A Nation in Making/Chapter 36

​36

Diarchy

I have referred perhaps at some length to my work as a Minister, not so much for personal reasons as for the vindication of the Reforms. The cry has been raised, and this time within the precincts of the Council Chambers, that the Reforms are moonshine and that diarchy has been a dead failure. It is in one sense the renewal of an old attack. When the Reform Scheme was first published, and indeed on the eve of its publication, it was fiercely assailed by Extremist politicians. It was in an atmosphere critical and even hostile that the Reforms were launched into operation. The Meston award seriously handicapped their working; and financial stringency stood in the way of the inauguration and expansion of beneficent schemes of education, sanitation and industrial development. The attack has been renewed after the first term of the Legislative Councils with the added cry that diarchy has failed. Diarchy is the essence of the new system, and, if it is once conceded that it has not been successful, the Reforms must go, at least in their present form; and one of two things must happen, either the concession of complete autonomous government or a reversal to the old bureaucratic system. Whether it should be the one or the other must depend upon the judgment of Parliament.

What the final decision of Parliament is to be, we cannot anticipate. But Parliament and the British democracy have clearly indicated their views upon the grave issue of responsible government for India. Of course, they may change. I hope they will, in favour of a fresh advance. But, from all that we know of the English people, it may be safely assumed that they will not change in a hurry. And, when they do change, they stick to the old traditions and put on the old garb, as in the great Revolution of 1688. The preamble to the Government of India Act of 1919 (which is a parliamentary statute) provides that responsible government is the end and aim of British rule and that it is to be attained by progressive stages. The Act also provides that after 1929 a Parliamentary Commission is to make an enquiry and report upon what ​further changes in the constitution may be necessary. All these preliminaries are laid down with a view to giving effect to the message of August 20, 1917.

It will thus be seen that the British Parliament and democracy are definitely pledged to the introduction and progressive expansion of responsible government, the full measure of which will be conceded only after a trial of ten years. The immediate grant of full-fledged responsible government therefore goes beyond the declared policy of Parliament. Are they likely to be hustled into a change of this policy under the pressure of obstructionist tactics? That has never been the traditional attitude of a British Parliament; and the great organs of English opinion have strongly condemned the obstructionist methods that are being followed in some of the Legislatures, declaring that they are calculated to prolong rather than shorten the period of probation. If these obstructionist tactics inside the Councils are a prelude to revolutionary methods outside, by inflaming the minds of the masses, they are intelligible and perhaps logical; otherwise they are futile and meaningless. They will not wreck the Government, but may deprive it of its popular element, and a return to the old bureaucratic system may be the outcome of presistence in this policy. The obstructionists may temporarily pose as heroes who have defied an autocratic Government, but they will leave behind them for their countrymen the bitter harvest of their sinister activities. That has already been the result in Bengal and the Central Provinces. In this connexion, it may not be out of place to quote a few lines from the letter of a revolutionary produced in the Cawnpore cases, reports of which have appeared in the newspapers. The letter says:

Thus Revolution and the breaking up of the Councils go together in the opinion of this revolutionary writer.

In this onslaught upon diarchy, the fundamental conditions, subject to which diarchy found a place in the Reform Scheme, seem to have been ignored. Nobody, not even its supporters, were enamoured of diarchy, many were frankly doubtful of its success. At best it was a tentative beginning, the first starting-point of a great experiment. I said in my evidence before the Joint Parliamentary Committee: 'We (and here I was speaking on behalf of the National Liberal Federation) support diarchy, not because it is ​an ideal system, but because it seems to be the only feasible system for giving effect to the message of August 20, 1917. It provides for Responsible Government at the first start, and it brings Responsible Government within sight by providing progressive stages, and therefore we support it.'

