THE DISCOVERY OF INDIA , CHAPTER -10

CHAPTER TEN 



AHMADNAGAR FORT AGAIN 
The Chain of Happening 



AHMADNAGAR FORT. AUGUST THIRTEENTH, NINETEEN FORTY-FOUR. 

It is just over two years since we came here, two years of a dream 
life rooted in one spot, with the same few individuals to see, the 
same limited environment, the same routine from day to day. 
Sometime in the future we shall wake up from this dream and 
go out into the wider world of life and activity, finding it a chang- 
ed world. There will be an air of unfamiliarity about the persons 
and things we see; we shall remember them again and past 
memories will crowd into our minds, and yet they will not be the 
same, nor will we be the same, and we may find it difficult to fit 
in with them. Sometimes we may wonder whether this renewed 
experience of everyday living is not itself a sleep and a dream from 
which we may suddenly wake up. Which is the dream and which 
is the waking ? Are they both real, for we experience and feel them 
in all their intensity, or are they both unsubstantial and of the 
nature of fleeting dreams which pass, leaving vague memories 
behind? 

Prison and its attendant solitude and passivity lead to thought 
and an attempt to fill the vacuum of life with memories of past 
living, of one's own life, and of the long chain of history of hu- 
man activity. So during the past four months, in the course of this 
writing, I have occupied my mind with India's past records and 
experiences, and out of the multitude of ideas that came to me 
I have selected some and made a book out of them. Looking back 
at what I have written, it seems inadequate, disjointed and lacking 
in unity, a mixture of many things, with the personal element 
dominant and giving its colour even to what was intended to be 
an objective record and analysis. That personal element has 
pushed itself forward almost against my will; often I checked it 
and held it back but sometimes I loosened the reins and allowed 
it to flow out of my pen, and mirror, to some extent, my mind. 

By writing of the past I have tried to rid myself of the burden 
of the past. But the present remains with all its complexity and 
irrationality and the dark future that lies beyond, and the burden 
of these is no less than that of the past. The vagrant mind, finding 

•479 



no haven, still wanders about restlessly, bringing discomfort to 
its possessor as well as to others. There is some envy for those 
virgin minds which have not been soiled or violated by thought's 
assault, and on which doubt has cast no shadow nor written a line. 
How easy is life for them in spite of its occasional shock and pain. 
Events take place one after the other and the uninterrupted 
and unending stream of happenings goes on. We seek to under- 
stand a particular event by isolating it and looking at it by itself, 
as if it were the beginning and the end, the resultant of some 
cause immediately preceding it. Yet it has no beginning and is 
but a link in an unending chain, caused by all that has preceded 
it, and resulting from the wills, urges, and desires of innumerable 
human beings coalescing and conflicting with each other, and 
producing something different from that which any single indi- 
vidual intended to happen. Those wills, urges, and desires are 
themselves largely conditioned by previous events and experiences, 
and the new event in its turn becomes another conditioning factor 
for the future. The man of destiny, the leader who influences the 
multitude, undoubtedly plays an important part in this process, 
and yet he himself is the product of past events and forces and his 
influence is conditioned by them. 

The Two Backgrounds: Indian and British 

What happened in India in August, 1942, was no sudden deve- 
lopment but a culmination of all that had gone before. Much 
has been written about it, in attack, criticism or defence, and 
many explanations given. And yet most of this writing misses 
the real meaning, for it applies purely political considerations 
to something that was deeper than politics. Behind it all lay an 
intense feeling that it was no longer possible to endure and live 
under foreign autocratic rule. All other questions became secon- 
dary — whether under that rule it was possible to make improve- 
ments or progress in some directions, or whether the consequences 
of a challenge might be more harmful still. Only the overwhelm- 
ing desire to be rid of it and to pay any price for the riddance 
remained, only the feeling that whatever happened this could 
not be endured. 

That feeling was no new sensation; it had been there for many 
years. But previously it had been restrained in many ways and 
disciplined to keep pace with events. The war itself was both a 
restraining and releasing factor. It opened out our minds to vast 
developments and revolutionary changes, to the possibility of 
the realization of our hopes in the near future; and it put a brake 
on much that we might otherwise have done because of our desire 
to help, and certainly not to hinder in any way, the struggle 
against the Axis powers. 

•480 



But, as the war developed, it became ever clearer that the 
western democracies were fighting not for a change but for a 
perpetuation of the old order. Before the war they had appeased 
fascism, not only because of the fear of its consequences but also 
because of a certain ideological sympathy with it and an extreme 
dislike of some of the probable alternatives to it. Nazism and 
fascism were no sudden growths or accidents of history. They 
were the natural developments of the past course of events, of 
empire and racial discrimination, of national struggles, of the 
growing concentration of power, of technological growth which 
found no scope for its fulfilment within the existing framework 
of society, of the inherent conflict between the democratic ideal 
and a social structure opposed to it. Political democracy in wes- 
tern Europe and North America, opening the door to national 
and individual progress, had also released new forces and ideas, 
aiming inevitably at economic equality. Conflict was inherent 
in the situation; there would either be an enlargement of that 
political democracy or attempts to curb it and end it. Democracy 
grew in content and area, in spite of constant opposition, and 
became the accepted ideal of political organization. But a time 
came when a further expansion endangered the basis of the social 
structure, and then the upholders of that structure became cla- 
mant and aggressive and organized themselves to oppose change. 
In countries so circumstanced that the crisis developed more 
rapidly, democracy was openly and deliberately crushed and 
fascism and nazism appeared. In the democracies of western 
Europe and North America the same processes were at play 
though many other factors delayed the crisis and probably the 
much longer tradition of peaceful and democratic government 
also helped. Behind some of these democracies lay empires where 
there was no democracy at all and where the same kind of 
authoritarianism which is associated with fascism prevailed. 
There also, as in fascist countries, the governing class allied itself 
to reactionary and opportunist groups and feudal survivals in 
order to suppress the demand for freedom. And there also they 
began to assert that democracy, though good as an ideal and 
desirable in their own home lands, was not suited to the peculiar 
conditions prevailing in their colonial domains. So it was a natural 
consequence for these western democracies to feel some kind of 
an ideological bond with fascism, even when they disliked many 
of its more brutal and vulgar manifestations. 

When they were forced to fight in self-defence, they looked 
forward to a restoration of that very structure which had failed 
so dismally. The war was looked upon and presented as a defen- 
sive war, and this was true enough in a way. But there was another 
aspect of the war, a moral aspect which went beyond military 

•481 



objectives and attacked aggressively the fascist creed and outlook. 
For it was a war, as has been said, for the soul of the peoples of the 
world. In it lay the seeds of change not only for the fascist coun- 
tries but also for the United Nations. This moral aspect of the war 
was obscured by powerful propaganda, and emphasis was laid 
on defence and perpetuation of the past and not on creating a 
new future. There were many people in the west who ardently 
believed in this moral aspect and wanted to create a new world 
which would afford some guarantees against that utter failure of 
human society which the World War represented. There were 
vast numbers of people everywhere, including especially the men 
who fought and died on the field of battle, who vaguely but firmly 
hoped for this change. And there were those hundreds of millions 
of the dispossessed and exploited and racially discriminated 
against in Europe and America, and much more so in Asia and 
Africa, who could not isolate the war from their memories of the 
past and their present misery, and passionately hoped, even when 
hope was unreasonable, that the war would somehow lift the 
burdens that crushed them. 

But the eyes of the leaders of the United Nations were turned 
elsewhere; they looked back to the past and not forward to the 
future. Sometimes they spoke eloquently of the future to appease 
the hunger of their people, but their policy had little to do with 
these fine phrases. For Mr. Winston Churchill it was a war of 
restoration and nothing more, a continuation, with minor changes, 
of both the social structure of England and the imperial structure 
of her empire. President Roosevelt spoke in terms of greater pro- 
mise, but his policy had not been radically different. Still many 
people all over the world looked to him with hope as a man of 
vision and high statesmanship. 

So the future for India and the rest of the world, in so far as 
the British ruling class could help it, would be in line with the 
past, and the present had necessarily to conform to it. In that 
very present the seeds of this future were being sown. The Cripps 
proposals, for all their seeming advance, created new and danger- 
ous problems for us, which threatened to become insuperable 
barriers to freedom. To some extent they have already had this 
result. The all-pervading autocracy and authoritarianism of 
the British Government in India, and the widespread suppression 
of the most ordinary civil rights and liberties, had reached their 
further limits during, and under cover of, the war. No one in the 
present generation had experienced the like of these. They were 
constant reminders of our enslaved condition and continuing 
humiliation. They were also a presage of the future, of the shape 
of things to come, for out of this present, the future would grow. 
Anything seemed to be better than to submit to this degradation. 

•482 



How many people out of India's millions felt this way is im- 
possible to say. For most of those millions all conscious feeling 
has been deadened by poverty and misery. Among the others were 
those who had been corrupted by office or privilege or vested 
interest, or whose minds had been diverted by special claims. Yet 
the feeling was very widespread, varying in intensity and some- 
times overlaid by other feelings. There were many gradations in 
it, from an intensity of belief and a desire to brave all hazards, 
which led inevitably to action, to a vague sympathy from a safe 
distance. Some, tragically inclined, felt suffocated and strangled 
at the lack of air to breathe in the oppressive atmosphere that 
surrounded them; others, living on the ordinary trivial plane, 
had more capacity to adapt themselves to conditions they disliked. 

The background of the British governing personnel in India 

was entirely different. Indeed nothing is more striking than the 
vast gulf that separates the mind of the British and the Indians 
and, whoever may be right or wrong, this very fact demonstrates 
the utter incapacity of the British to function as a ruling class in 
India. For there must be some harmony, some common outlook, 
between the rulers and the ruled if there is to be any advance; 
otherwise there can only be conflict, actual or potential. The 
British in India have always represented the most conservative 
elements of Britain; between them and the liberal tradition in 
England there is little in common. The more years they spend 
in India, the more rigid they grow in outlook, and when they 
retire and go back to England, they become the experts who 
advise on Indian problems. They are convinced of their own 
rectitude, of the benefits and necessity of British rule in India, 
of their own high mission in being -the representatives of the 
imperial tradition. Because the national Congress has challenged 
the whole basis of this rule and sought to rid India of it, it has 
become, in their eyes, Public Enemy No. 1. Sir Reginald Max- 
well, the then Home Member of the Government of India, speak- 
ing in the Central Assemby in 1941, gave a revealing glimpse of 
his mind. He was defending himself against the charge that 
Congressmen and socialists and communists, detained without 
trial in prison, were subjected to inhuman treatment, far worse 
than that given to German and Italian prisoners of war. He said 
that Germans and Italians were, at any rate, fighting for their 
countries, but these others were enemies of society who wanted 
to subvert the existing order. Evidently, it seemed to him prepos- 
terous that an Indian should want freedom for his country or 
should want to change the economic structure of India. As 
between the two his sympathies were obviously for the Germans 
and Italians, though his own country was engaged in a bitter war 
against them. This was before Russia entered the war and it was 

•483 



safe then to condemn every attempt to change the social order. 
Before World War II began, admiration for the fascist regimes 
was frequently expressed. Had not Hitler himself said, in his 'Mein 
Kampf and subsequently, that he wanted the British Empire to 
continue ? 

The Government of India certainly was anxious to help in 
every way in the war against the Axis powers. But in its mind that 
victory would be incomplete if it was not accompanied by another 
victory — the crushing of the nationalist movements in India as 
represented mainly by the Congress. The Cripps negotiations 
had perturbed it and it rejoiced at their failure. The way was 
now open to deal the final blow at the Congress and all those who 
sided with it. The moment was favourable, for at no previous 
time had there been such concentration of unlimited power, 
both at the centre and in the provinces, in the hands of the Viceroy 
and his principal subordinates. The war situation was a difficult 
one and it was a feasible argument that no opposition or trouble 
could be tolerated. Liberal elements in England and America, 
interested in India, had been quietened by the Cripps affair and 
the propaganda that followed. In England the ever-present feeling 
of self-righteousness in relation to India had grown. Indians, or 
many of them, it was felt there, were intransigent, troublesome 
persons, narrow in outlook, unable to appreciate the dangers of 
the situation, and probably in sympathy with the Japanese. Mr. 
Gandhi's articles and statements, it was said, had proved how 
impossible he was and the only way left open was to put an end 
to all this by crushing Gandhi and the Congress once for all. 



Mass Upheavals and their Suppression 

In the early morning of August 9th, 1942, numerous arrests were 
made all over India. What happened then? Only scraps of news 
trickled through to us after many weeks, and even now we can 
form only an incomplete picture of what took place. All the promi- 
nent leaders had been suddenly removed and no one seemed to 
know what should be done. Protests, of course, there had to be, 
and there were spontaneous demonstrations. These were broken 
up and fired upon, and tear-gas bombs were used; all the usual 
channels of giving expression to public feeling were stopped. 
And then all these suppressed emotions broke out and crowds 
gathered in cities and rural areas and came in conflict with the 
police and the military. They attacked especially what seemed to 
them the symbols of British authority and power, the police 
stations, post offices, and railway stations; they cut the telegraph 
and telephone wires. These unarmed and leaderless mobs faced 
police and military firing, according to official statements, on 

•484 



538 occasions, and they were also machine-gunned from low- 
flying aircraft. For a month or two or more these disturbances 
continued in various parts of the country and then they dwindled 
away and gave place to sporadic occurrences. 'The disturbances,' 
said Mr. Churchill in the House of Commons, 'were crushed with 
all the weight of the Government,' and he praised 'the loyalty 
and steadfastness of the brave Indian police as well as the Indian 
official class generally whose behaviour has been deserving of the 
highest praise.' He added that 'larger reinforcements have reached 
India and the number of white troops in that country is larger 
than at any time in the British connection.' These foreign troops 
and the Indian police had won many a battle against the un- 
armed peasantry of India and crushed their rebellion; and that 
other main prop of the British Raj in India, the official class, had 
helped, actively or passively, in the process. 

This reaction in the country was extraordinarily widespread, 
both in towns and villages. In almost all the provinces and in a 
large number of the Indian states there were innumerable 
demonstrations, in spite of official prohibition. There were hartals, 
closure of shops and markets and a stoppage of business every- 
where, varying in duration from a number of days to some weeks 
and, in a few cases, to over a month. So also labour strikes. More 
organized and used to disciplined group action, industrial workers 
in many important centres spontaneously declared strikes in 
protest against Government action in arresting national leaders. 
A notable instance of this was at the vital steel city of Jamshed- 
pur where the skilled workers, drawn from all over India, kept 
away from work for a fortnight and only agreed to return on the 
management promising that they would try their best to get the 
Congress leaders released and a national government formed. 
In the great textile centre of Ahmedabad also there was a sudden 
and complete stoppage of work in all the numerous factories 
without any special call from the trade union.* This general strike 
in Ahmedabad continued peacefully for over three months in 

* // has been stated by high Government officials, and frequently repeated by others, that these 
strikes, especially in Jamshedpur and Ahmedabad, were encouraged by the employers and 
millowners. This is hardly credible for the strikes involved the employers in very heavy losses, 
and I have yet to know big industrialists who work against their own interests in this manner. 
It is true that many industrialists sympathise with and desire India's independence, but their 
conception of India's freedom is necessarily one in which they have a secure place. They 
dislike revolutionary action and any vital change in the social structure. It is possible, how- 
ever, that influenced by the depth and widespread character of public feeling in August and 
September, 1942, they refrained from adopting that aggressive and punitive attitude, in 
co-operation with the police, which they usually indulge in when strikes take place. 

Another frequent assertion, almost taken for granted in British circles and the British press, 
is that the Indian Congress is heavily financed by the big industrialists. This is wholly 
untrue, and I ought to know something about it as I have been general secretary and president 
of the Congress for many years. A few industrialists have financially helpedfrom time to time 
in the social reform activities of Gandhiji and the Congress, such as, village industries, 

•485 



spite of all attempts to break it. It was a purely political and 
spontaneous reaction of the workers, and they suffered greatly, 
for it was a time of relatively high wages. They received no finan- 
cial help whatever from outside during this long period. At other 
centres the strikes were of briefer duration, lasting sometimes only 
for a few days. Cawnpore, another big textile centre, had, so far 
as I know, no major strike, chiefly because the communist leader- 
ship there succeeded in averting it. In the railways also, which are 
Government-owned, there was no marked or general stoppage 
of work, except such as was caused by the disturbances, and this 
latter was considerable. 

Among the provinces, the Punjab was probably the least affect- 
ed, but there were many hartals and strikes even there. The 
North-West Frontier Province, almost exclusively Moslem in 
population, occupied a peculiar position. To begin with, there 
were no mass arrests or other provocative action there on the 
part of the Government, as in the other provinces. This may 
have been partly due to the fact that the frontier people were 
considered inflammable material, but also partly to the policy 
of Government to show that Moslems were keeping apart from 
the nationalist upheaval. But when news of happenings in the rest 
of India reached the Frontier Province there were numerous 
demonstrations and even aggressive challenges to British author- 
ity. There was firing on the demonstrators and the usual methods 
of suppressing popular activities were adopted. Several thousands 
of people were arrested, and even the great Pathan leader Bad- 
shah Khan (as Abdul Ghaffar Khan is popularly known) was 
seriously injured by police blows. This was extreme provocation 
and yet, surprisingly enough, the excellent discipline, which 
Abdul Ghaffar Khan had established among his people, held, 
and there were no violent disturbances there of the kind that 
occurred in many parts of the country. 

The sudden, unorganized demonstrations and outbreaks on 
the part of the people, culminating in violent conflicts and 
destruction, and continued against overwhelming and powerful 

abolition of untouchability and raising of depressed classes, basic education, etc. But they 
have kept scrupulously aloof from the political work of the Congress, even in normal times, 
and much more so during periods of conflict with government. Whatever their occasional 
sympathies, they believe, like most sober and well-established individuals, in safety first. 
Congress work has been carried on almost entirely on the petty subscriptions and donations of 
its large membership. Most of the work has been voluntary and unpaid. Occasionally, in the 
cities, the merchants have helped a little. The only exception to this was probably during the 
general elections of 1937 when some big industrialists contributed to the central election fund. 
Even this fund, considering the scope of our activity, was inconsiderable. It is astonishing, 
and it will be incredible to westerners, with what little money we have carried on our work in 
the Congress during the last quarter of a century — a period when India has been convulsed 
repeatedly by political activity and direct action movements. In the United Provinces, one 
of our most active and well-organized provinces, and one with which I am best acquainted, 
almost our entire work was based on the four anna subscriptions of our members. 

•486 



armed forces, were a measure of the intensity of their feelings. 
Those feelings had been there even before the arrest of their 
leaders, but the arrests, and the frequent firings that followed 
them, roused the people to anger and to the only course that an 
enraged mob can follow. For a time there seems to have been 
a sense of uncertainty as to what should be done. There was no 
direction, no programme. There was no well-known person to 
lead them or tell them what to do, and yet they were too excited 
and angry to remain quiescent. As often happens in these circums- 
tances, local leaders sprang up and were followed for the moment. 
But even the guidance they gave was little; it was essentially a 
spontaneous mass upheaval. All over India, the younger gene- 
ration, especially university students, played an important part 
in both the violent and peaceful activities of 1942. Many univer- 
sities were closed. Some of the local leaders attempted even then 
to pursue peaceful methods of action and civil disobedience, but 
this was difficult in the prevailing atmosphere. The people forgot 
the lesson of non-violence which had been dinned into their ears 
for more than twenty years, and yet they were wholly unprepared, 
mentally or otherwise, for any effective violence. That very teach- 
ing of non-violent methods produced doubt and hesitation and 
came in the way of violent action. If the Congress, forgetful of 
its creed, had previously given even a hint of violent action, there 
is no doubt that the violence that actually took place would have 
increased a hundred-fold. 

But no such hint had been given, and, indeed, the last message 
of the Congress had again emphasized the importance of non- 
violence in action. Yet perhaps one fact had some effect on the 
public mind. If, as we had said, armed defence was legitimate 
and desirable against an enemy aggressor, why should that not 
apply to other forms of existing aggression? The prohibition of 
violent methods of attack and defence once removed had un- 
intended results, and it was not easy for most people to draw 
fine distinctions. All over the world extreme forms of violence 
were prevailing and incessant propaganda encouraged them. It 
became then a question of expediency and of intensity of feeling. 
Then there were also people, outside or in the Congress, who 
never had any belief in non-violence and who were troubled with 
no scruples in regard to violent action. 

But in the excitement of the moment few people think; they 
act in accordance with their long-suppressed urges which drive 
them forward. And so, for the first time since the great revolt 
of 1857, vast numbers of people again rose to challenge by force 
(but a force without arms!) the fabric of British rule in India. 
It was a foolish and inopportune challenge, for all the organized 
and armed force was on the other side, and in greater measure 

•487 



indeed than at any previous time in history. However great the 
numbers of the crowd, it cannot prevail in a contest of force 
against armed forces. It had to fail unless those armed forces 
themselves changed their allegiance. But those crowds had not 
prepared for the contest or chosen the time for it. It came upon 
them unawares and in their immediate reaction to it, however 
unthinking and misdirected it was, they showed their love of 
India's freedom and their hatred of foreign domination. 

Though the policy of non-violence went under, for the time 
being at least, the long training that the people had received 
under it had one important and desirable result. In spite of the 
passions aroused there was very little, if any, racial feeling, and, 
on the whole, there was a deliberate attempt on the part of the 
people to avoid causing bodily injury to their opponents. There 
was a great deal of destruction of communications and govern- 
mental property, but even in the midst of this destruction care 
was taken to avoid loss of life. This was not always possible or 
always attempted, especially in actual conflicts with the police 
or other armed forces. According to official reports, so far as I 
have been able to find them, about 100 persons were killed by 
mobs in the course of the disturbances all over India. This figure 
is very small considering the extent and area of the disturbances 
and the conflicts with the police. One particularly brutal and 
distressing case was the murder of two Canadian airmen by a 
mob somewhere in Bihar. But, generally speaking, the absence 
of racial feeling was very remarkable.* 

Official estimates of the number of people killed and wound- 
ed by police or military firing in the 1942 disturbances are: 
1,028 killed and 3,200 wounded. These figures are certainly gross 
under-estimates for it has been officially stated that such firing 
took place on at least 538 occasions, and besides this people were 
frequently shot at by the police or the military from moving 
lorries. It is very difficult to arrive at even an approximately 
correct figure. Popular estimates place the number of deaths at 
25,000, but probably this is an exaggeration. Perhaps 10,000 may 
be nearer the mark. 

It was extraordinary how British authority ceased to function 

*A revealing incident is reported in 'British Soldier Looks at India, ' being letters ofClive 
Branson. Branson was an artist and a communist. He served in the International Brigade 
in Spain, and in 1941 joined the Royal Armoured Corps, in which he was a sergeant. He 
was sent to India with his regiment in 1942. In February, 1944, he was killed in action 
in Arakan in Burma. He was in Bombay in August, 1942, after the arrest of the Congress 
leaders, and at a time when the people of Bombay were seething with anger and passion and 
were being shot down. Branson is reported to have said: ' What a clean healthy nationalism 
you have! I asked people the way to the Communist Party's office. I was in uniform. Men 
like me were shooting unarmed Indians, and naturally I was a little worried. I wondered 
how I would be treated. But everyone whom I asked was anxious to help — not one tried 
to insult or mislead me. ' 

•488 



over many areas, both rural and urban, and it took many days, 
and sometimes weeks, for a 'reconquest', as it was often termed. 
This happened particularly in Bihar, in the Midnapur district 
of Bengal and in the south-eastern districts of the United Pro- 
vinces. It is note-worthy that in the district of Ballia in the United 
Provinces (which had to be 'reconquered') there have been no 
serious allegations of physical violence and injury to human 
beings caused by the crowds, so far as one can judge from the 
numerous subsequent trials by special tribunals. The ordinary 
police proved incapable of meeting the situation. Early in 1942, 
however, a new force called the Special Armed Constabulary 
(S.A.C.) had been created and this had been especially trained 
to deal with popular demonstrations and disturbances. This played 
an important part in curbing and suppressing the people and 
often functioned after the manner of the 'Black and Tarts' in 
Ireland. The Indian army was not often used in this connection, 
except for certain groups and classes in it. British soldiers were 
more often employed, and also the Gurkhas. Sometimes Indian 
soldiers as well as the special police were sent to distant parts of 
the country where they functioned more or less as strangers, being 
unacquainted with the language. 

If the reaction of the crowd was natural, so also, in the cir- 
cumstances, was the reaction of the government. It had to crush 
both the impromptu frenzy of the mob and the peaceful demon- 
strations of other people and, in the interests of its own self- 
preservation, attempt to destroy those whom it considered its 
enemies. If it had had the capacity or desire to understand and 
appreciate what moved the people so powerfully, the crisis would 
not have risen at all and India's problem would have been nearer 
solution. The government had prepared carefully to crush once 
for all, as it thought, any challenge to its authority; it had taken 
the initiative and chosen the time for its first blow; it had removed 
to its prisons thousands of men and women who had played a 
prominent part in the nationalist, the labour, and the peasant 
movements. Yet it was surprised and taken aback by the upheaval 
that suddenly convulsed the country and, momentarily, its wides- 
pread apparatus of repression was disjoined. But it had enormous 
resources at its command and it utilized them to crush both the 
violent and non-violent manifestations of the rebellion. Many 
of the upper and richer classes, timidly nationalist, and sometimes 
even critical of government, were frightened by this exhibition of 
mass action on an All-India scale, which cared little for vested 
interests and smelt not only of political revolution but also of social 
change. As the success of the government in crushing the rebellion 
became apparent, the waverers and the opportunists lined up with it 
and began to curse all those who had dared to challenge authority. 

