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Roosevelt
India and the awakening East
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India and tKe Av^akening East
BOOKS BY ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
'This Is IVfy Story
This I F^em&mb&r
Indict and h& Awakening East
INDIA
and tke
AWAKENING
EAST
by
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS
New York
INDIA AND THE AWAKENING EAST
Copyright, 1953, by Anna Eleanor Roosevelt
Printed in the United States of America
All rights in this book are reserved.
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in any manner whatsoever without written per-
mission except in the case of brief quotations
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information address Harper & Brothers
49 East 33rd Street, New York 16, N. Y.
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Library of Congress catalog card number: 52-7298
Acknowledgments
Every place I went in the travels which are described in
this book, there are innumerable people to whom I am
deeply grateful for the help they gave me in seeing, learn-
ing and appreciating what was happening in their particular
country.
My thanks should really begin by recognition of all the
co-operation given me in the State Department by the
heads of the bureaus in charge of the countries I visited
and by their officials. In all the countries we visited our
State Department representatives were more than kind.
Every representative of a foreign government was
thoughtful beyond words. I think particularly of the gov-
ernment representatives in Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Israel,
Pakistan, India, Thailand, Indonesia and the Philippines.
My warm thanks go to them all.
In the preparation of this book, I owe warm thanks to
my former secretary, Miss Malvina Thompson, who did a
major part of the work before her death; to Miss Maureen
Corr and Dr. David Gurewitsch, who went with me on
the trip and have been invaluable in helping me remember
many details; and to Miss Marguerite Hoyle, who has
done a great service in rearranging and editing much of my
material.
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS V
INTRODUCTION ix
1 THE ARAB SIDE: LEBANON, SYRIA AND JORDAN 1
2 ISRAEL: A DEDICATED LAND 35
3 AS PAKISTAN SEES IT 50
4 THE KHYBER PASS: A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY 92
5 THE CHANGING INDIA 101
6 NEPAL 208
7 HOMEWARD BOUND 213
BY WAY OF CONCLUSION 221
INDEX 231
Groups of illustrations mil be found joUomng pages 46 md 142.
Introduction
"Why do you want to go on this trip? It is going to be
fatiguing, and my dear, it may even be dangerous! At your
age, why do you want to do it?"
So spoke a solicitous friend of mine when I talked tenta-
tively about accepting the very kind invitation to visit
India which Prime Minister Nehru brought me when he
came to the United States in 1950. I was even a little older
in 1952 when I finally set off on that very rewarding trip.
However, aside from the interest I have always had in seeing
new countries and new people, new habits and customs,
I had a particular reason for wanting to go to that part
of the world, a reason born of my experiences in the UN.
Since that invitation was first extended to me, I had
seen growing in the United Nations a tendency for nations
that are closely joined geographically or by common in-
terests to come together and vote en bloc rather than to
consider each question on its merits and to try objectively to
understand the opposing point of view. I became conscious
of this first during the session of the General Assembly in
New York City in the autumn of 1950. In the last Assembly
1951-1952 which met in Paris, this tendency grew and
was manifest in several committees. It was particularly evi-
[ix]
Introduction
dent in the committee on which I served, one that deals
with humanitarian, cultural and social matters. Of all the
UN committees, Committee Number Three, as it is known,
is perhaps the most quickly responsive to people's real feel-
ings; for it is here that questions come up that have an
emotional rather than an intellectual appeal. Wise handling
would demand the use of both mind and heart; nevertheless
decisions were sometimes made on a purely emotional basis
rather than as the result of careful study and understanding
of all points of view.
In Committee Number Three, feelings ran high over the
question of continuing the Children's Emergency Fund, to
take one example. During the years of fighting, many of
Europe's children had suffered from malnutrition and from
lack of medical care. After the war milk was still scarce, so
many cows having been killed; crops were also inadequate,
since both agricultural implements and fertilizers were
unavailable. Moreover, many children were still living in
makeshift shelters or partially destroyed houses. Most of
us on the Committee knew that once Europe's lands and
Europe's economy were even partly restored, she would
again feed and house her children properly as she had in the
past. In the meantime, to meet the temporary emergency,
she needed not only food and clothing and medicines, but
cod-liver oil, books, paper, pencils and toys.
The idea of the Children's Emergency Fund as an answer
to this need had been suggested by a highly emotional
Introduction
young Norwegian, Mr. Aak Ording. The organization ap-
pealed to a great many countries. Mr. Evatt of Australia
told me that it was the first organization to make the United
Nations come alive to the people of Australia. Here was
something they could understand and respond to, and they
gave to it more liberally than for any other purpose. By 1951
the emergency in Europe was over; in the meantime, how-
ever, the organization had expanded. It had come to the
aid of children among the Palestine refugees; it had started
some work in the Far East, and in Latin America and in
India. Many people felt that it should be continued, if only
for the reason that Mr. Evatt had given me that it pro-
vided a human touch that made the United Nations real
to people throughout the world.
But something interesting had happened: the people now
being reached were people only too familiar with the con-
ditions under which their children had been living; as Mr.
Bokhari, the Pakistan representative, put it, life for them
was "a constant emergency." The United States Congress
was beginning to feel the international drain on the coun-
try's resources. It announced that it would give no more
money now that the organization had ceased to deal with
an emergency, unless the committee would say honestly
that this was no longer emergency work. I tried my best to
explain to the delegates in Committee Number Three the
attitude of our Congress. I explained that these men were
representing generous people, they were generous them-
Introduction
selves, warmhearted and easily touched, but that they also
had a responsibility to their constituents and their country.
Taxpayers' money must be expended wisely and the tax-
payers must know just what it was being spent for.
I explained painstakingly that we, in the United States,
felt it was more honest to face this new situation as a per-
manent one. The children of the Middle East, the Far East
and of some countries in Latin America and Africa have
been underfed, ill-clothed and ill-housed for generations.
There were now some 575,000,000 of them in this category
and even if all the resources of the world were mobilized,
the Children's Emergency Fund could not hope to give each
child as much as half a cup of milk a day.
Our contention was that this problem must be met by
increasing the supply of food in the needy areas. The United
States did not maintain that no surpluses should be dis-
tributed; but it did state that the emphasis should shift
from a program of simply giving out supplies of medicine
and food to a program of carrying through, with the aid
of the member nations themselves, projects that would
increase food supplies and multiply the available technical
services whether the need was for a processing plant or
for medical care or for the production of certain medical
supplies. Since this would be a long-range as well as a
world-wide program, we thought that the administrative
expenses should be included in the United Nations budget
and that every nation should pay a small share of the ad-
Introduction
ministrative burden. We also felt that the new plans must
be carried out in conjunction with other specialized
agencies. Health projects should be worked out in consulta-
tion with the World Health Organization, projects aimed
at increasing food supplies should be developed with the
advice and help of the Food and Agricultural Organization,
those for improving the education of children with
UNESCO. Plans for improving child labor laws ought to be
made in conjunction with the International Labor Organi-
zation.
All of this seemed eminently sensible to me, but Com-
mittee Number Three, as I have suggested, is highly emo-
tional, and led by Mr. Bokhari, its members told me in no
uncertain terms that we should do for the children of the
Middle East and other needy countries exactly what had
been done for the children of Europe. An age-old sore had
come to light and I felt the weight of history for which the
nations of the Western world are now to be called to ac-
count
One day Mr. Bokhari said, "You, Mrs. Roosevelt, do
not care what happens to the children of Asia; they are
colored. The children of Europe are white." Shades of
colonial history, of exploitation in the years gone by, both
political and economic! I could not feel that many of us
had completely clean hands in the pages of history, nor,
while I denied that Mr. BokharTs statement was true, could
I resent his accusations against a system from which the
[xm]
Introduction
East had suffered for many years. Now, as members of the
United Nations, the countries of Asia felt they could ex-
press their feelings openly, for each one of them had an
equal vote in any committee with the governments of the
Western world.
