The Begum

by Deepa Agarwal

  Even though Liaquat could not spend much time with the baby, his birth brought great joy to the couple. It is significant that Jinnah himself chose the name Ashraf, though the parents had been considering Akber. This name was given to their younger son who arrived four years later on 10 April 1941.

  Ra’ana had been an affectionate older sister to her siblings, even described as their little mother. It was but natural that she would take on the task of bringing up her children with the dedication that marked whatever she did. Her friend Kay Miles noted: ‘ . . . in spite of her multifarious duties and responsibilities, she devoted as much time as she could, taking a personal interest in their education and daily life and activities. With her husband so completely immersed in his work as he was compelled to be, she was, in effect, both mother and father to them.’5

  We must remember that at that time, mothers from well-to-do families usually relegated childcare to their domestic help. Ra’ana did not belong to this category. Having been brought up with a well-structured daily routine, attention to courtesy and consideration for others, she inculcated the same values in her children.

  Sharing some of his childhood memories over email, her younger son Akber Liaquat Ali Khan says: ‘I remember well my brother Ashraf’s and my birthday parties which were organized personally by my mother in our house 8-B, Harding Avenue, New Delhi, now Tilak Marg.

  ‘I also remember Mr Jinnah and Ms Jinnah coming over to the house and my mother would take us every time to say ‘Hello’ to Uncle and Aunty Jinnah. When they sat down at the table to play bridge (I later realized that they were playing a game called bridge), we were ushered out of the room so that they could begin.

  ‘My mother always supervised our homework and questioned us as to what we did in school that day and who was naughty in the class.

  ‘I also remember vividly our trips by car to Srinagar to join Mr Jinnah on his houseboat every summer. We enjoyed driving to Srinagar as invariably we would have at least two punctures and would enjoy watching tyres being changed, shouting with glee, and mother asking us to quieten down and saying, “Don’t make such a racket.” On the houseboat, my mother would supervise our dress and what we could and could not do while being guests of Mr Jinnah.’6

  This gives us a warm and intimate glimpse of the happy family life of the Khans. Ra’ana spoke about the punctures in one of her interviews and that her husband had a flair for mechanics and enjoyed tinkering with the car. He also liked to collect cigarette lighters, and a suitcase full of them formed part of their baggage when they left for Pakistan. He was also into photography and owned several cameras. Historian Roger Long has mentioned that it was Liaquat Ali’s passion for photography that ensured that each session of the Muslim League received adequate photographic coverage.

  Though they enjoyed an affluent lifestyle, Ra’ana was hardly a socialite. While she was always admired for her charm and the elegance of her attire, superficial matters like clothes and jewellery occupied a low place in her scale of priorities, as she has stated in an interview. An old friend corroborated this quality. ‘She was never interested in creature comforts,’ Ambassador Jamsheed Marker said, ‘or in jewellery and clothes. She had a certain style and kept to it. She used only one perfume “Joy” . . . there was nothing acquisitive about her.’7

  Interestingly, her nephew Jitendra Pant mentions her fondness for this perfume too and that her favourite colour was pastel green. Elsewhere, it has been noted that green was Liaquat Ali Khan’s favourite colour, which seems like a happy coincidence. But like other married couples, there were differences in temperament, which she has shared frankly in an interview, stating that she ‘was very hasty and short-tempered, while he remained calm and sedate, which made me even more angry’.

  Both Jinnah and Liaquat Ali Khan were secular liberals, who had believed in Hindu–Muslim unity against the British. As the legendary civil servant Dharam Vira, who was close to Liaquat Ali and Ra’ana, has mentioned in his memoirs: ‘Like Jinnah he [Liaquat Ali Khan] also started as a staunch nationalist and I have no doubt [that] if the Congress had played fair with him, the political and communal trends would not inevitably have moved in the direction of partition.’8

  It is stated that Pandit Govind Ballabh Pant, who was incidentally closely related to Ra’ana, had once requested Liaquat Ali to join the Congress but he had refused.

