Saturday 23 February 2013

Day .41- JAWAHARLAL NEHRU - The Discovery of India (Continued)



CHAPTER NINE
THE LAST PHASE (3) World War II The Congress Develops a Foreign Policy
THE NATIONAL CONGRESS, LIKE ALL OTHER POLITICAL ORGANIZATIONS in India, was for long entirely engrossed in internal politics and paid little attention to foreign developments. In the nineteen-twenties it began to take some interest in foreign affairs. No other organization did so except the small groups of socialists and communists. Moslem organizations were interested in Palestine and occasionally passed resolutions of sympathy for the Moslem Arabs there. The intense nationalism of Turkey, Egypt, and Iran was watched by them but not without some apprehension, as it was secular, and was leading to reforms which were not wholly in keeping with their ideas of Islamic traditions. The Congress gradually developed a foreign policy which was based on the elimination of political and economic imperialism everywhere and the co-operation of free nations. This fitted in with the demand for Indian independence. As early as 1920 a resolution on foreign policy was passed by the Congress, in which our desire to co-operate with other nations and especially to develop friendly relations with all our neighboring countries was emphasized. The possibility of another large-scale war was later considered, and in 1927, twelve years before World War II actually started, the Congress first declared its policy in regard to it.
This was five or six years before Hitler came into power and before Japanese aggression in Manchuria had begun. Mussolini was consolidating himself in Italy but did not then appear as a major threat to world peace. Fascist Italy was on friendly terms with England and British statesmen expressed their admiration for the Duce. There were a number of petty dictators in Europe, also usually on good terms with the British Government. Between England and Soviet Russia, however, there was a complete breach; there had been the Arcos raid and withdrawal of diplo-matic representatives. In the League of Nations and the Inter-national Labour Office British and French policy was definitely conservative. In the interminable discussions on disarmament, when every other country represented in the League, as well as the U.S.A., were in favour of the total abolition of aerial bombard-ment, Britain made some vital reservations. For many years the British Government had used aircraft, for 'police purposes' it was called, for bombing towns and villages in Iraq and the North-West Frontier of India. This 'right' was insisted upon, thus preventing any general agreement on this subject in the League and later in the Disarmament Conference.
Germany—the Weimar republican Germany—had become a full member of the League of Nations, and Locarno had been hailed as a forerunner of perpetual peace in Europe and a triumph of British policy. Another view of all these developments was that Soviet Russia was being isolated and a joint front against her was being created in Europe. Russia had just celebrated the tenth anniversary of her revolution and had developed friendly ties with various eastern countries—Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, and Mongolia.
The Chinese revolution had also advanced with great strides and the nationalist armies had taken possession of half of China, coming into conflict with foreign, and especially British, interests in the port towns and the interior. Subsequently there had been internal trouble and a break-up of the Kuomintang into rival groups.
The world situation seemed to be drifting towards a major conflict with England and France as heads of a European group of nations, and Soviet Russia associated with some eastern nations. The United States of America held aloof from both these groups; their intense dislike of communism kept them away from Russia, and their distrust of British policy and competition with British finance and industry, preventing them from associating them-selves with the British group. Over and above these considerations was the isolationist sentiment of America and the fear of being embroiled in European quarrels.

In this setting Indian opinion inevitably sided with Soviet Russia and the eastern nations. This did not mean any wide-spread approval of communism, though a growing number were attracted to socialist thought. The triumphs of the Chinese revolution were hailed with enthusiasm as portents of the approach-ing freedom of India and of the elimination of European aggression in Asia. We developed an interest in nationalist movements in the Dutch East Indies and Indo-China, as well as the western Asiatic countries and Egypt. The conversion of Singapore into a great naval base and the development of Trincomalee harbour in Ceylon appeared as parts of the general preparations for the coming war, in which Britain would try to consolidate and strengthen her imperialist position and crush Soviet Russia and the rising nationalist movements of the east.
It was with this background that the National Congress began to develop its foreign policy in 1927. It declared that India could be no party to an imperialist war, and in no event should India be made to join any war without the consent of her people being obtained. In the years that followed, this declaration was frequently repeated and widespread propaganda was carried on in accord-ance with it. It became one of the foundations of Congress policy and, it was generally accepted, of Indian policy. No individual or organization in India opposed it.
