Glimpses of World History

by Jawaharlal Nehru

  On his death his empire was divided up between his generals. Egypt fell to Ptolemy, who established a strong government there and founded a dynasty. Under this government, with Alexandria as its capital, Egypt was a powerful country, and Alexandria was a great city famous for its science and philosophy and learning.

  Persia and Mesopotamia and part of Asia Minor fell to the lot of another general, Seleucus. To his share fell also the part of north-western India which Alexander had conquered. But he was unable to keep any part of India, and the Greek garrison was driven out from there after Alexander’s death.

  Alexander came to India in 326 BC. His coming was just a raid and it made very little difference to India. Some people think that this raid helped to begin intercourse between the Indians and the Greeks. But, as a matter of fact, even before Alexander’s day there was a highway between the East and the West, and India was in continual touch with Persia, and even Greece. This contact must, of course, have been increased by Alexander’s visit, and the two cultures—the Indian and the Greek— must have mixed to a greater extent.

  Alexander’s raid and his death led, in India, to the founding of a great empire, the Mauryan Empire. This was one of the great periods in Indian history, and we must spend some little time over it.

  18

  Chandragupta Maurya and the Arthashastra

  January 25, 1931

  In one of our letters I mentioned Magadha. This was an old kingdom, situated where the province of Bihar now lies. The capital of this kingdom was Pataliputra, the modern Patna. About the time we are now considering, a line of kings belonging to the Nanda dynasty or family ruled over Magadha. When Alexander came on his raid to the north-west of India, a Nanda king ruled at Pataliputra. Probably related to this king, there was a young man there named Chandragupta. Chandragupta appears to have been a very clever, energetic and ambitious person, and the Nanda king, thinking him too clever, or not liking something that he had done, exiled him from his country. Chandragupta went north to Taxila, attracted perhaps by stories of Alexander and the Greeks. With him was a very able Brahman named Vishnugupta, also called Chanakya. The two of them, Chandragupta and Chanakya, were not meek and mild persons bowing down to fate or whatever might happen to them. They had great and ambitious schemes in their heads and they wanted to go ahead and succeed. Perhaps Chandragupta was dazzled and attracted by the glory of Alexander and wanted to follow his example. In Chanakya he had an ideal friend and counsellor for this purpose. Both kept their eyes open and watched carefully what was happening in Taxila. They bided their time.

  Soon their opportunity came. As soon as news of Alexander’s death reached Taxila, Chandragupta knew that the time had come for action. He roused up the people round about and, with their help, he attacked and drove away the Greek garrison that Alexander had left. Having taken possession of Taxila, Chandragupta and his allies marched south to Pataliputra and defeated the Nanda king. This was in 321 BC, just five years after Alexander’s death; and from this date begins the reign of the Mauryan dynasty. It is not quite clear why Chandragupta was called Maurya. Some people think that this was due to his mother’s name being Mura; others say that his mother’s father was the keeper of the king’s peacocks, and a peacock is called mayura in Sanskrit. Whatever the origin of the word may have been, Chandragupta Maurya is the name he is known by, to distinguish him from another famous Chandragupta, who was a great ruler in India many hundreds of years later.

  The Mahabharata and other old books and old stories tell us of great kings—chakravarti rajas—who ruled over the whole of Bharata. But we have no clear knowledge of those days and cannot even say what was the extent of Bharata or Bharatavarsha then. It may be that the stories coming down to us exaggerate the might of the old rulers. However that may be, the first instance that we find in history of a strong and widespread empire in India is that of Chandragupta Maurya. As we shall see, this was a very advanced and powerful government. It is clear that such a government and State could not have come into existence suddenly. For a long time past there must have been various processes going on— processes of amalgamation of the smaller kingdoms and of advancement in the art of government.

