If we were inclined to conspiracy theories, we would say it is all about oil. Oil is no doubt important. But what appears to be much more of a determinant is the western fear of facing an united Ummah (which may also capture the West from within). After all this is an old (and familiar) enemy.
The same play-book that was used in India was also put in action in the Middle-East. The Ottomans were deliberately destroyed to remove the (native) power structure in the name of federalism. The Shias have been aligned as being opposed to the Sunnis and vice versa (for the last 1300 years we are told). And now we have the entire MENA up in flames breathing new life into theories as to why the natives are unfit for self-rule and why the good old, white commonwealth should re-colonize and restore order.
In contrast to the handful of partitions in South Asia we are presently witness to a hundred partitions in MENA with no end in sight (Kurdistan and Eastern Libya are the latest mini-states to take shape). A far-sighted project that has been excellently managed by the best minds in the West.
Ironically (and sadly enough), one effect of these divide and rule games will be the extinction of local, native Christian populations in MENA. The contrast with the Christians in India, even in a future Modi-fied country, seem to prove the point that less western interference is better for the health of eastern populations.
The rise of Gandhi and the demand for Swaraj (independence) was unpleasant for many folks: the British (obviously), the aristocrats (fear of socialism). Even many common Indian folk felt a strong sense of loyalty to the (british) royalty. The British also masterfully neutralized the dominance of Congress by playing one community against the other. Gandhi managed to keep the dalits onside by coming to terms with Ambedkar in 1932, however he would not be able to stop Jogendranath Mandal from locking arms with Jinnah in 1946.
However the Great War (followed by WWII) made independence inevitable.
of 1914-1918 is so often seen as the great turning point in India’s modern
history and the moment at which freedom from British rule began to seem
possible. Indeed, we can see at work three great transitions that occurred
almost simultaneously: their cumulative effect was, or so it seemed, to weaken
both the British will to rule and the sources of their power.
visionary to imagine the astonishing campaign of satyagraha that Gandhi was
able to orchestrate between 1920 and 1922. The British had acknowledged the
wisdom of drawing more of India’s Anglophone elite into their system of
government by offering very limited representation on the provincial councils.
They were careful not to permit the creation of large popular constituencies
and happy to concede separate electorates to Muslims.
resented the refusal to grant parliamentary government at the centre (the key
demand in their constitution) and the effective exclusion of Indians from the
ranks of the ruling oligarchy, the Indian Civil Service. But its leaders (with
the exception of Balgangadhar Tilak) rejected an appeal to the masses, and
viewed with horror the recourse to civil disobedience, let alone violence.
later generations, this ultra-cautious approach suggested a lack of
commitment to Indian freedom, a lack of nationalist ‘fire’. This verdict is
wrong. What the pre-war leadership grasped was that India could only be united
and free if the nation was built from the top down not the bottom up. That
meant winning control of the legislature and then drawing the masses step by
step into the ‘political nation’. Their model was obvious: it was Gladstonian
liberalism which worked on exactly this principle. In the light of India’s
later history, we might commend their wisdom but regret the impossibility of
their plan ever working.
for the British to hand over control of the Indian legislature and the civil
service without a struggle, because a struggle would damage the very
institutions they valued so highly as the machinery for nation-building. But
the British were never going to do so, partly because they denied the claim of
the Congress to represent anyone but themselves, partly because they remained
utterly confident in their power to repress any symptoms of political unrest.
Before 1914, therefore, Indian politics was in a form of stalemate.
had created a small public space in which representative politics could be
practised. But it was carefully ring-fenced and the ‘exit’ closely guarded.
However, almost as soon as the war broke out, the Congress leaders sensed a new
opportunity. India’s loyal response, the dispatch of the Indian army to the
Western Front and the Middle East, would create a political debt that the
British would have to repay. They needed the vocal support of India’s public
men to rally volunteers to the army and to soothe the resentment that India’s
wartime mobilisation aroused—as prices rose, transport links became strained
and taxes grew heavier.
