Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel

by B Krishna

  Bucher, who had opposed the operations, paid glowing tributes to Patel in his admission: “I take no credit to myself for the success of the Hyderabad operation. In all the circumstances from beginning to end, I was not prepared to say ‘Go’ until every possible development had been thought out and guarded against. The Sardar is, in my opinion, a very great man indeed . . . Undoubtedly, he was right when he decided that either the Government of Hyderabad must accept the Indian Government’s conditions, or else the State would have to be entered in order to eliminate the Razakars.”50

  Writing in the Christian Science Monitor, W. Gordon Graham called Patel the man “who by his decisiveness resolved the great Hyderabad crisis . . . Hyderabad, a State covering 80,000 square miles in the heart of peninsular India, was at that time in the grip of an unscrupulous minority, which aimed at secession from India. Had the bid succeeded, India might not have survived as a political unit. This situation needed a man of iron who would not balk at coercive action, and in the Sardar India had at that vital moment just the man”.51

  7

  DEMOLISHER OF PRINCELY ORDER

  Patel vs. Wellesley

  Patel’s unification and consolidation of over 560 princely states, in a country of continental size and diverse people, was epoch-making—of greater importance than Bismarck’s role in Germany. In India, his creation can be comparable, though in contrast, with Lord Wellesley’s princely order that laid the foundations of Britain’s Indian Empire. That order, nevertheless, met with its peaceful demise at the hands of Patel. The replacement was most democratic, taking care of the interests of both, the princes and their subjects. Wellesley’s policy was aggressive imperialism that reduced the once proud princes to mere puppets and sycophants. Patel didn’t do that. His integration was a bloodless revolution, in the achievement of which the princes were his equal partners. He was generous to them to a fault, allowing them to live, as before, in their royal palaces and to enjoy handsome privy purses to live happily in the style they were used to. He even offered them opportunities to serve their country in dignified positions.

  Wellesley, governor-general of India (1798-1805), built the empire on the basis of two Indias—British India and princely India, each independent of the other, but the latter served as a bulwark against the former. During his seven years in India, Wellesley concluded as many as 100 treaties with Indian princes, making them subservient to British rule under his policy of subsidiary alliances—an umbrella of “defensive alliance and mutual guarantee”.

  India was passing through chaotic times. Princes faced danger from their neighbours, small and big. Wellesley offered them guarantee of protection by stationing British troops within a state, for which payment was made “either in cash or by alienating a portion of his territory to British control”. By such arrangement, the prince was “secure against his Indian enemies, but also irrevocably attached to his British friends. The Princely fly was firmly enmeshed in the British political web, and any hope of escape was idle”.1

  The princes responded to Wellesley’s offer in their own interest. To them, his offer of alliances was a beacon of hope, guaranteeing them a continuation of their rule, integrity of their territories and the prospect of their leading a carefree, luxurious life, in many cases licentious, in the seclusion of their palaces. For all this, the princes mortgaged their freedom, and were reduced to powerless stooges—impotent potentates.

  In 1947, the departing British left the princes forlorn— indeed orphaned—by terminating paramountcy prior to the transfer of power. They feared being swept off by the new winds of a revolutionary change in the wake of the transfer of power. Earlier, the princes had faced threats from their jagirdars and neighbouring princes; now they faced them from their restive subjects, who were determined to wipe off their autocratic rule—an anachronism in the new climate—in their overwhelming desire to join the mainstream of national life pulsating with the soaring aspirations of a free people. At such a critical moment, Patel came to the princes’ rescue by offering them a new honourable life in a democratic India as equal members of a free nation. He freed them from slavery in the proposed “Third Dominion” under the patronage of the Political Department.

  Like a kind shepherd, Patel brought them under his umbrella and adopted them as his own flock. His winning over their hearts was a great achievement at a personal level. His wisdom and far-sightedness were reflected in his directive to his aides: “Do not question the extent of the personal wealth claimed by them, and never ever confront the ladies of the household. I want their States—not their wealth.”2 Such was Patel’s judicious benevolence towards the princes. He had won their goodwill; even earned their gratitude

  and admiration.