Meanwhile changes were taking place in Europe, and Hitler and nazism had risen. The Congress immediately reacted against these changes and denounced them, for Hitler and his creed seemed the very embodiment and intensification of the imperialism and racialism against which the Congress was struggling. Japanese aggression in Manchuria produced even stronger reactions because of sympathy for China. Abyssinia, Spain, the Sino-Japanese war, Czechoslovakia, and Munich, added to this strength of feeling and the tension of approaching war.
But this coming war was likely to be different from the one that had been envisaged before Hitler had arisen. Even so, British policy had been almost continuously pro-fascist and pro-nazi and it was difficult to believe that it would suddenly change overnight and champion freedom and democracy. Its dominant imperialist outlook and desire to hold on to its empire would continue despite other developments; also its basic opposition to Russia and what Russia represented. But it became increasingly obvious that in spite of every desire to appease Hitler he was becoming a dominating power in Europe, entirely upsetting the old balance and menacing the vital interests of the British Empire. War between Eng-land and Germany became probable, and if this broke out what then would our policy be? How would we reconcile the two dominating trends of our policy: Opposition to British imperialism and opposition to fascism and nazism? How would we bring in line our nationalism and our internationalism? It was a difficult question in the existing circumstances, difficult for us, but offering no difficulty if the British Government took a step to demonstrate to us that they had given up their imperialist policy in India and wanted to rely on popular goodwill.
In a contest between nationalism and internationalism, nationalism was bound to win. That had happened in every country and in every crisis; in a country under foreign domination, with bitter memories of continuous struggle and suffering, that was an inevitable and unavoidable consequence, England and France had played false to republican Spain and betrayed Czechoslovakia, and thus sacrificed internationalism for what they considered, wrongly as events proved, their national interests. The United States of America had clung to isolationism, in spite of their evident sympathy with England, France, and China, and their hatred of nazism and Japanese militarism and aggression. It was Pearl Harbour that flung them headlong into war. Soviet Russia, the very emblem of internationalism, had followed a strictly national policy, bringing confusion to many of her friends and sympathizers. It was the sudden and un-announced attack by the German armies that brought war to the U.S.S.R. The Scandinavian countries and Holland and Belgium tried to avoid war and entanglement in the vain hope of saving themselves, and yet were overwhelmed by it. Turkey has sat precariously for five years on the thin edge of a varying neutrality, governed solely by national considerations. Egypt, still a semi-colonial country in spite of its apparent independence, itself one of the major battle areas, occupies a curious and anomalous position. For all practical purposes it is a belligerent country completely under the control of the armed forces of the United Nations, and yet apparently it is not a belligerent.
There may be justification or excuse for all these policies adopted by various governments and countries. A democracy cannot easily jump into war without preparing its people and gaining their co-operation. Even an authoritarian state has to prepare the ground. But whatever the reason or justification may be, it is clear that whenever a crisis has occurred, national considerations, or what were considered to be such, have been paramount and all others, which did not fit in with them, have been swept away. It was extraordinary how, during the Munich crises, the hundreds of international organizations, anti-fascist leagues, etc., in Europe were struck dumb and became powerless and ineffective. Individuals and small groups may become inter-nationally minded and may even be prepared to sacrifice personal and immediate national interests for a larger cause, but not so nations. It is only when international interests are believed to be in line with national interests that they arouse enthusiasm.
A few months ago the London Economist, discussing British foreign policy, wrote: 'The only foreign policy that has any hope of being consistently pursued is one in which national interests are fully and obviously safeguarded. No nation puts the interests of the international community before its own. It is only if the two can be seen to coincide that there is any possibility of effective internationalism.'
Internationalism can indeed only develop in a free country, for all the thought and energy of a subject country are directed towards the achievement of its own freedom. That subject con-dition is like a cancerous growth inside the body, which not only prevents any limb from becoming healthy but is a constant irritant to the mind and colours all thought and action. Conflict is inherent in it and such conflict leads to a concentration of thought on it and prevents a consideration of wider issues. The history of a long succession of past conflicts and suffering be-comes the inseparable companion of both the individual and the national mind. It becomes an obsession, a dominating passion, which cannot be exorcised except by removing its root cause. And even then, when the sense of subjection has gone, the cure is slow, for the injuries of the mind take longer to heal than those of the body.