Dr. Karim Azkoul of Lebanon, during the debate, said
something like this: "Mrs. Roosevelt has almost persuaded
me, but she does not know my people. For centuries when
their children have died they have said: 'It is the will of
God/ When their children had been spared they have
said: 'It is the grace of God/ Now if perhaps we showed
them, by giving them proper food and medical care, that
their children need not die, they would turn to their gov-
ernments and insist that conditions be changed and that
their children be given a chance to live in the future/'
I remarked that he was expecting a great deal from people
who had suffered in the same way for centuries. It has
always seemed to me that revolt requires leadership, and a
people with sufficient initiative to make demands upon
their government in the first place. And this in turn requires
a fairly long education in the personal responsibilities of
citizenship, and an experience of free speech and asso-
ciation a background not easily or quickly built up in that
part of the world. Nevertheless, the representatives of these
nations voted overwhelmingly to set up for three years a
Children's Emergency Fund, with the primary object of
distributing supplies.
[xiv]
Introduction
Since then the Fund itself has found that of necessity
it must change its program, and today is following exactly
the course that we in the United States delegation sug-
gested.
In any case, what I mean to bring out is that the awaken-
ing of the East was first felt in Committee Number Three
in the session of 1950. In 1951 and 1952 the lesson was
driven home in committee after committee. I began to
feel that we in the United States did not understand
what created these tensions and emotions that crackled
through the UN and we certainly lacked knowledge of the
conditions out of which they grew. It was to gain this under-
standing, if I could, that I finally decided to accept Prime
Minister Nehru's invitation. For as the months passed, the
problems grew no fewer, the misunderstandings no less
acute. By the time the last session of the Assembly ended
on February 6, 1952, there was not a member of the U.S.
delegation who had not become aware of the complexity of
the difficulties confronting us in Asia. A growing dislike of
the foreigner, particularly in the Middle East, was com-
pounded by the feeling that the great powers, with the
exception of the Soviet Union and China, whose position
was different, belonged to a race that looked down on the
other races of the world. Aggravating all this was an acute
realization of economic dependence and fear of imperialism.
These nations know that they must have aid if they are to
accomplish the reforms that they realize their people are
[XV]
Introduction
beginning to demand. But they dislike the feeling that we
do not consider them equals and do not recognize the con-
tributions they not only could make but have made for
centuries to the development of civilization.
The people of these countries are realizing it is no longer
necessary to live in misery and disease. But they do not
want charity. They belong to the United Nations; their
vote is as good as that of anyone else; they want what they
consider their right an equal chance to develop to a point
where life is worth living.
The question is ? where will their awakening lead, and
who will guide it? Will communism or democracy be the
choice of the awakening East?
[xvi]
India and tke Av^akernng East
1
The Arab Side: Lebanon, Syria
and Jordan
By the time I left Paris on my Eastern trip in February,
1952, my schedule had been expanded to include flying
visits to Lebanon, Syria, Jordan and Israel, as well as Pak-
istan and India. The man chiefly responsible for this change
was Dr. Charles Malik, the brilliant chairman of the United
Nations Committee on Human Rights. Hearing of my plan
to go to India, he had begged me to visit also some of the
Arab countries, particularly his own, pointing out that I
would have to fly over them in any case on my way to
India.
It was a welcome suggestion; and so it was arranged that
I should spend a fortnight seeing something of some of the
Arab countries and Israel, before going on to Pakistan and
India.
Maureen Corr, who works with me in my New York
office, agreed to accompany me on the trip, and we were
to be joined in Jerusalem by Dr. David Gurewitsch, my
India and the Awakening East
personal physician, who had long wanted an opportunity
to revisit Israel and to see India.
Obviously in the short time I had I could not hope to
get deeply beneath the surface of any of these countries or
to become in any sense an expert on their problems. Yet I
did want to see for myself what the conditions were like
and to learn as much as I could about the internal and
external problems these people face and more important
perhaps what and how they thought and felt about them.
I think I did gain some understanding; and because what I
learned has been helpful to me in forming a clearer picture
of the situations our country must deal with in the Middle
East and Asia I decided to write out my observations in the
hope that others too might find them useful.
One impression I formed almost the moment we landed
at the fine modern airport outside Beirut in Lebanon, and
it was strengthened as my trip wore on. There was no doubt
that the feeling against foreigners, about which many people
had warned me, really did exist. Behind the kindness and
the courtesy of the government officials for after all there
is no point in being actually rude to the United States or
its representatives I was fully conscious of a certain amount
of hostility. One of our own government people who was
stationed there cautioned me to remember that the diplo-
matic gestures of the officials of the Lebanese government
did not really represent the attitude of the people as a
whole. The Lebanese officials themselves were apparently
The Arab Side
a little apprehensive, for at first, wherever I went, I was
accompanied by a carload of soldiers, and security officers
were everywhere. Whenever we stopped even for a moment
the soldiers all swarmed out of the car alertly; it was only
too evident that they thought I might be unpleasantly re-
ceived. Though I appreciated the official solicitude for my
well-being, I could not bring myself to believe that all these
precautions were really necessary and when I finally insisted
on dispensing with my armed guard I am afraid they
credited me with being either unwarrantably courageous
or foolhardy. However, there were no untoward incidents;
and I found on the whole, when I actually got out among
the people themselves, in their homes and shops, and talked
to them singly or in groups, that the atmosphere was
friendly and hospitable.
Nevertheless, the dislike, or at best the mistrust, that the
people of the Near and Middle East feel toward the West
in general not only the United States is a reality and it
is a reality which we have to take into consideration and
try to understand rather than simply resent, if we are to be
effective there. Actually it is not hard to understand when
one reflects that for literally hundreds of centuries the Arab
world has been misruled by wave after wave of conquerors.
There were the Egyptians and before them the Phoenicians;
after the Egyptians came the Assyrians and Hittites and
Persians, Greeks, Romans, Moslems. They were invaded by
the Crusaders, the Mongols, and the Mamelukes of Egypt
[3]
India and the Awakening East
Then for four hundred years they were under Turkish rule,
until after the First World War, when Lebanon and Syria
were made a French mandate and Jordan a British mandate.
Lebanon and Syria did not gain complete independence
until 1943 and Jordan not until 1946. Lebanon and Syria
both adopted a republican form of government with a
president and a parliament (though Syria is now ruled by
a military junta); Jordan is a kingdom, with a House of
Representatives elected by the people and a House of
Notables appointed by the king.
Under few of their rulers, I am afraid, was the welfare
of the country of much moment, and the people were ex-
ploited, impoverished and repressed. With such a history,
it is easy to understand how jealous they are of their new
but long-dreamed-of independence and why they react so
suspiciously to any suggestion of foreign influence.
Understandable though their attitude is, however, it is a
tragedy for their own sake as well as for ours. For these
countries with their land depleted, their population grow-
ing, their water supplies inadequate are in desperate need
of outside help. When I was there Syria had refused to
accept Point Four aid, fearing it would mean economic
domination by the United States. Lebanon too was at first
suspicious of our motives, but eventually agreed to accept
our co-operation and now has an active Point Four program.
Nevertheless, I think whenever a country is reluctant to
accept our aid, we would be wiser not to force matters but
[4]
The Arab Side
to hold back and wait until we are asked for help. If we
did this, they would be less inclined to worry about the
reasons behind our offer. They believe that our objection
to communism has much to do with our concern for them,
so they cannot believe that our motives are altogether un-
selfish or disinterested. They do not understand that in our
own interest we want to help them achieve a standard of
living that will make that part of the world politically stable.
Consequently, though they need our help, they are all too
often afraid to take it, lest we use our Point Four program
to dominate them.
