The Merger

The coming together of the K. M. P. and Socialist Parties, and the final emergence of the Praja-Socialists as an all-India party wedded to constitutional, parliamentary democracy, are events of great significance in recent Indian history. During the last General Elections, the electorate had to choose between a bewildering variety of parties, not to mention the Independents owing no party allegiance. In the actual working of democratic institutions, the presence of a number of ‘unattached’ members of legislatures is apt to create confusion. The party position being in a state of continual flux, there can be no stable Government functioning for a resonable stretch of time. The leaders of the main parties–the government and the opposition–have to exhaust themselves in unending efforts to win over the Independents, who cannot hope to hold office but can turn the scales in moments of crisis. This generates an unhealthy atmosphere of intrigue, and even the most powerful of Cabinets cannot pursue a consistent policy for the welfare of the State. The organisation of the legislators of a country on party lines may have its disadvantages; in particular, it stifles individual initiative on the part of private members of every party. But it makes for a clear enunciation of political principles and programmes. The Citizen, when he exercises his vote, has a notion, however vague, of the kind of administration he is helping to put in office.

But even after the elimination of independent members, a multiplicity of political parties can still be built up, with distinct programmes, and occupying positions of varying degrees of importance, in between the Government and the Opposition, This again leads to frequent coalitions between one of the major parties and one or more of the minor ones, to ensure a working majority for the Government of the day. The coalition may be the result of ‘eve of election’ understandings, or of understandings arrived at in the brief interval between the declaration of the results of the election and the actual assumption of office by one of the major parties.

While an organised parliamentary opposition is the life-breath of democracy, and the surest antidote to the growth of totalitarianism, it is imperative that the opposition should not be a miscellaneous assortment of parties drawn together for the time being and acting with the sole object of overthrowing the Government, without regard to that Government’s wisdom and beneficence. To avoid the repeated emergence of opposition parties of this type, every democratic State should seek to limit its parties to two, so that there is always a well-knit opposition prepared to take up office and able to exercise restraint on its members.

Although India may be unable to enter so soon on a two party era, she must set her face against the continued functioning of too many minor parties. It is from this point of view that the formation of the Praja-Socialist Party is to be welcomed. When the present anomaly of a K.M.P.-Communist alliance in the State Legislature of Madras is brought to its inevitable end, it will become possible for the new Party to re-shape its policies on an all-India basis. During the last General Elections the slogan of the Socialists was, ‘Vote as you please, but not for the Congress or, the Communists.” They imagined they were forming an anti-Congress and anti-Communist front. On the other hand, the slogan of the K.M.P. was, “Vote for anyone except the Congress canditiate.” Their sole concern was the formation of a united opposition to the Congress. Thus there was a marked difference between the attitudes of the K.M.P. and Socialist Parties in relation to the Communists. In Andhra, the Communists made political capital out of the anti-Congress feeling generated by the persistent appeals of erstwhile Congress leaders like Sri T. Prakasam to “throw out the Congress”. While the K.M.P. led Prakasam hoped to gain a majority of the seats from the Andhra area, they merely helped the Communists to achieve victories far beyond their expectations.

The leaders of the Praja Socialist Party must soon make up their minds as to which is the ‘lesscr evil’ in Indian public life–the Communists or the Congress. If their devotion to peaceful democratic methods for the winning of political power is sincere, and it, further, they are convinced that the Communists are in error in their adherence to violence and their allegiance to an outside Power, the leaders of the Praja-Socialist Party must show a marked preference for the Congress. If, in future, a situation arises in which the country has to choose between democracy and dictatorship, and between non-violence and violencc in the shaping of our home politics, the Praja-Socialists must definitely align themselves with the Congress. Quite apart from such future developments, they ought to prepare themselves even now for closer co-operation with the Congress Governments at the Centre and in the States, in all matters concerning the progress and welfare of the Indian Union. The line that divides them from the Congress is thin; their differences are temperamental rather than, doctrinal. Even the doctrinal differences are not such as to exclude the possibility of common action in the immediate future. It is by adopting this attitude that they can stave off a violent revolution, to which they are as much opposed as the Congress.