All this background we have long had in India, and yet Gandhi gave a turn to our nationalist movement which lessened the feelings of frustration and bitterness. Those feelings continued but I do not know of any other nationalist movement which has been so free from hatred. Gandhi was an intense nationalist; he was also, at the same time, a man who felt he had a message not only for India but for the world, and he ardently desired world peace. His nationalism, therefore, had a certain world outlook and was entirely free from any aggressive intent. Desiring the independence of India, he had come to believe that a world federation of interde-pendent states was the only right goal, however distant that might be. He had said: 'My idea of nationalism is that my country may become free, that if need be the whole of the country may die, so that the human race may live. There is no room for race hatred here. Let that be our nationalism.' And again: 'I do want to think in terms of the whole world. My patriotism includes the good of mankind in general. Therefore, my service of India includes the services of humanity.... Isolated independence is not the goal of the world states. It is voluntary interdependence. The better mind of the world desires to-day not absolutely independent states, warring one against another, but a federation of friendly, inter-dependent states. The consummation of that event may be far off. I want to make no grand claims for our country. But I see nothing grand or impossible about our expressing our readiness for universal inter-dependence rather than independence. I desire the ability to be totally independent without asserting the independence.'
As the nationalist movement grew in strength and self-confidence, many people began to think in terms of a free India: what she would be like, what she would do, and what her relations with other countries would be. The very bigness and potential strength and resources of the country made them think in big terms. India could not be a mere hanger-on of any country or group of nations; her freedom and growth would make a vital difference to Asia and therefore to the world. That led inevitably to the conception of full independence and a severance of the bonds that tied her to England and her empire. Dominion status, even when that status approached independence, seemed an absurd limitation and a hindrance to full growth. The idea behind dominion status, of a mother country closely connected with her daughter nations, all of them having a common cultural back-ground, seemed totally inapplicable to India. It meant certainly a wider sphere of international co-operation, which was desirable, but it also meant at the same time lesser co-operation with countries outside that empire or commonwealth group. It thus became a limiting factor, and our ideas, full of the promise of the future, overstepped these boundaries and looked to a wider co-operation. In particular, we thought of close relations with our neighbor countries in the east and west, with China, Afghanistan, Iran, and the Soviet Union. Even with distant America we wanted closer relations, for we could learn much from the United States as also from the Soviet Union. There was a feeling that we had exhausted our capacity for learning anything more from England, and in any event we could only profit by contact with each other after breaking the unhealthy bond that tied us and by meeting on equal terms.
The racial discrimination and treatment of Indians in some of the British dominions and colonies were powerful factors in our determination to break from that group. In particular, South Africa was a constant irritant, and East Africa and Kenya, directly under the British colonial policy. Curiously enough we got on well, as individuals, with Canadians, Australians, and New Zealanders, for they represent a new tradition and were free from many of the prejudices and the social conservatism of the British.
When we talked of the independence of India it was not in terms of isolation. We realized, perhaps more than many other countries, that the old type of complete national independence was doomed, and there must be a new era of world co-operation. We made it repeatedly clear, therefore, that we were perfectly agreeable to limit that independence, in common with other nations, within some international framework. That framework should preferably cover the world or as large a part of it as possible, or be regional. The British Commonwealth did not fit in with either of these conceptions, though it could be a part of the larger framework It is surprising how internationally minded we grew in spite of our intense nationalism. No other nationalist movement of a subject country came anywhere near this, and the general ten-dency in such other countries was to keep clear of international commitments. In India also there were those who objected to our lining up with republican Spain and China, Abyssinia and Czechoslovakia. Why antagonize powerful nations like Italy, Germany, and Japan, they said; every enemy of Britain should be treated as a friend; idealism has no place in politics, which concerns itself with power and the opportune use of it. But these objectors were overwhelmed by the mass sentiment the Congress had created and hardly ever gave public expression to their views. The Moslem League remained throughout discreetly silent and never committed itself on any such international issue.
