CHAPTER XII

THE BIRTH OF AN INDIAN PARLIAMENT

Only twelve years ago Lord Morley, with all his advanced liberalism and

his broad sympathy for Indian aspirations, could not conceive the

possibility of introducing Parliamentary institutions into India in his

time or for generations to come. He would assuredly have had to revise

his opinion could he have attended the first session of the Indian

Legislative Assembly. In form its proceedings were not unworthy of a

great Parliamentary Assembly. The speeches sometimes rose to a high

level of eloquence all the more noteworthy in that English was not the

mother tongue of those who delivered them. They were, as a rule, sober

and dignified, and if all members did not at once abandon a habit much

favoured in the old Councils of putting long strings of questions and

moving impracticable resolutions in sonorous harangues, often prepared

for them by outside hacks, their own colleagues soon taught them that

such methods were no longer likely to pay even for purposes of

advertisement. The majority quickly acquired a knack of suppressing

wind-bags and bores quietly and effectively. The Act of 1919 reserved to

Government the appointment of the President of the Assembly for the

first four years, after which he will be chosen by the Assembly itself.

Not even the House of Commons could treat the Chair with more unfailing

deference than the Assembly showed to Mr. A.F. Whyte, who brought with

him the prestige of Westminster traditions and experience to which he

from time to time appealed aptly and successfully, and the Assembly

appreciated the tact as well as the firmness with which he discharged

his novel duties. A gentle reminder of what was the usual practice in

the House of Commons was never lost on Indian members whose inexperience

occasionally failed to realise the Parliamentary implications of the

procedure adopted by them, but was always ready to accept guidance that

derived its authority from the wisdom of the Mother of Parliaments.

But the qualities shown by the Assembly transcended mere matters of

form. Mr. Whyte bore testimony at the close of the session to debates

"well worthy to stand by the side of the best debates in the Imperial

Parliament." It was no empty compliment, for they revealed the makings

of real statesmanship, and the circumstances in which the Indian

Legislature met for the first time to give collective expression to the

feelings of the people of India, called for statesmanship. The

King-Emperor's message impressed them with a sense of the great

responsibilities and great opportunities arising for them out of the

far-reaching rights conferred upon them. The personal appeal with which

the Duke of Connaught accompanied the delivery of the Royal message went

far to dispel "the shadow of Amritsar," which had, in his own apt

phrase, "lengthened over the face of India" and threatened even to

darken their own path. For on no subject had Indian feeling been more

unanimous during the elections all over the country than in regard to

the Punjab tragedy. None had been more persistently exploited by the

"Non-co-operationists" to point their jibes at the "slave-mentality" of

candidates and electors who were merely the willing dupes of a "Satanic"

Government. On no subject did the Assembly feel itself under a greater

obligation to give expression to the unanimous sentiments of the people

it represented--all the greater indeed in that opportunity of expression

had been denied to the old Legislative Council. It was the acid test to

which the sincerity and the whole value of the reforms were put. The

atmosphere of the Assembly was never again so tense as when the crucial

debate was opened by one of the ablest of the younger members of the

Moderate party, Mr. Jamnadas Dwarkadas, from Bombay, on the

administration of martial law in the Punjab in 1919. He asked the

Government (1) to declare its adhesion to the principle of equal

partnership for Indian and European in the British Empire; (2) to

express regret that martial law in the Punjab violated this fundamental

principle; (3) to administer deterrent punishment to officers guilty of

an improper exercise of their powers including the withdrawal of their

pensions; (4) to assure itself that adequate compensation is awarded to

those who lost their relatives at the Jallianwala Bagh and elsewhere.

The speaker moved his Resolution with great firmness and power but also

with great self-restraint. Most of the Indian speeches in support of it

were conceived in much the same spirit, though now and again one got a

glimpse of angrier passions just beneath the surface. Happily the

Government of India responded for the first time with the frankness and

generosity which, had it displayed them in a much earlier stage in its

handling of the Punjab troubles, would have averted many of the worst

consequences. By reprobating, either implicitly or explicitly, the worst

abuses of martial law the Home member, Sir William Vincent, the

Commander-in-chief, Lord Rawlinson, and Sir Godfrey Fell on behalf of

the army administration, succeeded in persuading the Assembly that not

only were methods of humiliation and terrorism absolutely repugnant to

all traditions of British rule, but that the censure and punishment

already inflicted upon officers and officials were in reality far more

serious and effective than the Indian mind had been wont to believe.