  Mountbatten had special pride in telling Patel: “By far the most important achievement of the present Government is the unification of the States into the Dominion of India. Had you failed in this, the results would have been disastrous . . . Nothing has so added to the prestige of the present Government than the brilliant policy you have followed with the States.”3 During his visit to India in 1956, Soviet leader Khrushchev felt so overwhelmed by Patel’s achievement as to observe: “You Indians are an amazing people! How on earth did you manage to liquidate the Princely rule without liquidating the Princes?”4

  Patel was a democrat, very unlike the British imperialists who had built and ruled over their Indian Empire. One of them, Charles Napier, had declared in one of his “typical outbursts”: “No Indian Prince should exist. The Nizam should no more be heard of . . . Nepal would be ours.”5 Such Churchillian viciousness was alien to Patel’s Gandhian mind. Its loftiness lay in its purity of mind and actions: frank, judicious, and straightforward. He was equally inflexible, firm, and determined when the country’s interests were at stake. At the same time, none could have been gentler than he, to both, the Nawab of Bhopal who had conspired against India on behalf of Jinnah, and the Nizam of Hyderabad who waged a war, even when their subjects were predominantly Hindu. He liberated their people, without liquidating them. Rather, he welcomed them as honoured citizens of the new India he built.

  History will one day rank him with Ashoka and Akbar. Theirs were benevolent empires. Patel’s was a democratic people’s republic. A leading Socialist leader, Yusuf Meherally, had opined: “The Mahatma had found a lieutenant that those Emperors would have given a kingdom to get.”6

  Part II

  SUPPORTIVE ROLE

  8

  KASHMIR, TIBET AND NEPAL

  Mature and Farsighted Advice

  This section covers such subjects as were under Nehru’s direct charge and to which he was passionately devoted— even considering them his close preserve. Yet, Patel often rushed to Nehru’s aid whenever he needed his advice. That happened in the case of Kashmir, in spite of the state having been taken away from his charge; as also Tibet and Nepal. In all these, Patel’s advice proved mature and farsighted. Later-day developments convinced many that had such advice been followed, history might have been different.

  Patel went to Nehru’s help in April 1950 at the cost of his health, during his visit to Kolkata to calm down the storm of protest by the Bengalis over the atrocities committed on the Hindus in East Pakistan (now Bangladesh). Muslim rowdies had “plundered and burnt houses and attacked men, women and children . . . accompanied by the abduction and forcible conversion of Hindu women to Islam and desecration of Hindu places of worship . . . What happened in Dacca was repeated in many districts of East Bengal.”1

  In April 1950, Kolkata was seething with anger. Nehru could not have faced the people after signing a No-War Pact with the Pakistan prime minister, Liaquat Ali. Patel told Nehru, “We have had sufficient experience of the implementation of agreements with Pakistan. We have also a bitter taste of the protection which it affords to minorities . . . all preparations for war are being made.”2 At such a critical moment in Nehru’s life, Mountbatten pleaded with Patel: “You have for years been the ‘strong man’ of India. Wit
h your support Jawaharlal cannot fail. I do not believe there is one man in the country who would stand up to you when you make up your mind, so that the support which you are in a position to give him is a matter of highest international importance.”3

  Patel’s visit to Kolkata had a most soothing effect. It calmed down rebellious Bengalis. Nehru was saved from a crisis. Patel had ignored Nehru’s words, casting aspersions on the usefulness of their association, in his letter of 26 March 1950: “Lately, new developments . . . have made me doubt seriously whether this attempt at joint working serves a useful purpose, or whether it merely hinders the proper functioning of Government.” Patel had felt “personally pained and hurt”.4 Yet, that did not deter him from visiting Kolkata, where he had resounding success, much to Nehru’s relief. On his return began his last journey of life, which ended in his demise eight months later on 15 December 1950.