The Press Commission

A Press Commission has been appointed to investigate the many problems affecting Indian journalism and to determine the relations between the profession, the Government, and the public. Its personnel has not given satisfaction in certain quarters, on the ground particularly that influential bodies like the Southern India journalists Federation are not represented on it. It is also urged that a weightage has been given to the exponents of the view that journalism is an industry and a trade, and no longer a profession and a mission. The importation of Trade Union methods into the field of journalism is resented by some of the older Indian journalists. Having devoted the best part of their lives to the profession of journalism at a time when material rewards were few and the ideals of service and sacrifice were in the ascendant, they find it difficult to realise why present day entrants into the sacred shrine should think so much of wages, bonuses and increments.

The invasion of the money power, and with it the emergence of a new class of Press Barons has, however, wrought a change. The big daily newspapers, like the big Cinema Studios, involve the expenditure of money on vastly increased scale. As in all other commercial concerns, the management keeps a vigilant eye on the balance sheets and the profit and loss accounts. There is a perpetual effort to increase the returns and keep down the costs of production. In this new atmosphere of commercialism, the interests of young journalist are likely to be overlooked. He has, therefore, to increase his bargaining strength by becoming a member of an organised body which can treat with the management on terms of equality and even summon the State power to intervene in times of conflict. This situation has a depressing effect on the old time idealists. But the Press Commission has to deal with it.

The future of periodical journalism–particularly that section of it which is devoted to Art and Letters and the unbiased study of public questions–is gloomy. In recent years, several journals of this type have disappeared for lack of financial support. This will affect adversely the cultural life of the country, and a national Government interested in culture must come to the rescue of such journals. But if high standards are to be maintained, the subventions or grants should be “without any strings,” and similar to the grants to Universities and societies for scientific research. A periodical might not make a profit, nor even pay its way from its subscription and advertisement revenue. And yet it might up-hold values which are of the utmost significance to the future of the nation and of humanity. The Commission can suggest ways and means to strengthen this section of the Indian Press.

Bapiraju, Messenger of Light

The passing away of Adivi Bapiraju, a leading figure in the cultural renaissance of South India, following so close upon that of K. S. Venkataramani, has left me dazed and utterly broken in spirit. The tributes that have been paid to Bapiraju’s memory since that fateful 22nd of September, in the Press and on the platform, are surcharged with emotion. They reveal the intensity of the affection and admiration roused in the public mind by Bapiraju’s life-long dedication to Art and Letters.

Bapiraju was a born poet and artist. Even as a schoolboy, he wrote Telugu verse and drew pencil sketches of his friends. But it was his college days at Rajahmundry that formed an important landmark in his career of cultural aspiration and fulfillment. He came, like other bright young men of his generation, under the beneficent influence of Principal Oswald Couldrey. This gifted Oxford scholar perceived intuitively the value of the classic tradition in Indian painting and sculpture. He sensed, too, the beauty of our folk-songs and popular fairs and festivals. He enabled his students to cultivate a love of the Beautiful. Damerla Rama Rao and Adivi Bapiraju were among his favourites. So too were the cousins, Damerla Venkata Rao and Kavikondala Venkata Rao. Mr. Couldrey took his students to great centres of Indian Art like Ajanta and Ellora, Sanchi and Kanchipuram, shaped them into savants and creative artists, and, with remarkable affection dedicated his ‘South Indian Hours’ to them. Mr. Couldrey had to resign from the Indian Educational Service all too soon owing to hardness of hearing. He now lives in retirement in far-away Abingdon, Berkshire, but once a year the Couldrey Day is celebrated in the Rajahmundry College with great zeal.