I learned quickly that each of the problems confronting
these countries has many aspects; they are all so intercon-
nected that it is impossible to isolate any one of them and
deal with it alone. For instance, what hits you in the face
wherever you go is the appalling poverty of the people in
general whether peasant or town dweller a poverty that
the average American farmer or worker would find it hard
to conceive of. When you try to get at the root of it, you
find a combination of causes. For one thing, though the
economy of the Arab world is predominantly agricultural, it
does not have enough land under efficient cultivation to
feed its own people. This in spite of the fact that every
possible bit of ground is made use of. Citrus fruits, olives,
dates, cereals are the main food products of these countries
and one sees them growing in the most unlikely places.
The mountains are high and steep but they are terraced
[5]
India and the Awakening East
from top to bottom and cultivated even more assiduously
than they are in Switzerland. To an American it is really
incredible how every little bit of ground is made to yield
some portion of a man's living. On the way to Beit-ed-dine
one day, an ancient and beautiful summer palace high in
the hills above Beirut, we stopped off to visit briefly with
a Lebanese farmer and his family. They welcomed us
warmly and invited us into the house, which was meagerly
though adequately furnished with pieces that obviously
had been gathered one by one over many generations. But
I was most interested in his tiny, well-tended mountainside
wheat fields. It struck me forcibly how eloquently they
bespoke the industry and resourcefulness of these men of
the soil. Our host was well-to-do by Lebanese standards,
yet he told me that in addition to farming his own place,
he had to work by the day for others in order to eke out
his family's living.
Part of the trouble is that these countries have still to go
through the industrial revolution. Their methods of farm-
ing are unbelievably primitive ploughing for example is
done with a stick and oxen, and hand sickles are used in
harvesting. In all this area of the world it is men's hands
and their beasts of burden that do the work. Modern im-
plements would make a tremendous difference to them,
though I can readily see it would be impossible to use our
big agricultural machinery on some of these small, steep
and rocky fields. The land itself is poor. Centuries of de-
[6]
The Arab Side
forestation and overgrazing have resulted inevitably in a
cruel erosion of the earth as the rains have carried off the
topsoil. Moreover, the region is dry and hot, the rainfall
scanty, flood control and irrigation systems few and usually
primitive. In some of the villages of Lebanon dams built,
I believe, by the Phoenicians are still being used. Indeed,
I found lack of water a fundamental problem everywhere I
went.
Meanwhile the population of the area is growing, which
means that the pressure of the people on the land is in-
creasing. This question of population is one that came up
in almost every conversation, for all the government officials
as well as the outside experts are keenly aware of its serious-
ness. Even emigration cannot wholly solve it. Ever since
the nineties large numbers of Lebanese have been leaving
the country every year; and today, I am told, more of them
are living in other countries than in Lebanon itself.
Another factor contributing to the over-all destitution of
the Arab countries is of course the high rate of illiteracy.
Here Lebanon has the best record of any of the Middle
Eastern Arab states only about a fifth of its people are
unable to read and write whereas in the rest of the Arab
countries the rate is around 90 per cent and in the rural
areas nearer 95 per cent. What this means is that the
peasants are not able to take advantage of the information
about new or better methods of agriculture that would
otherwise be available to them. If they could read and
[7]
India and the Awakening East
write, it would be possible to make them understand a
great many things, not only about farming but about such
matters as sanitation, public health and conservation, that
now have to be explained to them by word of mouth, or
demonstrated. Industrially, too, the countries of the Middle
East desperately need technical assistance from the United
States and through the United Nations if they are ever to
develop to the point where they can provide employment
for their people and raise their standard of living. They
have few modern industries; the little they have in the way
of mineral resources is largely undeveloped, and there is
no hydroelectric power to speak of.
Of the three countries I visited in this area, Jordan was
the least advanced and Lebanon the furthest. The Lebanese
are and have been since the days of the Phoenicians shrewd
traders and merchants. Their principal city, Beirut, is a
busy commercial port, accessible both by sea and air, and
a favorite stop for cruise ships. I shall never forget my first
morning there when I opened my window and looked out
on the incredibly beautiful blue harbor and brilliant red
beach with the mountains rising steeply behind. The air
was soft but it had an exhilarating tang that one does not
ordinarily find in a warm climate. Beirut has good hotels,
modern steel and concrete apartment houses, telephones
that work, trolleys and an enormous number of American-
made cars, good French shops and French restaurants.
Indeed, the city has a distinctly French feel, and I am
[8]
The Arab Side
told that the French are still active in the business life of
the community. Lebanon, it is true, does have a number
of new industries. I went through one very modern textile
mill in which all the machinery had been brought from
England. It was up-to-date in every way, and the workers'
health was protected by an efficient air-conditioning system,
which sucked the dust particles from the air.
In Syria, too, cotton is an important crop, and the textile
industry is growing faster than any other. The mill I visited
there was not quite so modern as the one I saw in Lebanon.
The machinery came from the United States but there was
no air conditioning; however, I was glad to see that the rule
requiring the workers to wear masks was being pretty care-
fully observed.
The crowded covered bazaars of Damascus, which I
found fascinating, gave colorful evidence of the enterprise
of the Syrians. And the variety and excellence of their gold
and silver work, their copper and brass utensils, their
leather goods and silks and wood carvings prove that their
ancient skills still exist. There's no question that as shop-
keepers these people are good. They seem to know in-
stinctively how to buy, how to display, how to sell.
I was not in Jordan long enough to see a great deal,
though I crowded in as much as I could. It is, of course,
largely desert, except for the fertile western portion which
has great agricultural possibilities. Jordan also has some
potash and phosphate deposits under development, and
[9]
India and the Awakening East
surveys for oil are now being made. On the whole, however,
both the desert Arabs and the agricultural workers in
Jordan only just barely manage to keep alive. And, as I have
tried to show, the lot of the average peasant or townsman
in Lebanon or Syria is not a great deal better.
As an inevitable corollary, all these countries have a
serious unemployment problem. Even in a bustling city like
Beirut, with a population of 211,000, there are some 50,000
unemployed white collar workers alone.
It is conditions such as I have been describing that make
the promises of communism seem attractive. The Com-
munist Party has been outlawed and has gone underground
throughout this area, but though its actual numbers are
small it is a well-trained active group. Its propaganda has
played a considerable part in awakening the people of the
Middle East to a realization of the miserableness of their
lot And anyone who visits here even briefly can have no
doubt that these people are stirring. They are restless and
dissatisfied with things as they are as indeed they should
be and out of their growing political consciousness are
beginning to express their dissatisfaction.
I recall so vividly a Syrian working man a tile worker
to whom I talked in Damascus. Accompanied by a young
woman in our legation, who had been doing social work, I
walked down a little street, too narrow to permit the
passage of a car, and through a door in a blank wall entered
a courtyard where tiles were piled high. In the center was
[10]
The Arab Side
a fountain and carved figurines and small trees. From this
courtyard we went through another and on into the first
room of the little dwelling. This room was reserved for
visitors. A little iron stove stood in the middle; a sofa and
some chairs were arranged around the walls, and in one
corner there was a fine bed with embroidered covers. I was
told privately that this bed was probably never used. There
were also two small shy children who stared at us out of large
black eyes as if we were unfamiliar animals.
I was curious to see the rest of the house, so our host led
us through a little outside passageway into another room
which, like the first, opened onto the court. Here the fur-
niture was arranged exactly the same way, but the bed
was not so elaborate and the room also contained a narrow
child's bed. Beyond this apparently was a kitchen, and
through a grille in the wall I caught sight of a woman's face
and eyes peering curiously at the strange bold creatures
with uncovered faces who were so lost to all sense of mod-
esty that they would dare to talk to men who were not
their husbands or members of their immediate family.
Back in the visitors' room again we asked our host about
wages and working conditions, and he was eloquent in his
reply. It was hard for a man to get along; he himself could
not earn enough making tiles to support his family. To
bring in a little more, he had taken on an additional job
dyeing tiles but even so it was not enough, not with the
price of food and other essential items so high. He was
India and the Awakening East
resentful and dissatisfied, and articulate in stating his con-
viction that something was wrong with conditions when it
was impossible for a man to take care of his family, no
matter how hard and long he worked.
