The Life and Death of Mahatma Gandhi (The Robert Payne Library)

by Robert Payne

  Godse’s plan was to overwhelm Gandhi from all sides: some would shoot at him with pistols, others would throw hand grenades. He must be attacked in such a way that there would be no possibility of his survival.

  The plan however progressed slowly, chiefly because there were insuperable difficulties in obtaining weapons and ammunition. He wanted a minimum of two revolvers, two guncotton slabs and five hand grenades, and Badge was asked to supply them. On January 10 there was a meeting at the Hindu Rashtra office in Poona attended by Godse, Apte and Badge. By this time Badge had acquired the guncotton and hand grenades together with detonators and primers, and he agreed to send them to the Hindu Mahasabha office in Bombay at the latest by the evening of Januaiy 14. He had been unable to find two revolvers, and he would spend a good deal of time during the following days in a vain search for them. Godse, too, was determined to search for them. By this time Karkare, Pahwa, and Kistayya had joined the plotters, and for the moment their principal service was to act as messenger boys.

  On January 13 it was learned that Gandhi was about to undertake a fast unto death. There were many reasons for undertaking the fast, but the one which rankled most in Godse’s mind was Gandhi’s insistence that the Government of India should no longer withhold the payment of 550 million rupees to Pakistan. Assuming that Gandhi survived the fast, Godse was determined to destroy him at his next appearance on the prayer ground at Birla House.

  January 13 was the day of final decision, for on this day Godse, expecting to die in the attempt or to be arrested and sentenced to death, nominated his brother’s wife and Apte’s wife as beneficiaries of his life insurance policies. He was not rich, and the policies amounted to only 5,000 rupees. On the following day Gopal Godse, working in the motor-transport subdepot at Kirkee, four miles from Poona, requested seven days’ casual leave of absence. This was not granted, because he was due to face disciplinary action. He repeated the request two days later, and it was granted. The disciplinary charges were not thought to be sufficiently serious to keep him at Kirkee.

  About this time Dr. Jagdish Chandra Jain, a professor at Ruia College in Bombay, encountered Madanlal Pahwa in the street. The professor had befriended Pahwa in the past, giving him some odd jobs, and helping him to settle down after his terrible experiences in the Punjab. Pahwa was evidently under strong emotion, and when he asked Dr. Jain if he could come and talk with him, a meeting was arranged at eight o’clock in the evening. At this meeting Pahwa spoke about his various activities at Ahmednagar with a group of conspirators financed by Karkare; weapons and ammunition were being collected; they hoped to organize detachments of young Hindus against the Muslims. But it was not to relate these matters that he had come to see the professor, for as the evening wore on it became increasingly evident that he had more important matters to discuss.

  For a while Pahwa spoke mysteriously about a plot against an Indian leader, whose name he refused to divulge. Finally he admitted that the plot was directed against Gandhi and that he had been entrusted with the task of throwing the bomb at the prayer meeting. As he described it, the explosion of the bomb would create confusion and the conspirators would then be able to “overpower” Gandhi Apparently it was not a question of killing him; he would be kidnapped and reduced to silence.

  At this time there was considerable feeling against Gandhi and the Congress in Bombay, and Dr. Jain thought Pahwa was just one more of the confused, angry and dispirited people who made vague threats against the Congress leaders. He did not take Pahwa seriously, told him he was acting like a foolish child and should stop all this nonsense. When Pahwa called on him a day or two later, Dr. Jain said: “I hope you have taken my advice.” Pahwa replied that he was under a deep sense of obligation to the teacher, whom he regarded as a father, and if he failed to take this advice he was doomed. Comforted by Pahwa’s promises, Dr. Jain returned to his studies.