Indian members were asked to realise that for a British officer a broken

career is virtually the end of life, and Sir Godfrey Fell had no need to

mention General Dyer's name when he said, "As it was put to me the other

day by a very distinguished general officer, to leave the army in these

circumstances would be to many officers a disgrace worse than death."

Government finally accepted the Resolution as it had been moved with the

exception of the third clause asking for further punishment--a question

which it was not prepared nor in a position to reopen. With the eager

approval of a great many of his Indian colleagues the mover withdrew

that clause and the rest of the Resolution was passed unanimously and,

be it noted, with the support of every European member of the Assembly.

The atmosphere was thus cleared before the Assembly approached another

and only less delicate question. Some time before the Budget disclosed

the heavy military expenditure to be defrayed out of Indian revenues,

the recommendations of the Committee appointed under the presidency of

Lord Esher to inquire into the administration and organisation of the

army in India had caused widespread alarm. There were peculiar

circumstances connected with the Committee's Report which were

calculated to excite Indian suspicion. The first part, which laid down

the general principles in regard to organisation and administration, was

drawn up in London and received the approval of the Secretary of State

for India before the British members of the Committee proceeded to

India, where their Indian colleagues for the first time joined them,

whilst the President, Lord Esher, himself never went to India at all. To

carry out these principles the Report stated that "the centre of gravity

of probable military operations has shifted from West to East. In the

future we must contemplate the possibility of our armies operating in

the Middle East based partially in India and partially at home.... India

has now been admitted into partnership with the Empire, and the Indian

Army has fought alongside of troops from other parts of the Empire in

every theatre of war. Its responsibilities have thus been greatly

widened, and it can no longer be regarded as a local force whose sphere

of activity is limited to India and the surrounding frontier

territories. It must rather be treated as a part of the Imperial Army

ready to serve in any part of the world." Indians interpreted the Report

as an attempt on the part of the British War Office to throw upon the

Indian Exchequer the cost of a larger army than would be required merely

for Indian defence whilst keeping it under its own control for

employment at the discretion of British Ministers far beyond the

frontiers of India. Official assurances were given both in India and at

home that an exaggerated construction had been placed on the meaning of

the Report, to which, moreover, neither the British Government nor the

Government of India was officially committed, and that in any case

Indian troops would not be required to serve outside India except with

the consent of the Government of India. These assurances did not prevent

the Assembly from passing two Resolutions in which it embodied its

strong protests. The second part of the Report, containing practical

recommendations for the reorganisation of the Indian Army, and alone

based on the results of the inquiry actually conducted in India, was far

less criticised.

The army estimates themselves would have been enough to cause dismay

even if the estimates of other departments, upon which the Indian public

looks with more favour, had not clearly been pruned down with more than

usual parsimony to meet the large increase in military expenditure. But

Lord Rawlinson, who had done his utmost to reduce them to the extreme

limit of safety as he conceived it in existing circumstances, wisely

decided to take the Assembly as far as possible into his confidence, and

to explain the requirements of the military situation not only from his

seat on the Government bench but in private conferences, at which

members were freely invited to meet him and his advisers. If he did not

altogether convince them, he gave them food for reflection at a time

when not only our own North-West Frontier but the whole of Central Asia

is still in a state of turmoil, Persia a very doubtful quantity, and the

Ameer of Afghanistan far more eager to sign a treaty of alliance with

Soviet Russia than to bring to a friendly conclusion the long-drawn

negotiations which the Government of India has sent the head of its

foreign department to conduct at Kabul. The appointment of a Committee

to visit the North-West Frontier and to study the situation on the spot

was admirably calculated to carry the practical education of Indian

legislators a long step farther. In regard to other matters, too,

Government gave and gained time for reflection by referring them, before

committing itself to any definite pronouncement of policy, to special

committees in which points at issue could be thrashed out much more

effectively and with less heat than if only discussed in full house.

