THE PRIVY PURSE AND PRIVILEGES

OF THE PRINCES

 

PROF. B. R. KUMAR

[Being the text of a Paper read at a meeting

held under the auspices of the Khasa Forum, Madras.]

 

            As the discussion on the subject is being held under the auspices of the Khasa Forum, it is appropriate to start with the particular angle, from which all discussions on political topics are to be conducted by us. The Forum is not a party forum; it is not a forum of journalists or politicians in the narrow sense of the term–people out to convert others or to capture power, may be for the best of motives, for Khasa was neither merely a party man, nor merely a journalist, but one who, through political journalism, attempted to uphold in the social life of the people, the highest standards of, first, morality, second, rationalism, and, third, politics. For fundamentally all healthy social life is a balance of these three ideologies or first principles, on which all human social life is built and functions; in European philosophy, the balance of will, wisdom, and activity; in Indian Philosophy, Sat, Chit, Ananda; in common parlance, the seed, the flower and the fruit; or the foundation, the ground structure and the roof. Morality, the distinction between right and wrong in the absolute sense, the Imperatives, the Sanatana Dharma, the Laws of Nature, that is the basis of all Human Life; the distinguishing trait of Man as distinguished from the animal, who is guided by instinct. But morality without rationality is mere superstition and ritual, and in any social group morality must find expression in outward activity; our behaviour towards others in daily details of life. The three go together; and hence the Khasa group is essentially a group of Political Fundamentalists; we look at political problems from the Fundamental point of view. It is from that angle that the question of the Privy Purses and Privileges is to be examined by us.

 

            First, then, from the Moral point of view, is the contemplated action Moral? A certain bargain was struck with the Princes; struck at a time when the Princes could have held out–as Hyderabad and Travancore, and Kashmir did–and caused us any amount of trouble and expense, and if they had held out only God knows if even the mighty Indian Government, busy as it was with the problems of the partition and Kashmir, could have ever got the better of them. Some of the Princes of Kashmir, Rajputana and Kathiawar could have easily joined Pakistan, as their borders were contiguous. The Princes did not, except for one or two, take advantage of our political and military difficulties: they did not stand out for impossible terms, either to gain time or to extract them, but patriotically responded to the appeal of the Sardar, and a bargain was struck. Is it moral for one party, and that the stronger one, to repudiate the bargain unilaterally, even for the best of reasons, without, at the same time, surrendering the advantages of the bargain, the quid pro quo? Even then, it would be open to the princes to refuse to undo the bargain, 23 years after its fulfilment; how much more immoral it is to repudiate it, without offering to surrender the sovereignties of the Princes? The Ramayana tells us that Dasaratha made a certain promise to Kaikeyi, and even though its fulfilment involved the most atrocious decision–not only the disinheritance of the heir to the throne, but his banishment as well–he kept his promise; even though the promise was a mere verbal one, and a thousand excuses could have been given, including the 95 per cent of our Prime Minister, to dishonour it; take away this moral foundation of the Ramayana, and the whole story loses its epic quality and is reduced to the vulgarity of an old, senile, sex-ridden man, sacrificing all the decencies of life to satisfy a nagging wife and a grasping mother; sublimity reduced to vulgarity. And the same with regard to the terrible vow of Bhishma–without it, what should happen to the epic quality of the Mahabharata?

 

            And that brings me to the second point of the immorality of the proposed action. The agreement with the princes was not a mere verbal agreement; it was not a merely legal document, to be left for later interpretations by the lawyers and the courts. It was a constitutional document; it was considered so sacrosanct that it was embodied in the Constitution. Now, there was no need for this safeguard; the princes could not have insisted upon it, and the protection of the courts would have met the question of the sanctions behind the agreement. Hence the only reason that could have induced the Constitution-makers to have embodied the document in the Constitution was to make its safety doubly assured, or perhaps trebly assured. A written Constitution is supposed to be a kind of political bible; it cannot be meddled with, too easily; the U. S. A., in the course of 200 years, has modified it about 25 times. Hence, if to break a mere verbal promise, as in the case of Dasaratha and Bhishma, was immoral, how much more immoral it is to break a promise safeguarded in the Constitution? According to European political thinkers, a Constitution, written or unwritten, is a contract and if the Government breaks any of its provisions, its subjects are automatically released from their oath of obedience. It was on this ground that the American Colonies revolted against the British Government; it was on this ground that James the Second was dethroned and William and Mary enthroned in England. Hence, since our political system is based on that of the European models, the Princes may well argue that the breach of the contract by the Government dissolves their bonds of obedience to the Indian Government; the fact that they do not possess any physical power to enforce their Independence is beside the point. If it is immoral to break an unwritten promise, it is much more so to break a promise, embodied in the Constitution.

 

            This leads one to the third objection, legal. Can the Union Government legally unilaterally abrogate the treaties with the Princes? ‘The King can do no wrong’ dictum of law may have been all right when the world did not have any international bodies, like the World Court at the Hague, apart from the existence of the Supreme Court at Delhi, one of whose functions is to interpret the provisions of our Constitution. Is it legally impossible for the Princes to appeal both to the Supreme Court at Delhi and to the World Court at the Hague?