In 1938 the Congress sent a medical unit consisting of a number of doctors and necessary equipment and material to China. For several years this unit did good work there. When this was organized, Subhash Bose was president of the Congress. He did not approve of any step being taken by the Congress which was anti-Japanese or anti-German or anti-Italian. And yet such was the feeling in the Congress and the country that he did not oppose this or many other manifestations of Congress sympathy with China and the victims of fascist and nazi aggression. We passed many resolutions and organized many demonstrations of which he did not approve during the period of his presidentship, but he submitted to them without protest because he realized the strength of feeling behind them. There was a big difference in outlook between him and others in the Congress Executive, both in regard to foreign and internal matters, and this led to a break early in 1939. He then attacked Congress policy publicly and, early in August, 1939. the Congress Executive took the very unusual step of taking disciplinary action against him, one of its ex-presidents.

The Congress Approach to War
Thus the Congress laid down and frequently repeated a dual policy in regard to war. There was, on the one hand, opposition to fascism, nazism, and Japanese militarism, both because of their internal policies and their aggression against other countries; there was intense sympathy with the victims of that aggression; and there was a willingness to join up in any war or other attempt to stop this aggression. On the other hand, there was an emphasis on the freedom of India, not only because that was our fundamental objective for which we had continuously laboured, but also especially in relation to a possible war. For we reiterated that only a free India could take proper part in such a war; only through freedom could we overcome the bitter heritage of our past relations with Britain and arouse enthusiasm and mobilize our great resources. Without that freedom the war would be like any old war, a contest between rival imperialism, and an attempt to defend and perpetuate the British Empire as such. It seemed absurd and impossible for us to line up in defence of that very imperialism against which we had been struggling for so long. And even if a few of us, in view of larger considerations, considered that a lesser evil, it was utterly beyond our capacity to carry our people. Only freedom could release mass energy and convert bitterness into enthusiasm for a cause. There was no other way.
The Congress specially demanded that India should not be committed to any war without the consent of her people or their representatives, and that no Indian troops be sent for service abroad without such consent. The Central Legislative Assembly, consisting of various groups and parties, had also put forward this latter claim. It had long been a grievance of the Indian people that our armed forces were sent abroad for imperialist purposes and often to conquer or suppress other peoples with whom we had no quarrel whatever, and with whose efforts to regain their freedom we sympathized. Indian troops had been used as mercenaries for this purpose in Burma, China, Iran, and the Middle East, and parts of Africa. They have become symbols of British imperialism in all these countries and antagonized their peoples against India. I remember the bitter re-mark of an Egyptian: 'You have not only lost your own freedom but you help the British to enslave others.'
The two parts of this dual policy did not automatically fit into each other; there was an element of mutual contradiction in them. But that contradiction was not of our creation; it was inherent in the circumstances and was inevitably mirrored in any policy that arose from those circumstances. Repeatedly we pointed out the inconsistency of condemning fascism and nazism and maintaining imperialist domination. It was true that the former were indulging in horrid crimes whilst imperialism in India and elsewhere had stabilized itself. The difference was one of degree and of time, not of kind. The format also were far away, some thing which we read about; the latter was always at our doorstep, surrounding all of us and pervading the entire atmosphere. We emphasized the absurdity of holding aloft the banner of demo-cracy elsewhere and denying it to us in India.
Whatever inconsistency there might have been in our dual policy, no question of the doctrine of non-violence coming in the way of armed conflict for defence or against aggression arose.

I was in England and on the continent of Europe in the sum-mer of 1938 and in speech, writing, and private conversation I explained this policy of ours, and pointed out the dangers of allowing matters to drift or to remain as they were. At the height of the Sudetenland crisis, anxious Czechs asked me what India was likely to do in case of war. Danger was too near and terrible for them to consider fine points and old grievances, nevertheless they appreciated what I said and agreed with the logic of it.