In spite of his poverty, however, he insisted on making
coffee for us before we went; and as I had been told Arab
hospitality must never be refused, I accepted. It was, as I
had anticipated, very hot, very black.
To digress for a moment, I had soon found out that
whomever one visits out there, whether a Bedouin tribes-
man, a government official, a university professor, or a
farmer, one is always served coffee. The traditional Arab
coffee, served in tiny half cups, is black and bitter. I do not
really care for it very much, but of course I always drank it.
To my discomfiture, however, I found that as soon as I
returned my cup to the tray it was invariably refilled. I was
in a considerable quandary until a kind friend took pity on
me and told me that the trick was to give your cup a little
shake as you returned it to the tray. This signalled that you
had had enough. Thereafter I shook pointedly.
One evening, dining with our Minister to Lebanon,
Harold Minor, and his wife, I had an opportunity to see
Arab coffee brewed in the traditional way. Earlier in the
evening I had thoroughly enjoyed an exhibition of really
beautiful native costumes, borrowed for the purpose from
a museum in Jerusalem and modeled by some charming
young Lebanese women. After dinner the Minors' cook
The Arab Side
appeared in the entrance to the living room with his coffee-
making paraphernalia. First he measured out the coffee
beans and then ground them, singing a strange little tune
all the while. Precisely at the right moment he added the
water. Finally when the bitter brew was ready, it was passed
around in the tiniest of cups from which fortunately one is
expected to take only a few swallows. It is quite a ceremony
and, I realized as I watched, one that requires considerable
skill and energy. While the coffee making was going on
someone passed around a hubble-bubble pipe, and I thought
of the hookah smoked by the caterpillar in Alice. It has a
long flexible tube and the smoke is cooled and filtered by
being drawn through a container of water to which the tube
and pipe bowl are attached. All the men tried it, and
some of the ladies, but apparently this also demands skill,
for, as I remember, only one person was good at it.
To get back to my Damascan tile maker, there is no
doubt that he voiced the feelings of the great masses of
people in this part of the world. They simply are no longer
willing to suffer the grinding poverty and exploitation
whether under their own governments or a foreign power
that they have experienced in the past.
To be fair, the best of the government officials and the
responsible businessmen are aware of this growing unrest.
In Lebanon I had a delightful and rewarding evening with
the President of the Republic, Bechara el Khoury* and his
* Deposed by a military coup, September, 1952
India and the Awakening East
charming wife, and found them not only keenly conscious
of the political and economic situation but eager to talk
about possible developments and ways in which our coun-
tries could co-operate. Another evening I was entertained
at dinner by a wealthy Lebanese businessman, Henri
Pharaon, whose home is literally a museum of fabulous art
treasures. There, among the group of government officials
and businessmen he had invited as my fellow guests, I heard
a lively, informed and thoughtful discussion of the prob-
lems Lebanon faces. I left convinced that among the people
at the top, at least, there were men with the ability, training
and enterprise to make good use of any technical and eco-
nomic help the United States or the United Nations could
give,
In Syria and in Jordan, too, I found at the top an aware-
ness of the need for economic development; the business-
men I talked to seemed to recognize that changes were
inevitable and that the living conditions of the people must
be improved. Factory owners, for example, spoke of the
need for better housing for the workers and of their desire
to start some kind of housing plans. At the textile mill I
inspected in Damascus I was shown with pride the living
quarters they had begun to provide for their foremen, and
told that as conditions permitted they intended to start a
housing project for the rest of their workers. But it was
evident and this was true in Lebanon, too that it was
being done on a charitable or benevolent basis, a kind of
The Arab Side
paternalism, rather than for sound economic reasons. It was
this attitude as much as anything that made me feel that,
in Syria and Jordan especially, though they have accepted
the thought of change, they have no idea of the number
and extent of the changes that will be necessary.
Apparently it is very hard for the ruling classes in these
countries to realize that the people's whole conception of
their individual rights is changing, and eventually will re-
quire a semi-revolution even to the sharing of profits
before their desire for greater economic rewards and a
greater participation in the government can be satisfied.
Neither did it seem to me that they were making the
intelligent long-range plans that must precede any real and
effective economic development. Here, as in most of the
other countries of the Middle East, administrative in-
efficiency is a real handicap; so is the lack of knowledge of
how to meet the diverse problems of organization; so is the
lack of trained personnel to carry out the plans after they
are made. Of course they have, as I have said, a few trained
and energetic people at the top. But to carry out any big
long-range improvement, whether in industry, agriculture
or government, requires innumerable devoted, well-trained
workers and these people as yet are simply not available.
This is such a basic requirement that almost the first thing
needed is a system of schools where young people can be
educated in various necessary capacities. The experience of
other countries, foreign technical experts, teachers, ex-
India and the Awakening East
change student arrangements and so on could all be very
helpful here; but before this is possible Syria and Jordan
must first recognize their needs and want co-operation where
they can get it. Unfortunately their long experience with
the workings of imperialism have made them reluctant to
accept, much less to ask for, any help from the big powers.
There is one other circumstance, I am afraid, which those
behind any genuine economic or political reform program
have to struggle against. The standard of government in all
these countries allows for greater self-interest on the part
of their public servants than is good for the country. As far
as I could see, people for the most part do not go into
government work unselfishly, with the idea of serving the
country and their people; on the contrary, most of them
feel it is entirely legitimate to use a government position
for private profit. Although this practice is certainly not
unknown in our own country, it is not with us an accepted
conception of government service, but rather a matter for
investigation and prosecution. Obviously, in any country
where the point of view of self-interest prevails, the enlight-
ened leaders are going to have an uphill job in instituting
permanent and far-reaching reforms. Here again they can
be helped by a firm, informed and consistent policy on the
part of the United States.
As I traveled about I grew increasingly conscious that the
weight of the past lies on all these Arab lands. This is, I
think, one reason why they do not move more easily into
The Arab Side
the present They think back to the days when, under the
banner of Islam, the Arab armies conquered most of the
known world; to the days under the Empire when Arab
universities and the courts at Baghdad and Damascus were
great centers of learning; when as philosophers, poets,
mathematicians, astronomers, chemists, they made contri-
butions to science and literature that enriched and influ-
enced the entire world. It is easier for them now to look
back upon these conquests and glories of the past than it is
to face the problems of today.
In all that I have written, I have been trying to show how
many factors one must take into consideration in trying
to get at the root reasons for the appalling poverty of the
Near and Middle East, how many problems must be tackled
and seemingly all at once. I have not begun to exhaust
the list of causes, but I have mentioned enough I think to
show the complexity of the situation and the urgency of
the need for help.
It is therefore heartening to find that some headway is
being made. In February of last year, for instance, Jordan
and the United States signed a Point Four agreement under
which we contributed over two and a half million dollars
and Jordan one million. The money is to be used in various
ways but mainly to develop the country's water resources
and to set up certain agricultural projects.
Although Syria refused Point Four aid, she has recognized
the ferment among the people in various practical ways.
India and the Awakening East
Significant, I think, is the provision in the new constitution
adopted in 1950 pointing toward the breaking up of large
land holdings, one of the blights on the Arab world. This
provision states that "a maximum limit for land ownership
shall be prescribed by law/' In addition to agricultural col-
leges in Selenie and Bekaa, and an engineering college in
Aleppo, Syria has a fine modern government agricultural
experiment station and school some distance outside
Damascus. I thought, as I went through it, that in many
respects it might have come straight from the United
States. There were good people at its head; valuable soil
testing and other experiments were being carried out; and
excellent courses in animal husbandry, modern agricultural
methods and so on were being given. There were seventy-
five students in the school, carefully chosen from villages in
the surrounding countryside. The idea, of course, was that
when they had completed their studies they would return
to their villages, to put into practice and to teach others
what they had learned. But as nearly as I could tell from
the answers to my questions, no plans existed for reaching
any large number of villages in a systematic way; or for
keeping up and spreading the results of the work through
some central control. The people at the school told me
that the farmers round about frequently came in for advice
and information and really made use of what they learned.
