...he
that laboureth right for love of Me
Shall
finally attain! But, if in this
Thy
faint heart fails, bring Me thy failure!
–The
Song Celestial.
BY
K. RAMAKOTISWARA RAU l
Welcome to ‘K. C.’
A
new Volume of ‘Triveni’ begins with this number. I cannot claim to have made a
great success of the Journal, but ‘Triveni’ has played a notable part in the
renaissance of Indian culture during the last two decades. Leading
litterateurs, art-lovers, and publicists from all parts of India have contributed
to its pages and enabled it to maintain a standard of excellence. The present
period is a hectic one, in which politics is too much with us and cultural
values do not obtain due recognition. But this is a passing phase.
I
am grateful to the members of the Advisory Board for their continued interest
in the Journal. With the passing away of Justice V. Govindarajachari, there was
a gap in its membership which I have not had the heart to fill. But the
Publisher–a dear nephew of mine–was so charmed with the personality and the
varied gifts of Sri K. Chandrasekharan that, immediately after the first
meeting between them he urged that ‘K. C.’ should be invited to occupy a place
on the Advisory Board. I could not say ‘No’, though it was not clear to
me how Chandrasekharan could thereby be brought closer to ‘Triveni’ than he has
always been: he is the one person who has worried him-self about ‘Triveni’ even
more than the Editor. Govindarajachari belonged to my generation; his presence
on the Board meant a great deal to me. I am feeling old and tired, and this
work must pass on to younger men like M. Chalapathi Rau and Manjeri S. Isvaran.
And Chandrasekharan must be, to them and to the Publisher, what
Govindarajachari was to me. So, this number will mark the beginning of the
transition from the old to the new. We offer Chandrasekharan a most
affectionate welcome.
Within
sixteen months of the inauguration of the Indian Constitution, it is undergoing
a change, on the initiative of the Party which won Independence for India and
was mainly responsible for framing the Constitution. The procedure outlined in
Article 368 for the amendment of the Constitution cannot be followed in its
entirety, for the Council of States and the House of the People of the Union
Parliament are not yet in being. According to clause (1) of Article 379, “the
body functioning as the Constituent Assembly of the Dominion of India
immediately before the commencement of this Constitution shall be the
provisional Parliament and shall exercise all the powers and perform all the
duties conferred by the provisions of this Constitution on Parliament.” Doubts
have been expressed if the ‘powers’ and ‘duties’ thus conferred extend to the
amendment of the Constitution. But it cannot have been the intention of the
framers of the Constitution to abridge the competence of the provisional
Parliament, and make it impossible for any amendment to be proposed till
such time as the new Houses of Parliament start functioning. Every written
Constitution carries within itself the power of amendment, though a special
procedure is always provided. So as to distinguish constitutional amendments
from ordinary enactments of the Legislature. In the present instance, our
provisional Parliament is entitled to amend the Constitution subject only to
compliance with the rule relating to a special majority.
It
is not, however, the purely legal aspect of the Amending Bill that has
exercised the minds of publicists and journalists all over India. The General
Elections are coming off in November, and it is improper for an ad hoc body
like the provisional Parliament to anticipate the decision of the newly elected
Legislatures. If certain laws have been declared ultra vires of the
Constitution by the Supreme Court and the High Courts, the Party in power ought
not to circumvent the decisions of those tribunals by a too hasty recourse to
amendments of the Constitution, especially when those amendments are likely to
infringe the fundamental rights guaranteed by the Constitution. Public opinion
must be allowed to express itself through the ballot box at the coming
elections, and it will be time enough next April or May for the newly
constituted Government and Parliament to address themselves to the task of amending
the Constitution. But the Nehru Government preferred to rush the Bill through
the present Legislature; it has thereby enhanced its power but not its
prestige.
The
provisions of the Bill relating to “freedom of speech and expression” (Art. 19)
and “discrimination against any citizen on grounds only of religion, race,
caste, etc.” (Art. 15) have roused the most vehement opposition. The Select
Committee, no doubt, effected an improvement by adding the word ‘reasonable’ in
the amendment to 19 (2), thus making any relevant laws of the Union and State
Legislatures justiciable, but the Committee rendered a disservice to the cause
of progress by considerably widening the scope of the original Bill. Even
‘public order’ and ‘incitement to offence’ can now be penalised. There is not
even the saving grace of reserving such laws for the consideration of the
President or vesting the law-making power solely in the Union Parliament.
The
Government of Madras have scored a victory, in that they have persuaded the
Nehru Government to bring back the obnoxious Communal G. 0 in a new garb.