About the middle of 1939 it became known that Indian troops had been despatched overseas, probably to Singapore and the Middle East. Immediately there was an outcry at this having been done without any reference to the representatives of the people. It was recognized that troop movements during a period of crisis have often to be secret. Still there were many ways of taking representative leaders into confidence. There were the party leaders in the Central Assembly, and in every province there were popularly elected governments. In the normal course the Central Government had to consult and share confidence in many matters with these provincial ministers. But not even formal or nominal respect was shown to the people's representatives and the declared wishes of the nation. Steps were also being taken, through the British Parliament, to amend the Government of India Act of 1935 under which the provincial governments were functioning, with a view to concentrating all power, in the event of a war emergency, in the Central Government. Normally, in a democratic country, this might have been a natural and reasonable step, if taken with the consent of the parties concerned. It is well known that federating states, provinces, or autonomous units in a federation are very jealous of their rights and do not easily agree to give them up to a central administration even in a period of crisis and emergency. This tug-of-war is continuous in the U.S.A. and, as I write this, a referendum in Australia has rejected the proposal to add to the powers of the Commonwealth Government at the expense of the states even for the purposes and duration of the war. And yet both in the U.S.A. and Australia the Central Government and legislature are popularly elected and consist of representatives of those very states. In India the Central Government was, and is, wholly irresponsible and authoritarian, not elected and not in any way responsible to the people generally or to the provinces. It functioned completely as an agent of the British Government. To add to its power at the expense of the provincial governments and legislatures meant weakening still further these popular provincial governments and striking at the very basis of provincial autonomy. This was deeply resented. It was felt that this was contrary to the assurances under which Congress governments had been formed, and indicated that, as previously, war would be imposed upon India without any reference to her chosen representatives.
The Congress Executive expressed its strong dissent with this policy which it considered a deliberate flouting of the declara-tions both of the Congress and the Central Legislature. It declared that it must resist any imposition of this kind and could not agree to India being committed to far-reaching policies without the consent of her people. Again it stated (early in August 1939) that 'In this world crisis the sympathies of the Working Committee are entirely with the people who stand for democracy and freedom and the Congress has repeatedly condemned fascist aggression in Europe, Africa, and the far east of Asia, as well as the betrayal of democracy by British imperialism in Czechoslovakia and Spain.' But, it was added, 'The past policy of the British Government as well as recent developments, demonstrated abundantly that this government does not stand for freedom and democracy and may at any time betray these ideals. India cannot associate herself with such a government or be asked to give her resources for democratic freedom which is denied to her and which is likely to be betrayed.' As a first step in protest against this policy, the Congress members of the Central Legislative Assembly were asked to refrain from attending the next session of the Assembly.
This last resolution was passed three weeks before war actually broke out in Europe. It seemed that the Government of India, and the British Government behind it, were bent on ignoring completely Indian opinion, not only in regard to the major issues raised by the war crisis, but also on many minor matters. This policy was reflected in the attitudes of the Governors in the provinces and the civil service administration which became more non-co-operative with the Congress governments. The position of these Congress provincial governments was becoming increasingly difficult, and strong sections of public opinion were excited and apprehensive. They feared that the British Government would act as it had done a quarter of a century earlier in 1914, impose the war on India, ignoring the provincial governments and public opinion and everything that had happened during this period, and make the war a cloak for suppressing such limited freedom as India had obtained and exploiting her resources without check.
But much had happened during this quarter of a century and the mood of the people was very different. The idea of a great country like India being treated as a chattel and her people utterly and contemptuously ignored was bitterly resented. Was all the struggle and suffering of the past twenty years to count for nothing? Were the Indian people to shame the land from which they sprang by quietly submitting to this disgrace and humiliation? Many of them had learnt to resist what they considered evil, and not to submit when such submission was considered shameful. They had willingly accepted the consequences of such non-submission.
Then there were others, a younger generation, which had little personal experience of the nationalist struggle and what it had involved, and for whom even the civil disobedience movements of the twenties and early thirties were past history and nothing more. They had not been tested in the fire of experience and suffering and took many things for granted. They were critical of the older generation, considering it weak and compromising, and imagined that strong language was good substitute for action. They quarreled amongst themselves over questions of personal leadership or fine points of political or economic doctrine. They discussed world affairs without knowing much about them; they were immature and lacked ballast. There was good material in them, much enthusiasm for good causes, but somehow the general effect produced by them was disappointing and discouraging. Perhaps it was a temporary phase, which they would outgrow, which they may have outgrown already after the bitter experiences which they have since had.
Whatever the other differences, all these groups within the nationalist ranks reacted in similar fashion to British policy towards India during the crisis. They were angered by it and called upon Congress to resist it. A proud and sensitive nationalism did not want to submit to this humiliation. All other considerations became secondary.