Knowing how slow farmers everywhere are to change their
ways, I felt privately that until the teaching and example
[18]
The Arab Side
of the school's graduates in their own communities had had
a chance to take effect, there would be no very startling im-
provements.
Lebanon, as contrasted to Syria, has a flourishing Point
Four program. Citrus fruits are Lebanon's main export, and
new ways to harvest and market them are being developed;
hybrid corn is being imported, and there is a project under
way to improve the livestock of the country. In the public
health field, efforts are being made to stamp out malaria
and improve the sanitation of the villages. There are also
courses for public health nurses.
Money and technical assistance are also being put into
irrigating and electrifying some of the villages. There is a
big project of this sort in southern Lebanon, which is very
dry. Water supplies are being improved. Students are being
sent to the United States to study in our universities.
Incidentally one of the most far-reaching and positive
influences in the Middle East today is the American Uni-
versity at Beirut. Almost since the year of its founding in
1866 it has been an integral part of the life of the area. It
is here that many of the men in public life in the Near and
Middle East received their education, and many others as
well who have been successful elsewhere. One of the most
beautiful of its fifty or more buildings was given to the
University by a businessman in Rio de Janiero in memory
of his father, who had been a student there. A nonsectarian
institution, it was founded through private donations,
India and the Awakening East
largely American, and is still financed by individual sub-
scriptions and student fees. Under Dr. S. B. L. Penrose, the
present president, it has expanded until it now numbers
some twenty-seven hundred students both men and
women of forty different nationalities. It has a medical
school, schools of nursing and pharmacy, a hospital and
several active clinics, which last year served about forty
thousand patients. The students of the medical school do
public health work in the slums and work as interns in the
villages. The University also includes a preparatory school,
a school of arts and sciences, a school of commerce. A new
school of agriculture and an experimental farm, toward
which the Ford Foundation last year contributed half a
million dollars, will further extend and intensify the work
and influence of the University in the entire Arab world.
In addition, the University offers 175 Technical Coopera-
tion Administration fellowships in such subjects as public
health, engineering, industrial chemistry and economics.
These were made possible by a Point Four grant, the fellow-
ship students being selected by the governments of Leb-
anon, Syria, Jordan and the other Arab countries.
Altogether I found in Lebanon a most encouraging demon-
stration of what Point Four aid can mean when it is in-
telligently directed and applied.
Another hopeful sign in the Middle Eastern picture
one I found particularly encouraging is the beginning of a
developing social conscience among the Moslem women.
[20!
The Arab Side
For centuries they have held an inferior position in the
Moslem world and have had almost no rights of any kind.
Wives owed complete obedience to their husbands, who
could divorce them at will or beat them for impropriety.
They could not appear unveiled in public or participate in
any social activity, even in their own homes, at which men
outside their own families were present They were not
deemed worthy of an education, and it goes without saying
that they could not vote.
Now, however, the picture is changing at least to some
extent. Women, particularly among the professional classes,
are beginning to shake off their seclusion, to interest them-
selves in problems outside their homes. It is not happening
in the Arab countries so rapidly as and to the degree that
it is in Pakistan and India, for there has not been the same
encouragement or incentive. But it is worth noting that
under the new Syrian Constitution women now have the
vote, and some though not many as yet are using it.
This trend, if it continues and I feel sure that it must
will play an increasingly important part in the awakening
of the peoples of the Near and Middle East and in hasten-
ing the practical measures that will rid them of their grind-
ing poverty.
The Mohammedan religion is felt as a factor not only
in the lives of Moslem women, but in every aspect of Mos-
lem life social, economic, political. It is a tie that unites
all Moslems everywhere, regardless of country, race or color,
India and the Awakening East
in a kind of religious brotherhood. The trouble is that not
only does it unite Moslem and Moslem, but it unites them,
in any difference of opinion, against all non-Moslems. Any-
one who has not had to reckon with it would find it hard to
believe how completely this sense of religious community
governs their every act even at times when self-interest
might seem to demand a different course. We have seen
how it works politically in the United Nations for ex-
ample, in the dispute between France and Tunisia and
Morocco. The Arab countries in the Near and Middle East
are not really affected by conditions in these French pro-
tectorates, yet solely because of the religious tie they are
solidly behind the Tunisian and Moroccan demands on
France.
We shall see presently how it is working and to their
own detriment in the case of the Israeli-Arab dispute and
how it is affecting the arrangement of a final peace settle-
ment.
Leaving the council halls aside for the moment, their
religion reaches even into the kitchen of a Moslem home
and controls what they shall eat and how they shall cook
it. Certain foods are forbidden; certain foods are permitted,
and every Moslem housewife in every Moslem country the
world over must follow the same rules in preparing the
dishes for her family's meals. There are no local variations.
Considering the preponderance of Moslems in this area,
and the dominant role their religion plays in their lives, it
The Arab Side
is not surprising that religious toleration has not been one
of the outstanding characteristics of these countries. An
exception is Lebanon. I was glad this country was my intro-
duction to the Middle East, for its policy of religious and
political tolerance creates a climate which is more congenial
to the Westerner than that he is apt to find in some of the
other Arab countries. I, at least, found Lebanon easier to
understand. The victims of political upsets or religious wars
and persecutions in neighboring states have long found
asylum here. The country is also unique in the Middle East
in that here Christians outnumber Moslems 55 per cent to
45 per cent Syria's 3^2 million people are largely Moslem,
and in Jordan only 90,000 out of some i?/2 million are non-
Moslems. In the Lebanon Parliament, or Chamber of
Deputies as it is called, every religion is represented. The
country is divided into religious districts Moslem, Druse,
Christian and so forth and the delegate elected from each
district must be of a corresponding faith.
This does not mean, however, that the Moslems of Leb-
anon are not as deeply conscious of the Islamic tie as the
Moslems anywhere else. There, as in other Arab lands, one
is aware always of the religion of Mohammed as a pervasive,
sometimes subtle, but powerful force. This may not be an
altogether happy situation for us, any more than it is, in my
opinion, for them. Nevertheless, we had better be aware
of it and watch it. For just as the Soviet Union has made
a religion out of a political creed communism so, by a
India and the Awakening East
kind of reverse twist, the followers of Islam have made
their religion an integral and controlling part of their
political life.
The problem that seems to me to overshadow every other
in the entire Middle East is the fate of the Arab refugees
from Palestine. This is what everyone was most eager to
talk to me about. The feeling behind the original opposi-
tion of the Arab states to the creation of Israel as an inde-
pendent nation was, of course, only intensified when in the
late spring of 1948 the new Zionist state was actually pro-
claimed. The opposition of the Arabs, conflicting with the
determination of the Jews to hold what they felt was right-
fully theirs, resulted inevitably in open warfare. At the end
of the fighting, Israel was in possession not only of the
territory designated as hers by the United Nations, but half
again as much, including the New City part of Jerusalem,
though the Arabs still held the Old City. When the United
Nations reaffirmed its decision to internationalize Jerusalem,
it got no support from either side, and the fighting con-
tinued until February, 1949, when, through the efforts of
Dr. Ralph Bunche, the UN mediator, an armistice was
signed. About ten months later, in December, 1949, Israel
announced she was moving her capital to Jerusalem.
Hapless victims of the conflict were approximately 800,-
ooo Arabs living in Palestine, who during the fighting fled
to neighboring Arab countries. Most of them are now living
in refugee camps, unassimrlated and unwanted either by
the country of refuge or by Israel. They simply exist
The Arab Side
wretchedly, hopelessly, a constant thorn in the side of the
Arab body politic, and a continuing source of bitter con-
troversy between Israel and the Arab states.
