The Extension of Freedom Over All the World
The relationship of the Muslim League and the Indian National Congress has long been complex. From their mutual support in the Khalifat Movement[1] after the Great War, the two groups had become increasingly distant during the 1930s. It is not surprising in some ways; while Nehru and the INC’s leaders saw Muslims as another interest group, the Muslim League and its supporters as being far to willing to patronize Hindu bigots at the expense of Muslims, Untouchables, Sikhs, women, etc. Indeed, the INC openly rejected overtures from the Muslim League to form a coalition government in the Unite Provinces, telling the group its members would have to join the directly. No wonder Jinnah worried about the future of “Indian” democracy.
Still, for all Jinnah’s fears for the Muslim people, in majority Muslim provinces the League’s hold was yet limited. In Bengal, Fazl al-Haq’s Krishak Praja Party, which led various coalition governments after 1937, was dedicated to the uplift of the East Bengal tenantry; while in the Punjab Sikander Hayat’s Unionist Party, which had long had Hindu members, always represented itself as the defender of all Punjab’s agricultural classes. But perversely this lack of success ignited Muslim fears of being trapped by the Hindu majority, and so Jinnah and the Muslim league had an euphoric revival. In the next round of elections the Muslim League gained seats at the provincial and federal level; emboldened, in 1940 the League issued a manifest which declared that Muslims were not a minority within India, but a nation of their own. Yet nations are ambiguous terms; and in the early 1940s the Punjab, the cornerstone of the proposed “Pakistan”, was dominated by the Unionist Party, which represented rural Hindus and Muslims alike. Nor should we view Pakistan, with the potential to turn the Punjab into the Ulster of India, as the only option. In 1939, worried about the Muslim League’s renaissance and his own position, Sikander Hayat proposed a compromise solution, envisioning an Indian Federation and wrote to Gandhi about such a proposal. But it would take the Pacific War, and the Labor Government, to bring the Federation of India into being.
While the Attlee Government had engaged in talks during 1940 and 1941 about moving towards dominion status, conflicts were bedeviled by the issue of proportional representation at the federal level, minority safeguards at the provincial, control of the military, and the Dominion’s relationship with the Empire. Even as things were, the relationship with Britain was tense. Yet Attlee’s speech to parliament proved how things had changed. Speaking shortly after the attack on Singapore, he declared before Parliament that, “This is not a war against Japan. This is a war against imperialism, and the extension of freedom all over the world and equal access to all nations and all peoples of the good things of the world.”
What did this mean in the short term? For the duration of the war, the British viceroy in India appointed a “National” government, with members from Congress, the Muslim League, and other parties. Japan’s desperate attempts to stoke the fires of Indian nationalism failed pitifully, and Soviet aggression in Iran and Sinkiang only encouraged Nehru and other leftists within the Congress towards working towards a consensus with the Muslims. For its part, the Muslim League’s fortunes peaked in 1942 thanks to simple numbers. In provinces where Muslims were the majority, there was no incentive to form a Muslim-only party; in provinces where they weren’t, their influence was necessarily restricted. Moreover, the psychological shock of over a million Indians serving together in the Pacific War played an invaluable role in the state’s psyche; with the British promoted to a federal solution and regional Muslim leaders like Hayat now prominent at the national level, cries for a Muslim nation became increasingly absurd.
Still, the birth of the Indian Federation was painful. Hayat and his colleagues in Bengal had no desire to cede all power to Dehli. And so there were months of discussion and debate over the Confederation that took shape. There were crises; in a nation the size of India, how could there not? Mysore’s prince faced a popular revolution; Jinnah’s radicalism provoked rioting in Bombay, put down only when Gandhi fasted in the street. [2] To adequately maintain a delicate balance and protect human rights, India gained the world’s longest Constitution. [3] Nehru’s dreams of state planning failed to give India the prosperity its people needed. Yet the seeds of its economic boom were already being laid. For India’s federalism let Morarji Ranchhodji Desai, Prime Minister of Bombay [4], pursue a much more economically conservative policy. Bombay remained a center of British, and increasingly American, investment; and by the 1960s the province’s relative affluence helped embolden reformers there and elsewhere. The rest, as they say, is history.
First textiles, then transistor radios, then the world faces the nightmare of a video game industry spawning in a culture where four-armed gods do a dance of death as they drink the blood of their victims on the battlefield. It doesn't end well for Square.
It should have failed. 750 tongues, hundreds of millions of people of different faiths, building, slowly and painfully, a viable democracy? India’s first fifty years would see great changes, great joy and great sorrow. Islamic fundamentalism and communist guerillas. The Straits War. India would waver and crack. But in the end, it would hold. Because what is built endures, and what is loved endures. And India... India endures.
[1] Essentially, after the Great War India’s Muslims feared that Britain would depose the Caliph and destroy the position.
[2] Because he is that insane.
[3] Here’s the OTL Constitution:
http://lawmin.nic.in/coi/coiason29july08.pdf. It’s… wow.
[4] In this context, this means the state of Bombay.