  In fact Pahwa was a dedicated member of the conspiracy and took part in the conference held in the evening of January 14 at the Hindu Mahasabha office in Bombay, which was attended by Godse, Apte, Karkare, Badge and Kistayya. Badge brought along the guncotton and the hand grenades concealed in a khaki canvas bag. Arrangements for the journey to Delhi were sketched out, the duties of each conspirator were carefully explained, and Badge was paid for the guncotton and hand grenades. He was also given some money for traveling expenses. The meeting began about 8:00 P.M. An hour later Godse and Apte drove to Savarkar’s house, taking Badge with them. Nothing was ever discovered about this visit, which lasted five or ten minutes. Badge said they took the khaki bag with them, and they still had it when they returned to the waiting automobile. The question uppermost in Godse’s mind was to find a place where he could hide the khaki bag with its dangerous contents, and on Badge’s advice they took it to the house of Dixit Maharaj, a well-known nationalist and religious leader, whose elder brother was the chief priest of a local Vaishnava sect. Dixit Maharaj knew Badge well, having frequently bought knives, daggers and other weapons from him, saying they would be distributed among Hindus living near Muslim states for their protection. He was therefore a man who could be expected to be closemouthed and he would think nothing of hiding a khaki bag, whatever its contents. By this time it was about 9:30 P.M., Dixit Maharaj had gone to bed, and the servants refused to wake him. Badge decided to leave the bag with one of the servants.

  The comings and goings of conspirators have an air of dreamlike irrelevance. The conspiracy takes on a life of its own apart from the conspirators, making strange and sometimes impossible demands on them. They knew they must act secretly, but there was something in the nature of the conspiracy which compelled them to announce their plans to a surprisingly large number of people. They knew they must act cautiously, and they threw caution to the winds. They must think logically and reasonably, but instead they think like children. There was no reason why they should hide the bag in Dixit Maharaj’s house that night, for it could be hidden in a hundred other places where it would be just as safe. The nature of the conspiracy demanded that they should go wandering hither and thither in search of an unattainable safety.

  The next morning they decided to retrieve the bag, and so once more they all went to the house of Dixit Maharaj, who was lying ill in bed, but voluble and deeply interested in their projects. He regarded himself as an expert in weapons and discussed with them the best way to throw a hand grenade. At the trial when he was produced as a witness he explained that he remembered the meeting perfectly because an astrologer had predicted that he would suffer severe bodily harm on January 17 and the meeting occurred exactly two days before. On January 17 he fell and broke a leg. As for the advice given about throwing hand grenades, he wanted the court to remember that he was never informed about the conspiracy and thought the weapons would be used against Muslims in Hyderabad.

  Badge received the bag, gave it to Apte, who in turn gave it to Karkare. It was then given to Pahwa with instructions that it should be wrapped up in his bedding roll, which had been brought along for this purpose. Karkare and Pahwa left the house and later in the day took the train for Delhi, which they reached on January 17. They had hoped to find accommodation at the Hindu Mahasabha in Delhi, but the building was crowded and they found a room in a cheap hotel in Chandni Chowk in Old Delhi. Karkare gave an assumed name to the hotel clerk, but Pahwa gave his real name. He was the least secretive of the conspirators and seemed to take pleasure in leaving clear traces wherever he went.

  Above all, Nathuram Godse needed a revolver, but so far he had been unable to find one. Dixit Maharaj said he had a pistol, but he refused to lend it Godse spoke of “an important mission,” for which it was absolutely necessary to have one or two revolvers in good working order, but Dixit Maharaj still refused to part with his pistol. Unable to convince Dixit Maharaj to hand over his pistol, Godse turned for help to Badge, saying that at all costs he must have a revolver by the next day. Badge went to work, and he was able to buy back a revolver from an old client of his ca
lled Suryadeo Sharma. Now at last they were fully armed, for in addition to this revolver they could make use of the service revolver which Gopal Godse had brought back from abroad.

  By this time there were probably fifty people who knew or guessed that a conspiracy to kill Gandhi or some other important Indian leader was afoot. Nathuram Godse had been scouring Bombay for money to assist his “important mission,” hinting that it was needed for operations in Hyderabad but not averse to making darker hints that he was after more important prey. He had collected 2,000 rupees, enough to pay for railroad and airplane fares, and he had talked to seven or eight people excluding the other conspirators about his plans. Dada Maharaj learned about these plans from his brother Dixit Maharaj. Dr. Jain had heard about them from Madanlal Pahwa, and there is little doubt that the workers in the Hindu Mahasabha were aware that the conspiracy was being organized and had gone beyond the stage when it could be broken up. Already it had acquired a momentum of its own.