 

            The contemplated action thus is immoral, unconstitutional, and, perhaps, even illegal. But, even politically it is unwise. The moral authority of a government depends on the sanctity of its promises, verbal, constitutional, legal; once this sanctity is shaken there is no guarantee to its citizens that the same kind of actions will not be repeated in the case of the promises to the ordinary citizens. The Union Government issues paper currency notes running into crores, on which it is written that it promises to “Pay the Bearer on a Demand, the sum of” rupees so and so. What is the guarantee that this promise will be kept? The Union Government has raised loans, both internal and external: what is the guarantee that the same will not be repudiated, if it, at any time, so suits the Government? And if the Government can do so, why not semi-Governmental institutions, the L. I. C., the Unit Trust, the Reserve Bank, the State Banks, the Nationalised Banks, the State, the Zilla, the Panchayat Boards, the Co-operative Banks and so on? And if these can do so, why not public sector undertakings, and then the private sector undertakings, and private banks and private individuals? For, if the State itself turns thief or highwayman–and that is how the Union Government is behaving towards the Princes–then what moral justification or power has it to control other lesser thieves? As the Romans put it, “Who is to guard the custodian?” or as Christ put it, “If the salt loses its flavour.” Fundamentally sanctity of promise is the superstructure of morality, as illustrated in both the Ramayana and the Mahabharata; without it, no society can take root or flourish; morality is the root and faith is the fruit. Hence to break our promise with the Princes is to remove; the very foundations of all social cohesion. That was the reason, Socrates gave for his refusal to take the advice of his friends and save his life: obedience to the laws was the duty of a citizen, for, without this no State could exist; and obedience is only possible if the laws are not changed at the whim of the ruler. Hence the action of the Government is politically unwise; it cuts at the root of public faith, confidence in the financial and general integrity of the Government. In future, people will hesitate to subscribe to its loans, to buy its units, to put money in its banks, and logically, ultimately, each man will have to hide his savings in his backyard, because no one can be trusted, from Governments to private individuals. The pensions given by the British East India Company, 200 years ago, to the then deposed rulers still continue; such was the sanctity of the word of the Britisher.

 

            The proposed action is politically unwise, but even economically it is unnecessary. The total amount due to be paid to the Princes is about rupees four crores per year, which automatically decreases with the death of each recipient, so that in a few more years, it will automatically cease. But even if it did not, it is flea-bite in the total receipts of the Union Government, of about 4,000 crores, that is, the total amount is about a thousandth of the Union budget; four crores added to 4,000 crores is not going to make any difference to the budget; if the amount was a question of solvency or bankruptcy of the Government, it might have had some economic justification. But, when the Union Government is prepared to put up with hundreds of crores of losses in the public sector, when it has no compunction in wasting crores and crores or unnecessary items (losses of Hindustan Steel since its inception are about Rupees 200 crores) foreign tours of Ministers and others, putting up a new palace for the Prime Minister, furnishing ministerial residences at exorbitant costs, paying outrageous electricity and water bills, expanding ministries and thereupon the bureaucracy to needless extent, prolonging the Kashmir conflict, nationalising all and sundry without any attempt at economy, and a thousand other items of wasteful expenditure, as so often pointed out by the Audit committees–it cannot be a question of solvency or bankruptcy! The four crores involved in this repudiation is not justified on that ground; so that it has no economic basis.

 

            Thus morally, constitutionally, legally, politically and economically, the proposed action is indefensible and, perhaps, it may be said to the credit, or is it discredit, of the Union Government, that it does not put forward any of these excuses; even the tribute of hypocrisy to virtue is not paid by the present rulers of India; even Mohammed of Ghazni, a thousand years ago, was more virtuous, for when he decided to loot the accumulated wealth of India, hoarded in its temples, he put forward a moral justification, the breaking of the temple idols. But, we, in the 20th century, are more sophisticated; we have discarded all morality from our social actions, and hence there is no need even for its pretence. And so the only justification put forward by the Union Government is, that “Times have changed”; within 23 years of our Independence the times have changed so radically that what was right 23 years ago–for otherwise the then Government would not have entered into the agreements–has become wrong today; that what could have been morally, constitutionally, legally, politically, economically, impossible 23 years ago is the right thing to do today. In plain language, this is the language of the opportunist, the unashamed opportunist, without a spark of decency, or of conscience, of commonsense, of political wisdom of economic scruples, of historical dynamism, or, if you like, the language of the highwayman.

