The Mahdi rebellion was an anti-colonial movement, and in the book, it’s shown without any sympathy or respect. The prophet Mahdi himself is fat and grotesque, in spite of his contemporary portraits being available to Sienkiewicz and showing him as a slim ascetic, a Sufi dervish and a holy man. His rogue state is full of cruelty, fanaticism and hunger. All Arabs in the novel are more or less evil and sick, at best cunning, ambitious and ruthless, at worse, full of bestial cruelty. They deceive and lie, ‘as only people in the East can’. The reader was supposed to be shocked at the gore in scenes from the Sudanese capital, Khartoum, overrun by Mahdists, with the chopped off head of British general Gordon, displayed on a pike. They have an almost post-apocalyptic intensity in them. Sienkiewicz was very suggestive at showing slaughters and historical disasters, be it a Rome burned by emperor Nero, or Cossack rebels pillaging Polish noblemen mansions in Ukraine.
This part of the novel, even if well written, lacks empathy. Especially if we consider who the author was. Sienkiewicz, as a Pole, belonged to a nation that shared similar experiences with Sudanese and other colonised people. The Polish Commonwealth was conquered and divided by stronger and, arguably, more ‘advanced’ nations, at least in terms of governorship and order. In fact, Poland’s critics, such as famous military theoretician form Prussia, von Clausewitz, compared Poles to Tartar Horde, or savage tribes form North America. To non-Europeans, to savages. Poland was perceived as something exotic and unruly, a territory which ought to be tamed. Such is the moral legitimisation of colonialism; being weaker and different excludes you from those, who deserve a just treatment.