A Division of the Spoils

by Paul Scott

  ‘This is a farce in which Muslim rulers of predominantly Hindu states which are hedged about on all sides by territory which from August 15 will be ruled by the Congress from Delhi, elect to join one of the two distant arms of Pakistan; or in which Hindu rulers of predominantly Muslim states in or contiguous to Pakistan declare allegiance to Congress India, or in which rulers of immense landlocked states declare their independence of everything and everybody. You cannot blame them because not only is the farce implicit in the treaties and the doctrines but these declarations and intentions do not in any single case contravene either the spirit or the letter of the law. They are simply devoid of any means of reasonable implementation. From the princes’ point of view, the long years of British power and influence have left them in possession of preserved but unpossessable goods. Geographically and politically they cannot survive individually once the Crown abdicates and twentieth-century India (or Pakistan) takes over.

  ‘All this, and the terrible reports of the breakdown of civil authority in many areas of the Punjab, must make it seem that to achieve the objective of a political transformation scene in the long pantomime of the British-Indian Empire, the Viceroy, obeying the wishes of a well-meaning but ignorant British electorate, has found himself in the unenviable position of opening Pandora’s Box and letting out all the evils that have afflicted this country probably since time began but which have been imprisoned, under a lid shut and locked by the single rule of British Power and British Law; evils which have not died of asphyxiation, but multiplied.

  ‘Which brings us back to the small but not unimportant state of Mirat, which is not only geographically part of this province but traditionally and politically part of it.

  ‘Under the present ruler, His Highness Sir Ahmed Ali Guffur Kasim Bahadur, and his Chief Minister, Count Dmitri Bronowsky, Mirat has made notable strides forward. A predominantly Hindu state, the administration used to be the almost exclusive preserve of Muslims, a situation common enough where the ruling family is Muslim, but one that always causes dissatisfaction and unrest. For the past two or three decades, official posts, including senior official posts have been open to Hindus. There are Hindus on the Council of State and for many years now there has been a Hindu College of Higher Education.

  ‘The existence in the state capital of a large military cantonment and training area for troops of the British and the Indian armies has contributed (for nearly a hundred years) to Mirat’s prosperity and no doubt to its peace and security. For the past year or two, however, there has been a great deal of unrest. Both the main Indian political parties must be held partly responsible for this because neither has been slow to take political advantage of the problems posed for India as a whole by the continuing existence of states whose rule, however benevolent, can hardly be called truly democratic.

  ‘The Nawab is now faced with the problem of what action to take now that his treaty with the Crown and the doctrine of the Crown’s paramountcy are lapsing. One may think it a pity that since 1937 his relationship with the Crown has been conducted through the Resident at the distant court of a much larger state, Gopalakand. Whatever advice Sir Robert Conway is giving the Maharajah of Gopalakand ought not, one may suggest, to be the same advice he should give to the Nawab of Mirat. But that is by the way. At this juncture, advice from the Political Department is largely irrelevant. The consideration that should be uppermost in the Nawab’s mind is the well-being of his subjects.

  ‘It is important to remember the tradition of intense loyalty and reverence felt by the subjects of a princely state for their ruler, the tradition of dependence on him to make wise decisions. The main Indian political parties may scoff at these traditions as outmoded and feudal, but they exist. And already we have reports of the first effects on the people of Mirat of rumours of indecision at the palace.

  ‘For instance, the rumour that the Nawab has not been co-operative with representatives of the States Department of the government of the new Indian dominion and may declare himself an independent Islamic state, affiliated to Pakistan, has led to the murder of Muslims in the city of Mirat and in the villages by extremist Hindus, and to burning and looting of Muslim shops. Retaliation, by Muslim extremists, has led to the murder of Hindus and the burning and looting of Hindu houses and shops. In all this, the position of such British troops as remain in the cantonment is, to say the least, delicate, and that of Indian troops equally delicate since they are in the main troops allocated to the new dominion of India and most of the Muslim elements of regiments that are to be divided have already left the area.