I recognize that in the attack now made upon diarchy several ex-Ministers and prominent leaders of the Liberal or Moderate party have joined. One may differ from them, but no one can call their motives in question. They supported diarchy at the first start. They have now turned against it. Their assault, however, stands upon a different footing from that of the Swarajists, who are out to wreck the Reforms, and are not scrupulous as to the means that they employ. The late Secretary of State, Lord Olivier, despite the restraints of his official position, felt constrained to charge their leaders with intrigue, bribery and corruption. However much we may admire the organization of the Swarajists, we must wholeheartedly condemn their tactics, and scan with scrupulous care their political shibboleths and their resonant war-cries. In August, 1923, when the question of Ministerial salaries came on for discussion before the Bengal Legislative Council, a member who was to have recorded his vote in favour of the Ministers was besieged in his house by a Swarajist crowd, and by a sheer demonstration of force prevented from attending the meeting. The newspapers publish particulars of definite sums given for abstention from the recording of votes. The dominance of the Swarajists has demoralized the public life of Bengal. The purity of the past is gone. Force and fraud have become determining factors in deciding public issues.

Has diarchy then so hopelessly failed, beyond the possibility of correction or improvement within the period still left to it for trial, that it must forthwith be given up? Or has it been so completely successful that further trial in the progressive stages is no longer necessary? The last point has not been raised. It is attacked because it is said to have been a failure, a hopeless failure due to radical defects in the system. The point needs examination. I cannot say that diarchy has failed in Bengal. It would have been more successful if we did not suffer from financial stringency, and if we were not encumbered by the stepmotherly attentions of the Finance Department. It is the Meston award and the Finance Department that between them checked some of the beneficent activities of the department of which I was in charge.

This is not the place in which to enter into a discussion of the ​financial considerations involved, but the Meston award perpetrated a grave injustice by depriving Bengal of one half of the proceeds of the income-tax, which it formerly had, and by diverting the whole of the yield of the jute tax, which is peculiar to Bengal, to the coffers of the Imperial Government. In Bengal it would be difficult to raise the cry of the failure of the Reforms if we had more money and could liberally distribute it among the nation- building departments, such as Sanitation, Education and the Industries. I know as a matter of fact that several schemes of water- supply for the riparian municipalities were ready, but could not be started, because there was no money, and the new taxes imposed did not yield the surplus that was expected, and upon the basis of which we could have raised a loan for water-supply and anti- malarial operations. Funds were not forthcoming and our activities were crippled.

Where we could get on without money, we were not hampered by a diarchical form of Government. In the matter of legislation and of public appointments my department made a notable advance. The number of municipalities vested with the right of electing their Chairmen was increased. A bill was introduced into the Bengal Legislative Council liberalizing the constitution of the mofussil municipalities. The constitution of the Local Boards, which deal with the institutions of Local Self-government in the rural areas of a sub-division, was broadened, and they now have the right of electing their own non-official chairmen. When I assumed office there were five District Boards which did not enjoy the right of electing their Chairmen. This privilege was conceded to them. But the most advanced piece of municipal legislation during my tenure of office was the enactment of the Calcutta Municipal Law. It democratized the constitution of the Corporation of Calcutta, the second city in the Empire. In other departments too there has been an advance as circumstances have permitted. A tree is judged by its fruits. How is it possible, in the face of these facts, to say, with anything like regard for truth, that diarchy has been a failure in the departments I controlled?

The success of a diarchy seems to me to depend largely upon the atmosphere created in the Secretariat in which it has to work. It depends upon the goodwill and the hearty co-operation of the Governor, the members of the Executive Council in charge of the reserved side, and of the permanent officials of the various depart- ments. It is the Governor who gives the cue, the first and ruling ​impulse; the members of the Executive Council must sympatheti- cally respond; and the permanent officials must follow their lead. It was this condition of things, this atmosphere, that was established in Bengal from the start of the Reforms. Both Lord Ronaldshay and Lord Lytton were statesmanlike in their attitude of sympathy and help, and stood by the Ministers with their generous support. They acted as constitutional sovereigns and made no distinction between Members and Ministers. Possibly their experience of English public life helped them, and members of the Executive Council, in their turn, made no distinction between themselves and their ministerial colleagues. Goodwill was the predominating note; it was coupled with the practical recognition of an equal status.

