that many of the citizens were to do the same to their houses before the formal opening of the railway, so that the European visitors and official commissioners who should come to Angora for the first time might suppose that the town was as smart and prosperous as it looked. The governor must have learnt this mode of deception from the Yildiz authorities, who caused all the more ruinous quarters of Constantinople to be whitewashed or surrounded with high timber hoardings before the German Emperor first came to the city. I was particularly surprised that the great time-worn stones of the ancient citadel should have been so monstrously disfigured by a vulgar coat of whitewash. The governor was a certain Abideen Pasha, and he is now the Vali of the Turkish Archipelago. He is an Albanian by birth, and was first educated in Athens. He can write poems in ancient Greek, and is known to be a linguist and scholar. He had been governor of Angora for several years, yet he had done almost nothing to improve the condition of the province. In other countries such a man would perhaps have been given a professorial chair in some educational institution, but he would hardly have been put in a responsible government post which requires practical administrative capacity. Turkey cannot expect beneficial reforms from such learned theorists, any more than from the ignorant incapable officials who are still entrusted by the Palace with the administration of many of the important provinces.