  By the end of the third decade, the communal situation had deteriorated considerably in the United Provinces. The chasm was widening between the Congress and the Muslim League. Liaquat Ali vented the grievances of the Muslims in a hard-hitting speech on 24 February 1939 on the first day of the budget session of the UP Legislative Assembly, targeting Govind Ballabh Pant who was the premier of the assembly, on the issue of communal harmony:

  ‘Sir, the speech of the Hon’ble Premier is a cry of helplessness and despair. May I suggest to the Hon’ble Premier to look nearer home for the causes of communal bitterness which exists in the Province today. The speech that was made by Mr Vijaypal Singh was what the minority community thinks to be the mentality of the Congress. Why do you not realise that every one of you is not like the Hon’ble Premier or like Jawaharlal Nehru? Why don’t you realise that there are amongst you people who pose as nationalists but they are the worst type of communalists? My honourable friend, Mr Vijaypal Singh, said that he had got the solution for the settlement of this problem. He said that if the two communities wanted to fight, he would leave them to settle their account among themselves. Would he say the same thing about the people in the North-West Frontier Province? Would he say the same about the people in the Sind Province? He suggests that solution for the province where he knows his community is 86 per cent of the population. Is that the solution? I say, and I say this with a full sense of responsibility, that it is this mentality among Congressmen that is responsible for the present bitterness between the two communities . . . Sir, the point is this. Does not the Government realize that since they have come into power every Congressman in the village, or in the districts, irrespective of his past record, has begun to think of himself as the greatest nationalist and has begun to think that the Government of the Province is his own. That is really the reason why people have lost confidence in the party as such. [Cries of question] My friend questions. He may go on questioning, but there is not much difference between the mentality of a large number of Congressmen and the mentality of the Mahasabhites. Sir, is it not the duty of the majority community to create confidence in the mind of the minority? After all the minority, the Muslim minority, which is only 14 per cent in this Province desires to live in peace. It knows that by fighting it is suffering and it will rather perish altogether than live a dishonourable life in this country . . . If a few Congressmen, who are only one per cent of the population, think themselves strong enough to turn out the mighty British from the country then surely the ninety million Mussalmans cannot easily be suppressed. They are determined to lead an honourable life in the country irrespective of what you might say or what you might do . . . My proposal is: change your mentality and live up to your professions. Sir, honourable members may go on interrupting me. The more they interrupt me, the happier I feel, because I feel that my thrusts are going home and in their hearts they know that there is a lot of truth in what I am saying. How is it that in other provinces the communal feeling is not so acute as it is in this province? Can it be said that in the Punjab or in Sindh or in Bengal or in North-West Frontier Province the communal feeling is not so strong? [A voice: Because the Muslim League has failed them there.] No it is not that; it is because the Government in those provinces has not shown any special favour to any one political party. That is the reason. If the Government really means that the people should have confidence in the Government, they should create a sense of security in their minds, irrespective of their party label, and impress them that everyone is to receive the same treatment and the same justice as members of the Congress Party.’9

  Later, on 25 March the sa
me year, when Liaquat Ali gave the presidential speech at the United Provinces Divisional Muslim League Conference at Meerut, he again voiced his misgivings saying, ‘ . . . The future of Musulmans cannot hope for betterment in this state of affairs . . . ’10 and, ‘I want an independent India where Muslims have power and freedom, for the Muslims are a nation and not a community.’11

  The last words clearly indicate that Muslim leaders were beginning to lean heavily towards the Two-Nation theory of separate homelands for Hindus and Muslims.

  That summer Liaquat Ali’s family shifted to Mussoorie and stayed at the Charleville Hotel, said to be built in 1861, which now houses the Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration.

  It was not only an escape from the searing heat of the northern plains, but a change from the Delhi routine. As they enjoyed the refreshing mountain breezes, laden with the sweetness of wildflowers and the resinous tang of the deodar trees, this daughter of the mountains felt like she was back in her natural element. There was less political activity here. She and Kay Miles would stroll on the hillsides along with little Ashraf, and one can picture her picking a wildflower and sharing its local name with her son. Her husband was often away on work, and she missed him sorely but they wrote to each other frequently or sent telegrams.