Despite the Prime Minister’s obvious sincerity, the virtual abrogation of
Article 29 (2) has a sinister significance. “Socially and educationally
backward classes” come within the ambit of Article 340, which empowers the
President to appoint a Commission to investigate their conditions and make
recommendations. The Government of India could have hastened the appointment of
such a Commission and implemented its recommendations. But to rely on the
‘assurances’ of a state Government and arm them with wide powers to
discriminate against whole classes of citizens on grounds of caste, is to
surrender to the reactionary forces of communalism.
Technically,
the Bill is an ‘enabling’ measure, and the Union and State Legislatures can,
under normal conditions, be trusted to exercise their powers with moderation
and foresight. But, between now and the summoning of the new Legislatures, the
position is somewhat abnormal. There is no effective Opposition, and the party
machinery at the command of the various Governments offers a great temptation
to them to stifle all expression of hostile opinion, and to consolidate their
power while professing merelv to maintain ‘public order’. To crown it all, the
spokesmen of the Central Government have displayed unedifying tendency to
distrust the highest Courts of the land, whose function it is to safeguard the
Constitution and the rights conferred by it. This is hardly conducive to the
success of democratic institutions in our infant Republic.
Despite
the efforts of top-ranking leaders like Nehru and Azad, the rift in the
Congress is now a certainty. The dissidents, led by Acharya Kripalani, are
meeting shortly at Patna, and the Acharya will not even hear of any
postponement to enable a last-minute unity move to be made through a special
session of the A I. C. C. Mr. Kidwai, his ‘second in command’, finds it hard to
tear himself away from the great organisation and from the comrades who have grown
dear through many decades of the freedom-fight. Between the two main groups of
Congressmen, the official and the dissident, there is not that type of
ideological difference which marks off the Congress from the Socialists, or the
Socialists from the Communists. It is in the manner of implementing the
declared objectives of the Congress that differences have arisen. Congres8men
in office have been unable to maintain even reasonable standards of integrity
and efficiency, and they have signally failed to exercise due control over the
permanent services. While the freedom and the territorial and administrative
consolidation of India have been achieved, the elementary duties of a welfare
State are not being adequately fulfilled. In most of the States of the Union,
the main pre-occupation of the ‘Ministerialists’ is the devising of ways anti
means to win the next elections and retain themselves and their henchmen in
power. This criticism applies, of course, to every political party in
democratically governed countries. But the first few years after the emergence
of Indian Independence witnessed the spectacle of large bodies of men suddenly
placed in positions where their actions could not be scrutinised by leaders of
the Opposition parties in a multi-party legislature. The prestige of the
Congress stood high, and strong criticism was hushed by a natural unwillingness
on the part of critics to blame those who had sacrificed their all in the cause
of freedom. The functions of the Opposition gradually passed to individual
Congressmen who were ‘private’ members of the Legislature. They formed groups
in the various States–U. P., Bengal, Madras–and invited disciplinary action
against themselves for criticising the official policy and programme of the
Congress organisation and of the Congress Cabinets. The time has now arrived
for men of different temperaments, though not of differing ideologies to form
themselves into distinct parties and contest the elections on the strength of
their short-range programmes for the economic uplift of the people. It is
unlikely that the dissident Congressmen and their non-Congress allies will be
returned in sufficient strength to form Governments, but, in every legislature,
Central or State, a well-knit and disciplined Opposition can offer healthy
criticism of Government measures, and provide the chance of an alternative
Government. It is the possibility of stepping into power at any moment that
will keep an Opposition within the limits of responsible and constructive
criticism. There can be no political sanity or ordered progress without the
proper organisation of nation-wide political parties, pledged to achieve their
ideals through peaceful, parliamentary methods. The ship of State has to be
steered clear of the twin-dangers of autocracy and anarchy. If the dissident
groups form a great Parliamentary Opposition, and establish healthy democratic
conventions, they will have renderd a service to the country. But personal
animosities are playing havoc in their ranks and the bid for political power
seems to involve them in an alliance with capitalist interests.
The
Indian political scene is a shifting one at the moment, but with the approach
of the elections, party alignments will take on a more definite shape. The
large mass of newly enfranchised citizens must learn to choose men with
clear-cut programmes, who will not only make promises on the eve of an election
but seek faithfully to implement them. And personal ability and a clean record
of public life ought to weigh with the electors, more than the wealth or the
social influence of the candidates. If the Party bosses, whether Congress or
non-Congress, ignore this personal factor and base their selection of
candidates on considerations solely of community or of petty services to the
party, they will be soon undeceived. The people are awake, and it is not easy
to bamboozle them into voting for someone, just because he has been ‘put up’ by
the bosses.
India
hopes that the foundations of Parliamentary democracy will be well and truly
laid when the present hectic period is over and the new Legislatures settle
down to work in an atmosphere of peace and goodwill as between different
communities and opposing political parties.