  During Chandragupta’s reign Seleucus, the general of Alexander who had inherited the countries from Asia Minor to India, crossed the Indus with an army and invaded India. He repented very soon of his rashness. Chandragupta defeated him badly and Seleucus went back the way he had come. Instead of gaining anything, he had to give up a good part of Gandhara, or Afghanistan, up to Kabul and Herat, to Chandragupta. Chandragupta also married the daughter of Seleucus. His empire now covered the whole of North India and part of Afghanistan, from Kabul to Bengal, and from the Arabian Sea to the Bay of Bengal. Only South India was not under him. Pataliputra was the capital of this great empire.

  Seleucus sent an ambassador named Megasthenes to represent him at the Court of Chandragupta. Megasthenes has left us an interesting account of those days. But we have another and a more interesting account which gives us full details of the government of Chandragupta. This is Kautilya’s Arthashastra. Kautilya is none other than our old friend Chanakya or Vishnugupta, and Arthashastra means “the science of wealth”.

  This book, the Arthashastra, deals with so many subjects and discusses such a variety of matters that it is not possible for me to tell you much about it. It deals with the duties of the king, of his ministers and counsellors, of council meetings, of departments of government, of trade and commerce, of the government of towns and villages, of law and law courts, of social customs, of the rights of women, of the maintenance of the old and helpless, of marriage and divorce, of taxation, of the army and navy, of war and peace, of diplomacy, of agriculture, of spinning and weaving, of artisans, of passports, and even of gaols! I could go on adding to this list, but I do not want to fill this letter with the chapter-heads of Kautilya.

  The king, on receiving the royal authority from the people’s hands at the time of the coronation, had to take an oath of service of the people. “May I”, he had to affirm, “may I be deprived of heaven, of life, and of offspring if I oppress you.” The king’s daily work and routine are given. He had to be ready always for urgent work, for public work could not suffer or await a king’s pleasure. “If a king is energetic, his subjects will be equally energetic.” “In the happiness of his subjects lies his happiness, in their welfare, whatever pleases himself he shall consider as not good, but whatever pleases his subjects, he shall consider as good.” Kings are disappearing from this world of ours. There are very few left, and they too will go soon enough. It is interesting, however, to see that the idea of kingship in ancient India meant service of the people. There was no divine right of kings, no autocratic power. And if the king misbehaved, his people had the right to remove him and put another in his place. This was the idea and the theory. Of course, there were many kings who fell short of this ideal and who brought misfortune to their country and people by their folly.

  The Arthashastra also lays stress on the old doctrine that “never shall an Arya be subjected to slavery”. Apparently there were some kind of slaves, brought from outside the country or belonging to the country, but so far as the Aryas were concerned, care was taken that they should never become slaves.

  The capital city of the Mauryan Empire was Pataliputra. This was a magnificent city with a nine-mile frontage along the Ganges river. There were sixty-four main gates and hundreds of smaller ones. The houses were chiefly made of wood, and as there was danger of fire, elaborate precautions were taken to prevent it. The principal streets had thousands of vessels always kept filled with water. Each householder was also made to keep vessels of water ready for use in case of fire, as well as ladders, hooks and other articles that might be necessary.

  One rule for the cities, recorded by Kautilya, will interest you. Whoever threw dirt in the street was punished with a fine. If anyone allowed mud or water to collect in the street, he was also fined. If these rules were enforced, P
ataliputra and the other cities must have been fine and clean and sanitary. I wish some such rules could be introduced by our municipalities!

  Pataliputra had a municipal council to manage its affairs. This was elected by the people. It had thirty members, there being six committees of five members each. These committees dealt with the industries and handicrafts of the city, arrangements for travellers and pilgrims, deaths and births for taxation purposes, manufactures and other matters. The whole council looked after sanitation, finance, water-supply, gardens and public buildings.

  There were panchayats for administering justice and courts of appeal. Special measures were taken for famine relief, and half the stores in all the State warehouses were always kept in reserve for times of famine.