 

            And so, the question, how have the times changed, if they have changed at all? Now, it is obvious that this figure of speech does not mean that there is any change in the eternal varieties of universal laws, under which what was right in 1947 has become wrong in 1970, and so must be set right by putting the clock backward; much like the passengers in an aeroplane have to do when they cross the dateline, and have to put the date back by a day or put the time back or forward as they travel east to west or west to east. All that it means is that the relative Position of the two parties has changed; in 1947, the princes could negotiate on a footing of equality; in 1970, they have to negotiate on a footing of inequality, and that it suits the needs of the present rulers, to deprive them of their privileges and purses and they know that they can do so without much resistance from the rulers–physical resistence that is, which, in politics divorced from morality, becomes the only standard of action. In 1947, Gandhiji’s reply to this was his fast in favour of Pakistan. So, fundamentally, what has changed is not the times but the relative positions of the two parties. But that is an immoral attitude. In the past it has been an accepted rule of honourable behaviour that no advantage should be taken of such accidents; if your adversary is, by accident, deprived of his weapon, it was a rule of chivalry to wait till he recovered it. But then, those were the accepted standards of behaviour, of barbarians a thousand years ago, as told in tales of Scott; not of modern civilised men, who are above all such scrupulous niceties. Because a man is down and out, it is no reason for kicking him, among civilised men. For, in the last analysis all civilisation is built on restraint of our passions; without it we are back in the law of the jungle; and that is suicidal, even for the rulers themselves, not to mention the ruled.

 

            And this leads us to the inevitable question: Why this immoral, irrational, unconstitutional, illegal, impolitic and uneconomic attitude towards the princes? Fundamentally, it is nothing, but an attempt to find scapegoats for the failure of the ruling party during the last 20 years to improve the economic condition of the country. When the Congress came to power, its first scapegoats were the businessmen; the responsibility for the poverty of the masses was laid at their doors. Later, it was the opposition parties, who were obstructionists. Then, it was the officials who were indifferent. Afterwards, it was the public, who were unpatriotic. Now, it is the turn of the Princes, along with newspapers and banks and various agencies in the other spheres of activity, still left in private hands. Perhaps, the best simile that fits the situation is the thief joining in the public outcry by shouting “thief, thief,” and thus diverting attention from himself, for the real authors of all our present misery are the very same people who are holding forth against the Princes, for they have been in charge of the political control of the country ever since independence, and no one has been able to oppose their policies. Either their policies have been wrong, or their implementation has been ineffective. But a bad workman must find fault with his tools.

 

            The main problem of our people is poverty. Now, egalitarianism is quite a moral and rational doctrine, if it means levelling up. But that is a slow task; it is a hard task, and it means setting an example oneself. Now, our rulers are by no stretch of the imagination egalitarian, on principle; it is only a slogan with them. And since it is only a slogan, from the time that they came to power they have adopted not relevant policies, but theatrical acting, (levelling down and not levelling up. Now, this policy is immoral, for it is pure vandalism; it serves no purpose; if all the wealth of the rich people, were confiscated, it would not give more than a few paise to each of the poor. Further, it is impolitic, for if the enterprising men are not to be permitted to use their brains for the improvement of their own economic condition, the society in which they live, suffers as much the brain drain. It is uneconomic, for it is only the initiative of the few that creates jobs for the many. It is suicidal, for after the Princes (and others) have been deprived of their purses, it will sooner or later be the turn of the rulers themselves; after all, our rulers are not paupers. The first victims of lawlessness are its inspirers; a revolution first devours its own parents. In the Mahabharata story, Draupadi was gambled away to the Kauravas. But that gave no right to the latter to dishonour her in the public assembly by disrobing her; Draupadi was rescued. Perhaps, that is the situation of the Princes today; their helplessness gives no right to the legal powers of the State to dishonour them publicly.

 

            It was said of the curate’s egg, that it was good in parts. The attempt to deprive the princes of their treaty rights has not the excuse, even of being good in parts; it is rotten, through and through. And the fact that the whole pose of egalitarianism is hypocrisy, adds to the immorality of the action. Our rulers are no believers is egalitarianism; if they were, they would have set the example themselves in their daily lives and conduct, as Gandhiji did. While the annual average income of an Indian is about 300 rupees, an eminent economist has calculated that each Union Minister costs us about rupees 17,000 per month. Look at the palaces, in which they live, where the furnishing of each room costs about 70,000 rupees, their electricity, water, telephone, petrol bills; look at the pomp and pomposity of their public appearances; no Indian-made car is good enough for them; the Prime Minister wants to build a new palace for herself-and there are lakhs of villages without water. It never strikes them that all this money could be diverted to the provision of village wells, and such other necessities. The head of a family, when there is shortage of food and drink, first, thinks of the needs of the children; that is socialism; our rulers’ is its perversion; the ruler first and then the rest, if there is anything left. Was it Carlyle, who wrote that the droppings of the rich could feed the poor; is it not the same with our rulers? But, all this perversion is attempted to be kept away from the public gaze by attempting to find some convenient scapegoat; and so the patent hypocrisy of the whole show, which, in the public mind, creates universal cyncism. Unlike the curate’s egg, the proposed action is rotten in every detail and every fibre.

 

            The Greeks said that those whom the God’s wish to destroy, they first make mad. Our epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata repeat the same theme. Perhaps, the British Empire in India came to an end with the madness of the Jalianwala Bagh shootings and other atrocities. Perhaps, the breach of treaties with the Princes is an incident of the same significance. Burke, in his impeachment of Clive, in his peroration, closed with the words: “I accuse him in the name of Human Nature.” I think our verdict must close with the same sentiment.

 

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