What makes it difficult for the visitor who goes there, as
I did, with a desire to get a rounded, balanced picture of the
situation is that on this subject everyone's thinking is com-
pletely colored by his emotions. All one can do is to get the
Arab point of view in the Arab countries, the Israeli point
of view in Israel, balance them against each other and
against one's own background of information.
For example, during one of my early press conferences,
when questioned on my interpretation of the Balfour Dec-
laration, I said I had always assumed that when Lord Bal-
four pledged British support for a Jewish national home in
Palestine, he had meant that the Jews should have their
own country under their own government. I was told that
not only did the Declaration not mean this, but that Lord
Balfour had told the Jewish leader, Chaim Weizmann, that
it did not. I recalled a conversation I had once had with Dr.
Weizmann at Lake Success, in which he told me what Lord
Balfour had said to him. Since his account accorded with
my own understanding, and both were so completely at vari-
ance with the interpretation now advanced by my Arab
questioners, I decided this was simply one of those emo-
tional questions about which feelings run so high that
neither side can concede even the possibility of another
point of view.
But I also determined that while I was in the Arab coun-
India and the Awakening East
tries I was going to get as clear a picture as possible in my
mind of the way they saw the question. For this I found
one cannot do better than to talk to the professors at the
American University at Beirut. They give one an excellent
account of the Arab side of any controversy between the
Arab nations and Israel. At a tea given for me by Dr. Pen-
rose and his wife, a number of us sat around in a circle and
talked for a long time. They feel very strongly that the crux
of the trouble was the partition of Palestine and the creation
of Israel as an independent state; this they are convinced
was a serious mistake on the part of the United Nations,
along with our earlier encouragement of the Jews 7 desire
for independence. What the Arabs had urged was inde-
pendence for Palestine as a whole, with the Jews to be a
protected minority. They contend that during the years
when Palestine was governed as an entity under the British
mandate, there had been no trouble between Arabs and
Jews; they had lived together there side by side, peacefully
and harmoniously. Trouble started only when the Jews
began trying to set up a separate government of their own.
Remembering the Arab-Jewish riots in Jerusalem in 1929,
one may question the soundness of this argument Neverthe-
less, that is the way the Arabs feel, deeply and sincerely.
They also feel that we are continuing to favor Israel at
their expense. Some of the people in responsible positions
there, including Dr. Penrose, warn us that if this thought
The Arab Side
becomes fixed and widespread enough, the peoples of the
Arab nations may well turn for help toward Moscow.
So there is bitterness and resentment; and there is also
fear. Israel has received something like 700,000 immigrants
in the last few years both from Europe and from neighbor-
ing Arab states. Observing this constant stream of immigra-
tion, the Arabs are haunted by the fear that Israel will soon
become too crowded and will then try to expand by taking
over more Arab territory. I tried to make them understand
that their surest defense was in a strong United Nations that
opposed aggression everywhere; but I am afraid that I was
not successful in allaying their fear.
Paradoxically, they will sometimes tell you that the Arabs
have long memories and someday will drive the people of
Israel into the sea a claim not altogether consistent with
their expressed fear of Israeli aggression. However, I dis-
covered long ago that people are seldom consistent when
faced with a difficult and emotional situation.
Bitter though the responsible officials are, they can
quite understandably talk more objectively about the Arab-
Israeli difficulties than can the refugees themselves.
While I was in Beirut a group of educated refugees invited
me to visit them and hear their stories. They told me how
cruelly they had been driven from their homes in Palestine
and forced to abandon their possessions at a moment's no-
tice. Though these particular people were among the few
fortunate ones who have found an opportunity to practice
India and the Awakening East
their professions and build a new life, their eviction still
rankled and they declared they would never be satisfied until
they could return to their homes in Palestine.
I liked these people and felt desperately sorry for them,
realizing that they are simply the helpless victims of the
history of their times, and have been caught in a struggle
that is beyond their understanding. But though I sym-
pathized with them, my greatest sympathy went to the vast
majority who have not been able to find work and who are
still living in refugee camps.
Conditions in the camps I visited are pitiful. In some of
them only a few hundred may be quartered, in others as
many as sixteen thousand may be living in tents pitched on
steep hillsides or set up on hot, barren plains where the dust
swirls constantly. In one hillside camp I saw, many of the
tents had been blown down the night before in a storm.
Scorpions and poisonous snakes are a constant menace. One
distraught mother led me to the spot where a snake had
bitten her baby only a few hours ago. Happily prompt
treatment had saved its life.
Other refugees perhaps more fortunate are housed in
mosques. Here, for each family one little square partitioned
off by sacking is "home." In a corner a small one-burner
primus stove serves for all the cooking that is done.
In all the camps respiratory diseases take a big toll in the
winter, dysentery and fevers in summer. Undernourished and
dispirited people do not have much resistance. There are
[28]
The Arab Side
hospitals of course, where doctors and nurses give the best
care they can, but the situation is not very satisfactory.
I could not find much consolation in the fact that most
of the people came originally from homes that were none
too comfortable in any case and so were used to poor living.
For the others and there are a number of them, I am
told who were professional people in comfortable cir-
cumstances, living under the conditions in these camps
must be intolerable.
All these refugees, except for the small minority who
have managed to make new lives for themselves outside
the camps, have been for the past four years under the
care of the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for
Palestine Refugees. And their number is constantly being
increased by the infiltration of Arabs from the desert, where
food is even scarcer than it is in the camps. What food, what
clothing, what shelter, what medical care, what education
these people have had has been provided through the United
Nations Agency, though the Red Cross has helped out
where it could. But very little has been done for them by
the countries of their asylum. Jordan, to be sure, has taken
steps toward absorbing into its economy some of the ap-
proximately 600,000 refugees within its borders. It has
granted them citizenship and permits them to leave the
camps and find work if they can. And there is some hope
that its UN-backed 5o~million-dollar irrigation program may
eventually give work to 150,000 of them. But Jordan, with
India and the Awakening East
its large nomad population and agricultural economy, has a
serious unemployment problem without the addition of
zefugees, and opportunities are limited. Certainly the small
efforts that have been made toward their resettlement have
not been on any scale commensurate with the problem.
Syria has plenty of land and needs settlers, but it has not
granted its refugees citizenship, nor made any real attempt
to use them. In Lebanon the refugees are perhaps in the
worst case of all. Again it is partly an economic problem,
since the country cannot now feed or provide employment
for its own citizens, let alone a flood of refugees. But there
is also the fact that, as I have explained, representation in
the Lebanon Parliament is based on religious rather than
political groups, and no one wants to see the present deli-
cate balance upset, as it would be by the permanent addi-
tion to the population of some 100,000 refugees. This is
perfectly understandable; nevertheless, the fact remains that
while Lebanon will accept refugees on a temporary basis as
long as the UN will support them, it will do nothing to en-
courage them to feel they are permanently settled. Conse-
quently, the refugees in the Lebanese camps think of their
situation as a temporary one and make no effort to find work
or to occupy themselves constructively in the camps. For
after all, will they not soon be going home?
The tragedy is not only that as things stand they are an
economic burden on the country that harbors them, a fer-
tile field for Communist agitators and a storehouse of dyna-
[30]
The Arab Side
mite as far as the peace of the Middle East is concerned. The
greater tragedy to my mind is the loss of skills, the death of
pride, the breakdown of morale in short, the human waste
and the deterioration that is the inevitable result of enforced
idleness and a seemingly hopeless future. In all my talks
with Arab officials and others in responsible positions, I pro-
tested that these people, whether in the end they were to
be repatriated or resettled, would be of no future use unless
their skills and work habits were preserved. And unless the
older ones passed on what they knew to the younger ones,
none of them would be of any use ever, anywhere. My argu-
ments always met with at least passive agreement, but it
was an agreement born, I felt, of perfect politeness and
complete inertia.