War was declared in Europe and immediately the Viceroy of India announced that India was also at war. One man, and he a foreigner and a representative of a hated system, could plunge four hundred millions of human beings into war without the slightest reference to them. There was something fundamentally wrong and rotten in a system under which the fate of these millions could be decided in this way. In the dominions the decision was taken by popular representatives after full debate and consideration of various points of view. Not so in India, and it hurt.
Reaction to War
I was in Chungking when the war began in Europe. The Congress President cabled me to return immediately, and I hurried back. A meeting of the Congress Executive was being held when I arrived, and to this meeting Mr. M. A. Jinnah was also invited, but he expressed his inability to come. The Viceroy had not only committed India formally to the war but had issued a number of ordinances; the British Parliament had also passed the Government of India Amending Act. All these enactments circumscribed and limited the powers and activities of the provincial governments and were resented, especially as no effort had been made to consult the people's representatives. Indeed, their oft-repeated wishes and declarations had been completely ignored.

On September 14th, 1939, after long deliberation, the Congress Working Committee issued a lengthy statement on the war crisis. The steps the Victory had taken and the new enactments and decrees were referred to and it was stated that 'the Working Committee must take the gravest view of these developments.' Fascism and nazism were condemned, and particularly 'the latest aggression of the nazi government in Germany against Poland,' and sympathy was expressed for those who resisted it.
While co-operation was offered it was added that 'any imposed decision.. . will necessarily have to be opposed by them. If co operation is desired in a worthy cause, this cannot be obtained by compulsion and imposition, and the Committee cannot agree to the carrying out by the Indian people of orders issued by external authority. Co-operation must be between equals by mutual consent for a cause which both consider to be worthy. The people of India have, in the recent past, faced grave risks and willingly made great sacrifices to secure their own freedom and establish a free democratic state in India, and their sympathy is entirely on the side of democracy and freedom. But India cannot associate herself in a war said to be for democratic freedom when that very freedom is denied to her, and such limited freedom as she possesses taken away from her.
'The Committee are aware that the Governments of Great Britain and France have declared that they are fighting for democracy and freedom and to put an end to aggression. But the history of the recent past is full of examples showing the constant divergence between the spoken word, the ideals pro-claimed, and the real motives and objectives.' Certain past events, during and after World War I, were referred to and then: 'Subsequent history has demonstrated afresh how even a seemingly fervent declaration of faith may be followed by an ignoble desertion. . . .Again it is asserted that democracy is in danger and must be defended, and with this statement the Committee are in entire agreement. The Committee believe that the peoples of the west are moved by this ideal and objective, and for these they are prepared to make sacrifices; but again and again the ideals and sentiments of the people and of those who have sacrificed them-selves in the struggle have been ignored and faith has not been kept with them.
'If the war is to defend the status quo, imperialist possessions, colonies, vested interests, and privilege, then India can have nothing to do with it. If, however, the issue is democracy and a world order based on democracy, then India is intensely interested in it. The Committee are convinced that the interests of Indian democracy do not conflict with the interests of British democracy or of world democracy; but there is an inherent and ineradicable conflict between democracy for India and elsewhere and imperialism and fascism. If Great Britain fights for the maintenance and extension of democracy, tnen she must necessarily end imperialism in her own possessions... .A free democratic India will gladly associate herself with other free nations for mutual defence against aggression and for economic cooperation. She will work for the establishment of a real world order based on freedom and democracy, utilising the world's knowledge and resources for the progress and advancement of humanity.'
The Congress Executive, nationalist as it was, took an inter-national view and considered the war as something much more than a conflict of armed forces. 'The crisis that has overtaken Europe is not of Europe only but of humanity, and will not pass like other crises or wars, leaving the essential structure of the present-day world intact. It is likely to re-fashion the world for good or ill, politically, socially, and economically. This crisis is the inevitable consequence of the social and political conflicts and contradictions which have grown alarmingly since the last Great War, and it will not be finally resolved till these conflicts and contradictions are removed and a new equilibrium established. That equilibrium can only be based on the ending of the domination and exploitation of one country by another, and on a reorganization of economic relations on a more just basis for the common good of all. India is the crux of the problem, for India has been the outstanding example of modern imperialism, and no re-fashioning of the world can succeed which ignores this vital problem. With her vast resources she must play an important part in any scheme of world reorganization; but she can only do so as a free nation whose energies have been released to work for this great end. Freedom to-day is indivisible, and every attempt to retain imperialist domination in any part of the world will lead inevitably to fresh disaster.'