Britain’s Indian policy that London would lay down the outlines of any new
constitution for India but leave the details to the experts—the Indian Civil
Service. Montagu decided to take this bull by the horns. He came to India in
1918 to discuss a new constitution with the Viceroy, Lord Chelmsford, but really
to persuade the Civil Service ‘barons’. Their reaction was cool, their
obstruction Machiavellian. The outcome, much revised and amended, was the
notorious scheme for ‘dyarchy’ in which elected Indian politicians would gain
some limited executive power in the provinces (but not over finance or
security) but none at all at the centre. After all the promises, it seemed to
the most moderate of Congressmen a bitter betrayal.
the ‘Rowlatt Act’ the British announced the continuation of the stringent
coercive powers they had employed during the war against those suspected of
treason. To many in the Congress, it seemed the end of the political road.
symptomatic of a crucial new factor in the political game. During the war, the
British had been alarmed by the fear of a Sikh conspiracy. But their real cause
for anxiety arose from the fact that they were fighting a war against the
Muslim power in the Middle East (the Ottoman Empire) with an army that
contained many Muslims. To some of the most vocal ‘Young Muslims’ in India,
this war was an outrage. The British reaction was to lock them up. With the end
of the war, this ill-feeling might have been expected to fade. In fact it grew
worse, much worse.
Ottoman empire for good, and to banish the sultan, who was also the Muslim
Caliph or Khalifa, from his historic capital in Istanbul. The spectacle of the
British invasion of the central Islamic lands and their contemptuous treatment
of the greatest Muslim dignitary aroused a furious reaction (and helps to
explain why the British passed the Rowlatt Act). It created a completely new
political climate in India of electrifying possibilities. There was someone on
hand who knew how to exploit them.
to engage in ‘social uplift’. His manifesto, Hind Swaraj, which outlined
a plan for the peaceful rejection of British authority by a moral revolt, had
been promptly banned on publication, and its contents had little appeal to most
active Congressmen. But during the war Gandhi had demonstrated an impressive
capacity to mobilise but also control wider public participation in local
campaigns while avoiding a confrontation with the British. Thus when he
proposed a large-scale public protest against the indignity of the Rowlatt Act,
many Congressmen sympathised. The terrible outcome at Amritsar in April
1919 might have confirmed the unwisdom of this experiment in mass politics.
But Gandhi skilfully denounced the immorality of British rule and then
found a new constituency. He appealed to Muslims to join the Congress, and
with their support swung the Congress behind his great campaign of
non-cooperation in 1920.
really made? The British had been given a fright but the Raj was still there.
To many Congressmen, Gandhi’s new politics had been a terrible failure. The
British comforted themselves that the strange Gandhian moment had passed. Those
masters of the constitutional small print, the Indian Civil Service, set to
work to devise a new political system that would enlarge Indian politics but
disarm Indian nationalism, or at least the Gandhian variety. Their solution was
federation: devolving most power to the provinces whose political differences
would make all-Indian nationalism a shadow of its Gandhian self, and leave the
British at the centre in command of the army, the rupee and trade —the things
round of civil disobedience came in 1930-32. But they were hampered by exactly
the force that Gandhi had mobilised in 1920, the sense of a Muslim identity.
Once more the Congress was forced to bite the bullet and ‘work’ the
constitution that the British imposed. The result was a stand-off, for the
Congress proved far more successful at winning provincial votes than the
British expected, and formed most of the new provincial governments in 1937.
But it was far from clear that they would be able to force the British into new
War, even Nehru was doubtful whether Indian independence could come in the
foreseeable future. In the event, he had not long to wait. For all the horrors
of the First World War, it had been a great strategic victory for the British.
Their empire had been made safe. But then World War II inflicted three decisive
defeats on British world power, one in Europe, one in Asia and one on the economic
front. From these, there was to be no real recovery. As their world- system
fell apart, they lost control of India. There was never to be the peaceful
transition of which the pre-1914 Congress had dreamed. The subcontinent still
lives with the consequences.