A Nation in Making/Chapter 31

​31

Deputation of the Moderate Party to England, 1919

In due time the Report of the Franchise Committee was published; and we now applied ourselves to the task of organizing a deputation of the Moderate party to England. I had urged it a few months before, in my address as President of the first Moderate Conference. It was a supreme moment in the history of the Reforms. There were the enemies of Indian advancement like Lord Sydenham and others; there were the Indian Extremists playing into their hands; there were our own party, who were not satisfied with the Reforms and who wanted more. The whole atmosphere was charged with difference and discord. We felt it our clear duty to send a strong contingent to England, to support the Reforms so far as they were acceptable, and to press for their expansion where we thought necessary. I was the head of the Deputation; and among its members were Mr. Shastri, Mr. Samarth, Mr. Chintamani, Mr. Kamat, Mr. P. C. Roy, Mr. Chambers, Mr. Ram Chunder Rao, and Mr. K. C. Roy of the Associated Press. Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru joined us later. Mr. Samarth was the first to arrive in England. It is worthy of note that the Extremist party also had their Deputation. Mr. Patel was a member of the Congress Deputation. Mr. Tilak was in England in connexion with his case against Sir Valentine Chirol and he gave his evidence before the Joint Committee. Before he was examined as a witness, he had an interview with Mr. Montagu, and his extreme views with regard to the Reforms had already undergone a sensible modification in the light of his new surroundings. We had several Conferences with the Labour leaders, including Col. Wedgwood, lately a member of the Labour Government. They were all organized by Mrs. Besant, who was in close touch with them. She no longer held that the Reforms were 'unacceptable' or 'unworthy to be looked at. Between her views and ours there was general agreement, and she was a tower of strength to us in London. There was an afternoon party at Lady ​Lutyens' residence at which she and I and one or two others spoke on the Indian situation. It was a pleasant function, at which much sympathy was expressed for the Reforms. I saw Lord Southborough before I gave my evidence. We discussed the situation and the prospects of the Reforms; and they seemed to be hopeful. In the course of the conversation I suggested that our strongest witnesses should come last. Lord Southborough thought they should come first and create a favourable impression. I think his view was sound, and this was the course that was adopted. The official witnesses were first examined, Lord Meston being one of them. He had just vacated his office as Finance Minister to the Government of India, and represented its views.

The committee room where the Joint Committee sat, almost overlooking the Thames, used to be filled from day to day with an cager and expectant crowd of Indians, among whom there was to be seen a sprinkling of lady visitors. Such a display of colours and dresses, such a diversified array of representatives, all inspired by one idea and one hope, had perhaps never before been gathered together in that chamber. All India in miniature was there. It was not the pleasure of sightseeing that drew them. It was the intense interest in the theme, the momentous issues discussed, the under- lying consciousness that here in that little room, businesslike and unpretentious, ideas were developing which would materialize in a policy that for generations would shape the destinies of India. Lord Sydenham might say what he liked about the unfitness of India for self-rule; Extremists might denounce the Reforms as worthless; but here was an object-lesson significant and convincing in the silent but eloquent testimony it bore to the passionate ardour of our people for self-rule, and their interest in the Reforms. Among them were lawyers who had sacrificed princely incomes, at least tempo- rarily; there were orthodox Hindus, who, though swayed by social and religious ideas that interdicted sea-voyage, mustered from day to day in that committee room to hear the evidence and to note the temper of the Committee. All India was there, and from afar the proceedings were watched with breathless interest by the millions of an expectant people.

Lord Selborne, the Chairman, was of course the central figure, and occupied the place of honour. Calm, dignified, fair to every witness and to all interests, he conducted the proceedings with judicial impartiality. I confess I had a prejudice against him at the ​first start. He was Governor of South Africa, and South Africa stinks in the nostrils of every patriotic Indian for its anti-Indian policy. It is possible that the Governor, being the chief of a self- governing community, has little or nothing to do with the policy followed. But it is difficult to dissociate a policy from the head of the State. Public opinion is not always nice in its discriminations, but it carries everything before it, by its massiveness and weight. I further remembered that the suggestion of a Joint Parliamentary Committee emanated from him; and we all condemned it. I think we were premature in forming this adverse opinion. The Joint Committee was indeed helpful to Indian interests and the cause of the Reforms.