Nothing, however, could alter the awkward fact that Government had been

compelled to confront the Legislative Assembly at its first session with

a Budget showing a deficit and making calls upon the Indian tax-payer

absolutely unprecedented in the annals of British-Indian State finance.

The deficit amounted to nearly 19 crores of rupees on a Budget of 130

crores,[3] and the Financial Member, Mr. Hailey, who had only recently

succeeded to the financial department, had to admit that the deficit

could only be met by increased taxation. That the estimates of the

previous year had been so largely exceeded was due beyond dispute to the

growth of military expenditure, which, for the current financial year,

has been put down at 62 crores, or very nearly half the total

expenditure for which provision has to be made. This Budget, moreover,

not only came at a time of general economic depression, but coincided

with the operation of the new financial arrangements between the

Provinces and the Government of India, which have deprived the latter of

the facilities it had formerly for mitigating its own financial

necessities by adjusting to them the doles paid out of the Central

Exchequer to the several Provincial Exchequers. Under the new system

various revenues have been definitely allocated to the Provincial

Governments for their own free disposal, and in return they have to make

fixed annual contributions to the Central Exchequer. These contributions

are in no case to be subject to increase in the future, but on the

contrary to be reduced gradually and to cease at the earliest possible

moment compatible with the irreducible requirements of the Government of

India. The Act of 1919, it is true, transfers to the Indian Legislature

no direct or complete statutory control over revenue and expenditure,

and powers are still vested in the Government of India to override the

Assembly in cases of emergency and to enact supplies which it refuses if

the Governor-General in Council certifies them to be essential to the

peace, tranquillity, and interests of India. But the fact that there was

a deficit which could only be met by increased taxation offered

exceptional opportunities which might easily have been used for

embarrassing obstruction by a young and immature chamber naturally

concerned for its own popularity. Even a direct conflict between the

Government and the Assembly might not have been impossible, and the

consequences would have been lamentable. For if the Government of India

had been driven to use its statutory powers to impose taxation and

secure supplies in opposition to the Legislature during its very first

session, all the hopes of friendly co-operation based on the new

constitution would have been wrecked far more disastrously and

permanently than by any "Non-co-operation" movement. The Legislative

Assembly was wise enough to exercise its rights with sufficient

insistence to show that it was conscious of them, but never to strain

them. It did not refrain from criticism of almost every department in

turn or from motions to reduce the official estimates for them. Many of

the criticisms were sound, and some of the reductions were accepted by

Government. Mr. Hailey handled a delicate situation with unfailing

patience and skill. Even in regard to new taxation he endeavoured to

meet, as far as the exigencies of the Budget allowed, the objections of

the Assembly to such increases as, for instance, higher postal rates,

which press most heavily on the least well-to-do classes. Nothing,

however, helped him so much to get his Budget through without a serious

conflict as the decision of the Government to seek in an increase of the

import duties over two-thirds of the new revenue to be raised to meet

the deficit. For there Government took up common ground with Indian

opinion on fiscal matters and carried into effect the principle laid

down by the Select Joint Committee on the Reforms Bill, and endorsed by

the Secretary of State, that the Government of India must be granted the

same liberty to devise Indian tariff arrangements on a consideration of

Indian interests as all other self-governing parts of the Empire enjoy.

If the Assembly did not see altogether eye to eye with Government as to

the necessity for all this increased expenditure and increased taxation,

its objections were at least mitigated by a form of increased taxation

in which it saw the first step towards fiscal autonomy. In this as in

every other question with which the Legislature had to deal, the

Government of India showed its willingness to accept as far as possible

the guidance of Indian opinion and to act as a national Indian

Government, and not merely as the supreme executive authority under the

Government of the United Kingdom.