  ‘Nevertheless it is to the cantonment, which might itself turn out to be the scene of awkward confrontations, that Muslim refugees from the villages and from the city have gone, seeking temporary refuge. Some of these refugees are no doubt bona fide travellers en route to Pakistan. Most, one suspects, are there temporarily, simply to protect their lives, having lost their property.

  ‘We cannot afford to have in this province of British India which in ten days time will become a province of the new Indian dominion, a pocket of such potential communal and political danger.

  ‘The Nawab could defuse the bomb in an instant, by taking the logical, the only practical step, which is to sign the instrument of accession to the new Dominion of India on the three subjects of external affairs, defence and communications and the standstill agreement which will allow him time to negotiate a settlement with India on all the complex and vitally important points arising from the lapse of paramountcy and the end of his treaty with the Crown.

  ‘If he signs, his subjects will then know where they stand. Since the majority is Hindu, one might say that the majority would approve such a step. The Muslim minority who until recently have lived in comparative harmony with the Hindus of Mirat would also accept his decision, as that of their ruler and co-religionist, but those of them who see a better future for themselves in Jinnah’s new Islamic state could then peacefully wind up their businesses and affairs and leave – just as peacefully.

  ‘One can sympathize with the Nawab. One should sympathize with any man whose traditional assurances and traditional courses of action are suddenly removed or closed to him. But it is his sympathies, not our own, which are under test and examination. One is fairly confident that the outcome will show them firmly placed with the present and future welfare of all his people.

  ‘So at least one must hope. Classical scholars will recall that Hope was the only thing that didn’t fly out of Pandora’s Box but remained obstinately at the bottom.’

  *

  ‘Guy?’

  It was Sarah. She had changed into a cotton frock.

  ‘Ahmed asks me to apologize. He’s got something urgent to attend to. But Dmitri would like to have a few words and present you to HH, if you’re agreeable.’

  ‘Of course. Have you had your swim yet?’

  ‘I can’t this morning. I’ve got to go back to the guest house soon. But I can take you back to Nigel’s bungalow after you’ve met HH. I’m sorry if we seem to be messing you about again.’

  ‘Hardly that.’

  She led him by a new way into the inner courtyard and then along one of the paths between the lawns and fountains.

  Strolling up and down the colonnaded terrace on their left were four men; one of them in full Congress garb, another in a lounge suit, the other two in long-skirted high-necked coats.

  ‘States Department?’ Perron murmured.

  ‘The two on this side are. The others are members of the Nawab’s council. Finance member and food member.’

  One of them called out, ‘Good-morning, Miss Layton.’

  She called good-morning back.

  ‘That’s the food member. He’s an expert on agrarian economy. Dmitri pinched him from Calcutta before the war. I wish you could have gone to Biranpur and seen the model farm and village he set up. Perhaps you’ll be able to, if you’re staying for a while and things settle down.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll go
with me?’

  ‘I wish I could. I’d like to see it again. But I can’t think when that’ll be. Susan’s decided to go back to Pankot right away and I’ll have to go with her. I don’t know what will happen after that.’

  ‘What does right away mean?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow, I think. Ahmed’s looking into the arrangements now.’

  She moved ahead of him, through the Hall of Public Audience, to a narrow archway that gave on to the courtyard Ahmed hadn’t shown him, the one overlooked by the private apartments. Going through the archway she suddenly stopped and said, ‘Oh. Wait. Do you mind?’ She went down into the courtyard leaving him alone, in the shadow of the archway.

  Seated on the rim of a fountain at the centre of the courtyard was a young Indian girl dressed – how odd – in slacks and blouse. As Sarah approached her Perron saw two older women, in sarees, getting up from squatting positions on the terrace and making namaste. The Indian girl’s back was towards Sarah but the movements of the women alerted her and she looked round, then down again, head bowed. Sarah sat beside her and after a moment put her arm round her.