Next to the Chairman, the most 'striking figure on that Committee was Mr. Montagu. The Committee was his own; and at its open meetings he had a masterful hand in shaping its proceedings. His cross-examination was searching and effective; hostile witnesses writhed under it. One witness, a lawyer and an ex-Indian judge, was reduced to pulp, and he had to admit that, being away in the country, he had not studied all the papers. Lord Sinha inspired confidence. His demeanour was quiet and dignified. His examination and cross-examination of the witnesses was that of the practised lawyer: no offence was given, but the witness was sometimes turned inside out. The general attitude of the members of the Committee was friendly, except that of Lord Sydenham, and Lord Midleton was disposed to follow him, though at a distance. I once thought of interviewing the latter, but i gave up the idea, as the members of the Committee were in one sense judges, called to decide upon evidence before them.

The number of witnesses examined was quite large, and after a time they were examined in batches of three or four. The usual procedure was for the witness to make an oral statement, and then be examined upon it by the members of the Committee, one after another. I was not examined upon my statement either by Mr. Montagu or Lord Sinha. I was somewhat shortly cross-examined by Mr. Ben Spoor, a Labour member. He evidently had been primed by some members of the Congress Deputation. I was asked whether I had not moved a Resolution in the Congress fixing a time-limit within which responsible government was to be established. The object apparently was to convict me of contradiction, as my evidence before the Committee did not support the idea of ​a time-limit. I said in reply, 'Assuming that it was so, was I not at liberty to revise my opinion in the light of new conditions?' The point was not further pursued. Lord Sydenham was not present on the day that I was examined, so I missed his cross-examination. Mr. Tilak's examination lasted for a very short time. He made his statement, but was not cross-examined at all. This was quite unusual; and I think it was disappointing to Mr. Tilak himself. For, whatever might have been our differences, we all felt that Mr. Tilak was quite capable of supporting his views with judgment and ability. I am afraid Mr. Tilak was not persona grata with the British public, and his failure in his case added to whatever prejudice there was against him. Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru arrived late. His examination was necessarily short; he rendered yeoman service in securing the recognition of University Education among the Transferred Sub- jects. On the whole, I think that the witnesses of our Deputation acquitted themselves very creditably in their examination. A mem- ber of the Joint Committee told me a few days after we had been examined, 'You created an excellent impression but subsequently there was a set-back.' He mentioned names of those whose evidence had produced a bad impression, but I need not repeat them.

There was no point about which Indian witnesses of all shades of opinion were more emphatic and insistent than the introduction of responsibility into the Central Government; and, now that we have had the experience of the working of the Provincial Councils with some measure of responsibility, and of the Legislative Assem- bly without any, the soundness of this view is enforced with added weight. Responsibility has always a sobering effect upon a legislative body, even in respect of departments not under its immediate control, by creating a general atmosphere of sobriety. There must of course be 'die-hards' in every Council, but even they cannot but be infected with the prevailing temper of their colleagues, unless indeed a regular campaign has been organized for obstruc- tion, or for wrecking, of which unfortunately we have had recent experience in Bengal and in the Central Provinces.

My own impression is that some of the difficulties that are now being experienced by the Central Government in dealing with the Legislative Assembly would have altogether disappeared or have been considerably minimized, if the view urged by the Indian witnesses had been accepted. The concession will have to be made sooner or later. Bis dat qui cito dat; and it would have been true wisdom to have acted upon this principle from the first. The truth ​embodied in the legend of the Sibylline books finds daily illustration in the timidity of governments willing to move, but over-cautious about the pace. If courage is a fine quality in the individual, it is the sovereign attitude of governments when tempered with prudence. There is hardly a more remarkable illustration of it in the records of British statesmanship than in Lord Durham's proposals for the reconstitution of the Canadian Government; and the Montagu-Chelmsford Scheme is on the whole a courageous advance in the same direction.