  By the evening of January 19 all the conspirators had arrived in Delhi They came in small groups, by train and airplane. Karkare and Pahwa arrived by train on the 17th, Gopal Godse arrived the following day, while Badge and Kistayya arrived late in the evening of the 19th. The chief conspirators, Nathuram Godse and Narayan Apte, took the afternoon airplane on the 17th. Dada Maharaj, the priest of the Vaishnava temple, traveled on the same airplane as far as Ahmedabad. On the airplane he had a short talk with Apte, who was boasting of the great changes his small organization would soon bring about.

  “You have been talking a lot,” Dada Maharaj commented, “but it does not appear that anything has been done.”

  “When we do the work, then you will know,” Apte replied quietly and firmly.

  Thirteen days later the work was done.

  The Murder

  THE MORNING of January 20, 1948, broke bright and clear. There were headlines in the newspapers about Gandhi’s quick recovery from his fast, but there was no other news of any great importance. It was a Tuesday, and as usual the crowds were milling around Connaught Place and Chandni Chowk. Nehru spent the day in his official residence, formerly the house of the British commander in chief, not far from Birla House. Delhi was enjoying the sense of illusory peace which came about because Gandhi had threatened a fast unto death unless there was peace.

  At 8:30 A.M. four of the conspirators set out for Birla House. They were Apte, Karkare, Badge and Kistayya. For some reason Nathuram Godse took no part in this preliminary reconnaissance. Apte and his companions drove in a taxi to the main gate of Birla House, where they were stopped by the gatekeeper. They were asked whom they wanted to see. Apte replied that they wanted to see the secretary. He wrote something on a piece of paper and gave it to the gatekeeper, who took the note and made his way into the house. Before the gatekeeper returned, Apte decided that he was wasting his time, nothing would be gained by seeing the secretary, and it was more important to see the pavilion at the back of the gardens, where the prayer meetings were held. He therefore drove to the back of the Birla estate, where there was a small gate which led past the servants’ quarters to the prayer ground. There were few people about except the servants and the gardeners, but no one paid any attention to the four men who were carefully examining the pavilion and discussing how to dispose themselves in order to kill Gandhi. From the wide windows of his living room Gandhi could quite easily have seen these men as they stood around the pavilion, and he would have thought nothing of it, for stray visitors entered the gardens all day long.

  The pavilion was built of gray sandstone and was quite small. About twenty people could sit in it comfortably. Just inside was a raised wooden platform, where Gandhi would hold his prayers. At the back of the pavilion was some brick trellis-work designed to bring air to the small apartment of one of the Birla House servants. There were twelve of these apartments arranged in a long line at the foot of the gardens. It occurred to Apte that if they could gain admittance to the servants’ quarters behind the trellis, it would be possible to shoot Gandhi in the back. He measured off the spaces between the convoluted brickwork with a piece of string and came to the conclusion that there was enough space to permit someone to lob a hand grenade through one of the openings. On the way out he paused at the gate and indicated that this would be a good place for exploding the guncotton slabs, thus diverting the attention of the people in the prayer ground. The plan was now clear: Gandhi would be killed from behind by hand grenades and revolver shots, and in the resulting confusion caused by the murder and the nearby explosion of guncotton slabs, the conspirators would have a chance to escape.

  The next step was to make sure that their weapons were in good order. Apte had arranged to meet Gopal Godse at the Hindu Mahasabha building, and there, in a clump of trees some distance behind the house, they tested the two revolvers, the old service revolver belonging to Gopal Godse and the other revolver which Badge had bought back from a friend. Gopal Godse’s revolver was defective; there was something wrong with the chamber. Badge’s revolver was also defective, for when Kistayya fired at a tree, the shot fell far short. Kistayya was then sent back to the Hindu Mahasabha building for a bottle of oil and a penknife, and Gopal Godse then proceeded to repair the revolvers. He was still at work when three forest guards appeared, emerging suddenly among the trees. Gopal Godse hid the revolvers just in time. The guards asked them what they were doing, and one of them, a Sikh called Mehar Singh, was particularly insistent. Speaking in Punjabi, Gopal Godse said they were merely tourists enjoying themselves. Mehar Singh was not entirely satisfied, but there was nothing he could do. The guards continued to patrol the jungle, and no more shots were heard. It was eleven o’clock, and there were still six hours before Gandhi would walk across the garden of Birla House to preside over the prayer meeting.