  Irrespective of Nehru’s doubts about his usefulness as a colleague, Patel, whom Mountbatten called the strongest pillar of the cabinet, never held himself back in offering Nehru his honest, pragmatic advice whenever sought, and rushed to his side whenever Nehru was in trouble. It mattered little to him if his advice was not implemented; he merely discharged his duty to his country. If he could surrender to Gandhi’s will in nominating Nehru as India’s first prime minister (discussed later), other things were trivial, of no consequence to him. For Patel, his country was uppermost; and his dedication, supreme.

  Saviour of Kashmir from Pakistani Raiders

  It was the beginning of November 1947. Extreme wintry conditions gripped the valley. The people of Srinagar could ward off biting cold by remaining indoors, and warming themselves with burning coal in their kangaris under their woollen overalls. But they faced another, far worse fate. Four miles outside the city limits, the Pakistan-backed tribal raiders were amassing for their final assault. People shivered with fear, awaiting with certainty the fate that had befallen Baramulla a few days earlier: large-scale looting, indiscriminate burning, brutal murder and rape of innocent women. All the victims were Muslims. Confident of the capture of Srinagar, Jinnah was at Abbotabad “expecting to ride in triumph into Kashmir”.1 A “personally outraged” Sheikh Abdullah felt tormented by “ancestral recollections of previous incursions up the same route”.2 Was history repeating itself? It would have, but for Patel’s timely help.

  At such a critical moment in Kashmir’s history, Patel arrived in Srinagar on 4 November to save the people from the ordeal they faced. He had brought with him the defence minister, Baldev Singh, so that his decisions could be given effect to without delay. The journey was hazardous. Weather was cruel. Conditions could deteriorate to render visibility poor. The plane could have moved into Pakistani territory, the air-passage between Jammu and Srinagar being so narrow. Consequences could have been serious. However, the landing was safe, and Patel immediately plunged into the job for which he had come: to assess the military requirements of the army. Conflicting reports from the valley had confounded New Delhi. This had upset Nehru so much as to make him say that “to receive two diverse reports on the situation in the Kashmir Valley over a matter of hours was more than he could tolerate”.3

  Patel moved to the control room for a briefing by Brigadier L. P. Sen, in charge of the 161 Brigade engaged in the operations. Sen has an interesting story to tell: “Sardar Patel had closed his eyes soon after I had begun the briefing, and I assumed that he was feeling the effects of air journey and had fallen asleep. The briefing completed, I looked at Sardar Baldev Singh and asked him a direct question, ‘Am I expected to eject the tribesmen from the Valley regardless of the fate that may befall Srinagar, or is the town to be saved?’ Sardar Patel stirred. The Tiger had not been asleep, and had heard every word of the briefing. A strong and determined man and one of few words. ‘Of course, Srinagar must be saved,’ he snapped. ‘Then I must have more troops, and very quickly . . . some artillery (as well).’ ‘I am returning to Delhi immediately,’ he said, ‘and you will get what you want as quickly as I can get them to you.’ . . . That evening I got a message that two battalions of infantry, one squadron of armoured cars and a battery of field artillery were being despatched to the Valley by road . . . Sardar Patel had lived up to his reputation as a man of action.”4 And, thus, Srinagar and the valley were saved from falling into the hands of the raiders.

  General Roy Bucher, the British commander-in-chief of the Indian Army, was opposed to Patel’s taking a great risk by flying to Srinagar. But Patel simply “ordered an aircraft . . . to be placed at his disposal.” Bucher conceded: “This flight did result in reinforcements being sent to Kashmir.”5 Earlier, immediately after the Maharaja’s accession to India on 26 October, the cabinet had to sanction airlifting of troops to Srinagar. Nehru, as usual, vacillated, worried by international opinion.

  According to Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw, then a brigadier in charge of military operations: “Panditji’s long exposition about accession of the State and the United Nations was cut short by the impatient Sardar Patel with the question: ‘Jawahar, do you care for Kashmir, or not?’ ‘Of course, I do,’ thundered Panditji. Sardar turned to me and said, ‘Go, you have your orders’.”6 And thus Patel put an end to such vacillation, and the airlifting took place the very next morning of the twenty-seventh. Delay would have helped Pakistan, not only to capture Srinagar, but to take over the whole state as constituted before the transfer of power. She would have had international support, as later events proved.