The external evidences of rebellion having been crushed, its 

•489 



very roots had to be pulled out, and so the whole apparatus of 
government was turned in this direction in order to enforce 
complete submission to British domination. Laws could be pro- 
duced over-night by the Viceroy's decree or ordinance, but even 
the formalities of these laws were reduced to a minimum. The 
decisions of the Federal Court and the High Courts, which were 
creations and emblems of British authority, were flouted and 
ignored by the executive, or a new ordinance was issued to over- 
ride those decisions. Special tribunals (which were subsequently 
held by the courts to be illegal) were established, functioning 
without the trammels of the ordinary rules of procedure and 
evidence, and these sentenced thousands to long terms of impri- 
sonment and many even to death. The police (and especially the 
Special Armed Constabulary) and the secret service were all 
powerful and became the chief organs of the state, and could 
indulge in any illegalities or brutalities without criticism or 
hindrance. Corruption grew to giant proportions. Vast numbers 
of students in schools and colleges were punished in various ways 
and thousands of young men were flogged. Public activity of all 
kinds was prohibited unless it was in favour of the government. 

But the greatest sufferers were the simple-hearted, poverty- 
stricken villagers of the rural areas. Suffering, for many genera- 
tions, had been the badge of their tribe; they had ventuied to 
look up and hope, to dream of better times; they had even roused 
themselves to action; whether they had been foolish or mistaken 
or not, they had proved their loyalty to the cause of Indian free- 
dom. Their effort had failed, and the burden had fallen on their 
bent shoulders and broken bodies. Cases were reported of whole 
villages being sentenced from flogging to death. It was stated on 
behalf of the Bengal Government that 'Government forces burnt 
193 Congress camps and houses in the sub-divisions of Tamluk 
and Contai before and after the cyclone of 1942.' The cyclone 
had worked havoc in that area and created a wilderness but that 
made no difference to the official policy. 

Huge sums were imposed on villages as a whole as punitive 
fines. According to Mr. Amery's statement in the House of 
Commons, the total collective fines amounted to rupees ninety 
lakhs (9,000,000), and out of this Rs. 7,850,000 were realized. 
How these vast sums were realized from starving wretches is 
another matter, and nothing that took place in 1942 or after, not 
the shooting and the burning by the police, caused such an inten- 
sity of suffering as this forcible realization. Not merely were the 
fines imposed realized, but often much more, the excess vanish- 
ing in the process of realization. 

All the conventions and subterfuges that usually veil the acti- 
vities of governments were torn aside and only naked force re- 
mained as the symbol of power and authority. There was no 

•490 



further need for subterfuge for the British power had succeeded, 
at least for the time being, in crushing both the non-violent and 
violent attempts made to replace it by a national authority and 
stood supreme in India. India had failed in that final test when 
strength and power only count and all else is mere quibbling and 
irrelevance. She had failed not only because of British armed 
might and the confusion produced by the war situation in people's 
minds, but also because many of her own people were not pre- 
pared for that last sacrifice which freedom requires. So the British 
felt they had firmly re-established their rule in India and they 
saw no reason to loosen their hold again. 

Reactions Abroad 

A strict censorship cast a heavy veil over the happenings in India. 
Even newspapers in India were not permitted to give publicity 
to much that was daily taking place, and messages to foreign 
countries were subject to an ever stricter surveillance. At the 
same time official propaganda was let loose abroad and false and 
tendentious accounts were circulated. The United States of Ame- 
rica were especially flooded with this propaganda, for opinion 
there was held to count, and hundreds of lecturers and others, 
both English and Indian, were sent there to tour the country. 

Even apart from this propaganda, it was natural in England, 
suffering the strain and anxiety of war, for resentment to be felt 
against Indians and especially those who were adding to their 
troubles in time of crisis. One-sided propaganda added to this 
and, even more so, the conviction of the British in their own 
righteousness. Their very lack of awareness of others' feelings bad 
been their strength and it continued to justify actions taken on 
their behalf, and to cast the blame for any mishap on the iniquity 
of others who were so blind to the obvious virtues of the British. 
Those virtues had now been justified afresh by the success of 
British forces and the Indian police in crushing those in India 
who had ventured to doubt them. Empire had been justified and 
Mr. Winston Churchill declared, with special reference to India: 
T have not become the King's first minister in order to preside 
over the liquidation of the British Empire.' In saying so, Mr. 
Churchill undoubtedly represented the viewpoint of the vast 
majority of his people, and even of many who had previously 
criticized the theory and practice of imperialism. The leaders of 
the British Labour Party, anxious to demonstrate that they were 
behind no other group in their attachment to the imperial tradi- 
tion, supported Mr. Churchill's statement and 'stressed the resolve 
of the British people to keep the empire together after the war.' 

In America, opinion, in so far as it was interested in the far 
away problem of India, was divided, for people there were not 

•491 



equally convinced of the virtues of the British ruling class and 
looked with some disapproval on other peoples' empires. They 
were also anxious to gain India's goodwill and utilize her re- 
sources fully in the war against Japan. Yet one-sided and ten- 
dentious propaganda inevitably produced results, and there was 
a feeling that the Indian problem was far too complicated for 
them to tackle, and anyway it was difficult for them to interfere 
in the affairs of their British ally. 

What those in authority, or people generally, in Russia thought 
about India it was impossible to say. They were far too busy with 
their stupendous war effort, and with driving the invader from 
their country, to think of matters of no immediate concern to 
them. Yet they were used to thinking far ahead and they were 
not likely to ignore India which touched their frontiers in Asia. 
What their future policy would be no one could say, except that 
it would be realistic and principally concerned with adding to 
the political and economic strength of the U.S.S.R. They had 
carefully avoided all reference to India, but Stalin had declared 
in November, 1942, on the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary 
of the Soviet Revolution, that their general policy was: 'Aboli- 
tion of racial exclusiveness, equality of nations and integrity of 
their territories, liberation of the enslaved nations and restoration 
of their sovereign rights, the right of every nation to arrange its 
affairs as it wishes, economic aid to nations that have suffered 
and assistance to them in attaining their material welfare, resto- 
ration of democratic liberties, the destruction of the Hitlerite 
regime.' 

In China, it was evident that, whatever the reaction of the 
people to any particular action of ours, their sympathies were 
entirely on the side of Indian freedom. That sympathy had histo- 
rical roots, but, even more so, it was based on the realization 
that unless India was free, China's freedom might be endangered. 
It was not in China only but throughout Asia, Egypt, and the 
Middle East, Indian freedom had become a symbol of a larger 
freedom for other subject and dependent countries, a test in the 
present and a measuring rod for the future. Mr. Wendell Willkie 
in his book — 'One World' — says: 'Many men and women I have 
talked with from Africa to Alaska asked me the question which 
has become almost a symbol all through Asia: What about India? 
.. .From Cairo on, it confronted me at every turn. The wisest 
man in China said to me: "When the aspiration of India for 
freedom was put aside to some future date, it was not Great 
Britain that suffered in public esteem in the Far East. It was the 
United States." ' 

What had happened in India had compelled the world to look 
at India for a while, even in the midst of the war crisis, and to 
think of the basic problems of the east; it had stirred the mind 
•492 



and heart of every country of Asia. Even though, for the moment, 
the Indian people appeared helpless in the powerful grip of British 
imperialism, they had demonstrated that there would be no peace 
in India or Asia unless India was free. 

Reactions in India 

Foreign rule over a civilized community suffers from many dis- 
advantages and many ills follow in its train. One of these dis- 
advantages is that it has to rely on the less desirable elements 
in the population.. The idealists, the proud, the sensitive, the 
self-respecting, those who care sufficiently for freedom and are 
not prepared to degrade themselves by an enforced submission 
to an alien authority, keep aloof or come into conflict with it. 
The proportion of careerists and opportunists in its ranks is much 
higher than it would normally be in a free country. Even in an 
independent country with an autocratic form of government 
many sensitive people are unable to co-operate in governmental 
activities, and there are very few opportunities for the release of 
new talent. 

An alien government, which must necessarily be authoritarian 
suffers from all these disadvantages and adds to them, for it has 
always to function in an atmosphere of hostility and suppression. 
Fear becomes the dominant motive of both the government and 
the people, and the most important services are the police and 
the secret service. 

When there is an actual conflict between the Government and 
the people, this tendency to rely on and encourage the undesir- 
able elements in the population becomes even more strongly 
marked. Many conscientious people, of course, through force of 
circumstances, have to continue functioning in the governmental 
structure, whether they like it or not. But those who come to 
the top and play the most important roles are chosen for their 
anti-nationalism, their subservience, their capacity to crush and 
humiliate their own countrymen. The highest merit is opposi- 
tion, often the result of personal rivalries and disappointments, 
to the sentiments and feelings of the great majority of the people. 

In this turgid and unwholesome atmosphere no idealism or 
noble sentiment has any place, and the prizes held out are high 
positions and big salaries. The incompetence or worse failings 
of the supporters of government have to be tolerated, for the 
measure of everything is the active support given to that govern- 
ment in crushing its opponents. This leads to government cohabit- 
ing with strange groups and very odd persons. Corruption, cruelty, 
callousness, and a complete disregard of the public welfare flourish 
and poison the air.* 

* The Bengal Administrative Inquiry Committee, presided over by Sir Archibald R inlands, 

•493 



While much that the Government does is bitterly resented, far 
greater resentment is caused by those Indian supporters of it 
who become more royalist than the king. The average Indian 
has a feeling of disgust and nausea at this behaviour, and to him 
such people are comparable to the men of Vichy or the puppet 
regimes set up by the German and Japanese governments. This 
feeling is not confined to Congress men but extends to members 
of the Moslem League and other organizations, and is expressed 
even by the most moderate of our politicians.* 

The war afforded a sufficient excuse and was a cover for 
intense anti-national activities of the Government and novel 
forms of propaganda. Mushroom labour groups were financed to 
build up "labour morale,' and newspapers containing scurrilous 
attacks on Gandhi and the Congress were started and subsidized, 
in spite of the paper shortage which came in the way of other 
newspapers functioning. Official advertisements, supposed to be 
connected with the war effort, were also utilized for this purpose. 
Information centres were opened in foreign countries to carry on 
continuous propaganda on behalf of the Government of India. 
Crowds of undistinguished and often unknown individuals were 
sent on officially organized deputations, especially to the U.S.A., 
despite the protest of the central assembly, to act as propaganda 
agents and stools of the British Government. Persons holding 
independent views or critical of Government policy had no chance 
of going abroad; they could neither get a passport nor transport 
facilities. 

All these and many other devices have been employed by the 
Government during the last two years to create a semblance of 
what it considers 'public tranquillity.' Political and public life 
becomes dormant, as, indeed, it must in a country more or less 
under military occupation and rule. But this forcible suppres- 

in their report, issued in May, 1945, say: 'So widespread has corruption become, and so 
defeatist is the attitude taken towards it, that we think that the most drastic steps should be 
taken to stamp out the evil which has corrupted the public service and public morals. ' The 
Committee received, with surprise and regret, evidence that the attitude of some civil servants 
towards the public left much to be desired. It was stated that 'they adopt an attitude of aloof 
superiority, appear to pay greater regard to the mechanical operation of a soulless machine 
than to promoting the welfare of the people and look upon themselves rather as masters than 
as servants of the people. ' 

* Hitler, an expert in compelling others to submit to his yoke, says in 'Mein Kampf: 
'We must not expect embodiments of characterless submission suddenly to repent in order, on 
the basis of intelligence and all human experience, to act otherwise than hitherto. On the 
contrary, these very people will hold every such lesson at a distance, until the notion is 
either once and for all accustomed to its slave's yoke, or until better forces push to the 
surface to wrest power from the infamous corrupters. In the first case these people 
continue to feel not at all badly since they not infrequently are entrusted by the victors 
with the office of slave overseer, which these characterless types then exercise over their 
own nation and that generally more heartlessly than any alien beast imposed by the 
enemy himself. ' 

•494 



sion of symptoms can only cause an aggravation of the disease, 
and India is very sick. Prominent Indian conservatives, who 
have always tried to co-operate with the Government, have been 
filled with anxiety at this volcano which has been temporarily 
sealed at its mouth, and they have stated that they have never 
known such bitterness against the British Government. 

I do not know and cannot tell till I come into contact with 
my people how they have changed during these two years and 
what feelings stir in their hearts, but I have little doubt that these 
recent experiences have changed them in many ways. I have 
looked into my own mind from time to time and examined its 
almost involuntary reaction to events. I had always looked for- 
ward in the past to a visit to England, because I have many 
friends there and old memories draw me. But now I found that 
there was no such desire and the idea was distasteful. I wanted 
to keep as far away from England as possible, and I had no wish 
even to discuss India's problems with Englishmen. And then I 
remembered some friends and softened a little, and I told myself 
how wrong it was to judge a whole people in this way. I thought 
also of the terrible experiences that the English people had gone 
through in this war, of the continuous strain in which they had 
lived, of the loss of so many of their loved ones. All this helped 
to tone down my feelings, but that basic reaction remained. 
Probably time and the future will lessen it and give another pers- 
pective. But if I, with all my associations with England and the 
English, could feel that way, what of others who had lacked those 
contacts ? 

India's Sickness: Famine 

India was very sick, both in mind and body. While some people 
had prospered during the war, the burden on others had reached 
breaking point, and as an awful reminder of this came famine, 
a famine of vast dimensions affecting Bengal and east and south 
India. It was the biggest and most devastating famine in India 
during the past 170 years of British dominion, comparable to 
those terrible famines which occurred from 1766 to 1770 in 
Bengal and Bihar as an early result of the establishment of British 
rule. Epidemics followed, especially cholera and malaria, and 
spread to other provinces, and even to-day they are taking their 
toll of scores of thousands of lives. Millions have died of famine 
and disease and yet that spectre hovers over India and claims its 
victims.* 

* Estimates of the number of deaths by famine in Bengal in 1943-44 vary greatly. The 
Department of Anthropology of the Calcutta University carried out an extensive scientific 
survey of sample groups in the famine areas. They arrived at the figure of about 3,400,000 
total deaths by famine in Bengal. It was also found that during 1943 and 1944, 46 per 

•495 



This famine unveiled the picture of India as it was below the 
thin veneer of the prosperity of a small number of people at the 
top — a picture of poverty and ugliness of British rule. That was 
the culmination and fulfilment of British rule in India. It was 
no calamity of nature or play of the elements that brought this 
famine, nor was it caused by actual war operations and enemy 
blockade. Every competent observer is agreed that it was a man- 
made famine which could have been foreseen and avoided. Every 
one is agreed that there was amazing indifference, incompetence, 
and complacency shown by all the authorities concerned. Right 
up to the last moment, when thousands were dying daily in the 
public streets, famine was denied and references to it in the Press 
were suppressed by the censors. When the Statesman, newspaper 
of Calcutta, published gruesome and ghastly pictures of starving 
and dying women and children in the streets of Calcutta, a spokes- 
man of the Government of India, speaking officially in the central 
assembly, protested against the 'dramatization' of the situation; 
to him apparently it was a normal occurrence for thousands to 
die daily from starvation in India. Mr. Amery, of the India Office 
in London, distinguished himself especially by his denials and 
statements. And then, when it became impossible to deny or 
cloak the existence of widespread famine, each group in authority 
blamed some other group for it. The Government of India said 
it was the fault of the provincial government, which itself was 
merely a puppet government functioning under the Governor 
and through the civil service. They were all to blame, but most 
of all inevitably that authoritarian government which the Viceroy 
represented in his person and which could do what it chose any- 
where in India. In any democratic or semi-democratic country 
such a calamity would have swept away all the governments con- 
cerned with it. Not so in India where everything continued as 
before. 

Considered even from the point of view of the war, this famine 
took place in the very region which stood nearest to the theatre 
of war and possible invasion. A widespread famine and collapse 
of the economic structure would inevitably injure the capacity 
for defence and even more so for offence. Thus did the Govern- 
ment of India discharge its responsibility for India's defence and 
the prosecution of the war against the Japanese aggressors. Not 
scorched earth but scorched and starved and dead human beings 

cent of the people of Bengal suffered from major diseases. Official figures of the Bengal 
Government, based largely on unreliable reports from village patwaris or headmen, gave a 
much lower figure. The official Famine Inquiry Commission, presided over by Sir John 
Woodhead, has come to the conclusion that about 1,500,000 deaths occurred in Bengal 'as 
a direct result of the famine and the epidemics which followed in its train. ' All these figures 
relate to Bengal alone. Many other parts ofthe country also sufferedfrom famine and epidemic 
diseases consequent upon it. 

•496 



by the million in this vital war area were the emblems of the policy 
that Government had pursued. 

Indian non-official organizations from all over the country did 
good work in bringing relief, and so did those efficient humani- 
tarians, the Quakers of England. The central and provincial 
governments also at last woke up and realized the immensity of 
the crisis and the army was utilized in the relief operations. For 
the moment something was done to check the spread of famine 
and mitigate its after-effects. But the relief was temporary and 
those after-effects continue, and no one knows when famine may 
not descend again on an even worse scale. Bengal is broken up, 
her social and economic life shattered, and an enfeebled gene- 
ration left as survivors. 

While all this was happening and the streets of Calcutta were 
strewn with corpses, the social life of the upper ten thousand of 
Calcutta underwent no change. There was dancing and feasting 
and a flaunting of luxury, and life was gay. There was no ration- 
ing even till a much later period. The horse races in Calcutta 
continued and attracted their usual fashionable throngs. Trans- 
port was lacking for food, but racehorses came in special boxes 
by rail from other parts of the country. In this gay life both 
Englishmen and Indians took part for both had prospered in the 
business of war and money was plentiful. Sometimes that money 
had been gained by profiteering in the very foodstuffs, the lack of 
which was killing tens of thousands daily. 

India, it is often said, is a land of contrasts, of some very rich 
and many very poor, of modernism and mediasvalism, of rulers 
and ruled, of the British and Indians. Never before had these 
contrasts been so much in evidence as in the city of Calcutta 
during those terrible months of famine in the latter half of 1943. 
The two worlds, normally living apart, almost ignorant of each 
other, were suddenly brought physically together and existed 
side by side. The contrast was startling, but even more startling 
was the fact that many people did not realize the horror and 
astonishing incongruity of it and continued to function in their 
old grooves. What they felt one cannot say; one can only judge 
them by their actions. For most Englishmen this was perhaps 
easier for they had lived their life apart and, caste-bound as they 
were, they could not vary their old routine, even if some indivi- 
duals felt the urge to do so. But those Indians who functioned 
in this way showed the wide gulf that separated them from their 
own people, which no considerations even of decency and hu- 
manity could bridge. 

The famine, like every great crisis, brought out both the good 
qualities and the failings of the Indian people. Large numbers 
of them, including the most vital elements, were in prison and 
unable to help in any way. Still the relief works, organized un- 

•497 



officially, drew men and women from every class who laboured 
hard under discouraging circumstances, displaying ability, the 
spirit of mutual help and co-operation and self-sacrifice. The 
failings were also evident in those who were too full of their petty 
rivalries and jealousies to co-operate together, those who remained 
passive and did nothing to help others, and those few who were 
so denationalized and dehumanized as to care little for what was 
happening. 

The famine was a direct result of war conditions and the care- 
lessness and complete lack of foresight of those in authority. The 
indifference of the authorities to the problem of the country's 
food passes comprehension when every intelligent man who gave 
thought to the matter knew that some such crisis was approach- 
ing. The famine could have been avoided, given proper handling 
of the food situation in the earlier years of the war. In every other 
country affected by the war full attention was paid to this vital 
aspect of war economy even before the war started. 

In India, the Government of India started a food department 
three and a quarter years after the war began in Europe and over 
a year after the Japanese war started. And yet it was common 
knowledge that the Japanese occupation of Burma vitally affected 
Bengal's food supply. The Government of India had no policy 
at all in regard to food till the middle of 1943 when famine 
was already beginning its disastrous career. It is most extraord- 
inary how inefficient the Government always is in every matter 
other than the suppression of those who challenge its admini- 
stration. Or perhaps it is more correct to say that, constituted 
as it is, its mind is completely occupied in its primary task of 
ensuring its own continuance. Only an actual crisis forces it to 
think of other matters. That crisis again is accentuated by the 
ever-present crisis of want of confidence in the Government's 
ability and bona fides.* 

* The Famine Inquiry Commission, presided over by Sir John Woodhead (Report published 
in May, 19/5), reveal in restrained official language the tragic succession of official errors 
and private greed which led to the Bengal famine. 'It has been for us a sad task,' they say, 
'to inquire into the course and causes of the Bengalfamine We have been haunted by a deep 
sense of tragedy. A million and a half of the poor of Bengal fell victims to circumstances for 
which they themselves were not responsible. Society, together with its organs, failed to protect 
its weaker members. Indeed there was a moral and social breakdown, as well as administra- 
tive breakdowns. ' They refer to the low economic level of the province, to the increasing 
pressure on land not relieved by growth of industry, to the fact that a considerable section of 
the population was living on the margin of subsistence and was uncapable of standing any 
severe economic stress, to the very bad health conditions and low standards of nutrition, to 
the absence of a 'margin of safety' as regards either health or wealth. They consider the 
more immediate causes to be: the failure of the season's crop, the fall of Burma leading to 
stoppage of imports of Burma rice, to the 'denial' policy of Government which brought ruin 
to certain poorer classes, to the military demands on food and transport, and the lack of 
confidence in the Government. They condemn the policy, or often the lack of policy or the 
ever-changing policy, of both the Government of India and of the Bengal Government; their 
inability to think ahead and provide for coming events; their refusal to recognize and declare 

•498 



Though the famine was undoubtedly due to war conditions 
and could have been prevented, it is equally true that its deeper 
causes lay in the basic policy which was impoverishing India 
and under which millions lived on the verge of starvation. In 
1933 Major General Sir John Megaw, the Director-General of 
the Indian Medical Service, wrote in the course of a report on 
public health in India: 'Taking India as a whole the dispensary 
doctors regard 39 per cent of the people as being well nourished, 
41 per cent as poorly nourished, and 20 per cent as very badly 
nourished. The most depressing picture is painted by the doctors 
of Bengal who regard only 22 per cent of the people of the pro- 
vince as being well nourished while 31 per cent are considered to 
be very badly nourished.' 

The tragedy of Bengal and the famines of Orissa, Malabar, 
and other places are the final judgment on British rule in India. 
The British will certainly leave India, and their Indian Empire 
will become a memory, but what will they leave when they have 
to go, what human degradation and accumulated sorrow? Tagore 
saw this picture as he lay dying three years ago: 'But what kind of 
India will they leave behind, what stark misery? When the stream 
of their centuries' administration runs dry at last, what a waste 
of mud and filth they will leave behind them!' 

India's Dynamic Capacity 

The stream of life goes on in spite of famine and war, full of its 
inherent contradictions, and finding sustenance even in those 
contradictions and the disasters that follow in their train. Nature 
renews itself and covers yesterday's battlefield with flowers and 

famine even when it had come; their totally inadequate measures to meet the situation. They 
go on to say: 'But often considering all the circumstances, we cannot avoid the conclusion 
that it lay in the power of the Govtrnment of Bengal, by hold, resolute and well-conceived 
measures at the right time to have largely prevented the tragedy of the famine as it actually 
took place. Further, that the Government of India failed to recognize at a sufficiently early 
date the need for a system of planned movement of food grains.... The Government of 
India must share with the Bengal Government responsibility for the decision to decontrol 
in March, I9t3.. . . The subsequent proposal of the Government of India to introduce free 
trade throughout the greater part of India was quite unjustified and should not have been 
put forward. Its application, successfully resisted by many of the provinces and states. . . might 
have led to serious catastrophies in various parts of India. ' 

After referring to the apathy and mismanagement of the governmental apparatus both 
at the centre and in the province, the Commission say that 'the public in Bengal, or at 
least certain sections of it, have also their share of blame. We have referred to the atmosphere 
of fear and greed which, in the absence of control, was one of the causes of the rapid rise 
in the price level. Enormous profits were made out of the calamity, and in the circumstances 
profits for some meant death for others. A large part of the community lived in plenty while 
others starved, and there was much indifference inface of suffering. Corruption was widespread 
throughout the province and in many classes of society.' The total profit made in this traffic 
of starvation and death is estimated at 150 crores of rupees (Rs. 1,500 millions). Thus if 
there were a million and a half deaths by famine, each death was balanced by roughly a 
1,000 rupees of excess profit! 

•499 



green grass, and the blood that was shed feeds the soil and gives 
strength and colour to new life. Human beings with their unique 
quality of possessing memory live in their storied and remembered 
pasts and seldom catch up to the present in 'The worlde that 
neweth every daie.' And that present slips into the past before we 
are hardly aware of it; to-day, child of yesterday, yields place to 
its own offspring, to-morrow. Winged victory ends in a welter of 
blood and mud; and out of the heavy trials of seeming defeat the 
spirit emerges with new strength and wider vision. The weak in 
spirit yield and are eliminated, but others carry the torch forward 
and hand it to the standard-bearers of to-morrow. 

The famine in India brought some realization of the terrible 
urgency of India's problems, of the overwhelming disaster that 
hung over the country. What people in England felt about it I 
do not know, but some of them, as is their way, cast the blame 
on India and her people. There was lack of food, lack of doctors, 
lack of sanitation and medical supplies, lack of transport, lack 
of everything except human beings, for the population had grown 
and seemed to be growing. This excessive population of an improvi- 
dent race, growing without notice or warning and upsetting the 
plans or planlessness of a benevolent government, must be to 
blame. And so, economic problems suddenly assumed a new 
importance and we were told that politics and political problems 
had to be put aside, as if politics has any meaning at all unless 
it can solve the major problems of the day. The Government of 
India, one of the few representatives of the laissez-faire tradition 
in the world, began to talk of planning, but of organized planning 
it had no notion. It could only think in terms of preserving the 
existing structure and its own and allied vested interests. 