On those terms the Assembly was prepared to take into account the

difficulties and responsibilities inherited by Government from past

policies from which no sudden departure was possible, or desired even,

by responsible Indians who recognise the present limitations of their

experience as well as of their rights. Government and Legislature

therefore parted in mutual goodwill and with increased confidence in the

value of the new policy of co-operation. But the Legislature has only

just commenced to realise the extent of its powers, expressed and

implied. The latter stretch almost immeasurably farther than the

former. Indian-elected members form a large majority in the Legislative

Assembly, which has already so largely overshadowed the Council of State

that it will probably be difficult for the upper house to exercise over

the more popular chamber the corrective influence originally

contemplated. The Government of India, of course, retains its great

statutory powers, but these could hardly be exercised again in

uncompromising opposition to the opinion of the majority of the Assembly

now that out of eight members of the Viceroy's Executive Council, which,

with him, forms the Government of India, no less than three are Indians,

who would presumably be often more amenable than their British

colleagues to the pressure of Indian opinion. Under the Act of 1919 the

Government of India is not responsible to the Assembly. That may come in

a later stage, it has not come yet. But one may rest already assured

that only in extreme cases, and if the majority shows itself far more

irresponsible than it has yet given the slightest reason to fear, is

Government likely to risk a cleavage between British and Indian members

of the Viceroy's Executive Council, or to rely on the fact that no vote

of the Assembly can remove it from office, to provoke or face a conflict

of which the consequences would extend far beyond the walls of the

Legislature. This is a powerful lever of which Indians may quickly learn

the use.

In another important direction the first session of the Legislature bore

out Sir Thomas Munro's view, expressed, as we have already seen, a

hundred years ago, that in India as elsewhere liberal treatment will be

found the most effectual way of elevating the character of the people.

Nothing perhaps has tended more to alienate the sympathies of Englishmen

from the political aspirations which the founders of the Indian National

Congress were bent upon promoting than the subordination of social to

political reforms. There remained always some distinguished Indians who

ensued both--notably Mr. Gokhale, who founded the society of "the

Servants of India," dedicated chiefly to social reform, of which the

beneficent activities have expanded steadily throughout a decade of

political turmoil. His mantle fell on no unworthy shoulders, and it is a

good omen that his chief disciple, Mr. Srinivasa Sastri, has become the

leader of the Moderate party in the Council of State, as well as one of

the Indian representatives at the recent Imperial Conference in London.

A similar spirit informs the numerous associations that have addressed

themselves, though with perhaps less success so far, to the more glaring

evils of the Hindu religious social system, such as infant marriage, the

prohibition of re-marriage of widows, the rigidity of caste laws in

regard to inter-caste marriage, and to intercourse between the different

castes even at meals. Many interesting experiments have been made by

Indians for infusing into education a new moral tone and discipline on

Indian lines, and it is due to Indian effort no less than to the

encouragement of Government that female education has begun to bridge

over the intellectual gulf that tended to separate more and more the men

and the women of the Western-educated classes. In Madras, to quote only

one instance, there is to-day a high school for girls--almost

unthinkable two decades ago and only opened ten years ago--in which

high-caste Brahman girls live under the same roof and are taught in the

same class-rooms as not only Hindu girls of the non-Brahman castes, but

Mahomedan and native Christian and Eurasian girls from all parts of the

Presidency, and the only real difficulty now experienced is in the

traditional matter of food, and it is circumvented, if not overcome, by

providing seven different kitchens and seven different messes.

The last attempt on the part of the Government to promote social reforms

by way of legislation was Lord Lansdowne's "Age of Consent" Bill thirty

years ago, and though it was carried through in spite of the violent

opposition of Hindu orthodoxy, which then brought Mr. Tilak into public

life as its leader, an alien Government pledged to complete neutrality

in social and religious matters shrank after that unpleasant experience

from assuming the lead in such matters without having at least the

preponderating bulk of Indian opinion behind it. Not the least

noteworthy event of the first session of the Indian Legislature was the

introduction by Dr. Gour, a Hindu member from the Central Provinces, of

a private Bill legalising civil marriage which British Indian law so far

recognises only between a Christian and a non-Christian, though the

Indian States of Baroda and Indore have legalised them for all their

subjects. Sir Henry Maine wished to move, as far back as 1868, in this

direction when he was Law Member of the Government of India, but to meet

even then a fierce orthodox opposition the provisions of the Bill

finally enacted in 1872 were so whittled down as to make it practically

useless, and it was almost nullified when it came up for interpretation

by the Privy Council. The question does in fact involve many material as

well as social and religious considerations, as matters of personal law

are largely governed by ancient custom in the different communities, and

the point at issue was whether it is possible for a Hindu to cease to be

subject to Hindu law. More recent attempts to make civil marriage lawful

have failed hopelessly. Dr. Gour has had the courage to appeal to the

more liberal spirit for which the new reforms stand, and he defended his

Bill, which is only a permissive Bill, on the grounds that any measure

calculated to break down the ancient barriers between races and creeds

and communities must tend to strengthen the sense of national solidarity

of which the new Indian Legislature is the expression. It remains yet to

be seen what will be the fate of his Bill, but its introduction is in

itself not one of the least hopeful signs of the times.

