INDIA'S POTENTATES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 164, 13 July 1935, Page 9 (Supplement)

INDIA'S POTENTATES.

FABULOUS PRINCES.

DIVUfE RIGHT MENACED.

THE CHILL OF A NEW DAWN".

India is confronted by a new crisis. It is not Gandhi, whose spectacles and sandals disturbed the orderly scene, nor are Moslems rioting against Hindus. Trouble has arisen where trouble was least expected. The princes of India ara protesting. It is a very courteous crisis. In approaching the King-Emperor, the princes remember how they desire themselves to be approached. The complaint is clothed by lawyers of eminence in a costume of compromise. The question that they put so politely is pertinent. Is the alliance between Britain and the princes to bo in the future what it has been in the past? Is it an alliance on which the princes, as they face an uncertain prospect, can absolutely rely? India is undergoing a rapid transition, she is conscious of a destiny that includes the whole of India. That unity is embodied in a Federal Constitution now before the British Parliament. The provinces, directly governed by Britain, are embraced in that Constitution as a matter of course. The princes on their side are dubious. It was imprudent to resist federation, and, at round-table conferences in London, where the scheme was discussed, their Highnesses took part. On second thought, they are trying to rescue that co-operation to a minimum. Fear of Future and Aware of Past. ATI that the princes care about—the very essence of divine right—is threatened, as they think, by what may be involved in federation. If India be united, will the native States, now ruled by the princes, retain their present autonomy? And if a federated India used the franchise, what will happen to the autocracy of the princes ? The Government of India has adopted what has been called a Princes Protection Act, the object of which is to arrest subversive tendencies around the native States. But will the government at Delhi be to-morrow what it is to-day? What if the British Raj becomas a pseudonym for Indian nationalism? What if the price of British support should be reform of the native States I What if Britain were to leave India altogether? The princes are not only afraid of the future. They are aware of the past. They know that, for thousands of years, sovereignty in India was a constantly changing kaleidoscope in which dynasties rose and fell in a day. They have no desire again to be plunged into any such chaos. Hence they are taking precautions. The native States used to be disintegrated by rivalries, and it was the policy of Britain to allow these rivalries to continue. Each prince has his own individual arrangement with the KingEmperor—it may be a solemn treaty; it may only be a "sanad" or letter recognising and confirming the authority of the prince as a sovereign. The princes are now making common cause. Britain has her House of Lords; let the Council of Princes at Delhi be fortified as a citadel of a ruling caste, similarly consolidated. The importance of the issue that has developed is worldwide. The princes reign over nearly two-fifths of Indian territory and nearly a quarter of the Indian people. They are obeyed by 80,000,000 subjects and, as a rule, the obedience is implicit. Two of the Indian States —Hyderabad and' Kashmir—are as extensive in area as Britain herself. A Brave Assortment. In a world transformed by revolution, there is nothing that can be compared even remotely with the elaborated royalty of India. There are rajahs and maharajahs and maharajadhirajahs; there are gaekwars, nawabs and thakursahibs, of which potentates no fewer than 119 are greeted with a salute of guns—twenty-one guns to eleven guns, according to prestige. Also there are 441 chieftains of lower rank who, without the assistance of a salute, administer or are helped to' administer their possessions. This numerous and varied aristocracy is enveloped in all the grandeur of the gorgeous East. It is the splendour of Bagdad under Haroun-al-Raschid —fact that is stranger than fiction —which survives amid the science and the scepticism of the twentieth century. With little restraint the Indian princes have luxuriated in the riches, the romance and the irresponsibilities of the Arabian Nights. They now awaken to the dawn of reality. It is a cold, chill dawn, in which institutions of every kind are judged by their results. Even a Czardom was weighed in the balance and found wanting. Even a maharajah must b© appraised, not only by his magnificence but by his merits. The cost of the British Raj in India, including the army, works out at one dollar, seventy cents per head of population. In Hyderabad, the leading native State, the government costs two dollars fifty cents a head, and in. Kashmir the cost is near three dollars a head. The people in the native States nay receive benefits which justify the higher expenditure. But do they appreciate these benefits? The States are scattered throughout India and represent a cross-section of the country. The density of population in British India is 270 per square mile. In the States it is only 140 per square mile. As a purveyor of pomp, a prince puts on a brave show. ceremonial occasions—durbars, weddings, coronations and the like —the display of jewels is lavish beyond belief. Elephants are caparisoned with cloth of gold and suimounted by silver howdahs that slowly sway as the parade advances. The little companies of household troops, with pennons gayly adorning their erect lances, are an escort of which any sovereign might be proud. The entertainment is so glittering that sometimes it seems worth the money that undoubtedly it costs. is the pleasure of the princes that are bringing the most serious .criticism. The palaces are not merely spectacles of ' pomp and power. Beneath the crown of cupolas and pinnacles, the walls are crowded with latticed windows that see the world outside but show no world within. Majesty recedes into mystery. A Costly Indiscretion. The British Raj is not so rude as to lift the veil that screens the_ faint sounds of tinkling trinkets. It is only when some open scandal arises that action has to be taken. The former Maharajah of Indore — husband of Nancy Miller of Seattle—was quite free, if . he wished, to-favour -and-iodiscaßda,