The reaction on the people of India was deeper and more 
powerful, though it found little public expression owing to the 
widespread tentacles of the Defence of India Act and its rules. 
There had been a complete collapse of the economic structure of 
Bengal and tens of millions of people had been literally broken 
up. Bengal was an extreme example of what was happening in 
many parts of India and it seemed that there could be no going 
back to the old economy. Even the industrialists who had pros- 
pered so much during the war were shaken up and compelled to 
look beyond their narrow sphere. They were realists in their own 
way, rather afraid of the idealism of some of the politicians, but 
that realism itself led them to far-reaching conclusions. A number 
of Bombay industrialists, chiefly connected with the Tata enter- 
prises, produced a fifteen-year plan for India's development. 
That plan is still not complete and there are many lacunae in it. 
Inevitably it is conditioned by the ways of thinking of big industry 
and tries to avoid revolutionary changes as far as possible. Yet 

•500 



the very pressure of events in India has forced them to think in 
a big way and to go out of many of their accustomed grooves of 
thought. Revolutionary changes are inherent in the plan, though 
the authors may themselves not like some of them. Some of these 
authors of the plan were members of the national planning com- 
mittee and they have taken advantage of a part of its work. This 
plan will undoubtedly have to be varied, added to and worked out 
in many ways, but, coming from conservative quarters, it is a wel- 
come and encouraging sign of the way India must go. It is based on 
a free India and on the political and economic unity of India. 
The conservative banker's view of money is not allowed to domi- 
nate the scene, and it is emphasized that the real capital of the 
country consists of its resources in material and manpower. The 
success of this or any otheir plan must inevitably depend not merely 
on production but on a proper and equitable distribution of the 
national wealth created. Also, agrarian reform is a fundamental 
prerequisite. 

The idea of planning and a planned society is accepted now in 
varying degrees by almost everyone. But planning by itself has 
little meaning and need not necessarily lead to good results. 
Everything depends on the objectives ofthe plan and on the control- 
ling authority, as well as, of course, the government behind it. 
Does the plan aim definitely at the well-being and advancement of 
the people as a whole, at the opening out of opportunity to all 
and the growth of freedom and methods of co-operative organiza- 
tion and action? Increase ofproduction is essential, but obviously 
by itself it does not take us far and may even add to the complexity 
of our problems. An attempt to preserve old-established privileges 
and vested interests cuts at the very root of planning. Real plan- 
ning must recognize that no such special interests can be allowed 
to come in the way of any scheme designed to further the well- 
being ofthe community as a whole. The Congress governments in 
the provinces were hampered and restricted in all directions by 
the basic assumption of the Parliamentary statute that most of 
these vested interests must not be touched. Even their partial 
attempts to change the land tenure system and to impose an income- 
tax on incomes from land were challenged in the law courts. 

If planning is largely controlled by big industrialists, it will 
naturally be envisaged within the framework of the system they 
are used to, and will be essentially based on the profit motive of 
an acquisitive society. However well-intentioned they might be, 
and some of them certainly are full of good intentions, it is diffi- 
cult for them to think on new lines. Even when they talk of state 
control of industry they think ofthe state more or less as it is to-day. 

We are sometimes told that the present Government of India, 
with its ownership and control of railways, and a growing control 

•501 



of and interference in industry, finance, and, indeed, life in general, 
is moving in a socialist direction. But this is something utterly 
different from democratic state control, apart from being essentially 
foreign control. Though there is a limitation of certain capitalist 
functions, the system is based on the protection of privilege. The 
old authoritarian colonial system ignored economic problems 
except in so far as certain special interests were concerned. Finding 
itself unable to meet the necessities of the new situation by its old 
laissez-faire methods, and yet bent on preserving its authoritarian 
character, it goes inevitably in a fascist direction. It tries to control 
economic operations by fascist methods, suppresses such civil 
liberties as exist, and adapts its own autocratic government as well 
as the capitalist system, with some variations, to the new conditions. 
Thus the endeavour is, as in fascist countries, to build up a mono- 
lithic state, with considerable control of industry and national 
life, and with many limitations on free enterprise, but based on 
the old foundations. This is very far from socialism; indeed, it is 
absurd to talk of socialism in a country dominated by an alien 
power. Whether such an attempt can succeed, even in a temporary 
sense, is very doubtful, for it only aggravates the existing problems; 
but war conditions certainly give it a favourable environment to 
work in. Even a complete nationalization (so-called) of industry 
unaccompanied by political democracy will lead only to a different 
kind of exploitation, for while industry will then belong to the 
state, the state itself will not belong to the people. 

Our major difficulties in India are due to the fact that we 
consider our problems - economic, social, industrial, agricul- 
tural, communal, Indian states — within the framework of exist- 
ing conditions. Within that framework, and retaining the 
privileges and special "status that are part of it, they become 
impossible of solution. Even if some patchwork solution is arrived 
at under stress of circumstances, it does not and cannot last. The 
old problems continue and new problems, or new aspects of old 
problems, are added to them. This approach of ours is partly 
due to tradition and old habit, but essentially it is caused by the 
steel-frame of the British Government which holds together the 
ramshackle structure. 

The war has accentuated the many contradictions existing in 
India — political, economic, and social. Politically, there is a 
great deal of talk of Indian freedom and independence, and yet 
her people have probably at no time in their long history been 
subjected to such authoritarian rule and intensive and wide- 
spread repression as exist to-day, and out of this to-day to- 
morrow will necessarily grow. Economically, British domination 
is also paramount, and yet the expansive tendency of Indian 
economy is continually straining at the leash. There is famine 
and widespread misery and, on the other hand, there is an 
502 



accumulation of capital. Poverty and riches go side by side, 
decay and building up, disruption and unity, dead thought and 
new. Behind all the distressing features there is an inner vitality 
which cannot be suppressed. 

Outwardly the war has encouraged India's industrial growth 
and production, and yet it is doubtful how far this has led to 
the establishment of new industries, or is merely an extension 
and diversion of old industries. The apparent stability of the 
index of India's industrial activity during war-time indicates 
that no fundamental advance has been made. Indeed, some 
competent observers are of the opinion that the war and British 
policy during it have actually had a hampering effect on India's 
industrial growth. Dr. John Mathai, an eminent economist and 
a director of Tata's, said recently: 'The general belief. . .that 
the war has tremendously accelerated India's industrial progress 
is a proposition which, to say the least, would need a lot of 
proving. While it is true that certain established industries have 
increased their production in response to the war demand, seve- 
ral new industries of fundamental importance to the country, 
which had been projected before the war have, under stress of 
war conditions, been either abandoned or been unable to reach 
completion. My personal view is that, on a careful balance of 
the various factors in the situation, it will be found that, unlike 
countries such as Canada and Australia, the war has been more 
a hampering than an accelerating influence in India. I agree, 
however. . . that India has sufficient potential capacity to supply 
her basic manufactured needs.' Such statistical evidence of in- 
dustrial activity as is available supports this view, and indicates 
that if pre-war progress could have been maintained at the old 
rate it would have led not only to the establishment of new 
industries, but also to far greater production as a whole.* 

What the war has demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt 
is India's capacity to convert this potential into actuality with 
remarkable speed, given the opportunity to do so. Functioning 
as an economic unit, she has accumulated large capital assets 

*Mr. J. R. D. Tata, speaking in London on May 30th, 1945, also denied that the war had 
enabled India materially to expand her industries and industrial capacity. 'There may have 
been isolated cases of expansion, but on the whole, when armament factories and other specia- 
lized industries connected with the war have been excluded, there has been none. A number 
of projects would have been started if there had been no war. I can speak from personal 
experience of projects that have been abandoned because of the impossibility of obtaining 
bricks, steel, and machinery. Those who talk about industrial and economic progress in 
India during the war do not know the true position. ' Again he said: I must prick this 
bubble. It is nonsense to say that India has materially advanced and gained by the war. For 
one reason or another there has been no important progress or development in India. Rather 
there has been considerable retardation. In fact what has happened is this. As a result of the 
war and India's contribution towards it, we have millions dead in Bengal owing to famine. 
We also have had famine of cloth. Thus, it is clear, that economic progress has been con- 
spicuous by its absence. ' 

•503 



within five war years, in spite of all the obstructions placed in 
her way. These assets are in the form of sterling securities which 
are not available to her and which, it is stated, will be blocked 
in the future. These sterling securities represent the expendi- 
ture incurred by the Government of India on behalf of the British 
Government as well as the U.S.A. They also represent the hunger, 
famine, epidemics, emasculation, weakened resistance, stunted 
growth, and death by starvation and disease of vast numbers of 
human beings in India. 

Because of the accumulation of capital assets, India has paid 
off her big debt to England and has become a creditor country. 
Owing to gross negligence and mismanagement, tremendous 
suffering has been caused to the people of India, but the fact 
remains that India can accumulate these huge sums in a short 
period of time. The actual expenditure on the war incurred by 
India in five years greatly exceeds the total British investments 
in India during more than 100 years. This fact brings into pro- 
per perspective how little the progress made in India has been 
during the past century of British administration — railways, 
irrigation works and the like of which we hear so much. It also 
demonstrates the enormous capacity of India to advance with 
rapidity on all fronts. If this striking effort can be made under 
discouraging conditions and under a foreign government which 
disapproves of industrial growth in India, it is obvious tlu-t 
planned development under a free national government would 
completely change the face of India within a few years. 

There is a curious habit of the British of appraising their 
economic and social achievement in present-day India by criteria 
derived from social achievement here or elsewhere in the distant 
past. They compare, with evident satisfaction to themselves, what 
they have done in India during their regime with changes made 
some hundreds of years ago. The fact that the industrial revolu- 
tion, and more especially the vast technological improvements 
of the past fifty years or so, have entirely changed the pace and 
tempo of life somehow escapes them when they think of India. 
They forget also that India was not a barren, sterile, and bar- 
barous country when they came here, but a highly evolved and 
cultured nation which had temporarily become static and back- 
ward in technical achievements. 

What values and standards are we to apply in making such 
comparisons? The Japanese made Manchukuo within eight 
years highly industrialized for their own purposes; more coal 
was being produced there than in India after many generations 
of British effort. Their material record in Korea compares well 
with other colonial empires.* And yet behind these records there 

*Hallett Abend, who was the New York Times correspondent in the Far East for manyyears, 
says in his book 'Pacific Charter' (1943): 'In fairness to the Japanese it must be conceded 

•504 



is slavery, cruelty, humiliation, exploitation, and the attempt 
to destroy the soul of a people. The nazis and the Japanese have 
created new records in the inhuman suppression of subject 
peoples and races. We are often reminded of this and told that 
the British have not treated us quite so badly. Is that to be the 
new measure and standard of comparison and judgement? 

There is a great deal of pessimism in India to-day and a 
sense of frustration, and both can be understood, for events have 
dealt harshly with our people and the future is not promising. 
But there is also below the surface a stirring and a pushing, 
signs of a new life and vitality, and unknown forces are at work. 
Leaders function at the top but they are driven in particular 
directions by the anonymous and unthinking will of an awaken- 
ing people, who seem to be outgrowing their past. 

India's Growth Arrested 

A nation, like an individual, has many personalities, many 
approaches to life. If there is a sufficiently strong organic bond 
between these different personalities, it is well; otherwise those 
personalities split up and lead to disintegration and trouble. 
Normally, there is a continuous process of adjustment going on 
and some kind of an equilibrium is established. If normal develop- 
ment is arrested, or sometimes if there is some rapid change which 
is not easily assimilated, then conflict arises between those different 
personalities. In the mind and spirit of India, below the surface 
of our superficial conflicts and divisions, there has been this funda- 
mental conflict due to a long period of arrested growth. A society, 
if it is to be both stable and progressive, must have a certain more 
or less fixed foundation of principles as well as a dynamic outlook. 
Both appear to be necessary. Without the dynamic outlook there 
is stagntaion and decay, without some fixed basis of principle 
there is likely to be disintegration and destruction. 

In India from the earliest days there was a search for those 
basic principles, for the unchanging, the universal, the absolute. 
Yet the dynamic outlook was also present and an appreciation 
of life and the changing world. On these two foundations a 

that in a material sense they have done a magnificent job in Korea. When they took it over 
the country was filthy, unhealthy, and woefully poverty-striken. The mountains had been 
denuded of their forests, the valleys were subject to recurrent floods, decent roads were non- 
existent, illiteracy was prevalent, and typhoid, smallpox, cholera, dysentery, and the plague 
were epidemic annually. To-day the mountai.is are reafforested; railway, telephone, and 
telegraph systems are excellent; the public health service is highly efficient, good highways 
abound; flood-control and irrigation works have vastly increased the food production, and 
fine harbours have been developed and well managed. The country has become so prosperous 
and healthy that the 1905 population of 11,000,000 has risen to 24,000,000 and the 
average scale of living to-day is almost immeasurably higher than it was at the turn of the 
century.' But Mr. Abend points out that all this material improvement has not been insti- 
tuted for the benefit of the Korean people but so that greater profits might go to the Japanese. 

•505 



stable and progressive society was built up, though the stress 
was always more on stability and security and the survival of 
the race. In later years the dynamic aspect began to fade away, 
and in the name of eternal principles the social structure was 
made rigid and unchanging. It was, as a matter of fact, not 
wholly rigid and it did change gradually and continuously. But 
the ideology behind it and the general framework continued 
unchanged. The group idea as represented by more or less 
autonomous castes, the joint family and the communal self- 
governing life of the village were the main pillars of this system, 
and all these survived for so long because, in spite of their failings, 
they fulfilled some essential needs of human nature and society. 
They gave security, stability to each group and a sense of group 
freedom. Caste survived because it continued to represent the 
general power-relationships of society, and class privileges were 
maintained, not only because of the prevailing ideology, but also 
because they were supported by vigour, intelligence, and ability, 
as well as a capacity for self-sacrifice. That ideology was not 
based on a conflict of rights but on the individual's obligations to 
others and a satisfactory performance of his duties, on co-operation 
within the group and between different groups, and essentially on 
the idea of promoting peace rather than war. While the social 
system was rigid, no limit was placed on the freedom of the mind. 

Indian civilization achieved much that it was aiming at, but, 
in that very achievement, life began to fade away, for it is too 
dynamic to exist for long in a rigid, unchanging environment. 
Even those basic principles, which are said to be unchanging, 
lose their freshness and reality when they are taken for granted 
and the search for them ceases. Ideas of truth, beauty, and 
freedom decay, and we become prisoners following a deadening 
routine. 

The very thing India lacked, the modern West possessed and 
possessed to excess. It had the dynamic outlook. It was engrossed 
in the changing world, caring little for ultimate principles, the 
unchanging, the universal. It paid little attention to duties and 
obligations and emphasized rights. It was active, aggressive, 
acquisitive, seeking power and domination, living in the present 
and ignoring the future consequences of its actions. Because it 
was dynamic, it was progressive and full of life, but that life 
was a fevered one and the temperature kept on rising progressively. 

If Indian civilization went to seed because it became static, 
self-absorbed and inclined to narcissism, the civilization of the 
modern West, with all its great and manifold achievements, 
does not appear to have been a conspicuous success or to have 
thus far solved the basic problems of life. Conflict is inherent 
in it and periodically it indulges in self-destruction on a colossal 
scale. It seems to lack something to give it stability, some basic 

•506 



principles to give meaning to life though what these are I can- 
not say. Yet because it is dynamic and full of life and curiosity, 
there is hope for it. 

India, as well as China, must learn from the West, for the 
modern West has much to teach, and the spirit of the age is re- 
presented by the West. But the West is also obviously in need 
of learning much and its advances in technology will bring it 
little comfort if it does not learn some of the deeper lessons 
of life, which have absorbed the minds of thinkers in all ages 
and in all countries. 

India has become static and yet it would be utterly wrong to 
imagine that she was unchanging. No change at all means death. 
Her very survival as a highly evolved nation shows that there 
was some process of continuous adaptation going on. When the 
British came to India, though technologically somewhat back- 
ward, she was still among the advanced commercial nations of 
the world. Technical changes would undoubtedly have come 
and changed India as they have changed some western countries. 
But her normal development was arrested by the British power. 
Industrial growth was checked and as a consequence social 
growth was also arrested. The normal power-relationships of 
society could not adjust themselves and find an equilibrium, as 
all power was concentrated in the alien authority, which based 
itself on force and encouraged groups and classes which had 
ceased to have any real significance. Indian life thus progressively 
became more artificial, for many of the individuals and groups 
who seemed to play an important role in it had no vital functions 
left and were there only because of the importance given to them 
by the alien power. They had long ago finished their role in 
history and would have been pushed aside by new forces if they 
had not been given foreign protection. They became straw- 
stuffed symbols of proteges of foreign authority, thereby cutting 
themselves still further away from the living currents of the 
nation. Normally, they would have been weeded out or diverted 
to some more appropriate function by revolution or democratic 
process. But so long as foreign authoritarian rule continued, no 
such development could take place. And so India was cluttered 
up with these emblems of the past and the real changes that 
were taking place were hidden behind an artificial fagade. No 
true social balances or power-relationships within society could 
develop or become evident, and unreal problems assumed an 
undue importance. 

Most of our problems to-day are due to this arrested growth 
and the prevention by British authority of normal adjustments 
taking place. The problem of the Indian princes is easily capable 
of solution if the external factor is removed. The minorities 
problem is utterly unlike any minority problem elsewhere; 

•507 



indeed it is not a minority problem at all. There are many aspects 
of it and no doubt we are to blame for it in the past and in the 
present. And yet, at the back of these and other problems is the 
desire of the British Government to preserve, as far as possible, 
the existing economy and political organization of the Indian 
people, and, for this purpose, to encourage and preserve the 
socially backward groups in their present condition. Political and 
economic progress has not only been directly prevented, but also 
made dependent on the agreement of reactionary groups and vested 
interests, and this may be purchased only by confirming them in 
their privileged positions or giving them a dominating voice in 
future arrangement, and thus putting formidable obstacles in the 
way of real change and progress. A new constitution, in order to 
have strength and effectiveness behind it, should not only represent 
the wishes ofthe vast majority of the people but should. also reflect 
the inter-relation of social forces and their power relationships at 
the time. The main difficulty in India has been that constitutional 
arrangements for the future suggested by the British, or even by 
many Indians, ingore present social forces, and much more so 
potential ones which have long been arrested and are now breaking 
out, and try to impose and make rigid an order based on a past and 
vanishing relationship which has no real relevance to-day. 

The fundamental reality in India is British military occupa- 
tion and the policy which it supports. That policy has been ex- 
pressed in many ways and has often been cloaked in dubious 
phrases, but latterly, under a soldier Viceroy, it has been ex- 
pressed with clarity. That military occupation is to continue so 
long as the British can help it. But there are certain limits to 
the application of force. It leads not only to the growth of oppos- 
ing forces but to many other consequences unthought of by those 
who rely upon it too much. 

We see the consequences of this enforced stunting of India's 
growth and this arresting of her progress. The most obvious 
fact is the sterility of British rule in India and the thwarting of 
Indian life by it. Alien rule is inevitably cut off from the creative 
energies of the people it dominates. When this alien rule has 
its own economic and cultural centre far from the subject coun- 
try and is further backed by racialism, this divorce is complete, 
and leads to spiritual and cultural starvation of the subject 
peoples. The only real scope that the nation's creative energy 
finds is in some kind of opposition to that rule, and yet that 
scope itself is limited and the outlook becomes narrow and one- 
sided. That opposition represents the conscious or unconscious 
effort of the living and growing forces to break through the 
shell that confines them and is thus a progressive and inevitable 
tendency. But it is too single-track and negative to have full 
touch with many aspects of reality in our lives. Complexes and 

•508 



prejudices and phobias grow and darken the mind, mental idols 
of the group and the community take shape, and slogans and 
set phrases take the place of inquiry into real problems. Within 
the farmework of a sterile alien rule no effective solutions are 
possible, and national problems, unable to find solution, be- 
come even more acute. We have arrived in India at a stage 
when no half measures can solve our problems, no advance on 
one sector is enough. There has to be a big jump and advance 
all along the line, or the alternative may be overwhelming 
catastrophe. 

As in the world as a whole, so in India, it is a race between 
the forces of peaceful progress and construction and those of 
disruption and disaster, with each succeeding disaster on a 
bigger scale than the previous one. We can view this prospect 
as optimists or as pessimists, according to our predilections and 
mental make-up. Those who have faith in a moral ordering of 
the universe and of the ultimate triumph of virtue can, fortu- 
nately for them, function as lookers on or as helpers, and cast 
the burden on God; others will have to carry that burden on 
their own weak shoulders, hoping for the best and preparing 
for the worst. 

Religion, Philosophy, and Science 

India must break with much of her past and not allow it to 
dominate the present. Our lives are encumbered with the dead 
wood of this past; all that is dead and has served its purpose 
has to go. But that does not mean a break with, or a forgetting 
of, the vital and life-giving in that past. We can never forget 
the ideals that have moved our race, the dreams of the Indian 
people through the ages, the wisdom of the ancients, the buoyant 
energy and love of life and nature of our forefathers, their spirit 
of curiosity and mental adventure, the daring of their thought, 
their splendid achievements in literature, art and culture, their 
love of truth and beauty and freedom, the basic values that they 
set up, their understanding of life's mysterious ways, their tolera- 
tion of other ways than theirs, their capacity to absorb other 
peoples and their cultural accomplishments, to synthesize them 
and develop a varied and mixed culture; nor can we forget the 
myriad experiences which have built up our ancient race and 
lie embedded in our sub-conscious minds. We will never forget 
them or cease to take pride in that noble heritage of ours. If 
India forgets them she will no longer remain India and much 
that has made her our joy and pride will cease to be. 

It is not this that we have to break with, but all the dust and 
dirt of ages that have covered her up and hidden her inner 
beauty and significance, the excrescences and abortions that 

•509 



have twisted and petrified her spirit, set it in rigid frames, and 
stunted her growth. We have to cut away these excrescences and 
remember afresh the core of that ancient wisdom and adapt it to 
our present circumstances. We have to get out of traditional 
ways of thought and living which, for all the good they may 
have done in a past age, and there was much good in them, 
have ceased to have significance to-day. We have to make our 
own all the achievements of the human race and join up with 
others in the exciting adventure of man, more exciting to-day 
perhaps than in earlier ages, realizing that this has ceased to be 
governed by national boundaries or old divisions and is com- 
mon to the race of man everywhere. We have to revive the 
passion for truth and beauty and freedom which gives meaning 
to life, and develop afresh that dynamic outlook and spirit of 
adventure which distinguished those of our race who, in ages 
past, built our house on these strong and enduring foundations. 
Old as we are, with memories stretching back to the early dawns 
of human history and endeavour, we have to grow young again, 
in tune with our present time, with the irrepressible spirit and 
joy of youth in the present and its faith in the future. 

Truth as ultimate reality, if such there is, must be eternal, 
imperishable, unchanging. But that infinite, eternal and un- 
changing truth cannot be apprehended in its fullness by the 
finite mind of man which can only grasp, at most, some small 
aspect of it limited by time and space, and by the state of deve- 
lopment of that mind and the prevailing ideology of the period. 
As the mind develops and enlarges its scope, as ideologies change 
and new symbols are used to express that truth, new aspects of 
it come to light, though the core of it may yet be the same. 
And so, truth has ever to be sought and renewed, reshaped, and 
developed, so that, as understood by man, it might keep in line 
with the growth of his thought and the development of human 
life. Only then does it become a living truth for humanity, 
supplying the essential need for which it craves, and offering 
guidance in the present and for the future. 

But if some one aspect of the truth has been petrified by dogma 
in a past age, it ceases to grow and develop and adapt itself to 
the changing needs ofhumanity; other aspects of it remain hidden 
and it fails to answer the urgent questions of a succeeding age. It 
is no longer dynamic but static, no longer a life-giving impulse 
but dead thought and ceremonial and a hindrance to the growth 
of the mind and of humanity. Indeed, it is probably not even 
understood to the extent it was understood in that past age when 
it grew up and was clothed in the language and symbols of that 
age. For its context is different in a later age, the mental climate 
has changed, new social habits and customs have grown up, 
and it is often difficult to understand the sense, much less the 

•510 



spirit, of that ancient writing. Moreover, as Aurobindo Ghose 
has pointed out, every truth, however true in itself, yet taken 
apart from others which at once limit and complete it, becomes 
a snare to bind the intellect and a misleading dogma; for in 
reality each is one thread of a complex weft and no thread must 
be taken apart from the weft. 

Religions have helped greatly in the development of human- 
ity. They have laid down values and standards and have pointed 
out principles for the guidance of human life. But with all the 
good they have done, they have also tried to imprison truth in 
set forms and dogmas, and encouraged ceremonials and prac- 
tices which soon lose all their original meaning and become 
mere routine. While impressing upon man the awe and mystery 
of the unknown that surrounds him on all sides, they have dis- 
couraged him from trying to understand not only the unknown 
but what might come in the way of social effort. Instead of en- 
couraging curiosity and thought, they have preached a philosophy 
of submission to nature, to established churches, to the prevail- 
ing Social order, and to everything that is. The belief in a 
supernatural agency which ordains everything has led to a cer- 
tain irresponsibility on the social plane, and emotion and senti- 
mentality have taken the place of reasoned thought and inquiry. 
Religion, though it has undoubtedly brought comfort to innumer- 
able human beings and stabilized society by its values, has checked 
the tendency to change and progress inherent in human society. 

Philosophy has avoided many of these pitfalls and encouraged 
thought and inquiry. But it has usually lived in its ivory tower 
cut off from life and its day-to-day problems, concentrating on 
ultimate purposes and failing to link them with the life of man. 
Logic and reason were its guides and they took it far in many 
directions, but that logic was too much the product of the mind 
and unconcerned with fact. 

Science ignored the ultimate purposes and looked at fact alone. 
It made the world jump forward with a leap, built up a glitter- 
ing civilization, opened up innumerable avenues for the growth 
of knowledge, and added to the power of man to such an extent 
that for the first time it was possible to conceive that man could 
triumph over and shape his physical environment. Man became 
almost a geological force, changing the face of the planet earth 
chemically, physically, and in many other ways. Yet when this 
sorry scheme of things entirely seemed to be in his grasp, to mould 
it nearer to the heart's desire, there was some essential lack and 
some vital element was missing. There was no knowledge of ulti- 
mate purposes and not even an understanding of the immediate 
purpose, for science had told us nothing about any purpose in life. 
Nor did man, so powerful in his control of nature, have the 

•511 



power to control himself, and the monster he had created ran 
amok. Perhaps new developments in biology, psychology, and 
similar sciences, and the interpretation of biology and physics, 
may help man to understand and control himself more than he 
has done in the past. Or, before any such advances influence 
human life sufficiently, man may destroy the civilization he has 
built and have to start anew. 

