India's War

by Srinath Raghavan

  These concerns took more definite shape in the context of Britain’s own plans for a diversionary attack in aid of Finland. On 6 December 1939, the Foreign Office circulated a memorandum arguing that Russia was well poised for an expansionist policy towards Afghanistan. Such a move would ‘clearly enjoy the full support of Germany’. Moscow could aim to grab parts of northern Afghanistan either by an outright military attack or by a combination of military pressure, political intrigue and propaganda. The Red Army had shown itself quite capable of occupying territory against an ‘enemy unprovided with modern means of defence’. While an attack on India was still seen as improbable, Soviet penetration into Afghanistan would be a ‘definite advance in this direction’ and would deal a ‘grave blow’ to Britain’s prestige.25 Days before the Finnish surrender, the chiefs of staff insisted that ‘Germany and the Soviet Union have for the moment common interests in achieving the disruption of the British Empire’ – important parts of which could be attacked from Russia. Germany would be willing to provide such assistance as the Russians would be willing to accept.26

  But Kabul continued to play cat-and-mouse with New Delhi and London. In March 1940, the Afghan prime minister asked the British government for a ‘clear definition’ of its ‘attitude and action’ in the event of a Russian attack on Afghanistan. After a careful triangular consideration of views between London, New Delhi and the legation in Kabul, the war cabinet decided in early April to convey an assurance to Afghanistan: in the event of a Soviet attack the British would give ‘all assistance in their power’, including some immediate land and air assistance from India. At the same time, however, Britain could not take up any obligation for the defence of the northern frontier of Afghanistan.27

  This assurance was conveyed to the Afghan premier on 1 May. Another visit to Kabul by Brigadier Molesworth was also proposed. The Afghans yet again shrank from embracing the British offer. The Wehrmacht’s spectacular successes in the Low Countries had caused a ‘considerable setback in Afghan opinion’. The younger members of the government in particular wondered if this was the right time to tilt towards Britain. Indeed, three weeks passed before Kabul formally replied to London. The Afghans felt that in the prevailing circumstances, they could not risk offending Russia by openly receiving an Indian military delegation. Instead they proposed sending their own senior officers to India.28

  The fall of France dealt a further setback to the efforts to woo Afghanistan. The Afghans were amazed to hear that ‘the countries of Western Europe were falling like nine-pins before the German advance’. By the end of June 1940, they were forced to reckon with the fact that Britain was on the ropes. The Afghan prime minister politely declined an offer of 5,000 rifles and supplies of ammunition from India until Britain was able to cater to his country’s major requirements. The arrival of a small consignment would only ‘give a bad impression’. And now that arms were off the table, what was the point in sending a military delegation to India?29 It was evident that Kabul now sought to defuse the Russian threat by other means. The first indication of this was the signing of a trade agreement with the Soviet Union towards the end of July 1940. Over the next few months, the threat of a Soviet invasion of Afghanistan visibly receded.

  Despite Kabul’s desire to eschew a strategic embrace, the viceroy felt it imperative to avoid giving any impression that India would not come to the aid of Afghanistan against a Soviet threat. This would have ‘serious and damaging repercussions in Muslim India, on the North-West Frontier and in the Indian Army’. The rub lay in making good on these assurances in the event of a crisis.30

  India knew full well that it would have to shoulder this hefty load. But its own military resources were already overstretched and it would need considerable aid from Britain to implement any plan of assistance to Afghanistan. In consequence, the Indian general staff had suggested focusing their plans on supporting Afghan forces in the southern parts of the country – the Kandahar–Gereshk area. However, the British chiefs of staff maintained that there had to be at least a token presence in Kabul. These differences had been subtly manipulated by London telling the Afghan government that it could expect no assistance for the defence of its northern frontier. In early May, Molesworth had observed despairingly that London’s attitude was that ‘We will take all and give nothing. But you must implement our new policy which we have already announced to the Afghan Government.’31