All this was before the Gandhian movement of 192I. Bapiraju, who had taken his B.A. degree, was drawn into the national struggle for freedom and went to prison for an year. Then followed a period of uncertainty as to his future career. I was then Vice-Principal of the Andhra Jateeya Kalasala (National College) of Masulipatam, having changed from the profession of Law into Congress propaganda, then to daily journalism in Swarajya founded by Sri T. Prakasam, and then again to cultural effort in the Kalasala under the guidance of Dr. Pattabhi Sitaramayya and Sri Mutnuri Krishna Rao. The idealist-founder of the Kalasala, Sri Kopalle Hanumantha Rao, was no more, but the Poet Sri Viswanatha Satyanarayana and the Painter Sri Promode Kumar Chatterjee were my colleagues. Art-students like Mallaiah, Ram Mohan Sastri, Ananda Mohan Sastri, and Veluri Ramamurti sat at the feet of Sri Chatterjee. Young Gopala Reddi was a student of literature and history. One day I thought of Bapiraju and wondered why he should not be one of us. I invited him for a brief stay during which I induced him to become a regular student of our Art Section. The management provided him with a scholarship, and his family and mine shared the same palmyrah cottage.

How vividly I remember those days! Bapiraju and myself felt we were twin-souls, companions through the ages, destined to share our dreams and our achievements. The dreams were often shattered, and the achievement hindered, by the continual struggle against adversity. But throughout our chequered careers extending over three decades, our mutual love sustained us. We were nearly of the same age; we pursued different but closely allied paths.² Beinng a creative artist, Bapiraju achieved eminence as a novelist and short-story writer, as poet and composer of songs, as painter and play-wright, adorning whatever he touched. He exerted a profound influence by his eloquent speeches on Indian Art and Literature. I have not risen to those heights. I played the humbler role of a journalist and friend of poets and artists. I sought, through Triveni, to mirror the cultural movements in different parts of India, and felt grateful for the affection showered on me by my cultured friends. Of these, Bapiraju was one of the dearest. He was the first Associate Editor of Triveni when it was founded in Madras in December 1927. He designed the cover, contributed translations of a friend’s poems from Telugu, and took part in the inaugural function. Reproductions of his paintings and renderings of his stories and songs from Telugu lent distinction to the journal.

But all this is as nothing compared to the illumination he brought into the lives of friends like me. He spread sunshine where there was gloom and created harmony out of discord. To the last, he was full of hope–planning and dreaming. He was, indeed a Messenger of Light. Since he has gone back to those Realms of Light where he truly belongs, the identical thought comes to me and to other friends of his: “Can life ever be the same without Bapiraju!”.

It was one of Bapiraju’s gracious habits to dedicate his novels and collections of songs and poems to his friends. He dedicated a novel to me and composed a special song of dedication. I was pleased beyond words, but a little hurt because he did not send me a copy of the book when it was published. I read the book somewhere, and at our next meeting, chaffed him for his negligence. His reply was ‘characteristic: “Don’t you know why I omitted to send you the book? It was so badly printed and got-up that I was afraid the fastidious Editor of Triveni would decline a gift of that kind. But, very soon, I shall bring out a De Luxe edition of it and offer it to you at a special function, with music and dance and the fragrance of jasmine and rose! That beautiful dream was not fulfilled. But what a wealth of affection lay behind it!

Yes, his books must be published with great care, and albums of his paintings too. The Madras Government Museum preserves his copies of the frescoes of Sigitiya in Ceylon. As the years pass, a great deal of posthumous recognition will come to him. While he lived, life was hard for him. He paid the penalty of genius, and trod his path with bleeding feet. But there was smile on his lips–symbolic of the Light within.

¹ October 10

²After finishing his course in the Art Section of the Kalasala, Bapiraju joined the Law College, Madras, took his B.L. degree, and practised Law for a short time in his home-town, Bhimavaram. He went back to the Kalasala as Principal from 1935 to 1939. Thereafter he was art-director of a Telugu film in Madras, migrating thence to Hyderabad as Editor of a Telugu Daily which was eventually wound up before the Police action. He was 57 when he passed away.

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