  The conspirators met for the last time at the Marine Hotel on Connaught Place early in the afternoon. Nathuram Godse and Apte were sharing a single bedroom at the hotel, one of the better Indian hotels in New Delhi. They shared a small room with a private bathroom, and represented themselves to be brothers. They signed the register as S. Deshpande and M. Deshpande.

  In this room the conspirators met to take instructions and to make their last-minute preparations. Because Nathuram Godse was lying in bed, complaining of a severe headache, Apte took charge. Gopal Godse was busy repairing the revolvers. Karkare, Pahwa and Badge were busy in the bathroom, fixing primers to the guncotton slabs and detonators to the hand grenades. Once Nathuram Godse roused himself sufficiently to enter the bathroom. “This is our last chance,” he admonished them. “The work must not fail, and you must see that everything is done properly.”

  Apte decided the time had come for a final disposition of the weapons. Since Gandhi was to be shot to death, and the hand grenades were merely to “finish him off,” while the guncotton slabs were to be used for the sole purpose of creating panic, the most dangerous and most “honorable” place was reserved for the men with revolvers. He therefore suggested that he and Badge should take the revolvers, while Karkare, Nathuram Godse and Gopal Godse should each be armed with a hand grenade. Pahwa and Kistayya should each have a hand grenade and a guncotton slab. Apte still believed it would be possible to shoot Gandhi through the trellis-work, but he had made no effort to get into the apartment behind the pavilion, chiefly because he saw a one-eyed man sitting just outside the apartment. A one-eyed man proverbially brings ill-luck. The final disposition of the conspirators would be worked out quickly once they reached the prayer ground.

  Badge, who had considerably more knowledge about weapons than anyone else, objected strongly. He suggested that the revolvers should be taken by himself and by his servant Kistayya. Pahwa should be given a guncotton slab and a hand grenade, while Gopal Godse and Karkare should be given a hand grenade each. Apte and Nathuram Godse would remain unarmed, and act as signalmen. He suggested, too, that it was quite unnecessary to explode two guncotton slabs, for one was enough. According to the revised plan, Badge and
Kistayya would shoot through the trellis-work the moment Pahwa exploded the guncotton slab, and when they had used up all their ammunition they would throw the hand grenades. Gopal Godse and Karkare would also throw hand grenades. Apte would give the signal to Pahwa, and Nathuram Godse would give the signal to the people behind the trellis-work. In the confusion after the shooting the conspirators would simply mingle with the crowd.

  There is some doubt whether Badge at any time thought seriously of carrying out the plan. He was an impulsive, brutal man with a flair for getting others to do the dangerous work, and his sudden emergence as the triggerman was completely out of character.

  More than Nathuram Godse, Apte had the instincts of a conspirator and it occurred to him that they should all change their clothes and adopt new names. Nathuram Godse put on khaki shorts and a half-sleeved shirt, Apte wore a dark-blue coat and trousers, and Karkare wore a dhoti, a Nehru shirt, and a Gandhi cap. As a former actor, always carrying greasepaints, he disguised himself by thickening his eyebrows and painting a black mustache on his upper lip, finally adding a red caste mark on his forehead to give him the appearance of a devout Brahmin. The red caste mark was the only brilliant improvisation to take place on that luckless day.

  In this disguise, accompanied by Pahwa, he took a taxi to Birla House. His most immediate task was to talk to the servant who occupied the room behind the trellis-work and arrange that a friend who was a photographer should be allowed inside to take photographs of Gandhi during the prayer meeting. The servant was Chota Ram, who washed down the automobiles in the Birla garage. According to Karkare, the servant was agreeable, and as soon as Badge arrived on the scene he was told that everything had been arranged. Badge peered into the small apartment, saw three men sitting inside and a one-eyed man standing outside, and decided that on no account would he enter the room, for if he fired his revolver and threw the hand grenade through the trellis-work, he would be irretrievably trapped. Either he had lost his enthusiasm for the plot or he had never intended to proceed with it to the end.