nautch dancer called Mumtaz Begum. When, however, she escaped to Bombay with her little hoard of his jewels, His Highness had no right to permit a pursuit. Bombay is not Lidore. It is British territory, and the murder of a merchant in Bombay who had shown hospitality to the fugitive was an indiscretion—an attack on British officials who tried to defend the victim with their golf sticks. It cost the Maharajah, not indeed the wealth that he had accumulated, but his throne. From the rustling folds of the tapestried purdah, one basic fact emerges. Somebody has to pay for the private life of the prince. The court of King George, with his world-wide responsibilities, costs the taxpayers of Great Britain not more than one per cent of the public revenues. The Indian princes cost the taxpayers of a far poorer population 10 per cent, 20 per cent and even more. Increasing Discontent. Why do the people submit to the high cost of government under these princes and to the taxation which goes to the support of these extravagant rulers? Several facts may be mentioned. The mass of the people are still illiterate. The Press is in its infancy and carefully controlled. The prince is master of courts and police, and against his justice there is no appeal. To offend him is to take a serious risk. It is well understood that the Viceroy will assist the princes in suppressing rebellion. If his support were withdrawn it is said that discontent would be much more! vocal; to-day it is increasing. But tradition—sacred and secular— is still powerful, and. the people have never known anything except personal rule. They still cling to creeds, costumes, customs and handicrafts which have been handed down through the centuries, and it is in the prince that this conservatism is embodied. Ho sums up the entire landscape. Religion in India is a profound actuality among the people, and the princes are heads, not only of the State but of whatever may be the church—the mosque of the Mohammedan or the temple of the Hindu. If Kismet Falters. There is one personality whose position is as prominent as it is peculiar. The Aga Khan owes his fame and his | fortune to one circumstance. He is descended from the prophet. Millions of Moslems contribute to his maintenance. It is in Europe that he spends much of* his time and his money. In the smart society of London and Paris no figure is more familiar than his. Generally he beams at banquets. Regardless of cost, he runs a successful stable. His name appears in paragraphs. His face is caricatured in cartoons. His most advertised exploit was also the most disputable. It was a quick courtship. A flower-girl in France struck his susceptible fancy. He made her a proposal. She stipulated that the marriage must bo legal, and the Aga Khan agreed. At the Mairie, the Moslem bridegroom and his Catholic bride I were gleefully snapshotted by the camera men; and the wife—dutiful as demure —presented the Aga Khan with a son and heir. A distant India has to acknowledge this infant as the latest descendant of tlio prophet. It is kismet. But can that kind of thing last ?—P. W. Wilson in the New York "Times."