If one turns from the Government of India to the new Provincial

Governments and Councils the outlook is, on the whole, not less

encouraging. The statutory powers of the Provincial Councils are more

definite and can be brought more directly to bear upon Government, but

they are not likely to be exercised in any extravagant fashion until

time has shown how Indian Ministers discharge their responsibilities to

the Councils and how the two wings of the new Provincial Governments

work together. In fact, the policy, wisely adopted by Provincial

Governors, of treating the two wings of their Government as equally

associated with them in a common task of governance, has robbed the

distinction between "reserved" and "transferred" subjects, if not of all

reality, at any rate of the invidious appearance of discrimination which

might otherwise have attached to the word "dyarchy." As one Provincial

Governor remarked to me, "We are in reality skipping the dyarchy stage."

Indian Ministers, kept fully informed and drawn into consultation on all

subjects, are learning to understand the difficulties of government and

administration of which, as outside critics, they had little notion, and

to value the experience and knowledge which their European colleagues

and subordinates freely place at their disposal, whilst the latter

benefit both from hearing the Indian point of view and from having to

explain and justify their own. Economic depression and financial

stringency cannot, however, but react unfavourably upon the new system

in the Provinces as well as at Delhi, for all the more practical reforms

in which the ordinary Indian elector, whether politically minded or

otherwise, is most closely interested, and for which he has been looking

to the new Provincial Councils, require money, and a great deal of

money. There is a universal demand for more elementary schools, more

road-making, more sanitation, a more strenuous fight against malaria, a

greater extension of local government and village councils' activities,

and the demand cannot be met except by more expenditure. The Indian

Ministers and Indian members of the Provincial Councils have to face

unpopularity whether by postponing much-needed reforms or by imposing

new taxation in order to carry them out. A great many of the best men

have naturally been attracted to Delhi, but though the proceedings in

the Provincial Councils have more frequently betrayed impatience and

inexperience, and sometimes required the monitory intervention of the

Governor, they have played on the whole creditably the important part

allotted to them in this great constitutional experiment.

It is far less easy to appraise the value of the attempt which has been

made at the same time to bring that large part of India which lies

outside the sphere of direct British administration into closer touch

with it by the creation of a Chamber of Princes, which will at least sit

under the same roof with the Council of State and the Legislative

Assembly in the great hall of Parliament to be erected in New Delhi. The

moment when the Government of India is departing from its autocratic

traditions and transferring a large part of its powers throughout

British India into the hands of representative assemblies which are to

pave the way towards the democratic goal of responsible government,

seems scarcely well chosen for the creation of a Chamber which must give

greater cohesion, and potentially greater power to resist the spirit of

the age, to a body of ruling Princes and Chiefs who all stand in varying

degrees for archaic forms of despotic government and whose peoples have

for the most part stood hitherto entirely outside the political life of

British India.

The Native States, as they are commonly called, scattered over nearly

the whole length and breadth of the Indian Empire, cover altogether more

than a third of its total area and include nearly a quarter of its total

population. Some of them can compare in size and wealth with the smaller

States of Europe. Some are but insignificant specks on the map. Great

and small, there are several hundreds of them. Their relations with the

Paramount Power, which have been not inaptly described as those of

subordinate alliance, are governed by treaties and engagements of which

the terms are not altogether uniform. The essence is in all cases the

maintenance of their administrative autonomy under their own dynastic

rulers whose hereditary rights and privileges are permanently guaranteed

to them, subject to their loyalty to the British Crown and to reasonably

good government. The Princes and Chiefs who rule over them--some well, a

few rather badly, most of them perhaps indifferently; some Hindus, some

Mahomedans; some still very conservative and almost mediaeval, some on

genuinely progressive lines; some with a mere veneer of European

modernity--are all equally jealous of their rights and their dignity.