The Government thus formed on the whole a happy family, despite differences of opinion inseparable from the discussion of public affairs. Of heated conflict and collision we had little or none; and in our discussions we had not much of the taste of the alleged evils of diarchy. A sweet reasonableness, dominated by the spirit of compromise, was the prevailing feature of our deliberations. During Lord Lytton's time the Government, as a whole, would often meet to discuss questions on the reserved side. Here we had no responsibility; we could only give our opinion, and our colleagues on the reserved side were under no obligation to follow our advice, and sometimes they did not even consult us. But our position was rendered difficult by our being held responsible for what have been called the repressive measures. The Joint Parlia- mentary Committee absolved us from all responsibility in regard to them. All the same, our critics would fasten responsibility upon us, for it afforded them an opportunity for attacking us. Our lips were sealed, we could not reply: chivalry had no place in these attacks. Our silence was interpreted as acquiescence, and the campaign of vilification went on apace.

I remember the Ministers being attacked at a Town Hall meeting for an act of the Executive Government in regard to which they were not consulted and the Government was not bound to consult them. The irresponsibility of some of the speakers—and they were supposed to be men of light and leading—went so far that they demanded our resignation, forgetting that the law provided a machinery for compelling us to resign, through a vote of censure of the Legislative Council, when we were guilty of any serious dereliction of duty in regard to any matter for which we were ​responsible. The extraordinary feature of the meeting was that, not the members of the Executive Council who passed the order, but the Ministers who did not, were summoned to retire. Such was the even-handed justice done to Ministers in India charged with great affairs of State.

The instance affords illustration of the mentality of some of those who have so glibly condemned diarchy in Bengal, and of the atmosphere in which it was condemned. To me it seems that it is the old cry in a new garb raised by some of the Extremists, 'Down with the Reforms!' The old cry would now have failen flat. It was necessary in the interests of the game to refurbish and rehabilitate it. The resignation of some Ministers in different parts of India and their evidence added to its weight. Let me not be misunderstood. I do not for one moment mean to assert that diarchy is an ideal system, or that it is anything but a temporary expedient. I do not know sufficient of the condition of things in the other provinces, but I claim for Bengal that diarchy has done useful work and would probably have done more if we had not suffered from financial stringency.

I would refer to the Calcutta Municipal Act, which has demo- cratized the municipal constitution of Calcutta. Apart from its merits, even from the Swarajist point of view it must be a good Act, for they have largely availed themselves of it, not indeed with a view to destroying, but to working it. Their acceptance of office under it is evidence of their approval of the measure. I wonder with what consistency or even show of fairness they can condemn diarchy, the system that gave them this Act. The very men who are loud in their professions of dislike and hatred for the Government have occupied positions which are departments of that Government and subject to that Government's control. I hold that it would not be consistent with the facts of the case to say that diarchy has failed in Bengal as far as its own legitimate business is concerned.

Let us probe the matter a little further. What about the various administrative measures, for the Indianization of the Services in Bengal, that have been inaugurated under a diarchical Government? What about the reduction of Indian Medical Service appointments in Bengal from forty-two to twenty-four? What about the impetus to the establishment of medical schools in the mofussil, and to the study of Ayurvedic medicine? What about the advance in Local Self-government in every department under the diarchy? Lastly, ​what about the transformation of the atmosphere in the various departments of the transferred subjects, in Sanitation, Local Self- government, Medical relief, and other branches?

The real difficulty about diarchy is that it depends upon the un- certainties of the personal element, which may vary in the different provinces, and in the same province from time to time, and against which no rules and no hard and fast convention can afford adequate protection. Further, it may often set up two divergent and even conflicting interests (the reserved and transferred), which must interfere with that homogeneity and solidarity which is the truest guarantee of efficiency, and which in the long run secures public approbation. Lastly, so far as one can judge, educated public opinion condemns it; and no popular institution can in these days thrive without the support of public opinion. I would therefore support the recommendation in the Montagu-Chelmsford Report that after five years a Parlimentary Commission should be sent out to report on the whole situation.