  The Indian general staff were set against sending even token forces to Kabul. At a conference chaired by Linlithgow, it was decided that they should draw up a full plan for effective assistance of Afghanistan and then confront the British government with the magnitude of the problem. Accordingly, on 15 May 1940, the defence department had conveyed to the India Office a fleshed-out plan for assisting Afghanistan. This envisaged a two-pronged advance into Afghanistan: a northern line aimed at reinforcing Kabul and a southern line to forestall a Soviet advance towards Helmand and to stabilize the Kandahar area.32

  The implementation of the plan would require no fewer than sixteen infantry brigades, three mobile brigades, eight field artillery regiments, three anti-aircraft regiments and twenty-one air force squadrons. India now had six RAF squadrons and one squadron of the Royal Indian Air Force, so the remaining fourteen squadrons would have to be provided by London. Besides, all the anti-aircraft units would have to come from British resources. New Delhi, for its part, undertook to embark on a major of plan of expanding the Indian army by eighteen infantry battalions, three field artillery regiments, and all support and logistics units for a total of six divisions. These additional forces would be raised, trained and ready for deployment by April 1941.33

  The chiefs of staff’s reaction was wholly predictable. They saw ‘no prospect’ of giving the commander-in-chief any of the additional resources he had demanded. India would have to make do with what it had and ‘accept the risks involved in operations undertaken with relative[ly] small forces, and without air support’.34 India was accordingly asked to prepare a watered-down interim plan for Afghanistan. The general staff went back to the drawing board and concocted a limited plan towards the end of June 1940. This plan sought only to prevent Soviet forces from reaching the north-west frontier by a forward deployment of Indian troops to Jalalabad in the east of Afghanistan and, if possible, to Kandahar in the south. By the time it was drawn up, however, the general staff knew that the Russian threat to Afghanistan had ‘largely receded’ and the problem was more of containing hostile propaganda and clandestine activity aimed at overthrowing the government in Kabul.35

  The chiefs of staff concurred with this assessment. They were also delighted at the Indian government’s initiative in expanding the Indian army. The more so, since India had indicated that if Afghanistan remained quiescent, these troops could be used elsewhere. Thus, even after the Russian hobgoblin had conjured itself away, the threat to Afghanistan continued to be invoked to justify a major expansion of the Indian army. New Delhi and London knew that the Raj would be called upon to make a major contribution to the defence of countries that traditionally fell under its sphere of influence. And the Middle East loomed large in the minds of strategic planners in India as well as Britain.

  Up to June 1940 the main threat to British interests in the Middle East was perceived to be from Russia. From the outset, the chiefs of staff believed that the penetration of northern Iran would be an ‘easy matter’ for Russia. This could subsequently develop into a threat to the Anglo-Iranian oilfields in the south of the country. What was more, Russian incursion into Iran could unsettle Iraq and threaten the land communications linking the Persian Gulf with Egypt. Only India would be able to provide forces to safeguard these interests.36 India, of course, was of its own volition willing to send troops to protect the oilfields in Iran.

  In December 1939, the Foreign Office felt that alongside Afghanistan, Iran would be a prime target for Soviet expansion with the connivance – if not direct assistance – of Germany. The chiefs of staff were clear t
hat at the first sign of a Russian move on Iran, they would have to cater for the internal security and air defence of the Anglo-Iranian oilfields and the port of Basra. While this might not initially entail a large commitment, if the Russian advance continued then they would have to prepare for the defence of Iraq as well as the oilfields.37 Within a month, the British generals came to a grimmer view of the problem. They now believed that ‘considerable forces’ might be required to protect vital interests in the Middle East. Although no troops were immediately sent, logistical preparations were set afoot to support future force deployments. In mid-January 1940, London also took up India’s offer to send an army division to protect the Anglo-Iranian oilfields.38 In the event, however, the threat to the Middle East materialized not from Russia but from the Axis powers.

