The book begins with a shock to most Indians and students of Indian history. I have always thought the British Indian Empire spanned what are India, Pakistan and Bangladesh today. The partition of India meant the act of carving Pakistan out of India. Historian Sam Dalrymple's well-researched book reveals the vast expanse of the British Indian Empire, stretching from Aden to Myanmar. Covering present-day territories, it included Aden, Yemen, Oman, the UAE, Qatar, Bahrain, Kuwait, Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Bhutan, and Myanmar. Besides its expanse, the other surprise the author springs on us is that the Indian Empire was partitioned five times, not just once in 1947. Burma separated first in 1937, and then came the partition of the Arabian Peninsula, which included Aden and the Persian Gulf states in 1937 and 1947. The third was the Great Partition, creating Pakistan in 1947. Next was the partition of the Indian princely states between India and Pakistan starting in 1947. The fifth was to create Bangladesh in 1971. British India split across twelve states between 1937 and 1971, thirteen if we include Britain! This is the story of how the British Indian Empire unraveled. We learn how politicians in London, revolutionaries in Delhi, kings in remote palaces, and soldiers in trenches redrew its map in boardrooms and on battlefields. When I got to the end, I felt like I had woken up to the truth about India’s 20th-century history. It left me wondering whether the Indian school and university system had lied to me about what British India was and how it broke up. However, after the initial confusion passed, I had some questions about Dalrymple’s portrayal and realized that I could not agree with all the book’s conclusions without further discussion.
Dalrymple’s research is extensive, and it allows him to present a sweeping and ambitious view of historical events. A concise book review cannot perhaps do it full justice. Readers must explore this volume to unearth the complex details recounting the empire’s collapse. I will therefore focus only on a few key topics I found interesting. The initial problem I had with Dalrymple was classifying everything as partitions, implying they were alike. If we use the term ‘Partition’ to refer to the Great Partition of 1947, our perspective on others needs to shift. The Great Partition of India formed a key event in history, involving substantial violence, trauma, and tragedy affecting millions. Other partitions felt unlike the powerful emotions connected to India’s Great Partition. Not even the breakup of Pakistan comes close. To illustrate, separating the Arabian Peninsula amounted to an administrative reorganization in comparison. The partition of Burma witnessed racial riots and the forced ‘long march’ of 600,000 Indians to the mainland under horrendous conditions. But the Congress Party was quite happy to let Burma go. Even Mahatma Gandhi said in 1927 that Burma cannot form part of India on independence and that the Burmese must decide on their future by themselves. Indian elites were concerned with freedom only for the region called ‘Bharat’, which comprised today’s India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Burma’s emergence as a sovereign state was a voluntary, though not altogether peaceful, separation from the British Indian Empire. The resolution regarding the princely states does not seem like a “fourth partition”. Out of the almost six hundred princely states, only Hyderabad and Kashmir suffered military violence in their integration with India or Pakistan. The remaining states unified with either India or Pakistan because of circumstance, or pressure or plebiscites, without bloodshed.
The most recent partition that created Bangladesh did not happen through an agreement involving Punjabis and Bengalis. If there was ever a partition of Bengal, it occurred in 1905, engineered by Viceroy Lord Curzon. It is surprising that Dalrymple has not referred to it. Curzon divided the vast province of Bengal, creating East Bengal for Muslims and West Bengal for Hindus. He marketed it as an “administrative convenience,” but Indian nationalists were furious, protesting that it was “divide and rule”. The protests were fierce and persistent, forcing the colonial rulers to revoke the decision in 1911. What happened sixty years later in 1971 was the breakup of Pakistan into Pakistan and Bangladesh through the Bengali revolt and military intervention by India. Therefore, I believe there was just one partition - India’s Great Partition.
Blaming Gandhi and the Congress for the Great Partition is my next concern. During the partition fiasco, Churchill and Lord Attlee showed greater sympathy toward Muslim Pakistan than Hindu India. The ready explanation is that the British love the underdogs, and Indian Muslims were the underdogs in India. Dalrymple too reflects it as he blames the Congress party and Gandhi for partition. One reason he gives is that the Congress party adopted Vande Mataram as India’s national song in 1937. It alienated Jinnah because this act viewed the nation as the Hindu goddess Durga, making him see Congress as a vehicle for Hindu majoritarianism. This laid the ideological groundwork to create Pakistan. Dalrymple also blames Gandhi for bringing religion into the politics of India’s freedom struggle, alienating the secular Jinnah. These are valid arguments, but I have come across more convincing alternative explanations for Jinnah’s focus on partition. Jinnah was a member of the Indian Muslim elite. Indian Muslim journalist M.J. Akbar identifies a ‘theory of distance’ amongst the Muslim elite in India from the 18th century onwards. This theory contends that Hindus and Muslims are different people. It posits that Indian Muslims can protect their interests and way of living only through independent nationhood. It was the Muslim educated-elites’ view and not that of the Deoband Dar-ul-Uloom, the primary Islamic clergy of South Asia. The Muslim League leadership included large landowners. They wanted the partition of India so they could seize more land by driving out big Hindu and Sikh landowners from Punjab and Bengal. The Muslim educated elite and middle-class also had a vested interest in partition. They hoped to advance more easily in the Pakistani bureaucracy without the more numerous Hindu elite competing with them. So, there were more objective pressures on Jinnah than just Gandhi’s religious asceticism or India being worshipped as Goddess Durga.