Diarchy should go as quickly as possible, not because it has been a failure everywhere, but because public opinion does not want it. But in any case full provincial autonomy cannot be given without the necessary safeguards. We must have liberty, but not licence. Licence is the mother of revolutions. The freest institutions must be subject to the necessary checks, provided by statute, or by rules, or by conventions. The English constitution is thus safeguarded against the risks incidental to all human institutions, and England is the mother of parliaments, furnishing the model to all parliament- ary institutions. I recognize that there is a possible risk of the loss of efficiency; but we must face it, for good government is no substitute for self-government.

The real danger is the domination of the Swarajist party. They have been tried in constructive statesmanship and administration, and they have failed. Their methods are selfish and unscrupulous. They have in the administration of the Corporation subordinated the general weal to party interests. In the large concerns of the province there is no guarantee that the same principles and the same objectives will not guide them. In their case power, instead of exercising a sobering influence, has generated a dangerous intoxica- tion. But a party that does not make righteousness the guiding impulse of its policy cannot long remain in power. Therein lies the hope of the future of self-government. The divine gift of self​government has in it the seeds of its own self-preservation and self- correction.

Almost from the very moment that the Bengal Legislative Council was constituted the Extremist Press raised the cry for a reduction of the salaries of the Ministers. It was taken up with greedy avidity by disappointed ministerial office-seekers. There were 140 members, and among them only three were to be Ministers. The more ambitious among the remainder were dissatis- fied. One of these gentlemen told me, almost immediately after the formation of the Council, that he would have the Ministers dis- missed or their salaries reduced in three months' time. Many three months passed within the specified time of three years—the life- time of the Council. But the Ministers were not dismissed nor their salaries reduced. The Council was dissolved. My friend retired to his constituency for their suffrages. They were not particularly charmed with his shibboleth. They would not have him. He with- drew into private life, a dissatisfied man, and went back to the contentious wranglings of his great profession.

In connexion with this controversy, a curious fact comes to light, which so far has not been explained, and which without sufficient explanation would afford an unfortunate commentary upon the consistency and soundness of certain phases of Indian public opinion. On the eve of the enactment of the Reforms Act, in 1919, Indian opinion of every shade and complexion was unani- mous in demanding that the status and emoluments of the popular Minister should be the same as those of Members of the Executive Council; but, as soon as the Act was passed and the Councils were constituted with popular Ministers in charge of the transferred departments, a demand was put forth in every Council for a reduc- tion of their salaries, while keeping intact the salaries of the Mem- bers of the Executive Councils, which were not subject to the vote of the Legislative Council. The movement was universal and persistent; and was engineered by the Extremist Press. It had its roots partly in personal feeling and partly in the triumph of the Moderate party, which had successfully secured the passage of the Reforms through Parliament in the face of strenuous Extremist opposition. In the Bengal Legislative Council there were five motions made during its brief tenure of life. Every one of them was defeated. But the opposition continued its work, in defiance of the unanimous sentiment of the country uttered only twelve months before. Let me for a moment call attention to the solid ​body of the opinion of united India, untempered by a single dissentient voice.

At the special session of the Congress held in Bombay in September, 1918, under the presidency of Mr. Hassan Imam, the following Resolution was passed on the motion of Pundit Madan Mohan Malavya: 'The status and salary of the Ministers shall be the same as those of the members of the Executive Council.' The motion was supported by Mr. Nehru and Mr. Tilak, among others.

At the first conference of the Moderate party held in Bombay in November, 1918, the following resolution was passed on the motion of the Rt. Hon. Mr. Srinivasa Shastri:

Again, at the special session of the All-India Moslem League, also held in Bombay in September, 1918, under the presidency of the Hon. the Raja of Mahmudabad, on the motion of the Hon. Moulvi Fazlul Huq, the following resolution was passed: 'The status and salary of the Ministers shall be the same as that of the the members of the Executive Council'.

