The following is an excerpt from 565: The Dramatic Story of Unifying India, published by Hachette India.
‘I believe the nawab of Bhopal has resigned as chancellor of the Chamber of Princes.’ Nehru linked his hands behind him as they walked out of the viceroy’s rectangular office into the expansive Mughal Gardens outside.
‘I was sorry to hear of his decision,’ said the viceroy. Of all his friends in India, the viceroy counted Jawahar as the dearest; Hamidullah came in a close second. ‘I accepted it with great regret.’
‘I also believe,’ noted Nehru grimly, ‘that, as soon as paramountcy ends, Bhopal proposes to become independent.’
‘565: The Dramatic Story of Unifying India’, Mallika Ravikumar, Hachette India, 2024.
Lord Mountbatten nodded, his eyes scanning the garden’s blossoming flowers. ‘That is what I have been given to understand…’
‘Tell me,’ Nehru said, ‘are trains to stop when they cross state boundaries? Or is the postal system not to operate in the states?’
The viceroy’s brow furrowed.
‘The states are not geographically isolated.’ Nehru shrugged. ‘Their boundaries criss-cross with the rest of India. I fail to understand how they can be allowed to become independent. Is it not apparent how many difficulties that would cause?’
The viceroy said nothing as they approached the terraces bursting with colourful climbers and shrubs, recalling Nehru’s eruption only weeks earlier over the issue, when he had accused the viceroy’s political adviser of misfeasance.
‘It is impossible for us to admit the right of any state to independence,’ stated Nehru, the sweet birdsong in the garden doing little to calm his frayed nerves. ‘Impossible for us to allow them to do just what they will. While we are willing to deal with them in as friendly a manner as possible, we simply cannot admit their declaring independence – as Bhopal clearly intends to do,’ he carped, angered by the nawab’s persistent attempts to sway the princely states into his camp. ‘It will affect all of India’s administration and defence, not to mention create a host of other problems.’
‘Look,’ said the viceroy, ‘I have made every effort to convince Hamidullah of the folly of his actions—’
‘There are so many common matters,’ Nehru interrupted him, ‘the railways, customs, posts, telegraph, food distribution… The political department under your office is the only link between the Centre and the states,’ he stressed. ‘Now, if the states start declaring themselves independent just as the political department begins to wind up, won’t there be chaos? Innumerable pockets will be created within India. The country will splinter into pieces…not to mention all the various illegal activities, such as smuggling, it would give rise to.’
Mountbatten walked on in silence. Three months ago, when he had reluctantly taken charge as India’s last viceroy, he had been aware of the formidable task he had taken on but hadn’t quite realized that the princely states were going to give him such a headache.
‘The policy of the political department has made us very uneasy,’ said Nehru candidly, seething over the news that great bonfires were being lit across the country to destroy secret records of the maharajas. ‘The department is covertly setting ablaze the confidential files of the Indian royalty, winding up residencies and transferring forces to the princes. And now the princes are being encouraged to declare their independence,’ he protested. ‘Their actions seem deliberately intended to break up the unity of India and introduce anarchy by the back door. If I may borrow Winston Churchill’s words,’ he said, ‘it deserves to be labelled “Operation Scuttle”!’
‘Now, now,’ remarked the viceroy pacifyingly, ‘the political department has proposed that each state deal directly with the Government of India to sort out these matters.’
‘That is a truly extraordinary proposal,’ Nehru said, rolling his eyes. ‘Every department of the Government of India will be flooded with hundreds of letters from hundreds of states! How can one permit an entire administrative structure dealing with such vast and complicated matters to be wound up all of sudden?’ he demanded, baffled by such unfeasible ideas.
The viceroy, no great friend of Corfield himself, gave Nehru a patient ear. It was no secret that, behind his back, the political department was shoring up the princes, fanning their monarchic pretensions and aspirations of sovereignty. Some of the princes, on their part, were expanding their armies, openly buying arms and stacking up military supplies.
‘It seems clear to me,’ said Nehru, ‘that some mechanism will be required to deal with the states if we are to avoid descending into complete and utter chaos. You need to give your urgent attention to this matter, else, I’m afraid, it’s going to lead to a great deal of friction.’
While neither chaos nor friction were in short supply in those challenging times, Nehru’s persistent complaints would soon fructify into a special unit called the States Department (later named the States Ministry). Placed under the charge of the tenacious Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel and the indefatigable Vappala Pangunni Menon, the department would then embark upon a historical journey of corralling, not just Bhopal but more than 500 princely states – some reticent, some pliant, some belligerent – into the Indian Union.
And to accomplish this mammoth task, they would have a little under fifty days.
Mallika Ravikumar is winner of the Atta Galatta Bangalore Literature Festival Award for Best Children’s Fiction 2023, and the Binod Kanoria Children’s Book Award 2023 in the Young Adult category. Ravikumar is a lawyer turned writer.