  Perron turned away and considered the Nawab’s eye-view of the main courtyard. From here there was nothing that oppressed him. The courtyard was brilliant with sunshine and colour and splashing water. Then he saw the white peacock – at least, a white peacock – strutting across one of the lawns, its breast carved like the prow of a Viking ship, its long trailing tail quills making stern and wake. The quills were in moult. Should it erect them now they would look like the spokes of a moth-eaten fan. But the proud statement of the bird’s slow stalking was only marginally impaired.

  He went back to the archway in time to see Sarah and the girl walking slowly arm in arm, climbing up to the terrace. The women followed some distance behind. Then the girl broke away and ran in through a doorway. Sarah returned to the courtyard. The two women hastened after their charge.

  He went down and waited.

  ‘Shiraz?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. Shiraz.’ Then she took him up to the private apartments.

  *

  ‘My dear Mr Perron,’ Count Bronowsky said, limping across the darkened, almost completely shuttered, room. ‘How can I sufficiently apologize for not having greeted you before? I don’t mean that Sarah and Nigel haven’t tried their best to cover up for me, but I’m very conscious of my personal failure in the matter of hospitality. Please forgive me.’

  A single shaft of light from the louvres of a shutter exposed the half-blind face and the parchment texture of the skin. The offered hand seemed made of nothing but frail bone. There was a faint smell of eau-de-cologne. A stronger shaft of light fell on to a couch near a window. It was to this that Dmitri led him, skeletal hand lightly resting on his shoulder. ‘When I had your letter from England, I thought – Ah! Mr Perron may be persuaded to lecture at our college on the subject of the European mercenaries and the history of the Mahrattas. But in the event the college is temporarily closed owing to what one calls circumstances beyond one’s control. The students are on strike.’ They sat on the couch. ‘In any case this was just a thing I selfishly thought you might agree to do for us. The important question is what we can do for you. You mentioned the possibility of writing and publishing something on the subject of the transfer of power as it affects states like this. I’ve forgotten the name of the paper.’

  ‘It’s a new quarterly review called The New English Forum. It probably won’t survive more than a few issues. I’m afraid my journalistic credentials are entirely spurious.’

  ‘I see you have this morning’s Ranpur Gazette.’

  Perron realized he still carried the folded newspaper.

  ‘I hope you won’t think it very discourteous of me, Mr Perron, if I ask you to hide it away. His Highness hasn’t read this morning’s issue and there’s a long editorial in it which from my point of view has come out a shade prematurely. You’ve read it? What did you think of it?’

  ‘I thought it quite well-argued.’

  ‘The editor of the Ranpur Gazette, an elderly Englishman incidentally, does have quite an effective style. I suppose Nigel told you what he was hoping to achieve in Gopalakand?’

  ‘Yes, he gave me a rough outline.’

  ‘He’s been on the telephone this morning and will be back some time later today with the necessary letter from the Resident. In other words his mission was a success. But I haven’t told Nawab Sahib yet. I don’t intend to do so until after the morning audiences and petitions. He was hoping Conway would encourage him to stand firm on independence, but Nigel has persuaded him not to encourage him. If Nawab Sahib reads that article now it will put his back up. I don’t want him with his back up when I tell him that Conway is washing his hands of Mirat and that he should sign the instrument of accession if he so wishes.’

  Perron handed Bronowsky the newspaper and said, ‘Perhaps you’d better dispose of it. Thank you for warning me. I might have referred to it.’

  ‘It was Miss Layton who warned me you might have been reading it. That is why I came out for a private word. She is a remarkably shrewd and thoughtful young woman. We shall miss her at the palace. Nawab Sahib’s daughter is heartbroken and begs her to come back soon. Miss Layton is the only person who has ever succeeded in bringing poor little Shiraz out of her shell. For years I tried. Nawab Sahib tried. I tried to get Ahmed to try. But the influence of the late Begum, her mother, seemed indestructible. Shiraz threatened to go into full purdah, can you believe it? Now she is riding and swimming and wearing modern clothes and even sometimes talking to men. Even Ahmed is showing an interest in her at last. And it is all Sarah’s doing. She is with Nawab Sahib now, saying goodbye. He too has become very fond of her. It is a piquant situation. She treats him like a father, but I sometimes think he looks at her and vaguely resents that for the past twenty years I have kept him on such a strait and narrow path. As a young prince, you know, when his father ruled, the Political Department was in two minds about recognizing him as the heir. Their files would reveal some scandalous things about him in his wild youth. Perhaps about me too. Thank God these files are all being destroyed before Patel can get his hands on them.’