The book explores alternate histories, considering several “what if” scenarios. Some are in the realms of fantasy, some hypothetical, while others are genuine possibilities. We start with the Arabian Peninsula. Dalrymple hypothesizes that had the colonial authorities not divided the Arabian Peninsula into princely monarchies, most of them, excluding Saudi Arabia, might have integrated into India or Pakistan. This would have brought with it the immense wealth of their hydrocarbons. It is a tantalizing thought for today’s Hindu nationalists and the Pakistani military, who may salivate at the thought of all this forsaken oil wealth. It lives within the realm of fantasy. Even if the Arabian Peninsula had affiliated itself with India, its quest for independence would soon have followed it. The Great Partition showed us we could not co-exist even with fellow Indian Muslims, whose culture, language, food, and many other traditions were the same. What chance did India have of coexisting with Arabs under their rule?
Kashmir posed another ‘if only’ experiment. Before Raja Hari Singh signed his accession, militant lashkar raiders from Pakistan advanced on Kashmir in October 1947 to Baramullah, just an hour from Srinagar’s airport. But they camped there, looting, killing and raping for three days, which gave India enough time to move troops to defend Kashmir. Dalrymple states that, given an advance upon Srinagar that same night, the lashkar would have conquered it. Kashmir would now be under Pakistan. This was a realistic ‘what if’ scenario. Another plausible scenario for Kashmir occurred when Mountbatten offered Jinnah a tempting proposition in November 1947. If Jinnah convinced the lashkar to withdraw, Britain would then organize a joint plebiscite in Kashmir and other similar states. This would resemble Junagadh’s plebiscite, involving the UN with joint Indian-Pakistani supervision. Had Jinnah accepted it, the Kashmir problem could have ended there with Pakistan winning the plebiscite. India’s Sardar Patel admitted later that India would have agreed to Kashmir if Pakistan had agreed to Hyderabad right there. Instead, Jinnah rejected it over a technicality, leaving Mountbatten incredulous! What if Jinnah had agreed?
One more alternative scenario presents a possibility that is quite astonishing. In 1946, to solve the deadlock between the Congress and the Muslim League, Viceroy Wavell’s cabinet mission proposed an ingenious solution. This vision would grant Pakistan to the Muslim League, not as a separate nation, but as part of a loose Indian federation. It was like Scotland and Wales being bound to the UK. Astonishingly, Jinnah accepted it. But the North-West Frontier Province (NWFP) was Congress-dominated. So, Nehru and Gandhi wanted it excluded from Pakistan. It was a trivial amendment, but it made Jinnah furious, and he rescinded his acceptance. He saw it as Congress’ betrayal. The mission collapsed. What if Congress had condemned the Pashtuns to Pakistan against their wishes? What if Jinnah had allowed the NWFP to be part of India? Yet another minor counterfactual was that Jinnah died just thirteen months after Indian independence. He had suffered for years from tuberculosis and lung cancer. Mountbatten remarked after Jinnah’s death that had he known about his serious condition, he would have delayed Indian independence, which may have prevented the Great Partition. It was more fantasy, less possibility. The momentum towards Pakistan as a Muslim homeland had progressed too far by 1948 for Jinnah’s death to have any reversing impact.
While looking at the British Indian Empire disintegrating, the author’s sympathies and concern are with the small states, underdogs and ethnic minorities, as befitting a young liberal westerner. On the flip side, this leads to a detached, colder view of the majority population and their concerns. Dalrymple writes with empathy, discussing the distress of small ethnic minorities like the Nagas, Mizos, and the Rohingya. However, he does not mention Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan in this context. Khan opposed partition until the end, desiring an undivided India where the Pashtuns would have autonomy or merge with Afghanistan. Dalrymple’s take on the princely states reflects a strong nostalgia for a bygone era of pomp, glamour and splendour of the Maharajahs. He longs for the patronage of the age-old traditions of music, dance, art and crafts and how the Nawab protected the wildlife in Junagadh. The princes employed thousands of bards, artists, courtesans, camel trainers and courtly cooks. They became unemployed because of these states’ integration with India or Pakistan. This holds true, but only in part. The princes also indulged in elaborate, ritualistic hunts, resulting in the deaths of thousands of tigers, birds, and other animals. These hunts showcased political power, masculinity, and social standing, often used to forge alliances with British officials. For example, the Maharaja of Gwalior killed 39 tigers in just 10 days during King George V’s 1911 visit. While Dalrymple holds onto nostalgia, most Indians and Pakistanis remember the princes for the poverty and illiteracy their subjects endured. Despite all this, the princes got an honorable exit to a comfortable existence. Even an impressed Soviet premier Khrushchev asked, “How did India manage to ‘liquidate the princely states’ without liquidating the princes?”.
This review may look as if I have only negative comments about the book, but in reality, I enjoyed reading the book immensely. It was a gripping narrative with a lot of snippets about leaders like Gandhi, Jinnah, Nehru, Edwina Mountbatten, Sarojini Naidu and others. I liked Dalrymple’s creative look at how the Empire disintegrated through his prism of five partitions. Readers interested in the history of the British Indian Empire in the twentieth century will find this book ‘unputdownable’. In today’s Hindu nationalist India, there is a frenzy of rewriting Indian history by spewing lies based on hatred and prejudice. This book comes as an antidote to this approach with its scientific thinking and deep research. It is a well-written contribution to twentieth-century Indian history.