  Such was the Mauryan Empire as organized by Chandragupta and Chanakya 2200 years ago. I have just mentioned some of the matters mentioned by Kautilya and Megasthenes. Even these will give you a rough idea of North India in those days. The country must have hummed with life from the capital city of Pataliputra to the many other great cities and the thousands of towns and villages of the Empire. Great roads led from one part of the Empire to the other. The principal Rajapattra, the King’s Way, passed through Pataliputra to the north-west frontier. There were many canals and a special irrigation department to look after them; and a navigation department for the harbours, ferries, bridges, and the numerous boats and ships that plied from one place to another. Ships went across the seas to Burma and China. Over this empire Chandragupta ruled for twenty-four years. He died in 296 BC. We shall carry on the story of the Mauryan Empire in our next letter.

  19

  Three Months!

  S.S “Cracovia,”

  April 21, 1931

  It is long since I wrote to you. Nearly three months have gone by— three months of sorrow and difficulty and strain; three months of change in India, and change above all in our family circle. India has stopped for a while the campaign of Satyagraha, or Civil Disobedience, but the problems that face us are not easier of solution; and our family has lost its dearly loved head, who gave us strength and inspiration, and under whose sheltering care we grew up and learnt to do our bit for India, our common mother.

  How well I remember that day in Naini Prison! It was the 26th of January, and I sat down, as was my usual practice, to write to you about the days that have gone by. Only the day before I had written about Chandragupta and of the Mauryan Empire which he founded. And I had promised to carry on the story and to tell you of those who followed Chandragupta Maurya, of Ashoka the Great, beloved of the gods, who shone like a bright star in the Indian sky and passed away, leaving a deathless memory. As I thought of Ashoka, my mind wandered and came back to the present, to the 26th of January, the day I sat with pen and paper to write to you. That day was a great day for us, for a year ago we had celebrated that very day all over India, in city and in village, as Independence Day, Purna Swaraj day, and all of us in our millions had taken the pledge of Independence. Since then a year had passed by, a year of struggle and suffering and triumph, and again India was going to celebrate that great day. And as I sat in barrack No. 6 of Naini Prison, I thought of the meetings and processions and the lathi charges and arrests that would take place that day all over the country. I thought of this with pride and joy and anguish, when suddenly my musing was cut short. A message was brought to me from the outside world that Dadu was very ill and I was to be released immediately to go to him. Full of anxiety, I forgot my musings, and put away the letter to you I had just begun, and left Naini Prison for Anand Bhawan.

  Ten days I was with Dadu before he left us. Ten days and nights we watched his suffering and agony and his brave fight with the Angel of Death. Many a fight had he fought during his life, and many a victory won. He did not know how to surrender, and even face to face with Death, he would not give in. As I watched this last struggle of his, full of anguish at my inability to help him whom I loved so much, I thought of some lines which I had read long ago in a tale of Edgar Allan Poe: “Man doth not yield himself to the angels, nor even unto death utterly, save by the weakness of his feeble will.”

  It was on the 6th of February, in the early morning, that he left us. We brought his body, wrapped in the Flag he loved so well, from Lucknow to Anand Bhawan. Within a few hours it was reduced to a handful of ashes and the Ganga carried away this precious burden to the sea.

  Millions have sorrowed for him; but what of us, children of his, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone! And what of the new Anand Bhawan, child of his also, even as we are, fashioned by him so lovingly and carefully. It is lonely and deserted and its spirit seems to have gone; and we walk along its verandahs with light steps, lest we disturb, thinking ever of him who made it.

  We sorrow for him and miss him at every step. And as the days go by the sorrow does not seem to grow less or his absence more tolerable. But, then, I think that he would not have us so. He would not like us to give in to grief, but to face it, as he faced his troubles, and conquer it. He would like us to go on with the work he left unfinished. How can we rest or give in to futile grief when work beckons and the cause of India’s freedom demands our service? For that cause he died. For that cause we will live and strive and, if necessary, die. After all, we are his children and have something of his fire and strength and determination in us.