There is no visible limit to the advance of science, if it is given 
the chance to advance. Yet it may be that the scientific method of 
observation is not always applicable to all the varieties of human 
experience and cannot cross the uncharted ocean that surrounds us. 
With the help of philosophy it may go a little further and venture 
even on these high seas. And when both science and philosophy 
fail us, we shall have to rely on such other powers of apprehension 
as we may possess. For there appears to be a definite stopping place 
beyond which reason, as the mind is at present constituted, cannot 
go. 'La derniere demarche de la raison,' says Pascal, 'c'est de 
connaitre qu'il y a une infinite de choses qui la surpassent. Elle 
est bien faible si elle ne va j usque-la.' 

Realizing these limitations of reason and scientific method, we 
have still to hold on to them with all our strength, for without 
that firm basis and background we can have no grip on any kind 
of truth or reality. It is better to understand a part of truth and 
apply it to our lives, than to understand nothing at all and flounder 
helplessly in a vain attempt to pierce the mystery of existence. 
The applications of science are inevitable and unavoidable for 
all countries and peoples to-day. But something more than its 
application is necessary. It is the scientific approach, the adventur- 
ous and yet critical temper of science, the search for truth and new 
knowledge, the refusal to accept anything without testing and 
trial, the capacity to change previous conclusions in the face of new 
evidence, the reliance on observed fact and not on pre-conceived 
theory, the hard discipline of the mind — all this is necessary, not 
merely for the application of science but for life itself and the 
solution of its many problems. Too many scientists to-day, who 
swear by science, forget all about it outside their particular spheres. 
The scientific approach and temper are, or should be, a way of 
life, a process of thinking, a method of acting and associating with 
our fellowmen. That is a large order and undoubtedly very few of 
us, if any at all, can function in this way with even partial success. 
But this criticism applies in equal or even greater measure to all 
the injunctions which philosophy and religion have laid upon us. 
The scientific temper points out the way along which man should 
travel. It is the temper of a free man. We live in a scientific age, 
so we are told, but there is little evidence of this temper in the 
people anywhere or even in their leaders. 

Science deals with the domain of positive knowledge but the 

•512 



temper which it should produce goes beyond that domain. The 
ultimate purposes of man may be said to be to gain knowledge, 
to realize truth, to appreciate goodness and beauty. The scienti- 
fic method of objective inquiry is not applicable to all these, and 
much that is vital in life seems to lie beyond its scope — the sensi- 
tiveness to art and poetry, the emotion that beauty produces, the 
inner recognition of goodness. The botanist and zoologist may 
never experience the charm and beauty of nature; the sociologist 
may be wholly lacking in love for humanity. But even when we 
go to the regions beyond the reach of the scientific method and 
visit the mountain tops where philosophy dwells and high emo- 
tions fill us, or gaze at the immensity beyond, that approach and 
temper are still necessary. 

Very different is the method of religion. Concerned as it is 
principally with the regions beyond the reach of objective in- 
quiry, it relies on emotion and intuition. And then it applies 
this method to everything in life, even to those things which are 
capable of intellectual inquiry and observation: Organized reli- 
gion, allying itself to theology and often more concerned with 
its vested interests than with things of the spirit, encourages a 
temper which is the very opposite to that of science. It produces 
narrowness and intolerance, credulity and superstition, emotio- 
nalism and irrationalism. It tends to close and limit the mind of 
man, and to produce a temper of a dependent, unfree person. 

Even if God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent Him, 
so Voltaire said — 'si Dieu n'existait pas, il faudrait l'inventer.' 
Perhaps that is true, and indeed the mind of man has always been 
trying to fashion some such mental image or conception which 
grew with the mind's growth. But there is something also in the 
reverse proposition: even if God exists, it may be desirable not 
to look up to Him or to rely upon Him. Too much dependence on 
supernatural factors may lead, and has often led, to a loss of self- 
reliance in man and to a blunting of his capacity and creative 
ability. And yet some faith seems necessary in things of the spirit 
which are beyond the scope of our physical world, some reliance 
on moral, spiritual, and idealistic conceptions, or else we have 
no anchorage, no objectives or purpose in life. Whether we believe 
in God or not, it is impossible not to believe in something, whe- 
ther we call it a creative life-giving force or vital energy inherent 
in matter which gives it its capacity for self-movement and change 
and growth, or by some other name, something that is as real, 
though elusive, as life is real when contrasted with death. Whe- 
ther we are conscious of it or not most of us worship at the in- 
visible altar of some unknown god and offer sacrifices to it — 
some ideal, personal, national or international; some distant 
objective that draws us on, though reason itself may find little 
substance in it; some vague conception of a perfect man and a 

•513 



better world. Perfection may be impossible of attainment, but the 
demon in us, some vital force, urges us on and we tread that path 
from generation to generation. 

As knowledge advances, the domain of religion, in the narrow 
sense of the word, shrinks. The more we understand life and 
nature, the less we look for supernatural causes. Whatever we 
can understand and control ceases to be a mystery. The processes 
of agriculture, the food we eat, the clothes we wear, our social 
relations, were all at one time under the dominion of religion 
and its high priests. Gradually they have passed out of its control 
and become subjects for scientific study. Yet much of this is still 
powerfully affected by religious beliefs and the superstitions that 
accompany them. The final mysteries still remain far beyond the 
reach of the human mind and are likely to continue to remain so. 
But so many of life's mysteries are capable of and await solution, 
that an obsession with the final mystery seems hardly necessary 
or justified. Life still offers not only the loveliness of the world 
but also the exciting adventure of fresh and never ceasing dis- 
coveries, of new panoramas opening out and new ways of living, 
adding to its fullness and ever making it richer and more complete. 

It is therefore with the temper and approach of science, allied 
to philosophy, and with reverence for all that lies beyond, that 
we must face life. Thus we may develop an integral vision oflife 
which embraces in its wide scope the past and the present, with 
all their hights and depths, and look with serenity towards the 
future. The depths are there and cannot be ignored, and always 
by the side of the loveliness that surrounds us is the misery of the 
world. Man's journey through life is an odd mixture of joy and 
sorrow; thus only can he learn and advance. The travail of the 
soul is a tragic and lonely business. External events and their conse- 
quences affect us powerfully, and yet the greatest shocks come to 
our minds through inner fears and conflicts. While we advance 
on the external plane, as we must if we are to survive, we have 
also to win peace with ourselves and between ourselves and our 
environment, a peace which brings satisfaction not only to our 
physical and material needs but also to those inner imaginative 
urges and adventurous spirits that have distinguished man ever 
since he started on his troubled journey in the realms of thought 
and action. Whether that journey has any ultimate purpose or not 
we do not know, but it has its compensations, and it points to many 
a nearer objective which appears attainable and which may again 
become the starting point for a fresh advance. 

Science has dominated the western world and everyone there 
pays tribute to it, and yet the west is still far from having deve- 
loped the real temper of science. It has still to bring the spirit and 
the flesh into creative harmony. In India in many obvious ways 
we have a greater distance to travel. And yet there may be fewer 

•514 



major obstructions on our way, for the essential basis of Indian 
thought for ages past, though not its later manifestations, fits in 
with the scientific temper and approach, as well as with inter- 
nationalism. It is based on a fearless search for truth, on the soli- 
darity of man, even on the divinity of everything living, and on 
the free and co-operative development of the individual and the 
species, ever to greater freedom and higher stages of human growth. 

The Importance of the National Idea. Changes 
Necessary in India 

A blind reverence for the past is bad and so also is a contempt 
for it, for no future can be founded on either of these. The present 
and the future inevitably grow out of the past and bear its stamp, 
and to forget this is to build without foundations and to cut off the 
roots of national growth. It is to ignore one of the most powerful 
forces that influence people. Nationalism is essentially a group 
memory of past achievements, traditions, and experiences, and 
nationalism is stronger to-day than it has ever been. Many people 
thought that nationalism had had its day and must inevitably 
give place to the ever-growing international tendencies of the 
modern world. Socialism with its proletarian background derided 
national culture as something tied up with a decaying middle 
class. Capitalism itself became progressively international with 
its cartels and combines and overflowed national boundaries. 
Trade and commerce, easy communications and rapid transport, 
the radio and cinema, all helped to create an international atmos- 
phere and to produce the delusion that nationalism was doomed. 
Yet whenever a crisis has arisen nationalism has emerged again 
and dominated the scene, and people have sought comfort and 
strength in their old traditions. One of the remarkable develop- 
ments of the present age has been the rediscovery of the past and 
of the nation. This going back to national traditions has been 
most marked in the ranks of labour and the proletarian elements, 
who were supposed to be the foremost champions of international 
action. War or similar crisis dissolves their internationalism and 
they become subject to nationalist hates and fears even more than 
other groups. The most striking example of this is the recent deve- 
lopment of the Soviet Union. Without giving up in any way its 
essential social and economic structure, it has become more natio- 
nalist-minded and the appeal of the fatherland is now much greater 
than the appeal of the international proletariat. Famous figures 
in national history have again been revived and have become 
heroes of the Soviet people. The inspiring record of the Soviet 
people in this war, the strength and unity they have shown, are 
no doubt due to a social and economic structure which has resulted 
in social advances on a wide front, on planned production and 

515 



consumption, on the development of science and its functions, 
and on the release of a vast quantity of new talent and capacity 
for leadership, as also on brilliant leadership. But it may also be 
partly due to a revival of national memories and traditions and 
a new awareness of the past, of which the present was felt to be a 
continuation. It would be wrong to imagine that this nationalist 
outlook of Russia is just a reversion to old-style nationalism. It 
is certainly not that. The tremendous experiences of the revolution 
and all that followed it cannot be forgotten, and the changes 
that resulted from it in social structure and mental adjustment 
must remain. That social structure leads inevitably to a certain 
international outlook. Nevertheless nationalism has reappeared 
in such a way as to fit in with the new environment and add to 
the strength of the people. 

It is instructive to compare the development of the Soviet state 
with the varying fortunes of the Communist Parties in other 
countries. There was the first flush of enthusiasm among many 
people in all countries, and especially in proletarian ranks, soon 
after the Soviet Revolution. Out of this grew communist groups 
and parties. Then conflicts arose between these groups and natio- 
nal labour parties. During the Soviet five-year plans there was 
another wave of interest and enthusiasm, and this probably 
affected middle-class intellectuals even more than Labour. Again 
there was a reaction at the time of the purges in the Soviet Union. 
In some countries Communist Praties were suppressed, in others 
they made progress. But almost everywhere they came into con- 
flict with organized national Labour. Partly this was due to the 
conservatism of Labour, but more so to a feeling that the Com- 
munist Party represented a foreign group and that they took their 
policies from Russia. The inherent nationalism of Labour came 
in the way of its accepting the co-operation of the Communist 
Party even when many were favourably inclined towards com- 
munism. The many changes in Soviet policy, which could be 
understood in relation to Russia, became totally incomprehensible 
as policies favoured by Communist Parties elsewhere. They could 
only be understood on the basis that what may be good for Russia 
must necessarily be good for the rest of the world. These Com- 
munist Parties, though they consisted of some able and very earnest 
men and women, lost contact with the nationalist sentiments of 
the people and weakened accordingly. While the Soviet Union 
was forging new links with national tradition, the Communist 
Parties of other countries were drifting further away from it. 

I cannot speak with much knowledge of what happened else- 
where, but I know that in India the Communist Party is com- 
pletely divorced from, and is ignorant of, the national traditions 
that fill the minds of the people. It believes that communism 
necessarily implies a contempt for the past. So far as it is con- 

516 



cerned, the history of the world began in November, 1917, and 
everything that preceded this was preparatory and leading up 
to it. Normally speaking, in a country like India with large num- 
bers of people on the verge of starvation and the economic structure 
cracking up, communism should have a wide appeal. In a sense 
there is that vague appeal, but the Communist Party cannot 
take advantage of it because it has cut itself off from the springs 
of national sentiment and speaks in a language which finds no 
echo in the hearts of the people. It remains an energetic, but small 
group, with no real roots. 

It is not only the Communist Party in India that has failed 
in this respect. There are others who talk glibly of modernism 
and modern spirit and the essence of western culture, and are 
at the same time ignorant of their own culture. Unlike the com- 
munists, they have no ideal that moves them and no driving force 
that carries them forward. They take the external forms and outer 
trappings of the west (and often some of the less desirable features), 
and imagine that they are in the vanguard of an advancing civi- 
lization. Naive and shallow and yet full of their own conceits, they 
live, chiefly in a few large cities, an artificial life which has no 
living contacts with the culture of the east or of the west. 

National progress can, therefore, neither lie in a repetition of 
the past nor in its denial. New patterns must inevitably be adopted 
but they must be integrated with the old. Sometimes the new, though 
very different, appears in terms of pre-existing patterns, and thus 
creates a feeling of a continuous development from the past, a link 
in the long chain of the history of the race. Indian history is a 
striking record of changes introduced in this way, a continuous 
adaptation of old ideas to a changing environment, of old patterns 
to new. Because of this there is no sense of cultural break in it and 
there is that continuity, in spite of repeated change, from the far 
distant days of Mohenjodaro to our own age. There was a reverence 
for the past and for traditional forms, but there was also a freedom 
and flexibility of the mind and a tolerance of the spirit. So while 
forms often remained, the inner content continued to change. 
In no other way could that society have survived for thousands of 
years. Only a living and growing mind could overcome the rigidity 
of traditional forms, only those forms could give it continuity and 
stability. 

Yet this balance may become precarious and one aspect may 
overshadow, and to some extent, suppress A this other. In India 
there was an extraordinary freedom of the mind allied to certain 
rigid social forms. These forms ultimately influenced the freedom 
of the mind and made it in practice, if not in theory, more rigid 
and limited. In western Europe there was no such freedom of the 
mind and there was also much less rigidity in social forms. Europe 
had a long struggle for the freedom of the mind and, as a 

517 



consequence, social forms also changed. 

In China the flexibility of the mind was even greater than in 
India and for all her love of, and attachment to, tradition, that 
mind never lost its flexibility and essential tolerance. Tradition 
sometimes delayed changes but that mind was not afraid of 
change, though it retained the old patterns. Even more than in 
India, Chinese society built up a balance and an equilibrium 
which survived through many changes for thousands of years. 
Perhaps one of the great advantages that China has had over 
other countries is her entire freedom from dogma, from the nar- 
row and limited religious outlook, and her reliance on reason and 
common sense. No other country has based its culture less on 
religion and more on morality and ethics and a deep under- 
standing of the variety of human life. 

In India, because of the recognized freedom of the mind, 
howsoever limited in practice, new ideas are not shut out. They 
are considered and can be accepted far more than in countries 
which have a more rigid and dogmatic outlook on life. The 
essential ideals of Indian culture are broad-based and can be 
adapted to almost any environment. The bitter conflict between 
science and religion which shook up Europe in the nineteenth 
century would have no reality in India, nor would change based 
on the applications of science bring any conflict with those ideals. 
Undoubtedly such changes would stir up, as they are stirring up, 
the mind of India, but instead of combating them or rejecting 
them it would rationalize them from its own ideological point of 
view and fit them into its mental framework. It is probable that 
in this process many vital changes may be introduced in the old 
outlook, but they will not be super-imposed from outside and 
will seem rather to grow naturally from the cultural background 
of the people. This is more difficult to-day than it might have 
been, because of the long period of arrested growth and the urgent 
necessity for big and qualitative changes. 

Conflict, however, there will be, with much of the superstruc- 
ture that has grown up round those basic ideals and which exist 
and stifles us to-day. That superstructure will inevitably have 
to go, because much of it is bad in itself and is contrary to the 
spirit of the age. Those who seek to retain it do an ill service to 
the basic ideals of Indian culture, for they mix up the good and 
the bad and thus endanger the former. It is no easy matter to 
separate the two or draw a hard and fast line between them, and 
here opinions will differ widely. But it is not necessary to draw 
any such theoretical and logical line; the logic of changing life 
and the march of events will gradually draw that line for us. Every 
kind of development — technological or philosophical — neces- 
sitates contact with life itself, with social needs, with the living 

518 



movements of the world. Lack of this contact leads to stagnation 
and loss of vitality and creativeness. But if we maintain these 
contacts and are receptive to them, we shall adapt ourselves to the 
curve of life without losing the essential characteristic which we 
have valued. 

Our approach to knowledge in the past was a synthetic one, 
but limited to India. That limitation continued and the syn- 
thetic approach gave place gradually to a more analytical one. 
We have now to lay greater stress on the synthetic aspect and make 
the whole world our field of study. This emphasis on synthesis is 
indeed necessary for every nation and individual if they are to grow 
out of the narrow grooves of thought and action in which most 
people have lived for so long. The development of science and its 
applications have made this possible for us, and yet the very excess 
of new knowledge has added to its difficulty. Specialization has 
led to a narrowing of individual life in a particular groove, and 
man's labour in industry is often confined to some infinitesimal part 
of the whole product. Specialization in knowledge and work will 
have to continue, but it seems more essential than ever that a 
synthetic view of human life and man's adventure through the 
ages should be encouraged. This view will have to take into 
consideration the past and the present, and include in its scope 
all countries and peoples. In this way perhaps we might develop, 
in addition to our own national backgrounds and cultures, an 
appreciation of others and a capacity to understand and co-operate 
with the peoples of other countries. Thus also we might succeed 
to some extent in building up integrated personalities instead of 
the lop-sided* individuals of to-day. We might become, in Plato's 
words, 'spectators of all time and all being,' drawing sustenance 
from the rich treasures that humanity has accumulated, adding 
to them, and applying them in building for the future. 

It is a curious and significant act that, in spite of all modern 
scientific progress and talk of internationalism, racialism and 
other separating factors are at least as much in evidence to-day, 
if not more so, than at any previous time in history. There is 
something lacking in all this progress, which can neither pro- 
duce harmony between nations nor within the spirit of man. 
Perhaps more synthesis and a little humility towards the wisdom 
of the past, which, after all, is the accumulated experience of 
the human race, would help us to gain a new perspective and 
greater harmony. That is especially needed by those peoples who 
live a fevered life in the present only and have almost forgotten 
the past. But for countries like India a different emphasis is 
necessary, for we have too much of the past about us and have 
ignored the present. We have to get rid of that narrowing religious 
outlook, that obsession with the supernatural and metaphysical 
speculations, that loosening of the mind's discipline in religious 

519 



ceremonial and mystical emotionalism, which come in the way 
of our understanding ourselves and the world. We have to come 
to grips with the present, this life, this world, this nature which 
surrounds us in its infinite variety. Some Hindus talk of going 
back to the Vedas; some Moslems dream of an Islamic theocracy. 
Idle fancies, for there is no going back to the past; there is no 
turning back even if this was thought desirable. There is only 
one-way traffic in Time. 

India must therefore lessen her religiosity and turn to science. 
She must get rid of the exclusiveness in thought and social habit 
which has become life a prison to her, stunting her spirit and 
preventing growth. The idea of ceremonial purity has erected 
barriers against social intercourse and narrowed the sphere of 
social action. The day-to-day religion of the orthodox Hindu 
is more concerned with what to eat and what not to eat, who to 
eat with and from whom to keep away, than with spiritual values. 
The rules and regulations of the kitchen dominate his social life. 
The Moslem is fortunately free from these inhibitions, but he has 
his own narrow codes and ceremonials, a routine which he 
rigorously follows, forgetting the lesson of brotherhood which 
his religion taught him. His view of life is, perhaps, even more 
limited and sterile than the Hindu view, though the average Hindu 
to-day is a poor representative of the latter view, for he has lost 
that traditional freedom of thought and the background that 
enriches life in many ways. 

Caste is the symbol and embodiment of this exclusiveness 
among the Hindus. It is sometimes said that the basic idea of 
caste might remain, but its subsequent harmful development 
and ramifications should go; that it should not depend on birth 
but on merit. This approach is irrelevant and merely confuses the 
issue. In a historical context a study of the growth of caste has 
some value, but we cannot obviously go back to the period when 
caste began; in the social organization of to-day it has no place 
left. If merit is the only criterion and opportunity is thrown open 
to everybody, then caste loses all its present-day distinguishing 
features and, in fact, ends. Caste has in the past not only led to the 
suppression of certain groups, but to a separation of theoretical 
and scholastic learning from craftsmanship, and a divorce of 
philosophy from actual life and its problems. It was an aristocratic 
approach based on traditionalism. This outlook has to change 
completely, for it is wholly opposed to modern conditions and the 
democratic ideal. The functional organization of social groups 
in India may continue, but even that will undergo a vast change 
as the nature of modern industry creates new functions and puts 
an end to many old ones. The tendency to-day everywhere is 
towards a functional organization of society, and the concept of 

520 



abstract rights is giving place to that of functions. This is in har- 
mony with the old Indian ideal. 

The spirit of the age is in favour of equality, though practice 
denies it almost everywhere. We have got rid of slavery in the 
narrow sense of the word, that a man can be the property of ano- 
ther. But a new slavery, in some ways worse than the old, has 
taken its place all over the world. In the name of individual free- 
dom, political and economic systems exploit human beings and 
treat them as commodities. And again, though an individual 
cannot be the property of another, a country and a nation can 
still be the property of another nation, and thus group slavery is 
tolerated. Racialism also is a distinguishing feature of our times, 
and we have not only master nations but also master races. 

Yet the spirit of the age will triumph. In India, at any rate, 
we must aim at equality. That does not and cannot mean that 
everybody is physically or intellectually or spiritually equal or 
can be made so. But it does mean equal opportunities for all and 
no political, economic, or social barrier in the way of any indi- 
vidual or group. It means a faith in humanity and a belief that 
there is no race or group that cannot advance and make good in 
its own way, given the chance to do so. It means a realization of 
the fact that the backwardness or degradation of any group is not 
due to inherent failings in it, but principally to lack of opportu- 
nities and long suppression by other groups. It should mean an 
understanding of the modern world wherein real progress and 
advance, whether national or international, have become very 
much a joint affair and a backward group pulls back others. There- 
fore, not only must equal opportunities be given to all, but special 
opportunities for educational, economic and cultural growth 
must be given to backward groups so as to enable them to catch 
up to those who are ahead of them. Any such attempt to open the 
doors of opportunity to all in India will release enormous energy 
and ability and transform the country with amazing speed. 

If the spirit of the age demands equality, it must necessarily 
also demand an economic system which fits in with it and en- 
courages it. The present colonial system in India is the very anti- 
thesis of it. Absolutism is not only based on inequality but must 
perpetuate it in every sphere of life. It suppresses the creative and 
regenerative forces of a nation, bottles up talent and capacity, 
and discourages the spirit of responsibility. Those who-have to 
suffer under it, lose their sense of dignity and self-reliance. The 
problems of India, complicated as they seem, are essentially due 
to an attempt to advance while preserving the political and eco- 
nomic structure more or less intact. Political advance is made 
subject to the preservation of this structure and existing vested 
interests. The two are incompatible. 

521 



Political change there must be, but economic change is equally 
necessary. That change will have to be in the direction of a demo- 
cratically planned collectivism. 'The choice,' says R. H. Tawney, 
'is not between competition and monopoly, but between mono- 
poly which is irresponsible and private and a monopoly which 
is responsible and public' Public monopolies are growing even 
in capitalist states and they will continue to grow. The conflict 
between the idea underlying them and private monopoly will 
continue till the latter is liquidated. A democratic collectivism 
need not mean an abolition of private property, but it will mean 
the public ownership of the basic and major industries. It will mean 
the co-operative or collective control of the land. In India especi- 
ally it will be necessary to have, in addition to the big industries, 
co-operatively controlled small and village industries. Such a system 
of democratic collectivism will need careful and continuous plan- 
ning and adaptation to the changing needs of the people. The 
aim should be the expansion of the productive capacity of the 
nation in every possible way, at the same time absorbing all the 
labour power of the nation in some activity or other and prevent- 
ing unemployment. As far as possible there should be freedom to 
choose one's occupation. An equalization of income will not result 
from all this, but there will be far more equitable sharing and a 
progressive tendency towards equalization. In any event, the vast 
differences that exist to-day will disappear completely, and class 
distinctions, which are essentially based on differences in income, 
will begin to fade out. 

Such a change would mean an upsetting of the present-day 
acquisitive society based primarily on the profit motive. The profit 
motive may still continue to some extent but it will not be the 
dominating urge, nor will it have the same scope as it has to-day. 
It would be absurd to say that the profit motive does not appeal 
to the average Indian, but it is nevertheless true that there is no 
such admiration for it in India as there is in the west. The pos- 
sessor of money may be envied but he is not particularly respected 
or admired. Respect and admiration still go to the man or woman 
who is considered good and wise, and especially to those who 
sacrifice themselves or what they possess for the public good. The 
Indian outlook, even of the masses, has never approved of the 
spirit of acquisitiveness. 

Collectivism involves communal undertakings and co-operative 
effort. This again is fully in harmony with old Indian social con- 
ceptions which were all based on the idea of the group. The decay 
of the group system under British rule, and especially ofthe self- 
governing village, has caused deep injury to the Indian masses, 
even more psychological than economic. Nothing positive came 
in its place, and they lost their spirit of independence, their 

522 



sense of responsibility, and their capacity to co-operate together 
for common purposes. The village, which used to be an organic 
and vital unit, became progressively a derelict area, just a collec- 
tion of mud huts and odd individuals. But still the village holds 
together by some invisible link and old memories revive. It should 
be easily possible to take advantage of these age-long traditions and 
to build up communal and co-operative concerns in the land and 
in small industry. The village can no longer be a self-contained 
economic unit (though it may often be intimately connected with 
a collective or co-operative farm), but it can very well be a govern- 
mental and electoral unit, each such unit functioning as a self- 
governing community within the larger political framework, and 
looking after the essential needs of the village. If it is treated to 
some extent as an electoral unit, this will simplify provincial and 
all-India elections considerably by reducing the number of direct 
electors. The village council, itself chosen by all the adult men 
and women of the village, could form these electors for the bigger 
elections. Indirect elections may have some disadvantages but, 
having regard to the background in India, I feel sure that the 
village should be treated as a unit. This will give a truer and more 
responsible representation. 