The
9th of June this year is an important date in the cultural history of India,
for Sri K. S. Venkataramani, a writer of outstanding eminence in English and
Tamil, completes sixty. The formal religious function will be celebrated at
Venkataramani’s ancestral home in Kaveripoompattinam, the old capital of the
Chola Kings. Some of his admirers, led by Sir C. P. Ramaswami Aiyar, wish to
mark the occasion by collecting a purse and presenting it to him in July, in
grateful recognition of his services to literature and to constructive thought
in many fields of national endeavour. The purse is just a symbol of the love
which every literary-minded Indian cherishes for Venkataramani.
Like
Ramesh Chandra Dutt and Rabindranath Tagore, he was a pathfinder, and strove
from his earliest years to give expression to the dreams of the men of his
generation. A Renascent India emerging from the clash of cultures, Eastern and
Western, and providing the spiritual nourishment for a New Humanity–that has
all along been Venkataramani’s vision. In delicate, intimate sketches like ‘Paper
Boats’ and broader imaginative sweeps like ‘Murugan’ and ‘Kandan’,
Venkataramani mirrored the life and thought of contemporary India. He evolved
an English prose style sensitive, rhythmic and vibrant with life, which earned
for him the signal honour of being hailed as ‘the Keats of prose’ by Dr. C. R.
Reddy, himself a master of style.
Looking
back on it all, and living once again in imagination the old college days of
1913-1917, I am proud, like other friends and companions of the youthful
Venkataramani, that Venkataramani has pursued the vision splendid and realised
it to the limited extent that any vision can be realised in the light of common
day. Latterly, Venkataramani has sounded a note of pessimism. There is just a
shade of bitterness in his criticism of men and movements in the
post-Independence era. While literary recognition came to him early in life,
and discerning critics in India and abroad have valued his contribution to
modern Indian thought, there is not enough of that appreciation of spiritual
values which, according to Venkataramani, will transmute even common men into
seekers of the Divine. A hard, matter of-fact, and ‘efficient’ outlook is
becoming widespread. India shares this outlook with the rest of the world, in a
war-torn age. But it is up to choice spirits like Venkataramani to shed their
pessimism and give us once again their message of hope, and their faith in a
life of culture that ennobles and uplifts man. To Venkataramani and to other
bringers of light belongs the future. Let us reverence them as the harbingers
of the New Age.
Dr.
C. Ramalinga Reddy was a great figure in the political and cultural life of
India. His was a career of sustained brilliance, as student in Madras and
Cambridge, as Professor in Baroda and Mysore, as a legislator and
Vice-Chancellor. While he achieved distinction in so many spheres, posterity
will remember him particularly as the maker of the Andhra University.
Educational reform, more especially at the University level, was a passion with
him. His eloquent speech at the Y. M. C. A, Madras, under the presidentship of
the late Dr. Sir S. Subrahmania Aiyar, in 1915, was a landmark. It was the
prelude to the formation of the Mysore and Andhra Universities, in which Dr.
Reddy played the leading role. For several years, he was chairman of the
Inter-University Board of India, and shaped the destinies of our centres of
learning.
Early
in life, he was closely associated with the group of scholars in Andhra
responsible for cultural efforts like the ‘Vijnana Chandrika’. He encouraged
the younger poets–Rayaprolu Subba Rao, Abburi Ramakrishna Rao, and D. Rami
Reddy–and he wrote a preface the Tholakari of Lakshmikantam and
Venkateswara Rao. But his attention was not confined to his mother tongue, Telugu,
which he loved dearly. He had always a good word to say of Venkataramani who
wrote in English or of Kailasam who wrote in Kannada. And when Prof.
Sukthankar, his contemporary at Cambridge, brought out his edition of the
Samskrit Mahabharata, Dr. Reddy collected funds to aid its publication.
Many
tributes have been paid to Dr. Reddy as an orator and as a conversationalist.
Amongst the leading men of that era who imbibed the culture of England, Dr.
Reddy was one of the foremost. His speeches were listened to with rapt
attention, and young and old hung on his words as on the exquisite nuances of
lofty music. And in any gathering of scholars, his scintillating wit was the
theme of admiration. Truly could it be said that where Dr. Reddy sat was the
head of the table. If Dr. Reddy did not fill high political office, it was
mainly because he was not a good ‘party man’. He was far too critical of
political programmes and could never discipline himself for steady constructive
work. In this he suffered from the defects of his qualities; his brilliance was
in itself a handicap. But there is nothing to regret in this. Dr. Reddy was
content to be himself and to serve the cause of educational progress, which was
his first love.