So they go on, nearly 800,000 refugees, figuratively and
literally rotting away, depending on the UN for every basic
need, living only for the day they can return to the homes
they were forced to leave. In many cases, I am sure, these
homes have long since been destroyed, but that is a pos-
sibility no one would dare suggest to any of them.
I could not help wondering whether in all instances this
precipitate flight from Palestine was absolutely necessary.
Of course, as in all wars, atrocities were perpetrated by both
sides, and certainly the Arabs were told stories and shown
pictures of cruelties committed during the fighting between
Israeli and Arab forces. In one case the entire population
of a Moslem town was massacred one night; and I was
India and the Awakening East
told during a United Nations meeting of another place
where innocent people were killed and thrown down a well,
their bodies later to be recovered by the Red Cross.
One cannot be surprised that such things happened, nor
can one blame the people that fled, for they were obviously
driven by a great fear; also there is no doubt that they ex-
pected to return shortly with the victorious Arab armies.
But one is surprised that they would leave places that were
fairly safe, unless from panic and hysteria spread through
authoritative channels. And it is a fact that some of the
villages that were evacuated were not threatened at all or
even in the path of the fighting. It is also a fact that some
170,000 Moslems are still living peacefully and unharmed
in Israel. The truth is that the Arab authorities are to a large
extent responsible for this wholesale flight. Mass evacua-
tion was apparently a part of their strategy. They urged the
people to leave, assuring them of the quick success of the
Arab armies. Then, they were promised, not only would they
get back their own land but would share in the spoils won
from the Israelis. Arab responsibility for the present situa-
tion must be shared, it seeems to me, by the British, who
furnished the refugees with transportation.
But memories are short when people suffer, and today
most of the people in the camps, thinking only of what
they have lost, put the blame for their wretched plight on
Israel and the United States rather than on their own
leaders and the British.
The Arab Side
Meanwhile the Arab leaders find it to their interest to
keep alive the bitter feeling, using as a political weapon the
demands of an unhappy people to have their wrongs righted.
All attempts by the United Nations to settle the differ-
ences between Arabs and Israelis have been baited by the
intransigence of both sides. The Arabs insist that Israel must
repatriate or compensate all refugees; to this Israel will not
and indeed cannot agree. But so long as both sides
continue to pin full responsibility for the refugee problem
on the other, they will never be able to come to terms on
the ultimate disposition of the refugees. And until they do,
the hostility between them will remain a menace to the
peace and stability of the entire Middle East.
The sooner this ominous fact is faced, the better it will
be for all. The past must be forgotten and the future must
be made possible by the international community. The
United Nations, to be sure, is doing what it can; last year
it made available 2% million dollars for rehabilitation proj-
ects and the director of its Arab Refugee Agency reported
that some headway had been made in improving living con-
ditions in the camps. But all this is no final solution. Prej-
udices and feelings must be put aside and the whole refugee
problem looked upon as an economic one. Israel must realize
the benefit to her of establishing peaceful relations. She
needs the resources of the Arab countries; she needs Arab
oil, and food and raw materials. A final peace settlement
would make all these available to her, and available in even
[33]
India and the Awakening East
greater measure if she could send her trained administrators
and skilled technicians to help the Arabs modernize their
methods and develop their so far untapped resources.
Obviously the Arabs too would gain immeasurably if
such friendly arrangements were possible. The industry and
energy of the Jews of Israel, the skills, the organizing ability
and technical knowledge they brought with them from
other countries, if applied to some of the problems of the
Arab economy, could do much to raise the standard of liv-
ing in every country in this area. But the Arab League has
forbidden its members to have relations of any kind with
Israel; they cannot even import the products Israel manu-
factures which they need.
Instead the Arabs still talk hopefully of wiping out the
people of Israel. I have a feeling that this would not be easy.
Even if it were possible, such a war would be a grievous
thing. The immediate suffering it would cause is obvious.
But I am thinking also of the fact that although the Arabs
would gain some land, perhaps, and the refugees could re-
turn to what homes they have left, they would not put into
the country the hard and intelligent work that the Jews
have. And unless they did, all development would stop; the
land would deteriorate, barren plains and dry deserts would
appear where tree-planted fields and productive farms now
flourish. The loss would be not only to the people of Israel,,
but to the future development of the entire Middle East.
[34]
Israel: A Dedicated Land
All along the way as we drove from Amman, in Jordan, to
Jerusalem I began to feel the reality of the Bible story. The
road leads over the Moab Mountains to Jericho past the
place where John the Baptist baptized Christ in the Jordan,
and on to the Dead Sea, on whose barren and desolate
shores Lot's wife was turned into a pillar of salt. From Jeri-
cho the road winds upward almost four thousand feet to
Jerusalem, atop Judea.
Wandering about Jerusalem, I came to realize vividly
how truly it is the holy city of three great faiths Christian,
Hebrew and Moslem. One place seemed to me particularly
to symbolize this thought. In the Arab section of the city
stands the first really beautiful mosque I had seen the
Mosque of Omar, or more properly, the Dome of the Rock.
It is built on the site of Solomon's Temple, which was de-
stroyed by the Babylonians under Nebuchadnezzar, and one
section of its western wall is the Wailing Wall of the Jews.
Inside the mosque under its huge round dome is the rock
where Abraham is said to have taken Isaac to sacrifice. To
[35]
India and the Awakening East
the Moslems it is the Rock of the Ascension, the rock
from which Mohammed is supposed to have made his night
journey to heaven. Next to Mecca, it is their most sacred
shrine.
Then we walked along the Via Dolorosa, the crooked
narrow street through which Jesus is thought to have passed
on his way to Calvary. Plaques let into the walls of the
buildings mark the various stations of the Cross, the places
where he is said to have stumbled or rested, and at the end
of the Way is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built on
the supposed site of Jesus' tomb.
Everywhere I went in the Old City, I was deeply con-
scious of the hundreds and hundreds of years that had
passed, and I had a curious feeling that neither the people
nor the streets had changed much since the days of Christ.
Then abruptly I would be reminded of the present, and of
the Holy Land's stalemated war. There were, for instance,
the unused buildings of the Hebrew University and of the
Rothschild-Hadassah Medical Center on Mount Scopus.
The University was formally opened in 1925, and for about
a quarter of a century expanded rapidly. However, during the
fighting that broke out in Jerusalem between the Jews and
the Arabs even before the partition of Palestine went into
effect, the Jewish community there, cut off from Israel, was
forced to surrender in the Old City, though they managed
to hold out in the New City until Israeli relief forces arrived.
After the armistice was signed, the Old City, along with
[36]
Israel: A Dedicated Land
the other areas in Palestine held by the Arab Legion at the
conclusion of the fighting, was annexed by Jordan. Un-
fortunately the University on Mount Scopus is in the Old
City part of Jerusalem, so the Jews are now denied access
to their great center of learning.
Another reminder of the physical division of Jerusalem
came when, after attending a memorial service for King
George VI, we prepared to cross over into the New City.
For the Arab side and the Jewish side are separated by a
guarded barrier which stretches clear across the road. We
drove up to it promptly at noon, passage through having
been arranged before I left Paris. At exactly the minute
agreed upon the barrier was raised. Alighting from our car,
we walked through accompanied by Mr. Tyler, the Ameri-
can consul, who, though he lives on the Jewish side of
Jerusalem, is permitted to go back and forth.
To cross from the Arab lands into Israel was in one strik-
ing way a curious experience. Though one was still in a
country where many of the people were by religion Mos-
lems, Christians or Druses, the population was of course
predominantly Jewish. Naturally this fact is reflected in the
inake-up of the government, in the educational system and
in many other ways for instance, one cannot easily get a
taxi on Saturday; nevertheless I had no feeling here that re-
ligion was the controlling factor it was in the Arab coun-
tries I had visited. Israel is a secular state, a democracy.