There is one point upon which considerable stress was laid in the examination of the witnesses. It was suggested in the Despatch of the Government of India that there should be a separate purse for the transferred departments. The point was urged with emphasis by Lord Meston in his evidence. The Indian witnesses were all opposed to it. Many of us felt that it would stereotype a distinction that was only transitional, and delay the transformation of the reserved into transferred departments, which we all desired and which the Reforms aimed at. The idea was not accepted by the Joint Committee and finds no place in the Reform Scheme. I cannot however help remarking that there is a growing body of feeling in favour of it, due largely to the financial difficulties of the reformed Governments and the belief that a separate purse would be a more effective protection of the financial interests of the transferred departments than what is provided under the existing conditions.

In Bengal, a large percentage of the revenues of the province is absorbed in expenditure on the reserved departments, leaving only about 34 to 35 per cent to be spent on what have aptly been called the nation-building departments. It is a legacy from the past, but it has seriously interfered with the growth and development of the province in many useful directions. Sanitation, primary education, agriculture and the industries, all suffer for the sake of departments which, however useful and even essential, contribute but indirectly towards the national well-being. The maintenance of law and order is indeed the first condition of stable progress; but the Indian patriot may well complain that, in laying the foundations, the national resources are exhausted for the adequate upbuilding of the superstructure. So strong is the feeling on the subject that on one occasion nearly the whole of the police grant was disallowed by the Bengal Legislative Council, and was restored only on further reconsideration and after discussion with the Governor.

​The Montagu-Chelmsford Report had recommended that a Parliamentary Commission should come out to India five years after the scheme had been in operation, with a view to reporting upon its working and recommending its revision, if necessary. The period was extended by the parliamentary statute to ten years. From the Indian point of view, this seemed to be too long, and the restoration of the original period was urged. This was not accepted by the Joint Committee. I think it would have been wiser, even from the official point of view, to have adhered to the original proposal; for it would probably have averted the agitation for the immediate grant of full provincial autonomy which now finds favour with a large section of the Indian community. A quinquennium is not too short a period, even at the rate at which things are now progressing in India, and public opinion would have been content to wait without clamour when the prospect of a change was in sight and within so short a time. It was a mistake to have departed from a recommendation that held out the hope of an early advance. Diarchy was a novel experiment, and to many it seemed risky, and the prospect of an early limitation of its scope with its speedy disappearance in the near future would have had a soothing effect upon public opinion. However, that was not to be, and the original proposal was modified, despite the protests of the Indian witnesses.

It was indeed evident that diarchy did not commend itself to every member of the Joint Committee, nor did it seem to be quite acceptable to British public opinion. I had the opportunity of discussing the question with an important member of the British Press, who was by no means unfriendly to Indian aspirations, and had certainly no desire to embarrass the Government. I think I was able to convince him that, whatever might be the defects of the system from the critical standpoint, there was no escape from it in view of the Declaration of August 20, 1917. Responsible government was to be the end and aim of British rule in India, and in the terms of the message it was to be attained by progressive stages. The full measure of it was not to be granted at once: the evolution must take place step by step, until the final stage was reached. There was to be an experimental period, during which certain departments were to be transferred to ministers responsible to the Legislature and to a popular electorate, as preparatory to the grant of a full measure of responsible government. It was to be responsible government in part, or no responsible government at all. Mr. Montagu had, in the name of the British Government, ​promised the former at the first start; and to depart from it on the ground that it was impracticable, without having tried it, would be, in the words of Lord Ronaldshay and his Government, a breach of faith.

It was this argument which I think proved the decisive factor in determining the decision of the Committee and of the waverers among the British public. A pledge had been given in the name of the British democracy, and there could be no going back upon it. It has to be borne in mind that the Indian bureaucracy, with exceptions here and there, were opposed to diarchy. Five of the local Governments had recorded despatches against it, as an undesirable and impracticable system. Bengal and Behar were the only two Governments that supported it, and the Moderate party did so in their evidence before the Joint Committee; not that they were enamoured of it, or would not have gone further in their endeavour to liberalize the Government, but they felt that without their support the boon that had been promised would be lost, and the prospects of responsible government indefinitely postponed.