  Well before the onset of the war, the British government was aware that a hostile Italy could pose a serious danger to imperial interests and communications in the Middle East and North Africa. The Chamberlain government was relieved when the country did not throw in its lot with Germany immediately after war broke out. The war cabinet was abuzz with ideas to appease Italy into continued neutrality, including one for naval détente in the Mediterranean and mutual withdrawal of land and air forces from North-East Africa. Although the chiefs of staff opposed schemes that sought to surrender their military positions, they initially believed that ‘the danger of Italian hostility seems to be receding’. They also recognized, however, that reversals in Europe could draw Italy into the fray alongside Germany. So, they advocated preparing to fight Italy in North-East Africa.39

  The nightmare of British planners was the scenario in which both Russia and Italy turned aggressively against Britain’s interests in the Middle East and North Africa. Towards the end of April 1940, when the Wehrmacht was racing across the European continent, London grew desperate to keep Italy from entering the war. The war cabinet approved Foreign Secretary Halifax’s proposal to make further attempts to reach an economic agreement with Italy.40 The Anglo-French supreme war council also decided that no action should be taken that could precipitate conflict with Italy before the Allies had concentrated their forces in the eastern Mediterranean. The chiefs of staff, however, suggested making a series of minor military deployments in North and East Africa as well as the Middle East. As one of these moves, London accepted India’s offer to send a battalion to reinforce Aden. In early June, India was asked to despatch another battalion to Aden.41 By the time these troops were in place, however, Italy was already at war.

  Italy’s entry hugely inflated India’s commitment to the war. The turning of the strategic spotlight on North-East Africa and the Middle East inevitably downgraded the importance of the Far East. This was ironic, for only a few months earlier the chiefs of staff had emphatically stated:

  Our interests in the Middle East, as important as they are, are not as important as the security of France and Britain or Singapore. Steps to increase our forces in the Middle East must therefore not be taken at the expense of our essential requirements in the West or our ability to defend Singapore.42

  Moreover, the chiefs of staff conceded that the idea of concentrating the main fleet at Singapore was a chimera; the bulk of the Royal Navy had to give priority to the northern Atlantic and Mediterranean. They could only draw comfort from the small steps being taken for reinforcing fortress Singapore, and thereby ‘extending the period’ for which it could notionally hold out against a Japanese attack.43

  Yet, in mid-March 1940, the chiefs of staff pulled out two medium bomber squadrons from the meagre defences of Singapore. These were sent to India and thence to the Middle East to prepare for the possibility of a Russian threat to the region. The bomber squadrons had originally been sent to Singapore from India as ‘insurance’ against a Japanese attack. ‘Since then the situation has changed materially,’ the chiefs argued, ‘in that risk of war with Japan has considerably receded while that of war with Russia has increased.’44 Though the latter part of this assumption was belied, the entry of Italy into the war did activate the Middle Eastern and African theatres of the conflict. Until December 1941, the balance of India’s external priorities remained tilted towards the west.

  3

  Competing Offers

  The German Blitzkrieg in the spring of 1940 stunned India. As the Wehrmacht punched its way through to the Channel coast and Paris, a spasm of fear coursed through many parts of the country. After the fall of France, the viceroy sought information on the impact of German successes on the Indian public. These reports spoke of ‘general bewilderment and some depression and nervousness as to the nearing possibility that India may actually be subject to attack’. In some places, there was evidence of panic as well. There had been ‘unusually heavy withdrawals from the Post Office Savings Bank’ – a key indication of alarm in rural and small-town India. In cities too there were substantial drawings from bank accounts, though there was no ‘run on the Banks’.1

  So widespread was the panic that even Gandhi felt impelled to issue a public statement urging the people not to hastily withdraw their deposits or turn their promisory notes into hard cash. ‘Your metal buried underground or in your treasure chests’, he wrote, ‘need not be considered safer than in banks or in paper if anarchy overtakes us.’ He counselled his readers not to lose their nerve or imagine that ‘tomorrow there will be no Government’.2 Gandhi’s thoughts on the panic were prompted by the letters that he received during this period. But he too felt the tremors of the Nazi occupation of Western Europe. Gandhi himself observed that if Britain and France failed, ‘the history of Europe and the history of the world will be written in a manner no one can foresee’.3