  The threat to the valley had thus been averted, though not Pakistan’s adventure. Patel was anxious to end that too. In November 1948, Patel was acting as prime minister while Nehru was away in Europe. He sent for Air Marshal Thomas Elmhirst, chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee, “to discuss a point relating to the Kashmir war”, and spoke to him thus: “If all the decisions rested on me, I think that I would be in favour of extending this little affair in Kashmir to a full-scale war with Pakistan . . . Let us get it over once and for all, and settle down as a united continent.”7

  A war between India and Pakistan was not in Mountbatten’s interest, nor in Britain’s. Both had a big hand in Pakistan’s creation; and they wanted its stability in order to keep alive balance of power in the sub-continent. Pre-Partition such balance was between the two communities—Hindus and Muslims; post-Partition, it was to be between the two independent countries—India and Pakistan. Mountbatten had warned Jinnah of the dangers he faced, when he told him, at his meeting with him in Lahore on 1 November 1947, that “war, whilst admittedly very harmful for India, would be completely disastrous for Pakistan and himself ”.8 He had no plenipotentiary powers to act on his own. Yet, he did, sure of the unstinting support of Nehru in the two steps he took: offer of plebiscite in Kashmir, and reference of Kashmir to the UNO.

  As Mountbatten admitted, the plebiscite idea was “entirely his”. He specially flew to Lahore on 1 November to make a personal offer to Jinnah. He was accompanied by no Indian leader. His only companion was Ismay, whom he wanted as a witness to his offer. Mountbatten had “drafted out” the proposal in the aeroplane during his flight to Lahore. He has also admitted that it was an offer that “I had not yet shown to my Government, but to which I thought they might agree”.9 This was despite the fact that earlier, at the cabinet meeting on 28 October, there was “strong resistance to the whole idea . . . comparisons were made with Neville Chamberlain’s visit to Hitler at Godesberg in 1938. Vallabhbhai Patel, in particular, made his opposition clear to the Governor-General”.10 Yet, an “unbriefed and unauthorised” Mountbatten offered plebiscite to Jinnah, and talked as “an ex-Viceroy who had a major hand in partitioning the country”.11 Jinnah called Mountbatten’s offer “redundant and undesirable . . . objected strongly to a plebiscite.”12 Yet, Mountbatten forced Nehru to honour his offer of plebiscite to Jinnah.

  Mountbatten’s forcing Nehru to refer Kashmir to the UNO early in January 1948 was far more serious than his offer of plebiscite to Jinnah. It sucked India into th
e vortex of international politics, making a solution far more complex and difficult. Mountbatten had a purpose in hastening Nehru to act. It had to be done before Patel’s return to New Delhi to avoid a repeat of Junagadh.

  On his return, Patel’s unofficial comment was: “Even a District Court pleader will not go as a complainant.” Later, he did not hesitate in telling the British under secretary of state, Arthur Henderson:

  Unfortunately, it is my experience that the attitude of an average Englishman in India is instinctively against us . . . we should never have gone to the UNO . . . at the UNO, not only has the dispute been prolonged but the merits of our case have been completely lost in the interaction of power politics . . . we were so terribly disappointed at the attitude of your delegation . . . it was, we maintain, the attitude of Noel Baker that tilted the balance against us. But for his lead, I doubt if the USA and some other powers would have gone against us.13

  In January itself, Nehru regretted to Patel that Kashmir “has been raised to an international level . . . by reference to the Security Council of the UN and most of the great powers are intensely interested in what happens in Kashmir”.14 A month later, Nehru admitted that the Kashmir issue “has given us a great deal of trouble . . . the attitude of the great powers has been astonishing. Some of them have shown active partisanship for Pakistan”.15 In May, Nehru wrote to Patel again: “We feel that we have not been given a square deal.”16 Kashmir worried Nehru so much that he lamented to Patel from Paris on 27 October: “This business of a plebiscite and the conditions governing it fills the people’s minds . . . people cannot get rid of the idea that Kashmir is predominantly Muslim and, therefore, likely to side with Muslim Pakistan.”17