India Remembered
Page 6
Then Panditji arrived to stay – I didn’t know him well at that stage. He had been invited as a friend but after a couple of days my father began soul-searching and decided to show Nehru the Mountbatten Plan to get his feedback. Nehru was incandescent and kept Krishna Menon up until dawn the night that he arrived, dictating the ‘bombshell’ letter dated the 11th May to my father, which rejected many points of the plan which he saw as the ‘Balkanisation’ of his country. My father rethought and with the incredible and brilliant V.P. Menon, redrafted the whole plan and resubmitted it to London – much to the Indian Office and Attlee’s confusion and perturbation.
Thursday 8th May
Pandit Nehru arrived to stay for a few days. We had lunch in the garden alone with Mr Nehru… Evening alone with Pandit Nehru.
Friday 9th May
We walked and talked in the garden with Panditji. Later on we joined up with Mummy and Daddy and party and had tea at Mashobra. The house there really is adorable and the obvious place to stay if one was up for a holiday. However it certainly is ‘The Retreat’ and can only be reached on foot. The famous orchards are most impressive.
Saturday 10th May
Krishna Menon arrived to stay.
With my parents and Mizzen on the Terrace.
Sunday 11th May
Yesterday evening Panditji gave us a demonstration of standing on his head, a performance he goes through for about ten minutes every morning and during which the major problems of India are solved! Actually he really is marvellously fit and had the three of us down on the floor doing the most extraordinary yogi exercises.
I had a long talk with Krishna Menon, about the most cynical person I’ve met so far but very interesting. They are all very frank in the way of never agreeing casually for the mistaken sake of manners but catch one up at once, something which takes some getting used to. [With hindsight, this is perhaps not surprising if he had been up all night prevously with Panditji!] Panditji left.
Monday 12th May
Krishna Menon left.
Tuesday 13th May
We returned in the Viceregal rickshaws. The pace and distance they run is fantastic, but it was really even more awful and truly degrading (especially for the passenger) than I had even imagined.
Back to Delhi
Wednesday 14th May
We came back to Delhi, where of course, one now feels the heat far worse having spent some time in the hills. The heat in the shade is now about 113° and in the sun anything up 150°. This is the first time I have ever really been in a temperature over 100°, but I think that probably by then one is already so hot that however much it might rise one could not really feel much hotter! It is at night that it is unpleasant, though, very difficult to sleep in.
I went as usual in the evening to the Canteen where we seem to drink more ourselves than we serve out!
Thursday 15th May
I went to the Clinic. Its hours get steadily earlier and earlier as the heat increases, we now start at 8:00. It is the same with riding which now generally starts at 6:15. It is extraordinary what one can pick up in necessity and how quickly, as one just doesn’t have time to stop and really think of what one is doing as so many patients come now.
Mummy spent the day touring Multhan as a result of her failure to get there last time.
It has now been decided that Daddy is returning to London for two weeks for talks. [about the subsequent and last-minute changes to the Mountbatten plan] Mummy is going too. They are to leave at the end of the week.
Hindustani Lessons and
the Caravan of India
I started my Hindustani lessons with the fresh optimism of a keen eighteen-year-old, it is only in later diary entries that my frustration begins to show. It was also at this time that I first became involved with the Caravan of India.
Friday 16th May
Yesterday evening I had my first lesson in Hindustani. It is fun learning and really essential to be able to speak it, as otherwise one is terribly out of contact, but as it takes about a year to learn I might just about be able to speak by the time we leave for home!
A man came to see me about a fun fair and bazaar I have been asked to open. It is for a society called the Caravan of India, a branch of an international American-founded, non-religious, non-political youth organisation concerned with welfare work and international pen friendships. The thought of making my first speech has ruined the whole week. Mr Jinnah, Fatima and the Liaquats all came to dinner.