  Political events were, in the meantime, developing in a manner that would have an enormous impact on not only this particular family but millions of others in the country.

  In September 1939, Britain declared war against Germany. Without a word of discussion with the Indian leaders or the elected provincial representatives, the then viceroy, Lord Linlithgow, proclaimed Indian support for Britain in this European conflict. This caused so much outrage in the country that the elected Congress party provincial governments resigned en masse, which meant that there was no effective administration left. The Muslims, however, as well as some other minorities, decided to support the British. Jinnah announced that 22 December 1939 would be marked as a ‘Day of Deliverance’ from Congress rule.

  Liaquat Ali gave his complete support to the decision though he did state that the ‘Day of Deliverance’ was not being observed to gloat over the exit of the Congress. All the same, he and Jinnah, conscious of the welfare of the common people, did not go all out to cooperate with the British. It is worth noting that, ironically, Jinnah had opposed India’s contribution towards World War I, while Gandhi had been all for it. Now their positions were reversed.

  By October, the family was back in Delhi, and a letter written by Liaquat Ali to Jinnah, dated 16 November 1939, carries the Gul-i-Ra’ana address.12 In this letter, along with his wife, he congratulates his mentor on the speech he delivered on the occasion of Eid. They had heard it on the radio, and Liaquat Ali mentioned that it was highly appreciated by both Muslims and Hindus and published on the front page of the Hindustan Times. The paper also wrote a leading article on it, he said.

  Another letter mentions a visit by Sir Stafford Cripps on the morning of 1 December 1939, and Liaquat Ali shared his opinions and a copy of their constitution.13 This was before the time of the Cripps Mission.

  After the Nehru Report, their conviction that the two communities could share a common cause for freedom from the colonial rule was completely destroyed. Now the assertion for a separate Muslim nation became the primary point in their agenda. The Two Nation Theory was fast gaining impetus and would ultimately prevail to divide the subcontinent with tragic consequences for both the communities.

  The die was cast at the annual session of the All India Muslim League held in Lahore on 22–24 March 1940. After Liaquat Ali presented the annual report in his capacity as the honorary secretary, the resolution for the establishment of a separate homeland for the Muslims of British India was moved in the general session by A.K. Fazlul Huq, the chief minister of undivided Bengal. Chaudhury Khaliquzzaman seconded it and also explicated his views on the causes that had led to this demand. Subsequently, Maulana Zafar Ali Khan from Punjab, Mohammad Abdul Ghafoor Hazarvi from the North-West Frontier Province, Sir Abdullah Haroon from Sindh, Qazi Esa from Baluchistan, and other leaders supported the resolution.

  While the Congress leaders were critical, a leading national figure like B.R. Ambedkar expressed the view in his book, Thoughts on Pakistan, that while it would be an unfortunate thing, the Muslims had a right to claim it.

  Following the passage of the Pakistan Resolution, Liaquat accompanied Jinnah in campaigning for the creation of a separate state for Indian Muslims. He had been a member of the UP Legislative Assembly till now. When he won a seat in the Central Legislative Assembly the same year, he was made the deputy leader of the Muslim League parliamentary party.

  His residence, Gul-i-Ra’ana, now became the scene of even more hectic activity. A meeting of the All-India Muslim League Working Committee was held there on 22 February 1941. Five important resolutions were passed to provide impetus to the League and the demand for Pakistan.

  Ra’ana was expecting her second child and was late into the pregnancy. But the heady sense of history being made right in her drawing room must have been very strong.

  A few days before Ra’ana went into labour, on 6 April, Liaquat was in Madras, delivering the presidential speech at the Bombay Provincial League Conference. Soon after, he left for another session which also took place in Madras, 12 April onwards. In fact, he was on his way to Madras, when his second son Akber was born on 10 April. Mother and son were back home from the hospital on the 24. In a letter to Jinnah dated 10 May, the delighted father mentioned, ‘My wife & Akber are doing very well.’14

  The family left for Mussoorie on 15 May, as Delhi had become unbearably hot. Once again, they stayed at the Charleville Hotel. Baby Akber thrived in the cool, fresh mountain air. But they were back in Delhi by mid-September.