The Committee proceeded to refer to the offers of Rulers of Indian states to support the cause of democracy in Europe, and suggested that it would be fitting if they introduced democracy within their own states, where undiluted autocracy prevailed.
The Committee again stated their eagerness to help in every way but expressed their apprehension at the trend of British policy both in the past and present in which they failed 'to find any attempt to advance the cause of democracy or self-determination or any evidence that the present war declarations of the British Government are being, or are going to be, acted upon.' They added, however, that in view 'of the gravity of the occasion and the fact that the pace of events during the last few days has often been swifter than the working of men's minds, the Committee desire to take no final decision at this stage, so as to allow for full elucidation of the issues at stake, the real objectives aimed at, and the position of India in the present and in the future.' They invited therefore 'the British Government to declare in unequivocal terms what their war aims are in regard to democracy and imperialism and the new order that is envisaged, in particular, how these aims are going to apply to India and to be given effect to in the present. Do they include elimination of imperialism and the treatment of India as a free nation whose policy will be guided in accordance with the wishes of her people?. . . .The real test of any declaration is its application in the present, for it is the present that will govern action to-day and give shape to the future.... It will be infinite tragedy if even this terrible war is carried on in the spirit of imperialism and for the purpose of retaining this structure which is itself the cause of war and human degradation.'
This statement, issued after anxious deliberation, was an attempt to overcome the barriers that had arisen between India and England and poisoned their relations for a century and a half, to find some way to reconcile our eagerness to join in this world struggle with popular enthusiasm behind us, and our passionate desire for freedom. The assertion of India's right to freedom was no new thing; it was not the result of the war or the international crisis. It had long been the very basis for all our thoughts and activities, round which we had revolved for many generations. There was no difficulty whatever in making a clear declaration of India's freedom and then adapting this to existing circumstances, keeping the needs of the war in view. Indeed the very necessities of the war demanded it. If England had the desire and the will to acknowledge India's freedom, every major difficulty vanished and what remained was capable of adjustment with the consent of the parties concerned. In every province provincial governments were functioning. It was easy to evolve a popular central apparatus of government for the war period, which would organize the war effort on an efficient and popular basis, co-operate fully with the armed forces, and be a link between the people and the provincial governments on the one hand, and the British Government on the other. Other constitutional problems could be postponed till after the war, though of course it was desirable to attempt to solve them even earlier. After the war the elected representatives of the people would draw up the permanent constitution and enter into a treaty with England in regard to our mutual interests.
It was no easy matter for the Congress Executive to make this offer to England when most of our people had little appreciation of the international issues involved and were expressing their resentment at recent British policy. We knew that long-standing distrust and suspicion on both sides could not vanish away by some magic word. Yet we hoped that the very stress of events would induce England's leaders to come out of their imperialist grooves, take a long view and accept our offer, thus ending the long feud between England and India, and releasing India's enthusiasm and resources for the war.
But that was not to be, and their answer was a refusal of all we had asked for. It became clear to us that they did not want us as friends and colleagues but as a slave people to do their bidding. We used the same word 'co-operation,' but a different meaning was attached to it by either party. For us co-operation was to be between comrades and equals; for them it meant their commanding and our obeying without demur. It was impossible for us to accept this position without abandoning and betraying everything we had stood for and that had given some meaning to our lives. And even if some of us had been willing to do so we could not have carried our people with us; we would have been stranded, isolated, and cut off" from the living currents of nationalism, as well as from the internationalism that we envisaged.