In addition to this territorial representation, there should also 
be direct representation of the collectives and co-operatives on 
the land and in industry. Thus the democratic organization of 
the state will consist of both functional and territorial repre- 
sentatives, and will be based on local autonomy. Some such 
arrangement will be completely in harmony with India's past 
as well as with her present requirements. There will be no sense 
of break (except with the conditions created by British rule) 
and the mass mind will accept it as a continuation of the past 
which it still remembers and cherishes. 

Such a development in India would be in tune with political 
and economic internationalism. It would breed no conflicts with 
other nations and would be a powerful factor for peace in Asia 
amd the world. It would help in the realization of that one 
world towards which we are inevitably being driven, even 
though our passions delude us and our minds fail to understand 
it. The Indian people, freed from the terrible sense of oppression 
and frustration, will grow in stature again and lose their narrow 
nationalism and exclusiveness. Proud of their Indian heritage, 
they will open their minds and hearts to other peoples and other 
nations, and become citizens of this wide and fascinating world, 
marching onwards with others in that ancient quest in which 
their forefathers were the pioneers. 



523 



India: Partition or Strong National State or 
Centre of Supra-National State? 

It is difficult to discover a just balance between one's hopes and 
fears or to prevent one's wishes colouring the thinking of on#'s 
mind. Our desires seek out supporting reasons and tend to 
ignore facts and arguments that do not fit in with them. I try 
to reach that balance so that I may be able to judge correctly 
and find out the true basis for action, and yet I know how far 
I am from success and how I cannot get rid of the multitude 
of thoughts and feelings which have gone to build me up and 
to fence me in with their invisible bars. So also others may err 
in different directions. An Indian's and an Englishman's view 
of India and her place in the world will inevitably diverge and 
differ, conditional as each is on a different individual and 
national past. The individual and the national group fashion 
their own destiny by their actions; these past actions lead to the 
present and what they do to-day forms the basis of their to- 
morrows. Karma, they have called this in India, the law of cause 
and effect, the destiny which our past activities create for us. 
It is not an invariable destiny and many other factors go to 
influence it, and the individual's will is itself supposed to have 
some play. If this freedom to vary the results of past action were 
not present, then indeed we would all be mere robots in the iron 
grip of an unavoidable fate. Yet that past Karma is a powerful 
factor in shaping the individual and the nation, and nationalism 
itself is a shadow of it with all its good and bad memories of 
the past. 

Perhaps, this past inheritance influences the national group 
even more than the individual, for large numbers of human 
beirgs are driven more by unconscious and impersonal urges 
than the individual, and it is more difficult to divert them from 
their course. Moral considerations may influence an individual 
but their effect on a group is far less, and the larger the group 
the less is their effect on it. And it is easier, especially in the 
modern world, to influence the group by insidious propaganda. 
And yet sometimes, though rarely, the group itself rises to a 
height of moral behaviour, forcing the individual to forget his 
narrow and selfish ways. More often the group falls far below 
the individual standard. 

War produces both these reactions, but the dominant ten- 
dency is a release from moral responsibility and the collapse of 
the standards that civilization has so laboriously built up. Suc- 
cessful war and aggression lead to a justification and continuance 
of this policy, to imperialist domination and ideas of a master 
race. Defeat results in frustration and the nursing of feelings of 

524 



revenge. In either event, hatred and the habit of violence grow. 
There is ruthlessness and brutality, and a refusal even to try 
to understand the other's viewpoint. And thus the future is condi- 
tioned and more wars and conflicts follow with all their attendant 
consequences. 

The last 200 years of enforced relationship between India and 
England have built up this Karma, this destiny, for both of them, 
and it continues to govern their relations to each other. Entangled 
in its meshes, we have thus far struggled in vain to rid ourselves 
of this past inheritance and start afresh on a different basis. The 
last five years of war have unhappily added to that past evil Karma 
and made reconciliation and a normal relationship more difficult. 
That record of 200 years, like all else, is a mixture of good and 
evil. To the Englishman the good outweighs the evil, to the 
Indian the evil is so overwhelming that it darkens the whole period. 
But whatever the balance of good and evil there might be, it is 
obvious that any relationship that is enforced produces hatred and 
a bitter dislike of each other, and out of these feelings only evil 
consequences can flow. 

A revolutionary change, both political and economic, is not 
only needed in India but would appear to be inevitable. At the 
end of 1939, soon after the war started, and again in April, 
1942, there seemed to be a faint possibility of such a change 
taking place by consent between India and England. But those 
possibilities and opportunities passed because every basic change 
was feared. But the change will come. Has the stage of consent 
passed? In the presence of common perils the past loses some 
of its obsessions and the present is viewed in terms of the future. 
Now the past has returned and has been grievously added to. 
The receptive mood has changed and become hard and bitter. 
Some settlement will come sooner or later, after more conflict 
or without it, but it is far less likely to be real, sincere, and 
co-operative. More probably it will be an unwilling submission 
on both sides to overriding circumstances with continuing ill- 
will and distrust. No attempted solution which assumes even in 
principle the retention of India as part of the British empire 
has the slightest chance of acceptance of adoption. No solution 
which retains feudal relics in India can possibly last. 

Life is cheap in India and when this is so, life is empty and 
ugly and shoddy and all the horrid brood of poverty envelop 
it. There is an enervating atmosphere in India, due to many 
causes, imposed or inherent, but essentially the resultant of 
poverty and want. We have a terribly low standard of living 
and a very high rate of dying. Industrially developed and rich 
countries have a way of looking at undeveloped and poor coun- 
tries just as the rich man looks on the poor and unfortunate. 

525 



The rich man, out of his abundant resources and opportunities, 
develops high standards and fastidious tastes and blames the 
poor for their habits and lack of culture. Having denied them 
the opportunity to better themselves, he makes their poverty 
and its attendant evils justifications for a further denial. 

India is not a poor country. She is abundantly supplied with 
everything that makes a country rich, and yet her people are 
very poor. She has a noble heritage of culture-forms and her 
culture-potential is very great; but many new developments and 
the accessories of culture are lacking. This lack is due to many 
causes and largely to deliberate deprivation. When this is so, 
the vital energy of the people must overcome the obstacles in 
the way and fill the lack. That is happening in India to-day. 
Nothing can be clearer than the fact that India has the resources 
as well as the intelligence, skill, and capacity to advance rapidly. 
She has the accumulated cultural and spiritual experience of 
ages behind her. She can progress both in scientific theory and 
the applications of science and become a great industrial nation. 
Her scientific record is already noteworthy, in spite of the many 
limitations she suffers from and the lack of opportunity for her 
young men and women to do scientific work. That record is not 
great considering the size and possibilities of the country, but 
it is significant of what will happen when the energies of the 
nation are released ond opportunities are provided. 

Only two factors may come in the way: international deve- 
lopments and external pressure on India, and lack of a common 
objective within the country. Ultimately it is the latter alone 
that will count. If India is split up into two or more parts and 
can no longer function as a political and economic unit, her 
progress will be seriously affected. There will be the direct 
weakening effect, but much worse will be the inner psychologi- 
cal conflict between those who wish to reunite her and those 
who oppose this. New vested interests will be created which 
will resist change and progress, a new evil Karma will pursue 
us in the future. One wrong step leads to another; so it has 
been in the past and so it may be in the future. And yet wrong 
steps have to be taken sometimes lest some worse peril befall 
us; that is the great paradox of politics, and no man can say 
with surety whether present wrong-doing is better and safer in 
the end than the possibility of that imagined peril. Unity is 
always better than disunity, but an enforced unity is a sham 
and dangerous affair, full of explosive possibilities. Unity must 
be of the mind and heart, a sense of belonging together and of 
facing together those who attack it. I am convinced that there 
is that basic unity in India, but it has been overlaid and hidden 
to some extent by other forces. These latter may be temporary 

526 



and artificial and may pass off, but they count to-day and no 
man can ignore them. 

It is our fault, of course, and we must suffer for our failings. 
But I cannot excuse or forgive the British authorities for the 
deliberate part they have played in creating disruption in India. 
All other injuries will pass, but this will continue to plague 
us for a much longer period. Often I am reminded of Ireland 
and China when I think of India. Both differ from India and 
from each other in their past and present problems, and yet 
there are many similarities. Shall we have to tread that same 
path in the future? 

Jim Phelan in his 'Jail Journey' tells us of the effect of jail 
on human character, and everyone who has spent a long time 
in prison knows how true his statement is: The jail. ..acts as 
a magnifying glass on human character. Every tiny weakness is 
brought out, emphasized, wakened, until presently there is no 
more of the convict with the weakness but only a weakness 
wearing convict clothes.' Some such effect is produced on 
national character by foreign rule. That is not the only effect, 
for noble qualities also develop and strength is gradually built 
up through resistance. But foreign authority encourages the 
former and tries to suppress the latter. Just as we have convict 
warders in prison whose chief qualification is to spy on their 
fellow-convicts, so in a subject country there is no lack of puppets 
and sycophants who put on the livery of authority and act on 
its behalf. There are others also who do not consciously line up 
in this way but who are nevertheless influenced by the policies 
and intrigues of the dominant power. 

To accept the principle of a division of India, or rather the 
principle that there should be no enforced unity, may lead to a 
calm and dispassionate consideration of its consequences and 
thus to a realization that unity is in the interest of all. Yet 
obviously there is the danger that once this wrong step is taken, 
other like ones may follow in its train. The attempt to solve 
one problem in the wrong way may well create new problems. 
If India is to be divided into two or more parts, then the amal- 
gamation of the major Indian states into India becomes more 
difficult, for those states wili find an additional reason, which 
they might not otherwise have, for keeping aloof and holding 
on to their authoritarian regimes.* 

*// may be said that the Indian Stales as a whole, while anxious to maintain their internal 
autonomy, are equally desirous of having a strongfederal India of which they are members 
with equal rights. The proposal to divide India has been vigorously opposed by some of the 
leading ministers and statesmen of the states, and they have made it clear that, if such a division 
lakes place, the states might well prefer to keep to themselves and not tie up with either part of 
divided India. SirC. P. Ramaswami Aiyar, the Dewan of Travancore and one of the ablest 
and most experienced of states' ministers (though with a reputationfor autocratic methods and 

527 



Any division of India on a religious basis as between Hindus 
and Moslems, as envisaged by the Moslem League to-day, can- 
not separate the followers of these two principal religions of 
India, for they are spread out all over the country. Even if the 
areas in which each group is in a majority are separated, huge 
minorities belonging to the other group remain in each area. 
Thus instead of solving the minority problem, we create several 
in place of one. Other religious groups, like the Sikhs, are split 
up unfairly against their will and placed in two different states. 
In giving freedom to separate to one group, other groups, though 
in a minority, are denied that freedom and compelled to isolate 
themselves from the rest of India against their emphatic and 
deeply felt wishes. If it is said that the majority (religious) must 
prevail in each area, so far as the question of separation is 
concerned, there is no particular reason why the majority view 
should not decide the question for the whole of India. Or that 
each tiny area should not decide its independent status for itself 
and thus create a vast number of small states — an incredible 
and fantastic development. Even so it cannot be done with any 
logic, for religious groups are intermingled and overlap in the 
population all over the country. 

It is difficult enough to solve such problems by separation 

a suppression of those of whom he does not approve) is a strong advocate of the internal 
autonomy of the states. He is at the same time an aggressive and persistent opponent of 
'Pakistan', or any other suggested division. In an address delivered on October 6th, 1944, 
before the Bombay branch of the Indian Council of World Affairs, he said: 'The states, in 
other words, should, and in my view would, come into a scheme whereby the various political 
and administrative units in India, while exercising a full measure of autonomy in local 
matters, would co-operate with other units in the composition and working of the central 
legislative and executive organizations. Such organizations will function effectively within 
and without the limits of India as national and co-ordinating as well as representative bodies. 
Within the limits of India the relationship between the units will be one of equality and 
there will be no question of paramountcy as such inter se, though the rights residual and 
otherwise of the centre will have to be firmly established and implemented.' He further says: 
'My point is this, namely, that treaty rights or no treaty rights, no Indian state has a right 
to exist which does not come into any scheme by which there is created a central direction or 
central control of matters that appertain to the Indian states and British India alike, or which 
does not loyally conform to all political arrangements that may be arrived at for the 
governance of India and all ideologies that may be evolved as the result offree and equal 
discussion and resultant compromises.' '/wish to emphasize strongly, though I know I shjll 
evoke a certain amount of controversy, that no Indian state has the rigth to exist unless it is 
abreast of, if not ahead of, British India in the things that matter in relation to the well-being 
of the people'. 

Another fact that Ramaswami Aiyar emphasizes is that there is no getting away from 
the fact that it is impossible to deal with 601 states on an equal footing. He thinks that in a 
new constitution for India these 601 states will have to be reduced to something like fifteen 
or twenty, the others being absorbed into the larger units, province or state. 

Ramaswami Aiyar apparently does not attach very much importance to this internal political 
progress of the states, or at any rate considers this a secondary matter. Tet the lack of this, 
especially in the states otherwise advanced, inevitably leads to ceaseless conflict between the 
people and the state authorities. 

528 



where nationalities are concerned. But where the test becomes 

a religious one it becomes impossible of solution on any logical 
basis. It is a reversion to some medieval conception which cannot 
be fitted into the modern world. 

If the economic aspects of separation are considered it is clear 
that India as a whole is a strong and more-or-less self-sufficient 
economic unit. Any division will naturally weaken her and one 
part will have to depend on the other. If the division is made 
so as to separate the predominantly Hindu and Moslem areas, 
the former will comprise far the greater part of the mineral 
resources and industrial areas. The Hindu areas will not be so 
hard hit from this point of view. The Moslem areas, on the 
other hand, will be the economically backward, and often deficit, 
areas which cannot exist without a great deal of outside assist- 
ance. Thus the odd fact emerges that those who to-day demand 
separation will be the greatest sufferers from it. Because of a 
partial realization of this fact, it is now stated on their behalf 
that separation should take place in such a way as to give them 
an economically balanced region. Whether this is possible under 
any circumstances I do not know, but I rather doubt it. In any 
event any such attempt means forcibly attaching other large 
areas with a predominantly Hindu and Sikh population to the 
separated area. That would be a curious way of giving effect 
to the principle of self-determination. I am reminded of the 
story of the man who killed his father and mother and then 
threw himself on the mercy of the court as an orphan. 

Another very curious contradiction emerges. While the prin- 
ciple of self-determination is invoked, the idea of a plebiscite 
to decide this is not accepted, or at most, it is said that the 
plebiscite should be limited to Moslems only in the area. Thus 
in Bengal and the Punjab the Moslem population is about 54 
per cent or less. It is suggested that if there is to be voting only 
this 54 per cent should vote and decide the fate of the remaining 
46 per cent or more, who will have no say in the matter. This 
might result in 28 per cent deciding the fate of the remaining 72 
per cent. 

It is difficult to understand how any reasonable person can 
advance these propositions or expect them to be agreed to. I do 
not know, and nobody can know till an actual vote takes place 
on this issue, how many Moslems in the areas concerned would 
vote for partition. I imagine that a large number of them, 
possibly even a majority, would vote against it. Many Moslem 
organizations are opposed to it. Every non-Moslem, whether he 
is a Hindu, or Sikh, or Christian, or Parsee, is opposed to it. 
Essentially this sentiment in favour of partition has grown in 
the areas where Moslems are in a small minority — areas which. 

529 



in any event, would remain undetached from the rest of India. 
Moslems in provinces where they are in a majority have been 
less influenced by it; naturally, for they can stand on their own 
feet and have no reason to fear other groups. It is least in 
evidence in the North-West Frontier Province (95 per cent 
Moslem), where the Pathans are brave and self-reliant and have 
no fear complex. Thus, oddly enough, the Moslem League's pro- 
posal to partition India finds far less response in the Moslem 
areas sought to be partitioned than in the Moslem minority areas 
which are unaffected by it. Yet the fact remains that consider- 
able numbers of Moslems have become sentimentally attached 
to this idea of separation without giving thought to its conse- 
quences. Indeed, the proposition has so far only been vaguely 
stated and no attempt has been made to define it, in spite of 
repeated requests. 

I think this sentiment has been artificially created and has no 
roots in the Moslem mind. But even a temporary sentiment 
may be strong enough to influence events and create a new 
situation. Normally, adjustments would take place from time 
to time, but in the peculiar position in which India is situated 
to-day, with power concentrated in foreign hands, anything may 
happen. It is clear that any real settlement must be based on 
the goodwill of the constituent elements and on the desire of all 
parties to it to co-operate together for a common objective. In 
order to gain that any sacrifice in reason is worth while. Every 
group must not only be theoretically and actually free and have 
equal opportunities of growth, but should have the sensation 
of freedom and equality. It is not difficult, if passions and un- 
reasoning emotions are set aside, to devise such freedom with 
the largest autonomy for provinces and states and yet a strong 
central bond. There could even be autonomous units within the 
larger provinces or states, as in Soviet Russia. In addition to 
this, every conceivable protection and safeguard for minority 
rights could be inserted into the constitution. 

All this can be done, and yet I do not know how the future 
will take shape under the influence of various indeterminate 
factors and forces, the chief of these being British policy. It 
may be that some division of India is enforced, with some 
tenuous bond joining the divided parts. Even if this happens, I 
am convinced that the basic feeling of unity and world develop- 
ments will later bring the divided parts nearer to each other 
and result in a real unity. 

That unity is geographical, historical, and cultural, and all 
that; but the most powerful factor in its favour is the trend of 
world events. Many of us are of opinion that India is essentially 
a nation; Mr. Jinnah has advanced a two-nation theory and has 

530 



lately added to it and to political phraseology by describing 

some religious groups as sub-nations, whatever these might be. 
His thought identifies a nation with religion. That is not the 
usual approach to-day. But whether India is properly to be 
described as one nation or two or more really does not matter, 
for the modern idea of nationality has been almost divorced 
from statehood. The national state is too small a unit to-day 
and small states can have no independent existence. It is doubt- 
ful if even many of the larger national states can have any real 
independence. The national state is thus giving place to the 
multi-national state or to large federations. The Soviet Union 
is typical of this development. The United States of America, 
though bound together by strong national ties, constitute essen- 
tially a multi-national state. Behind Hitler's march across Europe 
there was something more than the nazi lust for conquest. New 
forces were working towards the liquidation of the small states 
system in Europe. Hitler's armies are now rapidly rolling back 
or are being destroyed, but the conception of large federations 
remains. 

Mr. H. G. Wells has been telling the world, with all the fire 
of an old prophet, that humanity is at the end of an age — an 
age of fragmentation in the management of its affairs, fragmen- 
tation politically among separate sovereign states and economi- 
cally among unrestricted business organizations competing for 
profit. He tells us that it is the system of nationalist indivi- 
dualism and unco-ordinated enterprise that is the world's disease. 
We shall have to put an end to the national state and devise a 
collectivism which neither degrades nor enslaves. The prophets 
are ignored and sometimes even stoned by their generation. And 
so Mr. Wells' warnings, and those of many others, are voices in 
the wilderness so far as those in authority are concerned. Never- 
theless, they point to inevitable trends. These trends can be 
hastened or delayed, or if those who have power are so blind, 
may even have to wait another and greater disaster before they 
take actual shape. 

In India, as elsewhere, we are too much under the bondage 
of slogans and set phrases derived from past events, and ideolo- 
gies which have little relevance to-day, and their chief function 
is to prevent reasoned thought and a dispassionate consideration 
of the situation as it exists. There is also the tendency towards 
abstractions and vague ideals, which arouse emotional responses 
and are often good in their way, but which also lead to a woolliness 
of the mind and unreality. In recent years a great deal has been 
written and said on the future of India, and especially on the 
partition or unity of India; and yet the astonishing fact remains 
that those who propose 'Pakistan' or partition have consistently 

531 



refused to define what they mean or to consider the implications 
of such a division. They move on the emotional plane only, as 
also many of those who oppose them, a plane of imagination and 
vague desire, behind which lie imagined interests. Inevitably, 
between these two emotional and imaginative approaches there is 
no meeting ground. And so 'Pakistan' and 'Akhand Hindustan' 
(undivided India) are bandied about and hurled at each other. 
It is clear that group emotions and conscious or subconscious urges 
count and must be attended to. It is at least equally clear that 
facts and realities do not vanish by our ignoring them or covering 
them up by a film of emotion; they have a way of emerging at 
awkward moments and in unexpected ways. And decisions taken 
primarily on the basis of emotions, or when emotions are the 
dominating consideration, are likely to be wrong and to lead to 
dangerous developments. 

It is obvious that whatever may be the future of India, and 
even if there is a regular partition, the different parts of India 
will have to co-operate with each other in a hundred different 
ways. Even independent nations have to co-operate with each 
other, much more so must Indian provinces or such parts as 
emerge from a partition, for these stand in an intimate relation- 
ship to each other and must hang together or deteriorate, dis- 
integrate, and lose their freedom. Thus the very first practical 
question is: What are the essential common bonds which must 
bind and cement various parts of India if she is to progress and 
remain free, and which are equally necessary even for the auto- 
nomy and cultural growth of those parts. Defence is an obvious 
and outstanding consideration, and behind that defence lie the 
industries feeding it, transport and communications, and some 
measure at least of economic planning. Customs, currency, and 
exchange also, and the maintenance of the whole of India as 
an internally free-trade area, for any internal tariff barriers 
would be fatal barriers to growth. And so on; there are many 
other matters which would inevitably, both from the point of 
view of the whole and the parts, have to be jointly and centrally 
directed. There is no getting away from it whether we are in 
favour of Pakistan or not, unless we are blind to everything 
except a momentary passion. The vast growth of air services 
to-day has led to the demand for their internationalization, or 
to some form of international control. Whether various coun- 
tries are wise enough to accept this is doubtful, but it is quite 
certain that air developments can only take place in India on 
an all-India basis; it is inconceivable for a partitioned India 
to make progress in regard to them in each part separately. 
This applies glso to many other activities which already tend 

to outgrow even national boundaries. India is big enough as 

t 

532 



a whole to give them scope for development, but not so parti- 
tioned India. 

Thus we arrive at the inevitable and ineluctable conclusion 
that, whether Pakistan comes or not, a number of important 
and basic functions of the state must be exercised on an all- 
India basis if India is to survive as a free state and progress. 
The alternative is stagnation, decay, and disintegration, leading 
to loss of political and economic freedom, both for India as a 
whole and its various separated parts. As has been said by an 
eminent authority: 'The inexorable logic of the age presents 
the country with radically different alternatives: union plus 
independence or disunion plus dependence.' What form the 
union is to take, and whether it is called union or by some 
other name, is not so important, though names have their own 
significance and psychological value. The essential fact is that a 
number of varied activities can only be conducted effectively on 
a joint all-India basis. Probably many of these activities will 
soon be under the control of international bodies. The world 
shrinks and its problems overlap. It takes less than three days 
now to go right across the world by air, from any one place to 
another, and to-morrow, with the development of stratosphere 
navigation, it may take even less time. India must become a 
great world centre of air travel, India will also be linked by rail 
to western Asia and Europe on the one side, and to Burma and 
China on the other. Not far from India, across the Himalayas 
in the north, lies in Soviet Asia one of the highly developed 
industrial areas, with an enormous future potential. India will 
be affected by this and will react in many ways. 

The way of approach, therefore, to the problem of unity or 
Pakistan, is not in the abstract and on the emotional level, but 
practically, and with our eyes on the present-day world. That 
approach leads us to certain obvious conclusions, that a binding 
cement in regard to certain important functions and matters is 
essential for the whole of India. Apart from them there may be 
and should be the fullest freedom to constituent units, and an 
intermediate sphere where there is both joint and separate 
functioning. There may be differences of opinion as to where 
one sphere ends, and the other begins, but such differences, when 
considered on a practical basis, are generally fairly easy of adjust- 
ment. 

But all this must necessarily be based on a spirit of willing 
co-operation, on the absence of a feeling of compulsion, and on 
the sensation of freedom in each unit and individual. Old vested 
interest have to go; it is equally important that no new ones 
are created. Certain proposab, based on metaphysical concep- 
tions of groups and forgetting the individuab who comprise 

533 



them, make one individual politically equal to two or three 
others and thus create new vested interests. Any such arrange- 
ment can only lead to grave dissatisfaction and instability. 

The right of any well-constituted area to secede from the 
Indian federation or union has often been put forward, and the 
argument of the U.S.S.R. advanced in support of it. That argu- 
ment has little application, for conditions there are wholly 
different and the right has little practical value. In the emotional 
atmosphere in India to-day it may be desirable to agree to this 
for the future in order to give that sense of freedom from com- 
pulsion which is so necessary. The Congress has in effect agreed 
to it. But even the exercise of that right involves a pre-consi- 
deration of all those common problems to which reference has 
been made. Also there is grave danger in a possibility of parti- 
tion and division to begin with, for such an attempt might well 
scotch the very beginnings of freedom and the formation of a 
free national state. Insuperable problems will rise and confuse 
all the real issues. Disintegration will be in the air and all 
manner of groups, who are otherwise agreeable to a joint and 
unified existence, will claim separate states for themselves, or 
special privileges which are encroachments on others. The 
problem of the Indian states will become far more difficult of 
solution, and the states system, as it is to-day, will get a new 
lease of life. The social and economic problems will be far 
harder to tackle. Indeed, it is difficult to conceive of any free 
state emerging from such a turmoil, and if something does 
emerge, it will be a pitiful caricature full of contradictions and 
insoluble problems. 