  It was a year of frenetic campaigning for the cause. Jinnah and Liaquat had long discussed the need for a publication which would voice the opinion of the League and other Muslims. On Sunday, 26 October 1941, Dawn was launched as a weekly newspaper. Jinnah was the proprietor, Liaquat Ali the unpaid managing director and Hasan Ahmad the first editor. It was priced at two annas, and soon it became so popular that Hasan Ahmad began to demand a substantial raise. The paper played an important role in garnering support for the birth of Pakistan, and by the following year, plans to convert it into a daily were in full swing.

  In the meantime, events in Europe continued to cast a long shadow over the nationalist struggle. Winston Churchill had succeeded Arthur Neville Chamberlain as the prime minister, and he was far less sympathetic to the cause of Indian independence. In fact, he was openly contemptuous of Indians, and savagely critical of Mahatma Gandhi. In 1930 he said, ‘That Gandhi-ism and everything it stands for will have to be grappled with and crushed.’15

  However, as the war situation worsened, the British desperately needed to ensure cooperation from the Indians. This vast country was in a position to contribute immensely—resources ranging from manpower and food supplies to manufactured goods and various others. After the fall of France, the Nazi threat to Britain became even more menacing. Hence, as a palliative measure, on 8 August 1940, the viceroy issued a statement titled the ‘August Offer’. Both the Congress and the Muslim League rejected it.

  This was the time when Indian leaders could wrest the maximum advantage from the British by scaling up the movement. There was, however, some dissension within the Congress regarding the form it would take. Gandhi sent out a call to launch a civil disobedience movement, but later softened his stand considering the precarious condition Britain was in. He decided it would be an individual satyagraha by selected members. All the same, fiery anti-war speeches and demonstrations multiplied all over the country. Fourteen thousand satyagrahis were arrested but later released in December 1941. The same month, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour, drawing the US into the war. Britain now had a powerful ally, but the threat from the east had assumed alarming proportions.

  The Japanese were adva
ncing rapidly and had overrun the Dutch East Indies (present day Indonesia), Singapore, Malaya and Burma by the end of April 1942. By now Gandhi had withdrawn the satyagraha. But the British need for Indian support was becoming more urgent—even desperate. To secure it by offering some sops, in late March 1942, the British government despatched the Cripps Mission to India. It was headed by Sir Stafford Cripps, a senior left-wing politician and government minister. Stafford was sent to negotiate an agreement with the nationalist leaders, who represented different communities and sections of the population. He offered terms as attractive as dominion status, the establishment of a constituent assembly and the right to make separate constitutions to the provinces. These concessions would, however, come into effect only after World War II had ended. As it was, Mahatma Gandhi was completely opposed to Indian involvement in the war as it went against his principles. He had no faith in the British and believed this was a ploy to buy time. He described the Cripps Mission as ‘a post-dated cheque on a crashing bank.’

  At the Congress Working Committee meeting held at Wardha on 14 July 1942, a resolution was passed demanding complete independence from British rule or else a massive civil disobedience campaign would result. And on 8 August, Gandhi launched the Quit India Movement. There was some disagreement on this decision within the Congress itself, but there was much enthusiasm among the public.

  The Muslim League did not support this call. Jinnah felt that if the British left India at this juncture, the Muslims would be suppressed by the Hindu majority. He called for a boycott of the Quit India Movement. This appealed to many Muslims, and the membership of the League rose considerably after this.

  While the Congress stepped up its anti-war efforts, a large number of Indian men volunteered to join the army, lured by the prospect of employment and a good salary. There was indeed, an acute shortage of jobs, not only for young men who hailed from rural areas, but also among the educated middle class. There were very few industries—farm labourers lived on the brink of starvation and even fresh matriculates had limited prospects. In 1939, the British Indian Army had a head count of 2,05,000 men. When it started recruiting volunteers, the response was huge. By the end of the war, this army had acquired a strength of 2.5 million men and could count itself as the largest all-volunteer force in history. The Indian soldiers made an enormous and game-changing contribution to the allied war effort in almost all the important theatres of the war.