Saturday 17th May
I went with Mummy to see all the quarters on the Estate, both the clerks’ houses which are quite nice, and the servants’ quarters in the compounds which are terrible. It was the first time a Vicereine had been to see them, and about time too, although there is so little one can do in the short time left and so much needs doing. When one thinks that they were built only twenty years ago it is terrifying that they are so appalling. Although of course they are far better than the average quarters.
Sunday 18th May
I went to see Mummy and Daddy off. Sir John Colville, the Acting Viceroy, arrived yesterday with Lady Colville.
The house really is just like an hotel since except for occasional meals and parties or sometimes swimming or riding, one never meets each other at all. I opened the famous bazaar in an absolute cold sweat and forgot large chunks of the speech which I had written and learnt, but luckily no one realised and the actual fair was terrific fun.
My first speech opening the fun fair of the Caravan of India Club was horrifying. I wrote it myself and said something as deep as ‘I pronounce you open’ or some such thing. When I came back to England, I found of course that the British arm of this international organisation all descended on me and I got out of it because it wasn’t really the same thing at home. But in India, it was really the only youth organisation. Dear Ghulam Naqshband was always approaching me to do things, he was to become the bane of my life.
Cutting the tape to open the fun fair.
Tuesday 20th May
I had another Hindustani lesson and after a quiet lunch with their Exes, spent the afternoon reading and writing. It really is terribly hot at night now and so I have taken to sleeping in Mummy’s room as it is properly air-conditioned. On her return I will have a camp bed in her sitting room as that is also air-conditioned. It is at night that the heat really bothers.
Thursday 22nd May
I went to the Clinic. Picking up the required phrases of Hindustani is quite easy but unfortunately they always seem to produce long and voluble answers which is most awkward!
I gather from the papers that Mummy and Daddy are getting along alright and everything seems to be going quite smoothly which is a relief. [We got both the Indian national press and the overseas editions of the British press.]
Tuesday 27th May
I had one of the ‘three times a week’ Hindustani lessons. The teacher gets terribly enthusiastic and stays for hours and hours. It is quite fun and I badly want to learn but it gets more and more hopeless and muddling at the moment and I feel I shall soon drive both poor Mr Lal and myself to drink! I went with the Colvilles to a party given by Panditji and the External Affairs.
Wednesday 28th May
Panditji has sent me his Glimpses of World History and the book of letters he wrote for Indira, together with a very sweet note. It was extremely kind of him to trouble as they are almost unobtainable now and so very exciting having them.
Thursday 29th May
I went to the Clinic where everything was as busy and hectic as usual.
Friday 30th May
Of course, as with all Mountbatten departures or arrivals, this one upset every made plan and threw everyone into complete turmoil. First it was to be today, then tomorrow, now today only at 9:30am instead of 6:00. But that soon changed to 10:30 as the pilot went sick, then he got better and it was back at 8:00. Then threatened sandstorms stalled plans for landing at Ambala or Agra. They finally turned up at Palam at 10:20 but having sent
signals to put the Burma Star Party of 2,000 ahead by one day, and as all the invitations were already out chaos was renewed. It was great fun hearing all their news and about Patricia and Junior who sound flourishing.
Saturday 31st May
I went to the Canteen, which is usual on a Saturday.
We went to a reception given by the Chinese Ambassador, the first official party to be given by an Embassy in India.
Went on to a farewell cocktail party given by the Scots Fusiliers, who of course, have now just received orders to stay on!
My parents in a relaxed moment before going riding.
The Mountbatten Plan:
June 1947
June was characterised by a galvanisation of effort on the part of the Interim Government after the announcement of the Mountbatten Plan on 4th June and the date for the Transfer of Power on 15th August. But whereas at first it was expected that all would be amicable over partition, relations gradually worsened between Congress and the Muslim League throughout the month, and indeed in the months leading up to partition. Daddy settled down to a regime of organisation and speed, Mummy threw herself into making sure that the Indian medical and social welfare organisations would be ready for the exit of the British. The month began with my father’s return from London where they had approved all the amendments to the plan and both Attlee’s Cabinet and Winston’s Opposition had agreed to push legislation through as soon as possible. This allowed my father to return to India victorious and able to press ahead urgently with the moves that would lead to Dominion Status for both India and Pakistan. The first thing that was needed was to meet and get the Indian leaders’ agreement (of course he already had that from Nehru), and secondly it needed announcing to the country and the wider world.