  The deep blue Arabian Sea stretches out before me as I write; and on the other side, in the far distance, is the coast of India, passing by. I think of this vast and almost immeasurable expanse and compare it to the little barrack, with its high walls, in Naini Prison, from where I wrote my previous letters to you. The sharp outline of the horizon stands out before me, where the sea seems to meet the sky; but in gaol, a prisoner’s horizon is the top of the wall surrounding him. Many of us who were in prison are out of it today and can breathe the freer air outside. But many of our colleagues remain still in their narrow cells deprived of the sight of the sea and the land and the horizon. And India herself is still in prison and her freedom is yet to come. What is our freedom worth if India is not free?

  20

  The Arabian Sea

  S.S “Cracovia,”

  April 22, 1931

  Strange that we should be travelling by this boat—the Cracovia— from Bombay to Colombo! I remember well waiting for the Cracovia to arrive in Venice nearly four years ago. Dadu was on board, and I had gone to Venice to meet him, leaving you at your school at Bex in Switzerland. Again, some months later, it was by the Cracovia that Dadu returned home from Europe and I met him in Bombay. Some of his fellow-passengers of that voyage are with us now, and they are full of stories of him.

  I wrote to you yesterday of the past three months of change. One thing that took place during these last few weeks I would have you remember, as India will remember it for long years to come. Less than a month ago in Cawnpore city died a gallant soldier of India, Ganesh Shankar Vidyarthi, done to death even as he sought to save others. Ganeshji was a dear friend of mine, a noble and selfless comrade with whom it was a privilege to work. When madness broke out in Cawnpore last month and Indian killed Indian, Ganeshji rushed out into the fray, not to fight any one of his countrymen, but to save them. He saved hundreds, himself he could not save, and did not care to save, and by the hands of the very people he sought to save, he met his death. Cawnpore and our province have lost a bright star and many of us a dear and wise friend. But what a glorious death was his, as he faced calm-eyed and without flinching the madness of the mob, and even in the midst of danger and death thought only of others and how to save them!

  Three months of change! A drop in the ocean of time, a bare second in the life of a nation! Only three weeks ago I went to see the ruins of Mohenjo Daro in the Indus valley in Sind. You were not with me there. I saw a great city coming out of the earth, a city of solid brick houses and wide thoroughfares, built, they say, 5000 years ago. And I saw beautiful jewellery and jars found in this ancient city. I could almost imagine men and women
, decked out in gay attire, walking up and down its streets and lanes, and children playing, as children will, and the bazaars, bright with merchandise, and people buying and selling, and the temple bells ringing.

  For these 5000 years India has lived her life and seen many a change. And I sometimes wonder if this old mother of ours, so ancient and yet so young and beautiful, does not smile at the impatience of her children and their petty worries and their joys and sorrows, which last for a day and then are no more!

  21

  A Holiday and a Dream Journey

  March 26, 1932

  Fourteen months have passed by since I wrote to you from Naini Prison about past history. Three months later I added two short letters to that series from the Arabian Sea. We were on board the Cracovia then, hurrying to Lanka.1 As I wrote, the great big sea stretched out before me and my hungry eyes gazed at it and could not take their fill. Then came Lanka, and for a month we made glorious holiday and tried to forget our troubles and worries. Up and down that most beautiful of islands we went, wondering at its exceeding loveliness and at the abundance of Nature. Kandy and Nuwara Eliya and Anuradhapura, with its ruins and relics of old greatness; how pleasant it is to think of the many places we visited! But, above all, I love to think of the cool tropical jungle with its abundant life, looking at you with a thousand eyes; and of the graceful areca tree, slender and straight and true; and the innumerable coconuts; and the palm-fringed sea-shore where the emerald green of the island meets the blue of the sea and the sky; and the sea-water glistens and plays on the surf, and the wind rustles through the palm leaves.