The report of the Committee of the non-official members of the Imperial Legislative Council recommended that the Ministers be placed as regards pay and emoluments on a footing of equality with the members of the Executive Councils'.

The non-official members of the Bengal Legislative Council in their report on the Reforms Scheme observed that 'the status, privileges and emoluments of Ministers should be the same as those of the members of the Provincial Executive Council'. But the most authoritative body of opinion on the subject was that of prominent leaders who gave evidence before the Joint Parliamentary Com- mittee in London; and here again we note the same solid unanimity without a single dissentient note. When Non-Co-operators like Mr. Patel and co-operators like Mr. Shastri stand on the same platform, we are entitled to hold that the plea for the reduction of Ministers' salaries stood on the flimsiest ground. Mr. Madhava Rao and Mr. Patel, members of the Congress Deputation, deposed in their evidence before the Joint Committee, 'Ministers are to be on equality in pay and status with the members of the Executive Council'. It was a charge brought against me by the Extremist Press that, in voting against the reduction of ministerial salary, I ​had gone back on the principles of my past life, for I have always pleaded for retrenchment in public expenditure and the curtailment of high salaries. But they conveniently overlooked the fact that, in regard to this one matter, I made an exception. Let me quote my evidence before the Joint Parliamentary Committee on this point. Here are the question and answer:

What was at the back of the mind of all India was equality of status, based upon equal emoluments as between Ministers and members of the Executive Council. I deliberately expressed this opinion, and never wavered from it. It would have been disastrous to the usefulness and the authority, the invisible power that the man in authority, apart from his official position, exercises over his fellows, if it went forth that a difference had been made between the popular Minister and the Executive Councillor who were both members of the same Government, wielding similar powers. Finan- cial considerations are valuable; but in this case there was yet another factor more important, affecting the fate of a great and novel experiment. Nor was the slightest shade of an argument adduced to show why the opinion of united India in 1918 and 1919 should be brushed aside in 1921. It was all party spirit, reinforced by personal feeling and the lurking desire to wreck the Reforms. The sacred name of retrenchment was invoked as a mask to cover a movement that had a far less righteous purpose to serve.

I think I may fittingly close this chapter by referring for a moment ​to my justification for accepting the office of Minister. The cry was raised, by a section of the Extremist Press, that I should not have accepted ministerial office; and it was employed by Mr. C. R. Das in his electioneering campaign against me. The head and front my offence was that I was a member of the Government. To that I have a reply as conclusive as any that can be found in the armoury of controversy. For self-government, step by step, stage by stage, I have worked through life. I worked for it when really nobody in India dreamt of it, when the country was content to work in the old ways and was satisfied with the old institutions. I worked for it when the Government treated it as a fantastic dream. In the Imperial Legislative Council, only ten years ago, I was described as an impatient idealist, in this very connexion, by my lamented friend, Sir William Meyer, who was then Finance Minister. Our efforts, persistent and strenuous, have changed all this and even the view-point of the Government. The message of August 20 is a tribute to our success. We were now invited to co- operate and to join hands with the Government, in order to ensure the success of the very thing for which we had been fighting for nearly half a century, to raise in our midst the temple of self-government, which would efface all distinctions and all inequalities and be for all time to come the symbol of our equal status with the free nations of the earth. Should we have rejected this offer, which we believed to be genuine and sincere? I have no hesitation in saying that it would have been unwise, unpatriotic, almost treacherous to do so. Therefore, in all sincerity and singleness of heart, which even the voice of slander will not be able to cloud, did I join the Government in a ministerial position. The familiar trick is to urge that we have changed. It is not we who have changed, but the Government, which, according to its lights, is adapting itself to the rapidly progressive tendencies of modern India. The point of difference between us and the Government is that it is not moving fast enough to meet the progressive requirements of the country or the growing aspirations of the people.