The Native States cannot, however, live wholly in water-tight

compartments. They must be more or less directly affected by what goes

on in British India just across their own often very artificial

boundaries. Their material interests are too closely bound up with those

of their British-Indian neighbours. In many matters, _e.g._ railways,

posts, telegraphs, irrigation, etc., they are in a great measure

dependent upon, and must fall into line with, British India. Their

peoples--even those who do not go to British India for their education

or for larger opportunities of livelihood--are being slowly influenced

by the currents of thought which flow in from British India.

Political unrest cannot always or permanently be halted at their

frontier, though His Exalted Highness the Nizam of Hyderabad, whose ways

are still largely those of the Moghuls, has not hesitated, albeit

himself a Mahomedan Prince, to proscribe all _Khilafat_ agitation within

his territory. The Extremist Press has already very frequently denounced

ruling Princes and Chiefs as obstacles to the democratic evolution of a

_Swaraj_ India which will have to be removed, and if the Nagpur Congress

pronounced against extending its propaganda to the Native States, it did

so only "for the present" and on grounds of pure and avowed expediency.

Apart from the menace of Indian Extremism, there must obviously be a

fundamental conflict of ideals between ruling Chiefs bent on preserving

their independent political entity and the aspirations towards national

unity entertained by the moderate Indian Nationalists whose influence is

sure to predominate over all the old traditions of Indian governance if

the new reforms are successful. Some Princes are wise enough to swim

with the current and have introduced rudimentary councils and

representative assemblies which at any rate provide a modern façade for

their own patriarchal systems of government. But all are more or less

conscious that their own position is being profoundly modified by

constitutional changes in British India, which must, and indeed are

intended to, alter the very character of the Government representing the

Paramount Power to whose authority they owe their own survival since the

beginning of British rule. Their survival has indeed always been an

anomaly, though hitherto, on the whole, equally creditable to the

British _Raj_ that preserved them from extinction in the old days of

stress and storm and to the rulers who have justified British

statesmanship by their fine loyalty. But in a democratised and

self-governing India it might easily become a much more palpable

anomaly.

How was this new situation to be dealt with? Some of the ruling Princes

and Chiefs whose views appear to have prevailed with the Secretary of

State and the Government of India, came to the conclusion that they

should combine together and try to secure as a body a recognised

position from which their collective influence might be brought more

effectively to bear upon the Government of India, whatever its new

orientation may ultimately be under the influence of popular assemblies

in British India. Some, doubtless, believed that once in such a position

they would be able to oppose a more effective because more united front

to interference from whatever quarter in the internal affairs of their

States. Circumstances favoured their scheme for the loyalty displayed by

all the Native States, and the distinguished services rendered in person

by not a few Chiefs inclined Government to meet their wishes without

probing them too closely, and in the first place to relax the control

hitherto exercised by its political officers on the spot--often, it must

be confessed, on rather petty and irritating lines. The leading Princes

were encouraged to come to Delhi during the winter season, and those who

favoured a policy of closer combination amongst themselves were those

who responded most freely to these official promptings. Conversations

soon assumed the shape of informal conferences, and, later on, of formal

conferences convened and presided over by the Viceroy. The hidden value

of these conferences must have been far greater than would appear from

the somewhat trivial record of the subjects under discussion, for it is

out of these conferences that the new Chamber of Princes has been

evolved as a permanent consultative body for the consideration of

questions affecting the Native States generally, or of common concern to

them and to British India and to the Empire generally.

The conception is in itself by no means novel and appeals to many upon

whom the picturesqueness and conservative stability of the Native States

exercise a strong attraction. It can be traced back at least as far as

Lord Lytton's Viceroyalty over forty years ago, and the steadily growing

recognition of the important part which the Native States play in the

Indian Empire culminated during the war in the appointment of an Indian

Prince to represent them specially at the Imperial War Conferences held

in London during the war, and again, after the war was over, at the

Paris Peace Conference.