Sunday 1st June
Daddy came home [from London] with the news that at last all seems settled.
Philip and Lilibet [Princess Elizabeth] soon will not be able to deny the rumours about them or ignore the ‘Daily Mirror’ polls!
Monday 2nd June
The talks with the Indian leaders went on all morning so that one was continually bumping into them round corners and there were crowds of pressmen and photographers outside. However, they soon marched out in protest as they could learn nothing. Everyone is going round with rather set and glazed expressions as all the usual last minute dramas occur and there have been several instances when the entire plan was nearly wrecked by various people.
On 3rd June my father called a meeting with the Indian leaders to discuss the ways that two Dominions within the Commonwealth could be accommodated. He asked for their agreement by midnight. Only Jinnah nearly stymied the plan, saying that he would need to get the agreement of the Muslim League. My father persuaded Jinnah that if he couldn’t give his verbal agreement at the meeting the next day, my father would at least get a nod of the head from him to signal that he would not rock the plan.
3rd June: My father broadcasting acceptance of the Plan over All India Radio.
Tuesday 3rd June
This morning part of the plan, which is at the moment dead secret and only known to the actual leaders, appeared word for word in the newspapers. Leakages seem almost immediate and completely uncontrollable. In the evening the announcement was broadcast simultaneously in London and Delhi. First Daddy spoke, an explanation of the course of events and an appeal for co-operation, then the announcement was read of the plan for Dominion Status by August for two self-governing authorities of Pakistan and Hindustan, the possible partition of the Punjab and Bengal and the reason for the failure to make a unified India possible owing to complete disagreement. Finally Nehru, Jinnah and Baldev Singh (for the Sikhs) and then an entire repetition in Hindustani.
After getting the leaders’ agreement (and Jinnah’s nod) on the 4th June, there was a big press conference at which my father spoke eloquently without notes. My father’s attitude by the 3rd/4th June was that Partition was an absurd idea but inevitable as the Indians wanted independence and couldn’t agree. But, he believed firmly, they must be the ones to make it work.
The 4th June happened to fall on Gandhiji’s day of silence. Although his approval of the plan was not necessary to put it into effect, my father knew that if Gandhi preached against it then there could be appalling civil unrest. Luckily his subsequent interview with Gandhi went well and he sadly accepted the inevitability of Partition.
3rd June: The seven leaders accept the Transfer of Power Plan in the Viceroy’s study. Clockwise: Mishtar, Baldev Singh, Kripalani, Patel, Nehru, my father, Jinnah and Liaquat.
Wednesday 4th June
Daddy gave an enormous press conference to over two hundred, the first to be given by a Viceroy. It really was a tremendous success, although at first they were all rather suspicious and puzzled by the obviously friendly attitude of the proceedings.
‘If both of us – Hindu and Muslim – cannot
agree on anything else [aside from partition]
then the Viceroy is left with no choice.’
Gandhi prayer meeting 4th June 1947
My father wrote to my sister a few days later on 11th June that the 2nd/3rd June had been the worst twenty-four hours of his life.
Thursday 5th June
I went to the Clinic and spent three and a half hectic hours trying to deal with an unending stream of patients in the most appalling heat, although of course one feels it far less if one really is too busy to have time to think about it. One doctor is away and the other two are sick so it was all rather desperate. I managed to get hold of one of Andy Taylor’s [Surgeon to the Viceroy] assistants to cope but he won’t be able to come for long as they are very busy at the Viceregal Clinic too.