Before any such right of secession is exercised there must be 
a properly constituted, functioning, free India. It may be possible 
then, when external influences have been removed and real 
problems face the country, to consider such questions objectively 
and in a spirit of relative detachment, far removed from the 
emotionalism of to-day, which can only lead to unfortunate con- 
sequences which we may all have to regret later. Thus it may 
be desirable to fix a period, say ten years after the establishment 
of the free Indian state, at the end of which the right to secede 
may be exercised through proper constitutional process and in 
accordance with the clearly expressed will of the inhabitants of 
the area concerned. 

Many of us are utterly weary of present conditions in India 
and are passionately eager to find some way out. Some are even 
prepared to clutch at any straw that floats their way in the vague 
hope that it may afford some momentary relief, some breathing 
space to a system that has long felt strangled and suffocated. 
That is very natural. And yet there is danger in these rather 

534 



hysterical and adventurist approaches to vital problems affecting 
the well-being of hundreds of millions and the future peace of 
the world. We live continually on the verge of disaster in India, 
and indeed the disaster sometimes overwhelms us, as we saw in 
Bengal and elsewhere in India last year. The Bengal famine, 
and all that followed it, were not tragic exceptions due to extra- 
ordinary and unlooked for causes which could not be controlled 
or provided for. They were vivid, frightful pictures of India as 
she is, suffering for generations past from a deep-seated organic 
disease which has eaten into her very vitals. That disease will 
take more and more dangerous and disastrous forms unless we 
divert all our joint energies to its uprooting and cure. A divided 
India, each part trying to help itself and not caring for, or co- 
operating with, the rest, will lead to an aggravation of the disease 
and to sinking into a welter of hopeless, helpless misery. It is 
terribly late already and we have to make up for lost time. 
Must even the lesson of the Bengal famine be lost upon us? 
There are still many people who can think only in terms of 
political percentages, cf weightage, of balancing, of checks, of 
the preservation of privileged groups, of making new groups 
privileged, of preventing others from advancing because they 
themselves are not anxious to, or are incapable of, doing so, of 
vested interests, of avoiding major social and economic changes, 
of holding on to the present picture of India with only super- 
ficial alterations. That way lies supreme folly. 

The problems of the moment seem big and engross our atten- 
tion. And yet, in a longer perspective, they may have no great 
importance and, under the surface of superficial events, more 
vital forces may be at work. Forgetting present problems then 
for a while and looking ahead, India emerges as a strong united 
state, a federation of free units, intimately connected with her 
neighbours and playing an important part in world affairs. She 
is one of the very few countries which have the resources and 
capacity to stand on their own feet. To-day probably the only 
such countries are the United States of America and the Soviet 
Union. Great Britain can only be reckoned as one of these if 
the resources of her empire are added to her own, and even then 
a spread-out and disgruntled empire is a source of weakness. 
China and India are potentially capable of joining that group. 
Each of them is compact and homogeneous and full of natural 
wealth, manpower, and human skill and capacity; indeed India's 
potential industrial resources are probably even more varied 
and extensive than China's, and so also her exportable commo- 
dities which may be required for the imports she needs. No 
other country, taken singly, apart from these four, is actually or 
potentially in such a position. It is possible of course that large 

535 



federations or groups of nations may emerge in Europe or else- 
where and form huge multi-national states. 

The Pacific is likely to take the place of the Atlantic in the 
future as a nerve centre of the world. Though not directly a 
Pacific state, India will inevitably exercise an important in- 
fluence there. India will also develop as the centre of economic 
and political activity in the Indian Ocean area, in south-east 
Asia and right up to the Middle East. Her position gives an 
economic and strategic importance in a part of the world which 
is going to develop rapidly in the future. If there is a regional 
grouping of the countries bordering on the Indian Ocean on 
either side of India — Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, India, Ceylon, Burma, 
Malaya, Siam, Java, etc. — present day minority problems will 
disappear, or at any rate will have to be considered in an entirely 
different context. 

Mr. G. D. H. Cole considers India to be itself a supra-national 
area, and he thinks that in the long run she is destined to be the 
centre of a mighty supra-national state covering the whole of the 
Middle East and lying between a Sino-Japanese Soviet Republic, 
a new state based on Egypt, Arabia, and Turkey, and the Soviet 
Union in the north. All this is pure conjecture and whether any 
such development will ever take place no man can say. For my 
part I have no liking for a division of the world into a few huge 
supra-national areas, unless these are tied together by some strong 
world bond. But if people are foolish enough to avoid world unity 
and some world organization, then these vast supra-national regions, 
each functioning as one huge state but with local autonomy, are 
very likely to take shape. For the small national state is doomed. 
It may survive as a culturally autonomous area but not as an in- 
dependent political unit. 

Whatever happens it will be well for the world if India can make 
her influence felt. For that influence will always be in favour of 
peace and co-operation and against aggression. 

Realism and Geopolitics. World Conquest or World 

Association. 

The U.S.A. and the U.S.S.R 

The war has entered on its final stage in Europe and the nazi 
power collapses before the advancing armies in the east and west. 
Paris, that lovely and gracious city, so tied up with freedom's 
struggle, is itself free again. The problems of peace, more diffi- 
cult than those of war, rise up to trouble men's minds and behind 
them lies the disturbing shadow of the great failure of the years 
that followed World War I. Never again, it is said. So they said 
also in 1918. 

536 



Fifteen years ago, in 1929, Mr. Winston Churchill said: 'It is 
a tale that is told, from which we may draw the knowledge and 
comprehension needed for the future. The disproportion between 
the quarrels of nations and the suffering which fighting out those 
quarrels involves; the poor and barren prizes which reward sub- 
lime endeavour on the battlefield; the fleeting triumph of war; 
the long, slow, rebuilding; the awful risks so hardily run; the 
doom missed by a hair's breadth, by the spin of a coin, by the 
accident of an accident — all this should make the prevention of 
another great war the main preoccupation of mankind.' 

Mr. Churchill should know, for he has played a leading part 
in war and peace, led his country with extraordinary courage at 
a time of distress and peril and, in victory, nursed great ambitions 
on its behalf. After World War I, British armies occupied the whole 
of western Asia from the borders of India across Iran and Iraq 
and Palestine and Syria right up to Constantinople. Mr. Churchill 
saw then a vision of a new middle eastern empire for Britain, but 
fate decided otherwise. What dreams does he cherish now for 
the future? 'War is a strange, alchemist,' so wrote a gallant and 
distinguished colleague of mine, now in prison, 'and in its hidden 
chambers are such forces and powers brewed and distilled that they 
tear down the plans of the victorious and vanquished alike. No 
peace conference at the end of the last war dicided that four mighty 
empires of Europe and Asia should fall into dust — the Russian, 
the German, the Austrian, and the Ottoman. Nor was the Russian, 
the German, the Turkish revolution decreed by Lloyd George, 
Clemenceau, or Wilson.' 

What will the leaders of the victorious nations say when they 
meet together after success in war has crowned their efforts? 
How is the future taking shape in their minds, and how far do they 
agree or differ between themselves? What other reactions will 
there be when the passion of war subsides and people try to return 
to the scarce-remembered ways ofpeace? What of the underground 
resistance movements of Europe and the new forces they have 
released? What will the millions of war-hardened soldiers, return- 
ing home much older in mind and experience, say and do? How 
will they fit into the life which has gone on changing while they 
were away? What will happen to devastated and martyred Europe, 
and what to Asia and Africa? What of the 'overpowering surge 
for freedom of Asia's hundreds of millions,' as Mr. Wendell 
Willkie describes it? What of all this and more? And what, above 
all, of the strange trick that fate so often plays, upsetting the well- 
laid schemes of our leaders? 

As the war has developed and the danger of a possible victory 
of the fascist powers has receded, there has been a progressive 
hardening and a greater conservatism in the leaders of the United 

537 



Nations. The four freedoms and the Atlantic charter, vague as 
they were and limited in scope, have faded into the background, 
and the future has been envisaged more and more as a retention 
of the past. The struggle has taken a purely military shape, of 
physical force against force, and has ceased to be an attack on the 
philosophy of the nazis and fascists. General Franco and petty or 
prospective authoritarian rulers in Europe have been encouraged. 
Mr. Churchill still glories in the conception of empire. George 
Bernard Shaw recently declgred that: 'There is no power in the 
world more completely imbued with the idea of its dominance 
than the British empire. Even the word "empire" sticks in Mr. 
Churchill's throat every time he tries to utter it.'* 

There are many people in England, America and elsewhere 
who want the future to be different from the past and who fear 
that unless this is so, fresh wars and disasters, on a more colossal 
scale, will follow this present war. But those who have power 
and authority do not appear to be much influenced by these 
considerations, or are themselves in the grip of forces beyond 
their control. In England, America, and Russia we revert to the 
old game of power politics on a gigantic scale. That is considered 
realism and practical politics. An American authority on geo- 
politics, Professor N. J. Spykman, has written in a recent book: 
'The statesman who conducts foreign policy can concern himself 
with the values of justice, fairness, and tolerance only to the extent 
that they contribute to, or do not interfere with, the power objective. 
They can be used instrumentally as moraljustification for the power 
quest, but they must be discarded the moment their application 
brings weakness. The search for power is not made for the achieve- 
ment of moral values: moral values are used to facilitate the attain- 
ment of power.'! 

This may not be representative of American thought, but it 
certainly represents a powerful section of it. Mr. Walter Lipp- 

*It is clear thai the British ruling classes do not contemplate the ending of the era of imperia- 
lism; at the most they think in terms of modernizing their system of colonial rule. For them 
the possession of colonies is '« necessity of greatness and wealth.' The London Economist, 
representing influential opinion in Britain, wrote on September 16th, 1944: 'The American 
prejudice against "imperialism" — British, French, or Dutch — has led many of the postwar 
planners to assume that the old sovereignties will not be re-established in south-east Asia and 
that some form of international control, or the transfer of the imperium to local peoples, will 
lake the place of the old authority exercised by the western nations. Since this attitude exists 
and is even backed by the most widely distributed American journals and newspapers, it is 
time that the future intentions of the British, the French, and the Dutch were frankly and 
fully explained. Since none of them has any intention of abandoning its colonial empire, but 
on the contrary regards the restoration of Malaya to the British, the East Indies to the Dutch, 
and French Indo-China to the French as an essential part of the destruction of Japan's co- 
prosperity sphere, it would be inviting the worst sort of misunderstanding, and even accusation 
ofbadfaith, if the three nations allowed any doubt on the matter to continue in the mind 
of their American ally. ' 
t' America's Strategy in World Politics.' 

538 



man's vision of the three or four orbits encompassing the globe 
— the Atlantic community, the Russian, the Chinese, and later 
the Hindu-Moslem in South Asia — is a continuation of power 
politics on a vaster scale, and it is difficult to understand how 
he can see any world peace or co-operation emerging out of it. 
America is a curious mixture of what is considered hard-headed 
realism and a vague idealism and humanitarianism. Which of 
these will be the dominating tendency of the future, or what 
will result from their mixing together? Whatever the mass of the 
people may think, foreign policy remains a preserve for the ex- 
perts in charge of it and they are usually wedded to a continua- 
tion of old traditions and fear any innovations which might 
involve their countries in new risks. Realism of course there must 
be, for no nation can base its domestic or foreign policy on mere 
good-will and flights of the imagination. But it is a curious realism 
that sticks to the empty shell of the past and ignores or refuses to 
understand the hard facts of the present, which are not only political 
and economic but also include the feelings and urges of vast num- 
bers of people. Such realism is more imaginative and divorced 
from to-day's and to-morrow's problems than much of the so- 
called idealism of many people. 

Geopolitics has now become the anchor of the realist and its 
jargon of 'heartland' and 'rimland' is supposed to throw light on 
the mystery of national growth and decay. Originating in Eng- 
land (or was it Scotland?), it became the guiding light of the 
nazis, fed their dreams and ambitions of world domination, and 
led them to disaster. A partial truth is sometimes more dangerous 
than a falsehood; a truth that has had its day blinds one to the 
reality of the present. H. J. Mackinder's theory of geopolitics, 
subsequently developed in Germany, was based on the growth 
of civilization on the oceanic fringes of the continents (Asia and 
Europe), which had to be defended from pressure from land 
invaders from the 'heartland,' which was supposed to be the 
centre of the Eurasian block. Control of this heartland meant 
world domination. But civilization is no longer confined to the 
oceanic fringes and tends to become universal in its scope and 
content. The growth of the Americas also does not fit in with 
a Eurasian heartland dominating the world. And air-power has 
brought a new factor which has upset the balance between sea- 
power and land-power. 

Germany, nursing dreams of world conquest, was obsessed by 
fears of encirclement. Soviet Russia feared a combination of her 
enemies. England's national policy has long been based on a 
balance of power in Europe and opposition to any dominating 
power there. Always there has been fear of others, and that fear 
has led to aggression and tortuous intrigues. An entirely new 
situation will arise after the present war, with two dominating 

539 



world powers — the U.S.A. and the U.S.S.R. — and the rest a good 
distance behind them, unless they form some kind of bloc. And 
now even the United States of America are told by Professor 
Spykman, in his last testament, that they are in danger of en- 
circlement, that they should ally themselves with a 'rimland' 
nation, that in any event they should not prevent the 'heartland' 
(which means now the U.S.S.R.) from uniting with the rimland. 

All this looks very clever and realistic and yet is supremely 
foolish, for it is based on the old policy of expansion and empire 
and the balance ofpower, which inevitably leads to conflict and 
war. Since the world happens to be round, every country is 
encircled by others. To avoid such encirclements by the methods 
of power politics, there must be alliances and counter-alliances, 
expansion, and conquest. But, however huge a country's domi- 
nation or sphere of influence becomes, there is always the danger 
of encirclement by those who have been left out of it, and who, 
on their part, fear this abnormal growth of a rival power. The 
only way to get rid of this danger is by world conquest or by the 
eliminations of every possible rival. We are witnessing to-day the 
failure of the latest attempt at world domination. Will that lesson 
be learnt or will there be others, driven by ambition and pride 
of race and power, to try their fortunes on this fatal field? 

There really seems no alternative between world conquest and 
world association; there is no choice of a middle course. The 
old divisions and the quest of power politics have little meaning 
to-day and do not fit in with our environment, yet they continue. 
The interests and activities of states overflow their boundaries 
and are world-wide. No nation can isolate itself or be indifferent 
to the political or economic fate of other nations. If there is no 
co-operation there is bound to be friction with its inevitable 
results. Co-operation can only be on a basis of equality and mutual 
welfare, on a pulling-up of the backward nations and peoples to 
a common level of well-being and cultural advancement, on 
an elimination of racialism and domination. No nation and no 
people are going to tolerate domination and exploitation by 
another, even though this is given some more pleasant name. 
Nor will they remain indifferent to their own poverty and misery 
when other parts of the world are flourishing. That was only 
possible when there was ignorance of what was happening else- 
where. 

All this seems obvious, and yet the long record of past hap- 
penings tell us that the mind of man lags far behind the course 
of events and adjusts itself only slowly to them. Self-interest itself 
should drive every nation to this wider co-operation in order to 
escape disaster in the future and build its own free life on the basis 
of others' freedom. But the self-interest of the 'realist' is far too 
limited by past myths and dogmas, and regards ideas and social 
540 



forms, suited to one age, as immutable and as unchanging parts 
of human nature and society, forgetting that nothing is so change- 
able as human nature and society. Religious forms and notions 
take permanent shape, social institutions become petrified, war 
is looked upon as a biological necessity, empire and expansion 
as the prerogatives of a dynamic and progressive people, the profit 
motive as the central fact dominating human relations, and 
ethnocentrism, a belief in racial superiority, becomes an article 
of faith and, even when not proclaimed, is taken for granted. Some 
of these ideas were common to the civilizations of east and west; 
many of them form the back-ground of modern western civilization 
out of which fascism and nazism grew. Ethically there is no great 
difference between them and the fascist creed, though the latter 
went much further in its contempt for human life and all that 
humanism stands for. Indeed, humanism, which coloured the 
outlook of Europe for so long, is a vanishing tradition there. The 
seeds offascism were present in the political and economic structure 
ofthe west. Unless there is a break from this past ideology, success 
in war brings no great change. The old myths and fancies continue 
and, pursued as of old by the Furies, we go through the self-same 
cycle again. 

The two outstanding facts emerging from the war are the 
growth in power and actual and potential wealth of the U.S.A. 
and the U.S.S.R. The Soviet Union actually is probably poorer 
than it was prior to the war, owing to enormous destruction, but 
its potential is tremendous and it will rapidly make good and 
go further ahead. In physical and economic power there will be 
none to challenge it on the Eurasian continent. Already it is 
showing an expansionist tendency and is extending its territories 
more or less on the basis ofthe Tsar's Empire. How far this process 
will go it is difficult to say. Its socialist economy does not neces- 
sarily lead to expansion for it can be made self-sufficient. But other 
forces and old suspicions are at play and again we notice the fear 
of so-called encirclement. In any event the U.S.S.R. will be busy 
for many years in repairing the ravages of war. Yet the tendency 
to expand, if not in territory then in other ways, is evident. No 
other country to-day presents- such a politically solid and econo- 
mically well-balanced picture as the Soviet Union, though some 
ofthe developments there in recent years have come as a shock to 
many of its old admirers. Its present leaders have an unchallengeable 
position, and everything depends on their outlook for the future. 

The United States of America have astonished the world by 
their stupendous production and organizing capacity. They 
have thus not only played a leading part in the war but have 
accelerated a process inherent in American economy and produc- 
ed a problem for themselves which will tax their wits and energies 

541 



to the utmost. Indeed it is not easy to foresee how they will solve 
it within the limits of their existing economic structure without 
serious internal and external friction. It is said that America has 
ceased to be isolationist. Inevitably so, for she must now depend 
to an extent on her exports abroad. What was a marginal factor 
in her pre-war economy, which could almost be ignored, will now 
be a dominant consideration. Where will all these exports go to, 
without creating friction and conflict, when production for peace 
takes the pace of war production? And how will the millions of 
armed men returning home be absorbed? Every warring country 
will have to face this problem, but none to the same extent as the 
U.S.A. The vast technological changes that have taken place will 
lead to very great over-production or to mass unemployment, or 
possibly to both. Unemployment on any major scale will be bitterly 
resented and has been ruled out by the declared policy of the 
United States Government. Much thought is already being given 
to the absorption of the returning soldiers, etc., in gainful employ- 
ment and to the prevention of unemployment. Whatever the 
domestic aspect of all this may be, and it will be serious enough 
unless basic changes take place, the international aspect is equally 
important. 

Such is the curious nature of present-day economy in these 
days of mass production, that the U.S.A., the wealthiest and most 
powerful country in the world, becomes dependent on other 
countries absorbing its surplus production. For some years after 
the war there will be a big demand in Europe, China, and India 
for machinery as well as manufactured goods. This will be of 
considerable help to America to dispose of her surplus. But 
every country will rapidly develop its own capacity to manufac- 
ture most of its needs, and exports will tend to be limited to 
specialized goods not produced elsewhere. The consumption 
capacity will also be limited by the purchasing power of the masses, 
and to raise this fundamental economic changes will be needed. 
It is conceivable that with the substantial raising of the standard 
of living all over the world, international trade and exchange 
of goods will prosper and increase. But that raising itself requires 
a removal of political and economic fetters on production and 
distribution in the colonial and backward countries. That 
inevitably involves big changes with their consequent dislocation 
and adaptation to new systems. 

England's economy has been based in the past on a big export 
business, on investments abroad, on the City of London's finan- 
cial leadership, and on a vast maritime carrier trade. Before the 
war Britain depended on imports for nearly 50 per cent of her 
food supplies. Probably this dependence is less now owing to her 
intensive food-growing campaign. These imports of food as well 

542 



as raw materials had to be paid for by exports of manufactured 
goods, investments, shipping, financial services, and what are 
called 'invisible' exports. Foreign trade and, in particular, a 
large volume of exports were thus an essential and vital feature 
of British economy. That economy was maintained by the exei- 
cise of monopoly controls in the colonial areas and special arrange- 
ments within the empire to maintain some kind of equilibrium. 
Those monopoly controls and arrangements were much to the 
disadvantage of the colonies and dependencies and it is hardly 
possible to maintain them in these old forms in future. Britain's 
foreign investments have disappeared and given place to huge 
debts, and London's financial supremacy has also gone. This 
means that in the post-war years Britain will have to depend even 
more on her export business and her carrier trade. And yet the 
possibilities of increasing exports, or even maintaining them at 
the old level, are strictly limited. 

Great Britain's imports (less re-exports) in the pre-war years 
1936-38 averaged £866,000,000. They were paid for as follows: 

Exports • . • • £478 million. 

Income on foreign investments . . £203 „ 

Shipping services .. .. £105 „ 

Financial services . . . . £40 „ 

Deficit .. •. £40 

£866 million. 

Instead of the substantial income from foreign investment 
there is going to be a heavy burden of external debt, due to 
borrowings in goods and services (apart from American Lend- 
Lease) from India, Egypt, Argentine, and other countries. Lord 
Keynes has estimated that, at the end of the war, these frozen 
sterling credits will amount to £3,000,000,000. At 5 per cent 
this will amount to £150 million per annum. Thus on a pre-war 
average basis Britain may have to face a deficit of considerably 
over £300 millions annually. Unless this is made good by addi- 
tional income from exports and various services, it will lead to a 
marked reduction in living standards. 

This appears to be the governing factor in Britain's post-war 
policy, and if she is to maintain her present economy, she feels 
she must retain her colonial empire, with only such minor changes 
as are unavoidable, only as the dominant partner of a group 
of countries, colonial and non-colonial, does she hope to play 
a leading role, and to balance, politically and economically, the 
vast resources of the two giant powers — the United States of 
America and the Soviet Union. Hence the desire to continue her 
empire, to hold on to what she has got, as well as to extend her 

543 



sphere of influence over fresh territories, for instance over Thailand. 
Hence also the aim of British policy to bring about a closer inte- 
gration with the Dominions, as well as some of the smaller coun- 
tries of western Europe. French and Dutch colonial policy gene- 
rally support the British view in regard to colonies and depend- 
encies. The Dutch Empire is indeed very much a 'satellite 
empire' and it could not continue to exist without the British 
Empire. 

It is easy to understand these trends of British policy, based, 
as they are, on past outlook and standards and formulated by 
men tied up with that past. Yet, within that past context of a 
nineteenth century economy, the difficulties facing Britain to-day 
are very great. In the long run, her position is weak, her economy 
unsuited to present-day conditions, her economic resources are 
limited, and her industrial and military strength cannot be main- 
tained at the old level. There is an essential instability in the 
methods suggested to maintain that old economy, for they lead 
to unceasing conflict, to lack of security, and to the growth of 
ill-will in the dependencies, which may make the future still 
more perilous for Britain. The desire of the British, understand- 
ble enough, to maintain their living standards on the old level 
and even to raise them, is thus made dependent upon protected 
markets for British exports and controlled colonial and other 
areas for the supply of raw materials and cheap food. This means 
that British living standards must be kept up even at the cost of 
keeping down at subsistence level or less hundreds of millions of 
peoples in Asia and Africa. No one wants to reduce British stand- 
ards, but it is obvious that the peoples of Asia and Africa are never 
going to agree to the maintenance of this colonial economy which 
keeps them at a sub-human level. The annual purchasing power 
(pre-war) in Britain is said to have been £9 7 per capita (in the 
U.S.A. it was much greater); in India it was less than £6. These 
vast differences cannot be tolerated, and indeed the diminishing 
returns of a colonial economy ultimately affect adversely even 
the dominating power. In the U.S.A. this is vividly realized, and 
hence their desire to raise the colonial peoples' purchasing power 
through industrialization and self-government. Even in Britain 
there is some realization of the necessity of Indian industrialization, 
and -he Bengal famine made many people think furiously on this 
subject. But British policy aims at industrial development in India 
under British control with a privileged position for British industry. 
The industrialization of India, as of other countries in Asia, is 
bound to take place; the only question is one of pace. But it is very 
doubtful if it can be fitted in with any form of colonial economy 
or foreign control. 

The British Empire, as it is to-day, is not of course a geogra- 
phical unit; nor is it an effective economic or military unit. It is 

544 



a historical and sentimental unit. Sentiment and old bonds count 
still, but they are not likely to override, in the long run, other 
more vital considerations. And even this sentiment applies only 
to certain areas containing populations racially similar to the 
people of Britain. It certainly does not apply to India or the rest 
of the dependent colonial empire, where it is the other way about. 
It does not even apply to South Africa, so far as the Boers are 
concerned. In the major Dominions subtle changes are taking 
place which tend to weaken their traditional links with Britain. 
Canada, which has grown greatly in industrial stature during 
the war, is an important power, closely tied up with the U.S.A. 
She has developed an expanding economy which will, in some 
repects, come in the way of British industry. Australia and New 
Zealand, also with expanding economics, are realizing that they 
are not in the European orbit of Great Britain but in the Asiatic- 
American orbit of the Pacific, where the United States are likely 
to play a dominant role. Culturally, both Canada and Australia 
are progressively drawn towards the U.S.A. 

The British colonial outlook to-day does not fit in with Ameri- 
can policy and expansionist tendencies. The United States want 
open markets for their exports and do not look with favour on 
attempts by other powers to limit or control them. They want 
rapid industrialization of Asia's millions and higher standards 
everywhere, not for sentimental reasons but to dispose of their 
surplus goods. Friction between American and British export 
businesses and maritime trade seems to be inevitable. America's 
desire to establish world air supremacy, for which she has at 
present abundant resources, is resented in England. America 
probably favours an independent Thailand while England would 
prefer to make it a semi-colony. These opposing approaches based, 
in each case, on the nature of the respective economy aimed at, 
run through the whole colonial sphere. 