But the creation of a Chamber of Princes at this particular juncture

raises very difficult issues. In the first place, though it has been

engineered with great skill and energy by a small group of very

distinguished Princes, mostly Rajput, it is viewed with deep suspicion

by other chiefs who, not being Rajputs, scent in it a scheme for

promoting Rajput ascendancy, and it has received no support at all from

other and more powerful Princes such as the Nizam of Hyderabad, the

Gaikwar of Baroda, the Maharajah of Mysore. Some have always held aloof

from the Delhi Conferences and have intimated plainly that they have no

desire to see any alteration introduced into their treaty relationships

with the Paramount Power. Without their participation no Chamber of

Princes can pull its full weight, and even if most of them considered

themselves bound out of loyalty to the Sovereign to attend an inaugural

ceremony performed by the Duke of Connaught in the name of the

King-Emperor himself, it would be premature to infer that their

opposition has been permanently overcome. The Supreme Government has of

course reiterated the pledges already embodied in the treaties that

there shall be no interference with the ancient rights and privileges of

the Native States and their rulers, but its eminent right to interfere

in cases of extreme urgency has not and cannot be surrendered. It has

been exercised very rarely, and only when administration and government

have fallen flagrantly short of certain standards, established by usage

and generally understood and accepted, which it is perhaps easier to

describe negatively than positively. Misrule cannot be tolerated when it

amounts to a public scandal or takes the form of criminal acts. The

whole question has always bristled with difficulties, and still does.

The tendency, since Lord Curzon's time, has been to relax the control of

the Supreme Government even in matters of slighter moment on which it

had been accustomed to tender advice not always distinguishable from

commands. That some of the Native States, and not the least powerful,

are badly governed is of common notoriety. But if the Supreme Government

has been sometimes inclined to turn a blind eye in such cases, and even

to forget that it has moral obligations towards the subjects as well as

towards the rulers of the Native States, it has been free hitherto to

obey considerations of political expediency which may conceivably not

weigh so much in the future. For the same forces that have obtained the

surrender of the autocratic principle in British India, may demand with

equal insistency its surrender throughout the Native States. Should the

more irresponsible chiefs rely on the solidarity of a Chamber of Princes

to secure for them greater immunity than ever from the just consequences

of misgovernment, they would merely hasten a conflict which undoubtedly

most of their caste have begun to dread between their own archaic

methods and the democratic spirit which the Government of India Act of

1919 has quickened in British India.

There are many other thorny points. Obviously there could be no room for

all the seven or eight hundred ruling chiefs, great and small, in any

assembly reasonably constituted to represent the Native States. Nor have

they ever enjoyed any uniform status or received any uniform treatment.

Some of them, the most important, have maintained direct relations with

the Government of India; the majority only indirect relations through

the Provincial Governments within whose sphere their territories are

situated. The creation of the Chamber of Princes has necessitated a new

classification of major and minor States, the former entitled to direct,

the latter only to indirect representation, which has naturally caused a

vast amount of jealousy and heartburning. Another consequence still

under discussion is the substitution in most cases of direct relations

with the Government of India for those in which the smaller Native

States now stand to provincial governments. Such transfer must involve

innumerable difficulties and complications, especially in a Presidency

like Bombay, within whose boundaries there are over 300 Native States

inextricably bound up with it by common interests and even by common

administrative needs. Many of them are at first sight inclined to

welcome such a transfer as enhancing their prestige; some of them,

remembering the old saying that "Delhi is a long way off," hope that it

will lessen the prospect of outside interference in their own

administration, however bad it may be or become. But these are hardly

arguments to justify a transfer which can only import a new element of

confusion into an already sufficiently confused situation.

The Chamber of Princes was opened with all the glitter of oriental pomp

and magnificence, but it only held a few meetings and the proceedings

were veiled in secrecy. Only enough transpired to show that personal

jealousies and clan rivalries were rife even at that early stage. Its

very constitution denies it the assistance for which the Indian Councils

and the Indian Ministers have been wise enough to look from the

co-operation with them of British elements, whose authority in

government and administration is still maintained by statute and so far

undisputed. To the Chamber of Princes the Viceroy alone is in a position

to give guidance, and to shape that illustrious assembly to useful

purposes is one of the many difficult tasks in front of Lord Reading.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] At the "stabilised" rate of exchange a crore, or ten million

rupees = one million gold pounds sterling. One hundred lacs make a

crore.

India, Old and New · 第 12 / 16 章