Friday 6th June
The Hindustani teacher came again. Although I have been assured the contrary, it certainly seems just as complicated as most other languages, the only thing being that the majority of the people don’t speak it in any way correctly themselves.
Saturday 7th June
Mummy and I went to look at one of the basement rooms which might be suitable for the recreation hall we are trying to start for all the domestic staff. I went to the Canteen as usual.
Tuesday 10th June
I went with Mummy to a small blind school just outside Tughlukkhabad. They had nice light buildings and the pupils, as with most blind people with their sensitive fingers, were doing the most beautiful spinning and weaving.
I had an Urdu lesson!
Wednesday 11th June
Mr Naqshbahd came to discuss the Caravan of India and youth activities in general with me.
Thursday 12th June
I spent the morning at the Clinic.
There was a big dinner party to celebrate the King’s birthday and at which we all got extremely hot and very bored.
We would have chosen the hottest summer that they have had out here for over seventy-five years in which to come out!
Meanwhile there was a group of people who were not involved in the discussions about the transfer of power – namely the Princes, many of whom were friends that my father had been introduced to in 1921 on his trip as ADC to the Prince of Wales. My father’s intention was that the Princes would either accede to India or to Pakistan in return for a modicum of independence. The wolves got to them in the end but he did at least secure them a few years of protection and independence.
The plan was not meeting impassible resistance among the ranks of Princes, with the exception of Kashmir (which had a Hindu ruler but was mainly a Muslim state) and Hyderabad (which had a Muslim ruler but was mainly Hindu). Nehru being a Kashmiri was intent on travelling to Kashmir himself to see the Maharaja, but my father realised the dangers inherent in that plan and luckily we could take up a long-standing invitation to visit the Prince ourselves. There was therefore a political expedient to our trip to Kashmir – to convince the Maharaja to accept the plan – and save Nehru humiliation.
In a letter to Mary I wrote : ‘[we spent] five wonderful days in Kashmir.
It is just as lovely as it is always described, hills and lakes and gorgeous colouring. We saw the famous Shalimar Gardens (and were reminded of the Pale Hands I Loved poem) and were staying in Srinagar on the Dal Lake, but we were actually staying in the Palace so everything was rather organised and we weren’t able to wander about. However, I saw my first black bear which was exciting.’
Friday 13th June
We are going up to Simla for a few days before going on to Kashmir which is lovely. We left at lunch time and consequently nearly died of heat at the airport. We are a very small party and are going to have only a few people to meals which will be nice. Peter came up with us for a holiday as he leaves for England quite soon now. We had a very nice drive up in the open car.
Saturday 14th June
I went into the town with Freddie [Captain Burnaby-Atkins, ADC] and had drinks and ices with the Hoppers [some young American friends]. We had to take rickshaws back since, as usual, we were terribly late for lunch and mine nearly ran down poor old Doctor Loh [who later became the First Chinese Ambassador to India]. We got out and rescued him and he was delighted to see us and he was quite by himself.
Sunday 15th June
Mummy and I took Dr Loh to Mashobra. As a result of the expedition he very sweetly sent me a book for what he called ‘light summer reading’ but as it was conversations between Goethe and Ekermann I was not sure that I agreed.
SACSEA/Viceregal ‘York MW102’.
Monday 16th June
Daddy and Peter had to leave which was a great pity, but Mummy and I are staying on for two more days and he is picking us up on the way to Kashmir.
Tuesday 17th June
One of the new lady clerks, a charming girl called Miss Fellowes, suddenly fell ill after she had only been here a few days. There was an extraordinary story in which she appears to have been taken by the WVS [Women’s Voluntary Service] to a solely Indian hospital where she subsequently could not be found. Finally traced by Susan Chance [Lord Ismay’s eldest daughter], she had to be taken in an open truck, screaming and delirious through the streets of Old Delhi. Andy has been doing everything possible ever since and she was recovering slightly when we heard today that she had died. It really is too tragic, especially for the family who were on their way out.