  As the Germans cut through the Low Countries, Gandhi’s senior colleagues grew concerned. Rajendra Prasad, the devout Gandhian from Bihar, was ‘deeply distressed’. He felt that Hitler was determined to wipe weaker nations off the map. His anger against the British for not reaching out to the Congress was somewhat assuaged and he now felt that it was ‘our duty to help the British in defeating Germany and help stop the rot’. Prasad was so overwhelmed by these thoughts that he issued a press statement to this effect.4 He was not alone. Asaf Ali, another member of the Congress Working Committee, publicly called for the immediate formation of a national coalition government to steer the war effort.

  Nehru was irked by these statements.5 ‘Hitler may win this war’, he conceded, ‘but Hitler will not dominate the world. He will fall as Napoleon fell.’ More than the invasion of Western Europe, he was struck by the ‘singular obtuseness’ of the British government. Even the hammer-blows of war and disaster had failed to dent their imperialist outlook or change their approach to India. Worse, even the Labour Party’s stance mirrored these attitudes. While it would be wrong at this moment to rush at Britain’s throat, Nehru was clear that the Congress must not change its stance in the slightest. He was convinced that the British Empire had had its day: ‘It will go to pieces and not all the king’s horses and all the king’s men will be able to put it together again.’6

  The Congress leadership decided – ‘as a demonstration of coolness’ – not to call for an emergency meeting of the Working Committee.7 Eventually it was convened in Wardha towards the end of June 1940. Although Gandhi sympathized with Britain’s plight, he was preoccupied not with the political but the moral question. He asked the Working Committee to demonstrate its faith in non-violence by proclaiming at this critical juncture that an independent India would not maintain armed forces for defence against external aggression or internal disorder. Others baulked at this suggestion. Given the realities of politics and human nature it seemed simply impractical to rule out the last resort of force. Yet the debate on principles had political undercurrents – not least because of the immediate crisis.

  Leading the dissent against Gandhi’s position yet again was Rajagopalachari. The former premier of Madras had reluctantly given up office the previous year. In the fall of France, he discerned an opportunity. A dea
l could be struck with the Raj, for Britain might want to get as an ally ‘a free India when she has lost France’.8 Rajagopalachari set about convincing his colleagues of the merits of his proposal. The Congress president, Azad, was the first convert, but his ‘greatest prize’, as Gandhi put it, was Vallabhbhai Patel. This stalwart Gandhian from Gujarat, who exercised formidable influence on the Congress machinery, felt unable to rule out the utility of force. Moreover, he too wanted to see the Congress party back in power. Yet a break with his master seemed inconceivable.

  ‘If you order me,’ Patel told Gandhi, ‘I will shut my eyes and obey you.’

  ‘Don’t,’ replied Gandhi.9

  Gandhi insisted, however, that the Working Committee must absolve him of the responsibility for the Congress’s policy and allow him to chart his own course. What was more, he wanted this to be made public. On 21 June, the Working Committee published a resolution stating as much.

  This public acknowledgement of a breach with Gandhi sent tremors through the rank-and-file of the Congress party. So, the Working Committee resumed its deliberations on 3 July; but these only served to widen the rift. At this meeting, Rajagopalachari tabled a resolution reiterating India’s demand for independence. The crux of the resolution, though, was an offer to withdraw non-cooperation – if the entire field of central government, including defence, was immediately placed under the charge of a national government.10 Gandhi said that he was not afraid of power: ‘Some day or the other we will have to take it.’ But it was important, he insisted, to find out if Rajagopalachari’s thinking reflected the wishes of most Congressmen. He asked the Working Committee not to publish any resolution, but to go to the provinces and quietly ascertain opinion there.11