The position of our provincial governments became difficult and the choice for them was submission to continuous interference by the Governor and the Viceroy or conflict with them. The superior services were wholly on the Governor's side and looked upon the ministers and the legislature, even more than before, as intruders. Again there was the old constitutional conflict between an autocratic king or his representatives and a parliament, with this addition, that the former were foreigners basing their rule on armed force. It was decided that the Congress governments in the eight provinces out of eleven (all except Bengal, Punjab, and Sind) should resign in protest. Some were of opinion that instead of resigning they should carry on and thus invite dismissal by the Governor. It was clear that in view of the inherent conflict, which was daily becoming more obvious, clashes between them and the governors were inevitable and if they did not resign, they would be dismissed from office. They took the strictly constitutional course of resigning and thus inviting a dissolution of the legislature and fresh elections. As big majorities were behind them in the Legislatures no other ministries could be formed. The governors, however, were anxious to avoid new elections as they knew well enough that these would result in the overwhelming triumph of the Congress. They did not dissolve the legislatures but merely suspended them, and assumed all the powers of the provincial governments and legislatures. They became completely autocratic heads of provinces, making laws, issuing decrees, and doing everything else they wanted to without the slightest reference to any elected body or to public opinion.
British spokesmen have often asserted that the Congress Exe-cutive acted in an authoritarian manner in calling upon the provincial governments to resign. This is an odd charge, coming from those who have been functioning in a more autocratic and authoritarian manner than anyone outside the fascist and nazi countries. As a matter of fact the very foundation of Congress policy, on which members of the legislatures had been elected and provincial governments had been formed after assurances from the Viceroy, was freedom of action in the provincial sphere and no interference by Governor or Viceroy. This interference was now a frequent occurrence and even the statutory powers of the provincial governments, given under the Government of India Act of 1935, had been further limited. These statutory powers of the provinces were now overridden for war purposes by an amendment of the Act by the British Parliament. The discretion when and where to interfere in the provinces was left entirely to the Government of India, which meant the Viceroy, and no statutory safeguards were left to protect the powers of the provincial governments, which could carry on only on sufferance. The Viceroy and Governor-General, with the assured co-operation of his nominated executive council, could override, under cloak of war necessity, every decision of the provincial governments and legislatures. No responsible ministry could function in these circumstances; it would either come into con-flict with the Governor and the services or with the legislature and its constituents. Each legislature, where there was a Congress majority, formally adopted the demand of the Congress after the war began, and the rejection of this demand by the Viceroy, inevitably meant conflict or resignation. The general feeling among the rank and file was for launching a struggle with the British power. The Congress Executive was, however, anxious to avoid this as far as possible and took the milder course. It was easy for the British Government to test the feeling of the people generally or of the voters by having general elections. They avoided this because they had no doubt that elections would result in overwhelming Congress victories.
In the major provinces of Bengal and the Punjab and in the small province of Sind, there were no resignations. In both Bengal and Punjab the Governors and the superior services had all along played a dominant role and hence no conflict could arise. Even so, in Bengal on a later occasion the Governor did not like the Prime Minister and forced him and his ministry to resign. In Sind also, at a later stage, the Prime Minister addressed a letter to the Viceroy criticizing the British Government's policy and, as a protest, gave up an honour conferred on him by that Government. He did not resign. The Viceroy, however, made the Governor dismiss him from the premiership because of this letter, which was not considered in keeping with the vice regal dignity.
It is nearly five years since the Congress provincial governments resigned. During this entire period there has been one-man rule, the Governor's in each of the provinces and we have gone back, under the pretext and in the fog of war, to the full-blooded autocracy of the middle-nineteenth century. The civil service and the police are supreme and if any of their number, English or Indian, shows the slightest disinclination to carry out the ruthless policy of the British Government, the gravest displeasure is visited on him. Much of the work done by the Congress governments has been undone and their schemes have been liquidated. Fortunately, some of the tenancy legislation has remained, but even this is often interpreted against the interests of the tenants.
During the last two years, in the three minor provinces of Assam, Orissa, and the North-West Frontier, provincial governments have been reconstituted by the very simple device of imprisoning a number of members of the legislatures, and thus converting a minority into a majority. In Bengal the existing ministry depends entirely on the support of the large European bloc. The Orissa ministry did not survive for long and that province reverted to the Governor's one-man rule. In the Frontier Province a ministry continued to function, though it had no majority to back it, and hence a meeting of the Legislature was avoided. In the Punjab and Sind special executive orders were passed on Congress members of the legislatures (those out of prison) preventing them from attending the sessions of the legislative assemblies or participating in any public activities [Early in 1945 the Frontier Legislative Assembly had at last to meet for the budget session. The Ministry was defeated on a vote of confidence and resigned. A Congress Ministry, with Dr. Khan Sahib as Premier, then took office.]


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