The aim of British policy to have a closer integration of the 
commonwealth and empire is understandable in the peculiar cir- 
cumstances in which Britain is placed to-day. But against it is 
the logic of facts and world tendencies, as well as the growth of 
dominion nationalism and the disruptive tendencies of the colo- 
nial empire. To try to build on old foundations, to continue to 
think in terms of a vanished age, to dream and talk still of an 
empire and of monopolies spread out all over the globe, is for 
Britain an even more unwise and shortsighted policy than it might 
be for some other nations; for most of the reasons which made 
her a politically, industrially, and financially dominant nation 
have disappeared. Nevertheless Britain has had in the past, and 
has still, remarkable qualities — courage and the will to pull to- 
gether, scientific and constructive ability and a capacity for adapt- 

545 



ation. These qualities, and others which she possesses go a long 
way to make a nation great and enable it to overcome the dan- 
gers and perils that confront it. And so she may be able to face 
her vital and urgent problems by changing over to a different 
and more balanced economic structure. But it is highly unlikely 
that she will succeed if she tries to continue, as of old, with an 
empire tacked on to her and supporting her. 

Much will inevitably depend on American and Soviet policy, 
and on the degree of co-ordination or conflict between the two 
and Britain. Everybody talks loudly about the necessity for the 
Big Three to pull together in the interests of world peace and 
co-operation, yet rifts and differences peep out at every stage, even 
during the course of the war. Whatever the future may hold, it 
is clear that the economy of the U.S.A. after the war will be 
powerfully expansionist and almost explosive in its consequences. 
Will this lead to some new kind of imperialism ? It would be yet 
another tragedy if it did so, for America has the power and oppor- 
tunity to set the pace for the future. 

The future policy of the Soviet Union is yet shrouded in 
mystery, but there have been some revealing glimpses of it already. 
It aims at having as many friendly and dependent or semi- 
dependent countries near its borders as possible. Though working 
with other powers for the establishment of some world organi- 
zation, it relies more on building up its own strength on an un- 
assailable basis. So, presumably, do other nations also, in so far 
as they can. That is not a hopeful prelude to world co-operation. 
Between the Soviet Union and other countries there is not the 
same struggle for export markets as between Britain and the U.S.A. 
But the differences are deeper, their respective viewpoints further 
apart, and mutual suspicions have not been allayed even by joint 
effort in the war. If these differences grow, the U.S.A. and Britain 
will tend to seek each other's company and support as against the 
U.S.S.R. group of nations. 

Where do the hundreds of millions of Asia and Africa come 
in this picture ? They have become increasingly conscious of 
themselves and their destiny, and at the same time are also world 
conscious. Large numbers of them follow world events with inte- 
rest. For them, inevitably, the test of each move or happening is 
this: Does it help towards our liberation? Does it end the domi- 
nation of one country over another? Will it enable us to live freely 
the life of our choice in co-operation with others? Does it bring 
equality and equal opportunity for nations as well as groups 
within each nation? Does it hold forth the promise of an early 
liquidation of poverty and illiteracy and bring better living condi- 
tions ? They are nationalistic but this nationalism seeks no dominion 
over, or interference with, others. They welcome all attempts at 

546 



world co-operation and the establishment of an international 
order, but they wonder and suspect if this may not be another 
device for continuing the old domination. Large parts of Asia 
and Africa consist of an awakened, discontented, seething huma- 
nity, no longer prepared to tolerate existing conditions. Conditions 
and problems differ greatly in the various countries of Asia, but 
throughout this vast area, in China and India, in south-east Asia, 
in western Asia, and the Arab world run common threads of senti- 
ment and invisible links which hold them together. 

For a thousand years or more, while Europe was backward and 
often engulfed in its dark ages, Asia represented the advancing 
spirit of man. Epoch after epoch of a brilliant culture flourished 
there and great centres of civilization and power grew up. About 
five hundred years ago Europe revived and slowly spread east- 
ward and westward till, in the course of centuries, it became the 
dominant continent of the world in power, wealth, and culture. 
Was there some cycle about this change and is that process now 
being reversed? Certainly, power and authority have shifted 
more to America in the far west and to eastern Europe, which 
was organically hardly a part of the European heritage. And in 
the east also there has been tremendous growth in Siberia, and 
other countries of the east are ripe for change and rapid advance. 
Will there be conflict in the future or a new equilibrium between 
the east and the west? 

But only the distant future will decide that, and it serves little 
purpose to look so far ahead. For the present we have to carry 
the burden of the day and face the many problems which afflict 
us. Behind these problems in India, as in many other countries, 
lies the real issue, which is not merely the establishment of demo- 
cracy of the nineteenth century European type but also of far- 
reaching social revolution. Democracy has itself become involved 
in that seemingly inevitable change, and hence among those who 
disapprove of the latter, doubts and denials arise about the feasibi- 
lity of democracy, and this leads to fascist tendencies and the 
continuation of an imperialist outlook. All our present-day problems 
in India — the communal or minority problem, the Indian princes, 
vested interests of religious groups and the big landowners, and 
the entrenched interests of British authority and industry in India 
— ultimately resolve themselves into opposition to social change. 
And because any real democracy is likely to lead to such change, 
therefore democracy itself is objected to and considered as un- 
suited to the peculiar conditions of India. So the problems of 
India, for all their seeming variety and differences from others, 
are of the same essential nature as the problems of China or Spain 
or many other countries of Europe and elsewhere, which the war 
has brought to the surface. Many of the resistance movements of 

547 



Europe reflect these conflicts. Everywhere the old equilibrium of 
social forces has been upset, and till a new equilibrium is esta- 
blished there will be tension, trouble, and conflict. From these 
problems of the moment we are led to one of the central problems 
of our time: how to combine democracy with socialism, how to 
maintain individual freedom and initiative and yet have centra- 
lized social control and planning of the economics of the people, 
on the national as well as the international plane. 

Freedom and Empire 

The U.S.A. and the Soviet Union seem destined to play a vital 
part in the future. They differ from each other almost as much 
as any two advanced countries can differ and even their faults 
lie in opposite directions. All the evils of a purely political demo- 
cracy are evident in the U.S.A.; the evils of the lack of political 
democracy are present in the U.S.S.R. And yet they have much 
in common — a dynamic outlook and vast resources, a social 
fluidity, an absence of a medieval background, a faith in science 
and its applications, and widespread education and opportunities 
for the people. In America, in spite of vast differences in income, 
there are no fixed classes as in most countries and there is a sense 
of equality. In Russia, the outstanding event of the past twenty 
years has been the tremendous educational and cultural achieve- 
ments of the masses. Thus in both countries the essential basis for 
a progressive, democratic society is present, for no such society 
can be based on the rule of a small intellectual elite over an ignorant 
and apathetic people. Nor can such an elite long continue to domi- 
nate over an educationally and culturally advanced people. 

A hundred years ago de Tocqueville, discussing the Americans 
Of those days, said: 'If the democratic principle does not, on the 
one hand, induce men to cultivate science for its own sake, on 
the other, it does enormously increase the number of those who 
do cultivate it... .Permanent inequality of conditions leads men 
to confine themselves to the arrogant and sterile researches of 
abstract truths, whilst the social condition and institutions of 
democracy prepare them to seek the immediate and useful prac- 
tical results of the sciences. The tendency is natural and inevit- 
able.' Since then America has developed and changed and be- 
come an amalgam of many races, but its essential characteristics 
continue. 

Yet another common characteristic of both Americans and 
Russians is that they do not carry that heavy burden of the past 
which has oppressed Asia and Europe, and conditioned to a great 
extent their activities and conflicts. They cannot, of course, escape, 
as none of us can, the terrible burden of this generation. But they 

548 



have a clearer past, so far as other people are concerned, and are 
less encumbered for their journey into the future. 

As a result of this they can approach other peoples without that 
background of mutual distrust which always accompanies the 
contacts of well-established imperialist nations with others. Not 
that their past is free of spots and stains and suspicions. Americans 
have their negro problem which is a continuing reproach to their 
professions of democracy and equality. Russians have yet to wipe 
out memories of past hatreds in eastern Europe and the present 
war is adding to them. Still Americans make friends easily in 
other countries. Russians are almost totally devoid of racialism. 

Most of the European nations are full of mutual hatreds and 
past conflicts and injustices. The imperialist powers have inevitably 
added to this the intense dislike for them of people over whom 
they have ruled. Because of England's long record of imperialist 
rule, her burden is the greatest. Because of this, or because ofracial 
characteristics, Englishmen are reserved and exclusive and do not 
easily make friends with others. They are unfortunately judged 
abroad by their official representatives who are seldom the standard- 
bearers of their liberalism or culture, and who often combine 
snobbery with an apparent piety. These officials have a peculiar 
knack of antagonising others. Some months ago a secretary to the 
Government of India wrote an official letter to Mr. Gandhi (in 
detention) which was an example of studied insolence, and which 
was looked upon by large numbers of people as a deliberate insult 
to the Indian people. For Gandhi happens to be a symbol of India. 

Another era of imperialism, or an age of international co- 
operation or world commonwealth, which is it going to be in 
the future? The scales incline towards the former and the old 
arguments are repeated but not with the old candour. The moral 
urges of mankind and its sacrifices are used for base ends, and 
rulers exploit the goodness and nobility of man for evil purposes 
and take advantage of the fears, hatreds, and false ambitions 
of the people. They used to be more frank about empire in the 
old days. Speaking of the Athenian empire, Thucydides wrote: 
'We make no fine profession of having a right to our empire 
because we overthrew the Barbarian single-handed, or because 
we risked our existence for the sake of our dependents and of 
civilization. States, like men, cannot be blamed for providing for 
their proper safety. If we are now here in Sicily, it is in the interest 

of our own security It is fear that forces us to cling to our 

empire in Greece, and it is fear that drives us hither, with the 
help of our friends, to order matters in Sicily.' And again when 
he referred to the tribute of the Athenian colonies: 'It may seem 
wickedness to have won it; but it is certainly folly to let it go.' 

The history of Athens is full of lessons of the incompatibility 

549 



of democracy with empire, of the tyranny of a democratic state 
over its colonies, and the swift deterioration and fall of that empire. 
No upholder of freedom and empire to-day could state his case 
so well and so eloquently as Thucydides did: 'We are the leaders 
of civilization, the pioneers of the human race. Our society and 
intercourse is the highest blessing man can confer. To be within 
the circle of our influence is not dependence but a privilege. Not 
all the wealth of the east can repay the riches we bestow. So we 
can work on cheerfully, using the means and the money that 
flow into us, confident that, try as they will, we shall still be credi- 
tors. For through effort and suffering and on many a stricken 
field we have found the secret of human power, which is the secret 
of happiness. Men have guessed at it under many names; but 
we alone have learnt to know it and to make it at home in our city. 
And the name we know it by is freedom, for it has taught us that 
to serve is to be free. Do you wonder why it is that alone among 
mankind we confer our benefits, not on conditions of self-interest, 
but in the fearless confidence of freedom?' 

All this has a familiar ring in these days when freedom and 
democracy are so loudly proclaimed and yet limited to some 
only. There is truth in it and a denial of truth. Thucydides knew 
little of the rest of mankind and his vision was confined to the 
Mediterranean countries. Proud of the freedom of his famous city, 
praising this freedom as the secret of happiness and human power, 
yet he did not realize that others also aspired to this freedom. 
Athens, lover of freedom, sacked and destroyed Melos and put 
to death all the grown men there and sold the women and children 
as slaves. Even while Thucydides was writing of the empire and 
freedom of Athens, that empire had crumbled away and that 
freedom was no more. 

For it is not possible for long to combine freedom with domi- 
nation and slavery; one overcomes the other and only a little 
time divides the pride and glory of empire from its fall. To-day, 
much more than ever before, freedom is indivisible. The splendid 
eulogy of Pericles for his beloved city was followed soon after 
by its fall and the occupation of the Acropolis by a Spartan 
garrison. Yet his words move us still for their love of beauty, 
wisdom, freedom and courage, not merely in their application 
to the Athens of his day, but in the larger context of the world: 
'We are lovers of beauty without extravagance, and lovers of 
wisdom without unmanliness. Wealth to us is not mere material 
for vainglory but an opportunity for achievement; and poverty 
we think it no disgrace to acknowledge but a real degradation 

to make no effort to overcome Let us draw strength, not 

merely from twice-told arguments — how fair and noble a thing 
it is to show courage in battle — but from the busy spectacle of 

550 



our great city's life as we have it before us day by day, falling in 
love with her as we see her, and remembering that all this great- 
ness she owes to men with the fighter's daring, the wise man's 
understanding of his duty, and the good man's self-discipline in 
its performance — to men who, if they failed in any ordeal, dis- 
dained to deprive the city of their services, but sacrificed their 
lives as the best offerings on her behalf. So they gave their bodies 
to the commonwealth and received, each for his own memory, 
praise that will never die, and with it the grandest of all sepulchres, 
not that in which their mortal bones are laid, but a home in the 
minds of men, where their glory remains fresh to stir to speech 
or action as the occasion comes by. For the whole earth is a 
sepulchre of famous men; and their story is not graven only on 
stone over their native earth, but lives on far away, without 
visible symbol, woven into the stuff of other men's lives. For you 
now it remains to rival what they have done and, knowing the 
secret of happiness to be freedom and the secret of freedom a 
brave heart, not idly to stand aside from the enemy's onset.'* 

The Problem of Population. Falling Birth-rates and 
National Decay 

Five years of war have brought about enormous changes and 
displacements of population on a vaster scale probably than at 
any previous epoch of history. Apart from the scores of millions 
of war casualties, more especially in China, Russia, Poland, and 
Germany, masses of people have been uprooted from their homes 
and countries. There have been military requirements, labour 
demands and enforced evacuations, and swarms of refugees have 
fled before invading armies. Even before the war the refugee 
problem in Europe, due to nazi policy, had grown to formidable 
proportions. But these pale into insignificance when compared 
to war developments. Apart from the direct consequences of the 
war, the changes in Europe are largely due to a deliberate demo- 
graphic policy pursued by the nazis. They have apparently killed 
off millions of Jews and broken up the population integrity of 
many countries occupied by them. In the Soviet Union many 
millions have moved east, forming new settlements on the other 
side of the Urals, which are likely to be permanent. In China it 
is estimated that fifty million people have been torn from their 
roots. 

Attempts will, no doubt, be made to repatriate and rehabili- 
tate these people, or such as survive after the war, though the 
task is one of prodigious complexity. Many will come back to 

* The quotations from Thucydides have been taken from Alfred A immern's 'The Greek 
Commonwealth' (1924). 



their old homes, many may choose to remain in their new en- 
vironment. On the other hand, it seems also likely that, as a result 
of political changes in Europe, there will be further displacement 
and exchange of populations. 

Of far deeper and more far-reaching significance are the 
changes, partly physiological and biological, that are rapidly 
changing the population of the world. The industrial revolution 
and the spread of modern technology resulted in a rapid growth 
of population in Europe, and more especially in north-western 
and central Europe. As this technology has spread eastwards to 
the Soviet Union, aided by a new economic structure and other 
factors, there has been an even more spectacular increase in 
population in these regions. This eastward sweep of technology, 
accompanied by education, sanitation, and better public health, 
is continuing and will cover many of the countries of Asia. Some 
of these countries, like India, far from needing a bigger popula- 
tion, 'would be better off with fewer people. 

Meanwhile, in western Europe a reverse process has set in as 
regard population and the problem of a falling birth-rate is grow- 
ing in importance. 

This tendency appears to be widespread and affects most coun- 
tries in the world, with some notable exceptions like China, 
India, Java, and the U.S.S.R. It is most marked in the industrially 
advanced countries. The population of France ceased to grow 
many years ago and is now slowly declining. In England a steady 
fall in the fertility rate has been noticeable since the eighties of 
the last century, and it is the lowest now in Europe, except for 
France. Hitler's and Mussolini's efforts to increase the birth-rate 
in Germany and Italy bore only temporary results. In northern, 
western, and central Europe the decline is more marked than in 
southern and eastern Europe (exclusive of U.S.S.R.), but similar 
tendencies are observable in all these regions. Europe, apart 
from Russia, reaches its maximum population, according to 
present trends, about 1955 and then begins to decline. This 
has nothing to do with war losses which will aggravate this down- 
ward tendency. 

The Soviet Union, on the other hand, goes on rapidly increas- 
ing its population and is likely to reach a figure exceeding 250 
millions by 1970. This does not include any additions due to 
territorial changes as a result of the war. This growth of popu- 
lation taken together with technological and other kinds of 
progress inevitably makes it the dominant power in Europe and 
Asia. In Asia much depends on the industrial development of 
China and India. Their huge populations are a burden and a 
weakness unless they are properly and productively organized. 
In Europe the great colonial powers of the past appear to have 

552 



definitely passed the stage of expansion and aggression. Their 
economic and political organization and the skill and ability of 
their people may still give them an important place in world 
affairs, but they will progressively cease to count as major powers, 
unless they function as a group. 'It does not seem likely that any 
nation of north-western and central Europe will challenge the 
world again. Germany, like her western neighbours, has passed 
the period in which she could become a dominant world power, 
owing to the diffusion of technological civilization to peoples that 
are growing more rapidly.'* 

Technological and industrial growth have brought power to a 
number of western peoples and countries. It is exceedingly un- 
likely that this source of power will remain the monopoly of a few 
nations. Hence the political and economic dominance of Europe 
over great parts of the world must inevitably decline rapidly 
and it will cease to be the nerve-centre of the Eurasian continent 
and Africa. Because of this basic reason the old European powers 
will think and act more in terms of peace and international co- 
operation and will avoid war in so far as they can. When aggres- 
sion is almost certain to lead to disaster, it ceases to attract. But 
those world powers, that are still dominant, have not the same 
urge to co-operation with others, unless it is the moral urge, which 
is very seldom associated with power. 

What is the cause of this widespread phenomenon of falling 
birth-rates? The increasing use of contraceptives and the desire 
to have small regulated families may have produced some effect,' 
but it is generally recognized that this has not made any great 
difference. In Ireland, which is a catholic country and where 
contraceptives are presumably little used, a fall in the birth-rate 
started earlier than in other countries. Probably the increasing 
postponement of marriages in the west is one of the causes. Eco- 
nomic factors may have some influence but even that is hardly 
an important consideration. It is well known that as a rule fertility 
is higher among the poor than among the rich, as it is also higher 
in rural areas than in urban. A smaller group can maintain higher 
standards, and the growth of individualism lessens the importance 
of the group and the race. Professor J. B. S. Haldane tells us that 
it is a general rule that in a great many civilized societies those 
types which are regarded in the particular society in question as 
admirable are less fertile than the general run of the population. 
Thus those societies would appear to be biologically unstable. Large 
families are often associated with inferior intelligence. Economic 
success is also supposed to be the opposite of biological success. 

* Frank W. Notestein in an article nn 'Population and Power in Post-War Europe' in the 
American, Foreign Affairs' for April, 1944. (The I.L.O. have issued a study on 'The Dis- 
placement of Population in Europe' by E. M. Kulischer 1943). 

553 



Little seems to be known about the basic causes behind the 
falling birth-rate, though many subsidiary ones are suggested. 
It is possible, however, that certain physiological and biological 
reasons lie at the back of it — the kind of life industrialized 
communities lead and the environment in which they live. A 
deficient diet, alcoholism, neurotic conditions or poor health 
generally, mental or physical, affect reproduction. And yet 
disease-ridden and insufficiently fed communities, as in India, 
still reproduce ihemselves at a prodigious rate. Perhaps the strain 
and stress of modern life, the ceaseless competition and worry, 
lessen fertility. Probably the divorce from the life-giving soil 
is an important factor. Even in America the fertility of farm 
labourers is considerably more than double that of the profes- 
sional classes. 

It would seem that the kind of modern civilization that deve- 
loped first in the west and spread elsewhere, and especially the 
metropolitan life that has been its chief feature, produces an 
unstable society which gradually loses its vitality. Life advances 
in many fields and yet it loses its grip; it becomes more artificial 
and slowly ebbs away. More and more stimulants are needed — 
drugs to enable us to sleep or to perform our other natural func- 
tions, foods and drinks that tickle the palate and produce a mo- 
mentary exhilaration at the .cost of weakening the system, and 
special devices to give us a temporary sensation of pleasure and 
excitement — and after the stimulation comes the reaction and a 
sense of emptiness. With all its splendid manifestations and real 
achievements, we have created a civilization which has some- 
thing counterfeit about it. We eat ersatz foods produced with 
the help of ersatz fertilizers; we indulge in ersatz emotions and 
our human relations seldom go below the superficial plane. The 
advertiser is one of the symbols of our age with his continuous 
and raucous attempts to delude us and dull our powers of per- 
ception and induce us to buy unnecessary and even harmful 
products. I am not blaming others for this state of affairs. We 
are all products of this age with the characteristics of our genera- 
tion, equally entitled to credit or blame. Certainly I am as much 
a part of this civilization, that I both appreciate and criticize, 
as any one else and my habits and ways of thought are conditioned 
by it. 

What is wrong with modern civilization which produces at 
the roots these signs of sterility and racial decadence? But this 
is nothing new, it has happened before and history is full of 
examples of it. Imperial Rome in its decline was far worse. Is 
there a cycle governing this inner decay and can we seek out the 
causes and eliminate them? Modern industrialism and the capi- 
talist structure of society cannot be the sole causes, for decadence 

554 



has often occurred without them. It is probable, however, that 
in their present forms they do create an environment, a physical 
and mental climate, which is favourable for the functioning of those 
causes. If the basic cause is something spiritual, something affect- 
ing the mind and spirit of man, it is difficult to grasp though we 
may try to understand it or intuitively feel it. But one fact seems 
to stand out: that a divorce from the soil, from the good earth, 
is bad for the individual and the race. 

The earth and the sun are the sources of life and if we keep away 
from them for long life begins to ebb away. Modern industria- 
lized communities have lost touch with the soil and do not experi- 
ence that joy which nature gives and the rich glow of health which 
comes from contact with mother earth. They talk of nature's 
beauty and go to seek it in occasional week-ends, littering the 
countryside with the product of their own artificial lives, but they 
cannot commune with nature or feel part of it. It is something to 
look at and admire, because they are told to do so, and then return 
with a sigh of relief to their normal haunts; just as they might try 
to admire some classic poet or writer and then, wearied by the 
attempt, return to their favourite novel or detective story, where 
no effort of mind is necessary. They are not children of nature, 
like the old Greeks or Indians, but strangers paying an embar- 
rassing call on a scarce-known distant relative. And so they do not 
experience that joy in nature's rich life and infinite variety and 
that feeling of being intensely alive which came so naturally to 
our forefathers. Is it surprising then that nature treats them as 
unwanted step-children? 

We cannot go back to that old pantheistic outlook and yet per- 
haps we may still sense the mystery of nature, listen to its song of 
life and beauty, and draw vitality from it. That song is not sung in 
the chosen spots only, and we can hear it, if we have the ears for 
it, almost everywhere. But there are some places where it charms 
even those who are unprepared for it and comes like the deep 
notes of a distant and powerful organ. Among these favoured 
spots is Kashmir where loveliness dwells and an enchantment steals 
over the senses. Writing about Kashmir, M. Foucher, the French 
savant, says: 'May I go further and say what I believe to be the 
true reason for this special charm of Kashmir, the charm which 
everybody seeks, even those who do not try to analyse it? It can- 
not be only because of its magnificent woods, the pure limpidity 
ofits lakes, the splendour of its snowy mountain tops, or the happy 
murmur of its myriad brooks sounding in the cool soft air. Nor 
can it be only the grace or majesty ofits ancient buildings, though 
the ruins of Martand rise at the prow of their Karewa as proudly 
as a Greek temple on a promontory, and the little shrine of Payar, 
carved out often stones, has the perfect proportions of the choragic 

555 



monuments of Lysicrates. One cannot even say that it comes of the 
combination of art and landscape, for fine buildings in a romantic 
setting are to be found in many other countries. But what is found 
in Kashmir alone is the grouping of these two kinds of beauty in 
the midst of a nature still animated with a mysterious life, which 
knows how to whisper close to our ears and make the pagan depths 
of us quiver, which leads us back, consciously or unconsciously, 
to those past days lamented by the poet, when the world was 
young, when 

le del sur la terre 
Marchait et respirait dans un peuple de dieux. * 

But my purpose is not to praise Kashmir, though my partiality 
for it occasionally leads me astray, nor to advance an argument 
in favour of pantheism, though I am pagan enough to believe 
that a touch of paganism is good for the mind and body. I do 
think that life cut off completely from the soil will ultimately 
wither away. Of course there is seldom such a complete cutting 
off and the processes of nature take their time. But it is a weak- 
ness of modern civilization that it is progressively going further 
away from the life-giving elements. The competitive and acqui- 
sitive characteristics of modern capitalist society, the enthrone- 
ment of wealth above everything else, the continuous strain and 
the lack of security for many, add to the ill-health of the mind 
and produce neurotic states. A saner and more balanced econo- 
mic structure would lead to an improvement of these conditions. 
Even so it will be necessary to have greater and more living 
contacts with the land and nature. This does not mean a return 
to the land in the old and limited sense of the word, or to a going 
back to primitive ways of life. That remedy might well be worse 
than the disease. It should be possible to organize modern industry 
in such a way as to keep men and women, as far as possible, in 
touch with the land, and to raise the cultural level of the rural areas. 
The village and the city should approach each other in regard to 
life's amenities, so that in both there should be full opportunities 
for bodily and mental development and a full all-rounded life. 

That this can be done I have little doubt, provided only that 
people want to do it. At present there is no such widespread 
desire and our energies are diverted (apart from killing each 
other) in producing ersatz products and ersatz amusements. I 
have no basic objection to most of these, and some I think are 
definitely desirable, but they absorb the time that might often be 
better employed and give a wrong perspective to life. Artificial 
fertilisers are in great demand to-day and I suppose they do good 

*'L'art greco-bouddhique du Gandhara.' 
556 



in their own way. But it does seem odd to me that in their enthu- 
siasm for the artificial product, people should forget natural 
manure and even waste it and throw it away. Only China, as 
a nation, has had the good sense to make full use of the natural 
stuff. Some experts say that artificial fertilisers, though producing 
quick results, weaken the soil by depriving it of some essential 
ingredients, and thus the land grows progressively more sterile. 
With the earth, as with our individual lives, there is far too much 
of burning the candle at both ends. We take her riches from her 
at a prodigious pace and give little or nothing back. 