But while the Joint Committee were carrying on their work, in that peaceful and quiet chamber overlooking the Thames, the educated community in India were convulsed by one of those agitations that follow in the track of misgovernment. It was the fruit of the disastrous policy pursued by Sir Michael O'Dwyer in the Punjab. The deportation of Dr. Kitchlew and Mr. Satya Pal, the popular upheaval at Amritsar, followed by serious breaches of the peace, the martial law proceedings and the horrors of the Jallianwallabagh, kindled a conflagration throughout India which it will take many years to allay. It penetrated north, south, cast and west, and for a time stirred the hearts of all, and invested the Reforms with a sinister hue. Lord Chelmsford wanted a calm atmosphere for their discussion. The proceedings of the Punjab Government created an atmosphere, not only in the Punjab, but throughout India, surcharged with the spirit of bitterness and resentment; and the feeling reacted, with more or less intensity, upon the deputations now in England. A public meeting was held, at which some of the members of the Labour party were present. Mr. Montagu was approached, and the Moderate party had more than one conference with him. It was we who urged an open enquiry and suggested the names of the Indian commissioners. We realized the gravity of the situation in India, and we counselled according to our lights.

​Here there was no difference between Moderates and Extremists, except perhaps in regard to details. The sense of indignation at the proceedings of the Punjab Government was universal throughout India, and was shared by our countrymen residing in England. It is a matter of regret that the Despatch of the Secretary of State was not more thorough in its sense of disapproval, and more emphatic in its tone of condemnation; and the situation was aggravated by the subsequent debate in the House of Lords. Time is a great mollifier; but the sore has not yet healed; and the poison still lurks in the subterranean depths of the public consciousness in the Punjab, with its sympathetic reaction upon other provinces. It comes to the surface when contributory circumstances wake old memories. It is a grave warning to the rulers of men, of the incalculable mischief of wrongdoing in all high matters of State. Injustice truly revenges itself with compound interest. That is the writing on the wall for statesman to read and profit by.

There were other activities, outside the immediate sphere of the Deputation, in which I had to take part. The Secretary of State appointed me a member of a committee to enquire into and report upon the institutions of Local Self-government in England as regards their applicability to Indian conditions. My colleagues were all members of the Indian Civil Service who were on leave in England. I got on very well with them. They were kind, courteous and sympathetic to the only non-official member of the Committee and tried to help me. Among them were Mr. Lindsay, late Magistrate of the 24-Parganas, Mr. Clarke, Commissioner in the Central Provinces, and Mr. Allen of the Assam Commission. My duties, as a member of the Deputation, prevented my giving as much time to work of the Committee as I should have liked. But I attended several of its meetings and the conferences held in connexion with its work. I visited Birmingham and saw the wonderful sewerage outfall of the town, which I was told cost two millions sterling. We went all over the works and did not perceive the faintest trace of a bad smell in the place. I discussed with the engineer in charge the question of effluents discharged into the Hugli from the septic tanks in the mill areas. He was of opinion that, however much they might be sterilized, they must contribute to the pollution of the river water. He condemned it as a bad system.

In due time, the Committee submitted its Report. I signed it, subject to a supplementary note in which I strongly urged the formation of a Local Government Board in each province in India. ​The note was circulated among the different Governments. With the exception of the Governments of Assam and of the Central Provinces, they were all against the proposal.

There is only one other matter to which I should like to make a passing allusion, as indicating the many-sided activities of our Deputation in London. We waited in deputation on Mr. Montagu in connexion with the question of the status and treatment of Indians in the Colonies. Mr. Polak, that indefatigable friend of the Indians in the Overseas Dominions, organized the Deputation. I was the nominal spokesman; he read the statement, which was drawn up by him; and among our European friends present were Sir John Rees and Sir William Meyer. I need hardly add that Mr. Montagu returned a sympathetic reply.

While in England I was asked to preside over a meeting of the Mohamedan residents in connexion with the Khilafat question, for I entirely sympathized with the demand of the Indian Mohamedans for its settlement, on lines in conformity with the declaration of the Prime Minister (Mr. Lloyd George). This has now, to a great extent, been achieved, thanks to the insistence of the Government of India backed by public opinion in India and reinforced by the military triumphs of Kemal Pasha.