  ‘Is Shiraz the Nawab’s heir?’

  ‘Oh, no. He has two sons, both older. The younger is in the Indian Air Force, not a pilot, they never succeeded in teaching him to fly, poor boy. The elder is Mohsin, but Mohsin and his wife live mostly in Delhi. He is much involved with business affairs and his wife does not like Mirat at all. She hates coming here. But finally this has had one advantage. She insisted on a swimming-pool being built in the grounds for her to bathe in. It has been very useful to Sarah, in educating Shiraz.’

  ‘The succession is secure, then.’

  Bronowsky nodded, but did not otherwise reply. Instead he said, ‘Tomorrow I hope that these States Department people will be on their way back to Delhi with their signed bits of paper and that I shall be able to leave the palace and go back across the road to my own home. Then perhaps you will be my guest and in any case come to dinner tomorrow evening, if all goes well. I don’t know whether Sarah will be able to come if they are to travel the next day. But I hope Nigel can be there. And Ahmed. Ahmed has promised his father to be in Ranpur for the August fifteen celebrations and I cannot deny him that. Since the Laytons have decided to go back to Pankot he may as well accompany them as far as Ranpur. It is a good opportunity.’

  He stood and placed a hand on Perron’s shoulder and indicated a double set of doors.

  ‘Nawab Sahib is in there with Sarah. I’m afraid you will not find him very communicative. He is shy with strangers. So do not be offended if I intervene quite quickly and take him through to see his petitioners. The morning audiences are a relic of the past. All the real business is done by members of council and their staffs, but the tradition is important. I shall have to go in with him but Sarah will then look after you and take you back to Nigel’s.’

  Bronowsky went to an ornate des
k, opened a drawer and pushed the Ranpur Gazette into it. As he rejoined Perron he said, ‘Did you by any chance call on our old friend Aimee when you were in Bombay?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I called on Mr Hapgood though. He sent his regards.’

  ‘Hapgood? Oh, the bank official. But how well I remember that evening at Aimee’s. What a terrible disaster you averted – what a terrible mistake I made, taking Miss Layton and poor Ronald there! The previous time I visited her everything was beyond criticism. You made an impression on her, did you know? The next time I saw her, I think in Delhi, she was a bit confused about the precise circumstances but she said, “Where is that British sergeant you brought to one of my parties, who gave me a lovely bottle of whisky, and then took it away with him, the crook?” So, you see? Come. Let us go in.’

  *

  Extract from Perron’s diary, Tuesday August 5.

  – to a smaller room, a salon, decorated and furnished in the Empire style. The Nawab stood at the window indicating something to Sarah (it turned out to be the view of the fishermen on the Izzat Bagh Lake – so-called because an earlier Nawab had declared that the izzat, the honour of the ruling house, would be maintained for as long as the lake didn’t dry up). Dmitri left me near the door, said something to the Nawab, a small man in comparison with Dmitri. The Nawab came across. I advanced a step or two and bowed. The offer to shake hands was slightly delayed. One sensed that today he distrusted all Englishmen. His long-skirted coat was amazingly shabby. The cuffs were frayed and the material was very thin around the button-holes. (He is a rich man, generous and not mean. His austerities are wholly personal, Sarah tells me.) The face is narrow, lined, quite a deep brown, curiously anonymous. The kind of face you easily forget. But he has the sort of presence you remember, self-containment, suggesting restraint of packed nervous energy and intensity of feeling – suitable in the descendant of men who were feared, before whom Mirat trembled, years ago.