We are proud of our increasing ability to produce almost 
anything in the chemical laboratory. From the age of steam, we 
proceeded to that of electricity and now we are in an age of 
biotechnics and electronics. The age of social science, which 
we hope will solve many of the intimate problems that trouble 
us so much, looms ahead. We are also told that we are on the 
threshold of the magnesium-aluminium age and as both these 
metals are extremely abundant and universally distributed, there 
can be no lack for any one. The new chemistry is building a 
new life for mankind. We seem to be on the verge of increasing 
enormously the power resources of humanity and all manner of 
epoch-making discoveries hover over the near future. 

All this is very comforting and yet a doubt creeps into my 
mind. It is not lack of power that we suffer from but a misuse of 
the power we possess or not a proper application of it. Science 
gives power but remains impersonal, purposeless, and almost 
unconcerned with our application of the knowledge it puts at our 
disposal. It may continue its triumphs and yet, if it ignores nature 
too much, nature may play a subtle revenge upon it. While life 
seems to grow in outward stature, it may ebb away inside for lack 
of something yet undiscovered by science. 

The Modern Approach to an Old Problem 

The modern mind, that is to say the better type of the modern 
mind, is practical and pragmatic, ethical and social, altruistic and 
humanitarian. It is governed by a practical idealism for social 
betterment. The ideals which move it represent the spirit of the 
age, the Zeitgist, the Yugadharma. It has discarded to a large 
extent the philosophic approach of the ancients, their search for 
ultimate reality, as well as the devotionalism and mysticism of 
the medieval period. Humanity is its god and social service its 
religion. This conception may be incomplete, as the mind of 
every age has been limited by its environment, and every age 
has considered some partial truth as the key to all truth. Every 
generation and every people suffer from the illusion that their 

557 



way of looking at things is the only right way, or is, at any rate, 
the nearest approach to it. Every culture has certain values 
attached to it, limited and conditioned by that culture. The people 
governed by that culture take these values for granted and attri- 
bute a permanent validity to them. So the values of our present- 
day culture may not be permanent and final; nevertheless they 
have an essential importance for us for they represent the thought 
and spirit of the age we live in. A few seers and geniuses, looking 
into the future, may have a completer vision of humanity and 
the universe; they are ofthe vital stuff out of which all real advance 
comes. The vast majority of people do not even catch up to the 
present-day values, though they may talk about them in the jar- 
gon of the day, and they live imprisoned in the past. 

We have therefore to function in line with the highest ideals 
ofthe age we live in, though we may add to them or seek to mould 
them in accordance with our national genius. Those ideals may 
be classed under two heads: humanism and the scientific spirit. 
Between these two there has been an apparent conflict but the 
great upheaval of thought to-day, with its questioning of all values, 
is removing the old boundaries between these two approaches, 
as well as between the external world of science and the internal 
world of introspection. There is a growing synthesis between 
humanism and the scientific spirit, resulting in a kind of scientific 
humanism. Science also, while holding on to fact, is on the verge 
of other domains, or at any rate, has ceased to deny them contemp- 
tuously. Our five senses and what they can perceive, obviously, 
do not exhaust the universe. During the past twenty-five years 
there has been a profound change in the scientist's picture of the 
physical world. Science used to look at nature as something almost 
apart from man. But now, Sir James Jeans tells us that the essence 
of science is that 'man no longer sees nature as something distinct 
from himself And then the old question arises which troubled 
the thinkers of the Upanishads: how can the knower be known? 
How can the eyes that can see external objects see themselves? 
And if the external is part and parcel of the internal, what we 
perceive or conceive is but a projection of our minds, and the 
universe and nature and the soul and mind and body, the trans- 
cendent and the immanent are all essentially one, how then are 
we, within the limited framework of our minds to understand 
this mighty scheme of things objectively? Science has begun to 
touch these problems and though they may elude it, still the 
earnest scientist of to-day is the prototype of the philosopher and 
the man of religion of earlier ages. 'In this materialistic age of 
ours,' says Professor Albert Einstein, 'the serious scientific workers 
are the only profoundly religious people.'* 

*Fiffy years ago, Vivekananda regarded modern science as a manifestation ofthe real 
religious spirit, for it sought to understand truth by sincere effort. 

558 



In all this there appears to be a firm belief in science and yet 
an apprehension that purely factual and purposeless science is 
not enough. Was science, in providing so much of life's furniture, 
ignoring life's significance? There is an attempt to find a har- 
mony between the world of fact and the world of spirit, for it was 
becoming increasingly obvious that the over-emphasis on the 
former was crushing the spirit of man. The question that troubled 
the philosophers of old has come up again in a different form 
and context: How to reconcile the phenomenal life of the world 
with the inner spiritual life of the individual. The physicians have 
discovered that it is not enough to treat the body of the individual 
or of society as a whole. In recent years, medical men, familiar 
with the finding of modern psycho-pathology, have abandoned 
the antithesis between 'organic' and 'functional' diseases, and 
lay greater stress on the psychological factor. 'This is the greatest 
error in the treatment of sickness,' wrote Plato, 'that there are 
physicians for the body and physicians for the soul, and yet the 
two are one and indivisible.' 

Einstein, most eminent among scientists, tells us that 'the fate 
of the human race was more than ever dependent on its moral 
strength to-day. The way to a joyful and happy state is through 
renunciation and self-limitation everywhere.' He takes us back 
suddenly from this proud age of science to the old philosophers, 
from the lust for power and the profit moti\% to the spirit of 
renunciation with which India has been so familiar. Probably 
most other scientists of to-day will not agree with him in this 
or when he says: 'I am absolutely convinced that no wealth in 
the world can help humanity forward, even in the hands of the 
most devoted worker in the cause. The example of great and 
pure characters is the only thing that can produce fine ideas of 
noble deeds. Money only appeals to selfishness and always tempts 
its owners irresistibly to abuse it.' 

In facing this question, that is as old as civilization itself, 
modern science has many advantages denied to the old philoso- 
phers. It possesses stores of accumulated knowledge and a method 
which has abundantly justified itself. It has mapped and char- 
tered many regions which were unknown to the ancients. As it 
has enlarged man's understanding and control over many things, 
they have ceased to be mysteries to be exploited by the priests of 
religion. But it has some disadvantages also. The very abundance 
of its accumulated knowledge has made it difficult for man to take 
a synthetic view of the whole, and he loses himself in some part of 
it, analyses it, studies it, partly understands it, and fails to see its 
connection with the whole. The vast forces science has released 
overwhelm him and carry him forward relentlessly, and often an 
unwilling victim, to unknown shores. The pace of modern life, 

559 



the succession of crisis after crisis, comes in the way of a dispas- 
sionate search for truth. Wisdom itself is hustled and pushed about 
and cannot easily discover that calm and detached out-look 
which is so necessary for true understanding. 'For still are the 
ways of wisdom and her temper trembleth not.' 

Perhaps we are living in one of the great ages of mankind and 
have to pay the price for that privilege. The great ages have 
been full of conflict and ihstability, of an attempt to change 
over from the old to something new. There is no permanent 
stability or security or changelessness; if there were life itself 
would cease. At the most we can seek a relative stability and a 
moving equilibrium. Life is a continuous struggle of man against 
man, of man against his surroundings, a struggle on the physical, 
intellectual, and moral plane out of which new things take 
shape and fresh ideas are born. Destruction and construction 
go side by side and both aspects of man and nature are ever 
evident. Life is a principle of growth, not of standing still, a 
continuous becoming, which does not permit static conditions. 

To-day, in the world of politics and economics there is a search 
for power and yet when power is attained much else of value has 
gone. Political trickery and intrigue take the place of idealism, 
and cowardice and selfishness the place of disinterested courage. 
Form prevails over substance, and power, so eagerly sought after, 
somehow fails tofcchieve what it aimed at. For power has its 
limitations, and force recoils on itself. Neither can control the 
spirit, though they may harden and coarsen it. 'You can rob an 
army of its general,' says Confucius, 'but not the least of men of 
his will.' 

John Stuart Mill wrote in his autobiography: 'I am now con- 
vinced that no great improvements in the lot of mankind are 
possible, until a great change takes place in the fundamental 
constitution of their modes of thought.' And yet that fundamen- 
tal change in the modes of thought itself comes from a changing 
environment and the pain and suffering that accompany life's 
unceasing struggles. And so, though we may try to change those 
modes of thought directly, it is even more necessary to change 
the environment in which they grew and found sustenance. Each 
depends on and influences the other. There is an endless variety 
of men's minds. Each one sees the truth in his own way and is 
often unable to appreciate another's viewpoint. Out of this comes 
conflict. Out of this interaction also a fuller and more integrated 
truth emerges. For we have to realize that truth is many-sided 
and is not the monopoly of any group or nation. So also the way 
of doing things. There may be different ways for different people 
in different situations. India and China, as well as other nations, 
evolved their own ways of life and gave them an enduring 

560 



foundation. They imagined, and many among them vainly 
imagine Still, that their way is the only way. To-day, Europe 
and America have evolved their own way of life, which is 
dominant in the world, and which, their people imagine, is the 
only way. But probably none of these ways is the one and only 
desirable way and each may learn something from the other. 
Certainly India and China must learn a great deal, for they had 
become static and the west not only represents the spirit of the 
age but is dynamic and changing and has the capacity for growth 
in it, even though this functions through self-destruction and 
periodical human sacrifice. 

In India, and perhaps in other countries also, there are alter- 
nating tendencies for self-glorification and self-pity. Both are 
undesirable and ignoble. It is not through sentimentality and 
emotional approaches that we can understand life, but by a 
frank and courageous facing of realities. We cannot lose oursel- 
ves in aimless and romantic quests unconnected with life's pro- 
blems, for destiny marches on and does not wait for our leisure. 
Nor can we concern ourselves with externals only, forgetting the 
significance of the inner life of man. There has to be a balance, 
an attempt at harmony between them. 'The greatest good,' wrote 
Spinoza in the seventeenth century, 'is the knowledge of the 
union which the mind has with the whole of nature. . . .The 
more the mind knows the better it understands its forces and the 
order of nature; the more it undrestands its forces or strength, the 
better it will be able to direct itself and lay down rules for itself; 
and the more it understands the order of nature the more easily 
it will be able to liberate itself from useless things; this is the whole 
method.' 

In our individual lives also we have to discover a balance 
between the body and the spirit, and between man as part of 
nature and man as part of society. 'For our perfection,' says 
Tagore, 'we have to be vitally savage and mentally civilized; 
we should have the gift to be natural with nature and human 
with human society.' Perfection is beyond us for it means the 
end, and we are always journeying, trying to approach some- 
thing that is ever receding. And in each one of us are many 
different human beings with their inconsistencies and contra- 
dictions, each pulling in a different direction. There is the love 
of life and the disgust with life, the acceptance of all that life 
involves and the rejection of much of it. It is difficult to harmo- 
nize these contrary tendencies, and sometimes one of them is 
dominant and sometimes another. 

'Oftentimes,' says Lao Tzu: 

Oftentimes, one strips oneself of passion 
In order to see the Secret of Life; 

561 



Oftentimes, one regards life with passion, 
In order to see its manifold results. 

For all our powers of reason and understanding and all our 
accumulated knowledge and experience, we know little enough 
about life's secrets, and can only guess at its mysterious processes. 
But we can always admire its beauty and, through art, exercise 
the god-like function of creation. Though we may be weak and 
erring mortals, living a brief and uncertain span of life, yet there 
is something of the stuff of the immortal gods in us. 'We must 
not,' therefore, says Aristotle, 'obey those who urge us, because 
we are human and mortal, to think human and mortal thoughts; 
in so far as we may we should practise immortality, and omit 
no effort to live in accordance with the best that is in us.' 

Epilogue 

Nearly five months have gone by since I took to this writing 
and I have covered a thousand hand-written pages with this 
jumble of ideas in my mind. For five months I have travelled in 
the past and peeped into the future and sometimes tried to 
balance myself on that 'point of intersection of the timeless with 
time.' These months have been full of happenings in the world 
and the war has advanced rapidly towards a triumphant con- 
clusion, so far as military victories go. In my own country also 
much has happened of which I could be only a distant spectator, 
and waves of unhappiness have sometimes temporarily swept 
over me and passed on. Because of this business of thinking and 
trying to give some expression to my thoughts, I have drawn 
myself away from the piercing edge of the present and moved 
along the wider expanses of the past and the future. 

But there must be an end to this wandering. If there was no 
other sufficient reason for it, there is a very practical considera- 
tion which cannot be ignored. I have almost exhausted the 
supply of paper that I had managed to secure after considerable 
difficulty and it is not easy to get more of it. 

The discovery of India — what have I discovered? It was pre- 
sumptuous of me to imagine that I could unveil her and find 
out what she is to-day and what she was in the long past. To-day 
she is four hundred million separate individual men and women, 
each differing from the other, each living in a private universe 
of though A and feeling. If this is so in the present, how much 
more difficult is it to grasp that multitudinous past of innumer- 
able successions of human beings. Yet something has bound 
them together and binds them still. India is a geographical and 
economic entity, a cultural unity amidst diversity, a bundle of 
contradictions held together by strong but invisible threads. 

562 



Overwhelmed again and again, her spirit was never conquered, 
and to-day when she appears to be the plaything of a proud 
conqueror, she remains unsubdued and unconquered. About her 
there is the elusive quality of a legend of long ago; some en- 
chantment seems to have held her mind. She is a myth and an 
idea, a dream and a vision, and yet very real and present and 
pervasive. There are terrifying glimpses of dark corridors which 
seem to lead back to primeval night, but also there is the full- 
ness and warmth of the day about her. Shameful and repellent 
she is occasionally, perverse and obstinate, sometimes even a 
little hysteric, this lady with a past. But she is very lovable, and 
none of her children can forget her wherever they go or what- 
ever strange fate befalls them. For she is part of them in her 
greatness as well as her failings, and they are mirrored in those 
deep eyes of hers that have seen so much of life's passion and 
joy and folly, and looked down into wisdom'-s well. Each one of 
them is drawn to her, though perhaps each has a different reason 
for that attraction or can point to no reason at all, and each 
sees some different aspect of her many-sided personality. From 
age to age she has produced great men and women, carrying on 
the old tradition and yet ever adapting it to changing times. 
Rabindranath Tagore, in line with that great succession, was 
full of the temper and urges of the modern age and yet was 
rooted in India's past, and in his own self built up a synthesis 
of the old and the new. 'I love India,' he said, 'not because I 
cultivate the idolatry of geography, not because I have had the 
chance to be born in her soil but because she has saved through 
tumultuous ages the living words that have issued from the illu- 
minated consciousness of her great ones.' So many will say, while 
others will explain their love for her in some different way. 

The old enchantment seems to be breaking to-day and she is 
looking around and waking up to the present. But however she 
changes, as change she must, that old witchery will continue and 
hold the hearts of her people. Though her attire may change, 
she will continue as of old, and her store of wisdom will help 
her to hold on to what is true and beautiful and good in this 
harsh, vindictive, and grasping world. 

The world of to-day has achieved much, but for all its declared 
love for humanity, it has based itself far more on hatred and 
violence than on the virtues that make man human. War is the 
negation of truth and humanity. War may be unavoidable some- 
times, but its progeny are terrible to contemplate. Not mere 
killing, for man must die, but the deliberate and persistent pro- 
pagation of hatred and falsehood, which gradually become the 
normal habits of the people. It is dangerous and harmful to be 
guided in our life's course by hatreds and aversions, for they 

563 



are wasteful of energy and limit and twist the mind and prevent 
it from perceiving the truth. Unhappily there is hatred to-day in 
India and strong aversions, for the past pursues us and the pre- 
sent does not differ from it. It is not easy to forget repeated 
affronts to the dignity of a proud race. Yet, fortunately, Indians 
do not nourish hatred for long; they recover easily a more bene- 
volent mood. 

India will find herself again when freedom opens out new 
horizons, and the future will then fascinate her far more than 
the immediate past of frustration and humiliation. She will go 
forward with confidence, rooted in herself and yet eager to learn 
from others and co-operate with them. To-day she swings 
between a blind adherence to her old customs and a slavish 
imitation of foreign ways. In neither of these can she find relief 
or life or growth. It is obvious that she has to come out of her 
shell and take full part in the life and activities of the modern 
age. It should be equally obvious- that there can be no real 
cultural or spiritual growth based on imitation. Such imitation 
can only be confined to a small number which cuts itself off 
from the masses and the springs of national life. True culture 
derives its inspiration from every corner of the world but it if 
home-grown and has to be based on the wide mass of the people. 
Art and literature remain lifeless if they are continually thinking 
of foreign models. The day of a narrow culture confined to a 
small fastidious group is past. We have to think in terms of the 
people generally, and their culture must be a continuation and 
development of past trends, and must also represent their new 
urges and creative tendencies. 

Emerson, over 100 years ago, warned his countrymen in America 
not to imitate or depend too much culturally on Europe. A new 
people as they were, he wanted them not to look back on their 
European past but to draw inspiration from the abounding life of 
their new country. 'Our day of dependence, our long apprenticeship 
to the learning of other lands, draws to a close. The millions that 
around us are rushing into life cannot always be fed on the sere 
remains of foreign harvests. Events, actions arise, that must be 
sung, that will sing themselves. . . there are creative manners, there 
are creative actions and creative words. ..that is, indicative of no 
custom or authority, but springing spontaneous from the mind's 
own sense of good and fair.' And again in his essay on self-reliance: 
'It is for want of self-culture that the superstition of travelling, 
whose idols are Italy, England, Egypt, retains its fascination for 
all educated Americans. They who made England, Italy, or Greece 
venerable in the imagination did so by sticking fast where they 
were, like an axis of the earth. In manly hours we feel that duty is 
our place. The soul is no traveller; the wise man stays at home, and 

564 



when his necessities, his duties, on any occasion call him from 
his house, or into foreign fields, he is at home still, and shall 
make men sensible by the expression of his countenance that he 
goes the missionary of wisdom and virtue, and visits cities and 
men like a sovereign and not like an interloper or a valet.' 

'I have no churlish objection,' continues Emerson, 'to the cir- 
cum-navigation of the globe, for the purposes of art, of study, 
and benevolence, so that man is first domesticated, or does not 
go abroad with the hope of finding something greater than he 
knows. He who travels to be amused, or to get somewhat which 
he does not carry, travels away from himself, and grows old even 
in youth among old things. In Thebes, in Palmyra, his will and 
mind have become old and dilapidated as they. He carries ruins 
to ruins. 

'But the rage for travelling is a symptom of a deeper unsound- 
ness affecting the whole intellectual action We imitate 

Our houses are built with foreign taste; our shelves are garnished 
with foreign ornaments; our opinions, our tastes, our faculties, 
lean on and follow the past and the distant. The soul created 
the arts wherever they have flourished. It was in his own mind 
that the artist sought his model. It was an application of his 
own thought to the thing to be done and the conditions to be 

observed Insist on yourself; never imitate. Your own gift you 

can present every moment with the cumulative force of a whole 
life's cultivation; but of the adopted talent of another you have 
only an extemporaneous half possession.' 

We in India do not have to go abroad in search of the past 
and the distant. We have them here in abundance. If we go to 
foreign countries it is in search of the present. That search is 
necessary, for isolation from it means backwardness and decay. 
The world of Emerson's time has changed and old barriers are 
breaking down; life becomes more international. We have to 
play our part in this coming internationalism and, for this pur- 
pose, to travel, meet others, learn from them and understand 
them. But a real internationalism is not something in the air 
without roots or anchorage. It has to grow out of national 
cultures and can only flourish to-day on a basis of freedom and 
equality and true internationalism. Nevertheless Emerson's warn- 
ing holds to-day as it did in the past, and our search can only 
be fruitful in the conditions mentioned by him. Not to go any- 
where as interlopers, but only if we are welcomed as equals and 
as comrades in a common quest. There are countries, notably in 
the British dominions, which try to humiliate our countrymen. 
They are not for us. We may, for the present, have to suffer the 
enforced subjection to an alien yoke and to carry the grievous 
burdens that this involves, but the day of our liberation cannot 

565 



be distant. We are citizens of no mean country and we are proud 
of the land of our birth, of our people, our culture and tradi- 
tions. That pride should not be for a romanticised past to which 
we want to cling; nor should it encourage exclusiveness or a 
want of appreciation of other ways than ours. It must never allow 
us to forget our many weaknesses and failings or blunt our long- 
ing to be rid of them. We have a long way to go and much lee- 
way to make up before we can take our proper station with 
others in the van of human civilization and progress. And we 
have to hurry, for the time at our disposal is limited and the 
pace of the world grows ever swifter. It was India's way in the 
past to welcome and absorb other cultures. That is much more 
necessary to-day, for we march to the one world of to-morrow 
where national cultures will be intermingled with the inter- 
national culture of the human race. We shall therefore seek 
wisdom and knowledge and friendship and comradeship wher- 
ever we can find them, and co-operate with others in common 
tasks, but we are no suppliants for others' favours and patronage. 
Thus we shall remain true Indians and Asiatics, and become at 
the same time good internationalists and world citizens. 

My generation has been a troubled one in India and the world. 
We may carry on for a little while longer, but our day will be 
over and we shall give place to others, and they will live their 
lives arid carry their burdens to the next stage of the journey. 
How have we played our part in this brief interlude that draws 
to a close? I do not know. Others of a later age will judge. By 
what standards do we measure success or failure? That too I do 
not know. We can make no complaint that life has treated us 
harshly, for ours has been a willing choice, and perhaps life has 
not been so bad to us after all. For only they can sense life who 
stand often on the verge of it, only they whose lives are not 
governed by the fear of death. In spite of all the mistakes that 
we may have made, we have saved ourselves from triviality and 
an inner shame and cowardice. That, for our individual selves, 
has been some achievement. 'Man's dearest possession is life, and 
since it is given to him to live but once, he must so live as not 
to be seared with the shame of a cowardly and trivial past, so 
live as not to be tortured for years without purpose, so live that 
dying he can say: "All my life and my strength were given to 
the first cause of the world — the liberation of mankind." '* 



*J.'icoli Ostrovsky. 
5 66 



POSTSCRIPT 
Allahabad 29th December 1945 



DURING MARCH AND APRIL, 1945, THE MEMBERS OF THE CONGRESS 

Working Committee, interned in Ahmadnagar Fort prison camp, 
were dispersed and sent to their respective provinces. The camp 
jail was wound up and presumably reverted to the military 
authorities. Three of us — Govind Ballabh Pant, Narendra Deva, 
and I — left Ahmadnagar Fort on March 28th and were brought 
to Naini Central Prison where we met a number of our old 
colleagues, among whom was Rafi Ahmad Kidwai. For the first 
time since our arrest in August, 1942, we had an opportunity 
of having first-hand accounts of some of the occurrences of 1942, 
for many of those in Naini Prison had been arrested some time 
after us A From Naini we three were taken to Izatnagar Central 
-ftwwr; near Bareilly. Govind Ballabh Pant was released on 
account of ill-health. Narendra Deva and I lived together in a 
barrack in this prison for over two months. Early in June we 
were transferred to the mountain prison of Almora, which I had 
known so intimately ten years earlier. On June 15th we were 
both discharged, 1,041 days after our arrest in August, 1942. 
Thus ended my ninth and longest term of imprisonment. 

Since then six months and a half have passed. I came from the 
long seclusion of prison to crowds, intense activity and conti- 
nuous travelling. I spent only a night at home and then hurried 
to Bombay for a meeting of the Congress Working Committee. 
And then to the Simla Conference convened by the Viceroy. I 
found it a little difficult to adjust myself to the new and chang- 
ing environment and could not easily fit in. Though everything 
was familiar and it was good to meet old friends and colleagues, 
I felt somewhat as a stranger and an outsider, and my mind wan- 
dered to mountains and snow-covered peaks. As soon as the 
Simla business was over I hurried to Kashmir. I did not stay 
in the valley, but almost immediately started on a trek to the 
higher regions and passes. For a month I was in Kashmir and 
then I came back to the crowds and the excitements and bore- 
doms of everyday life. 

Gradually some picture of the past three years formed itself 
in my mind. I found, as others did, that what had taken place 

567 



was far more than we had imagined. These three years had been 
a time of heavy travail for our people and each person we met 
bore the mark of it on his face. India had changed and under 
the seeming quiet of the surface there was doubt and question- 
ing, frustration and anger, and a suppressed passion. With our 
release and the turn events took, a change came over the scene. 
The smooth surface was ruffled and cracks appeared. Waves of 
exitemqnt passed across the country; after three years of sup- 
pression, the people broke through that shell. I had not pre- 
viously seen such crowds, such "frenzied excitement, such a 
passionate desire on the part of masses of people to free them- 
selves. Young men and women, boys and girls, were afire with 
the urge to do something, though what they should do was not 
clear to them. 

The War ended and the atom bomb became the symbol of 
the new age. The use of this bomb and the tortuous ways of 
power politics brought further disillusion. The old imperialisms 
still functioned, and events in Indonesia and Indo-China added 
to the horror of the scene. The use of Indian troops in both 
these countries against people struggling to be free brought 
shame to us at our helplessness and an abiding anger and bitter- 
ness. The temper of the country continued to rise. 

The story of the Indian National Army, formed in Burma 
and Malaya during war years, spread suddenly throughout the 
country and evoked an astonishing enthusiasm. The trial by 
court martial of some of its officers aroused the country as nothing 
else had done, and they became the symbols of India fighting 
for her freedom. They became also the symbol of unity among 
the various religious groups in India, for Hindu and Moslem and 
Sikh and Christian were all represented in that army. They had 
solved the communal problem amongst themselves, and so why 
should we not do so? 

We are on the eve of general elections in India and these 
elections absorb attention. But the elections will be over soon — 
and then? The coming year is likely to be one of storm and 
trouble, of conflict and turmoil. There is going to be no peace 
in India or elsewhere except on the basis of freedom.