In 1919 I had often to be at the India Office in connexion with my work. I found the atmosphere of the India Office very different now from what it was in my early days, say in 1874 or 1897. Within the precincts of that temple of bureaucracy, quite a new spirit seemed to move, charged with the invigorating breath of democracy. I felt, though certainly in a less degree than I did in Writers' Buildings when I was a Minister, that somehow or other the place seemed to be our own. It had been Indianized in spirit, if not in personnel. Everybody seemed willing to serve and to oblige. Dark skin was not a disqualification, but a passport. The stiffness of the bureaucratic mien was not there. Mr. Bhupendra Nath Basu was probably the central force in bringing about this transformation, aided by the masterful personality of Mr. Montagu and the new spirit which the Reforms had generated. Mr. Basu's room was the rendezvous of the Indians, their baitakkhana (an untranslatable word). An Indian having any business at Whitehall or in the neighbourhood would tumble into his room, stay for a few minutes, and relieve the strain of London life by a quiet chat with its occupant, who was all things to all men in the best sense—ready to advise and to assist. My relations with him were closer ​than those of many others, but he was the protector of the Indian community in general, and of the Bengalees in particular. His aid was often sought and readily given.

One of the most frequent of these visitors was perhaps Mr. Kedarnath Das-Gupta, a native of the district of Chittagong in Bengal, but now settled in London, organizing plays and amusements; and familiarizing the British public with the characteristic incidents in the life of ancient India. In the colossal life of Imperial London, his individuality and power of organization are lost. He is a walking chart of London. Tell him the street and the number of the house you want to go to, and he will take you there, perhaps more quickly and cheaply than even the omniscient London cabdriver. Sleepless in his activities and in his desire to serve others, Kedarnath Das-Gupta is a familiar figure to the Bengalees in London, and is loved and esteemed by all who know him. He was my guide, philosopher and friend, amid the bewildering facilities of communication that London presents to the newcomer. And you are a newcomer, although you may have been in London half a dozen times in your life, so rapid are the transformations in its topography, thanks to the swift-moving machinery of its system of local government.

These lines were written when Mr. Bhupendra Nath Basu was still in our midst. He died on September 16, 1924, mourned by all who knew him, leaving a gap in the ranks of our public life that it would be difficult to fill. For strength of conviction, for clearness of vision, for tact and judgment in handling affairs, he stood preeminent among the public men of his generation. He took to politics early in life, and enrolled himself as a volunteer in the first Calcutta Congress of 1886. A volunteer is not a delegate, though under recent Swarajist tactics he is sometimes elevated to that dignity as at Seraigunge, to swell the number of Swarajist votes. But the young volunteer, the newest recruit in the service of the Congress, had the Field-Marshall's baton concealed in his knapsack, and in 1914 became the President of the Indian National Congress. Once thrown into the whirlpool of political life, he was drawn into its deepest currents, and was closely identified, as a leading personality, with our all great public movements. He was one of the central figures in the anti-Partition and the Swadeshi movements of 1905. In 1906, when I was arrested at Barisal, he was placed in charge of the Conference proceedings. In 1909, when I was in England, he presided over the boycott celebration of August 7 of ​that year, despite high official pressure. In 1916 he was elected a member of the Imperial Legislative Council, and in the following year he was selected by Lord Chelmsford to fill a vacancy in the India Council. He came out to India with Mr. Montagu's Deputation in connexion with the Reform Scheme, and rendered valuable service as a member of that Deputation. He was again in India as a member of the Lee Commission, and was, a few months before his death, appointed a member of the Executive Council of the Governor of Bengal.

Throughout his life, he was a moderate in politics and consistently opposed the cult and creed of Non-Co-operation, which he regarded, with many others, as fraught with peril to the best interests of his country. I hope the day is not distant when Bengal will raise a pantheon dedicated to her great men. Such an institution will be an honour to the dead, and an incentive to the living. In that temple of peace and reconciliation, where all feuds will be forgotten, and where will commingle the spirits of the great dead, Bhupendra Nath Basu will find a high and honoured place.