Most of its people have come from countries of the Western
[37]
India and the Awakening East
world, and I felt more at home there, closer to the modern
life and Western attitudes I was familiar with, than in any
other country I visited.
These people are not daunted by Arab threats. Being
Jews, they have been spurned and persecuted in every coun-
try on earth, and they have learned to fight for their very
existence. Now that at last they have a small piece of land
of their own, it does not frighten them that they may be
called upon to defend it.
And it is a very small piece of land, in area even smaller
than the state of New Jersey. Pressed up against the Medi-
terranean, hemmed in on the north, east and south by Mos-
lem countries, it is about 260 miles long, about 5 miles wide
at its narrowest point, about 70 at its widest. Only the nar-
row coastal plain is well watered and fertile. In the semi-
desert of the Negev, the southern triangle of Israel, agri-
culture is difficult. Irrigation projects, drawing on the waters
of the Jordan, are gradually opening the northern Negev to
cultivation, but in the south only dry farming methods are
possible. Only by the most consecrated effort, the utiliza-
tion of every modern technique and a willingness to experi-
ment, can Israel support her own growing population, which
now amounts to some iK million. By no stretch of the
imagination, for this reason if for no other, can I envisage
the return of the 800,000 destitute refugees now in Arab
lands.
Nevertheless, the government has made an effort to treat
[38]
Israel: A Dedicated Land
fairly the Moslems who remained in Israel. In the Proclama-
tion of the State of Israel in 1948, they were bidden to "play
their part in the development of the State on the basis of
full and equal citizenship/' There is an Arab party which
is represented in the Knesset (the Israeli parliament); there
are public schools for Arabs as well as Hebrews, and school-
ing is compulsory. There is, of course, freedom of worship.
It is true, however, that the Israeli Nationality Bill, passed
shortly after I was there, confers automatic citizenship on
Jews only; most of the Arabs will have to go through a
lengthy naturalization process to achieve this status.
I spent six days in Israel where, as we had arranged, Miss
Corr and I were joined by Dr. David Gurewitsch. They
were days in which every minute was packed with activity.
This country teems with life and purpose. Everyone seems
to be engaged in one kind of project or another reforest-
ing the hillsides, draining the swamps, irrigating the land,
restoring its topsoil, building towns and roads, starting new
industries, training newly arrived immigrants. Under the
guidance of Mr. Michael Comay, an able and charming
young man from the Foreign Office, who had come to Israel
from South Africa, and his indefatigable assistant, Mr.
Gideon, who accompanied us everywhere, we were shown
a good number of the remarkable things that were being
done. Dr. Chaim Sheba, a delightful man and dedicated
public servant, who is establishing a health service through-
out Israel, was also with us on several trips.
[39]
India and the Awakening East
Particularly interesting to me always were the difficulties
that had been overcome. In northeast Israel, for example,
there is a lake named Bahr-el-Huleh, through which flow
the headwaters of the River Jordan. In draining the Huleh
swamps it was necessary to change the course of the river.
But no dirt from the river bed could be thrown up on its
eastern shore for that was Arab territory. In one place,
a few small parcels of Arab-owned land meant that instead
of cutting a straight channel for the flow of the river, it
was necessary to dredge a wide curve. All operations had
to be carried on from the Israeli side but it was done.
When I asked the engineer if it hadn't been a frustrating
experience, his answer was, "Without difficulties, it would
have been no fun/'
This was a point of view I found cropping up everywhere.
One of the factories I visited made pipe which was used to
carry water from the Jordan into the semiwasteland of the
Negev. The foreman of the plant is a redheaded young New
Englander, who has under him Jews with varying religious
customs, including a number of Yemenites. The kingdom
of Yemen is a little country south of Saudi Arabia on the
Red Sea coast. The Jews who came from there are par-
ticularly orthodox. For centuries they lived in the same way,
keeping apart from the rest of the population, clinging to
their old customs. They could not speak Hebrew when they
started arriving in Israel a few decades ago, and their only
tie with the other Jews there was their religion.
[40]
Israel: A Dedicated Land
This particular group, though skilled with their hands,
had never worked in a factory before, and for a while they
had a number of industrial accidents. One morning, the
young foreman told me, several of them waited upon him
and said, "These accidents occur because the Lord is dis-
pleased with us. We must make a sacrifice to the Lord at
the plant."
He did not wish to dampen their ardor, but meat sup-
plies are scarce in Israel, and in order to sacrifice a sheep,
as they desired, they would first have to get permission
from the food administrator to buy one. He helped them
draft the necessary letter, and in time an answer came back,
denying their request. In the meantime, however, the
Yemenites had been learning rapidly and accidents had
become rare. Therefore, when he imparted the sad news
that no sheep would be available, they answered, "The Lord
must have been satisfied with our intentions. He has already
relieved us of the burden of His displeasure."
All this must have seemed strange to a young Yankee
foreman, but he apparently has been infected by the en-
thusiasm of everyone around him. The problems of train-
ing and dealing with these people are to him simply part
of his job, a challenge that lends it spice. Pipes have to be
made; they have to be laid, and water must run through
them. No matter what the difficulties are, this is going to
be done.
The growing town of Beersheba at the head of the Negev
India and the Awakening East
affords another demonstration of how untrained immigrants
are gradually integrated into the Israeli life and economy.
The mayor of the town was originally a Czech, with a pas-
sion for building and an intuitive knowledge of how to help
people develop their abilities.
During their first year, the immigrants live in one-room
shacks and are put to work on the simplest kind of con-
struction. By the second year they have learned to use many
strange and complicated tools that they had never seen in
the country from which they came perhaps Morocco, or
Iran, or Yemen. They then move into a two-room house
with a garden, and are given work on bigger and more
elaborate buildings. The third year they are ready to live
wherever they want to, and with the skills they have acquired
can be given employment on large two- and three-storied
apartment houses.
Along with the housing construction, sites for new in-
dustries are being prepared. As the city expands, the indus-
tries will move in and absorb the labor now engaged in
building. Under the wise direction of the mayor, Beersheba
will in time become a modern, well-planned city.
Israel is determined to industrialize and is pushing its
program rapidly. At present its industries are for the most
part on a small scale, but it does have a great variety of the
so-called light manufactures especially processed foods,
textiles, clothing and so on, both for export and for home
consumption. However, the government has wisely en-
Israel: A Dedicated Land
couraged foreign investment by low tax rates and by per-
mitting the withdrawal abroad of a large percentage of the
profits. Consequently, there has been a considerable flow
of capital equipment for large industrial enterprises. Most of
this activity is concentrated in and around Haifa, where
Israel also has an important oil refinery. I visited a large
Kaiser-Frazer plant there which is operating almost entirely
for export to Scandinavia. The Alliance Tire and Rubber
Company, I am told, has opened a pilot plant in Hadera,
and I believe a number of other big American firms have
made good-sized investments.
Despite all its industrial expansion, Israel's economic
mainstay is still agriculture. Here, on the farms, in the
orchards and vineyards, people go at their tasks with the
same crusading zeal and imagination I found everywhere.
I was particularly interested in visiting Degania, one of
the older communal agricultural settlements, where I spent
the night. The land in this village was bought originally
by the Israel Development Corporation, a Zionist group.
All land, all property, is owned in common. The people
live together, eat together in a common dining room. The
community provides a school, and a nursery where the
babies and young children are cared for during the day
while their mothers are at work. No one receives any money
for his work; indeed he has no need of money, for the com-
munity supplies him with everything from pins and tooth-
paste to clothes, food and medical care. If money should be
[43]
India and the Awakening East
needed for a trip or vacation, the community supplies that
too.
This particular village had an extremely interesting nat-
ural history project The people had built a museum and
made a most comprehensive collection of the local flora and
fauna, which were now being used in valuable agricultural
and scientific studies. The head of the museum had made a
special study of the insects of the region and could tell you
exactly what species were to be found and where, the
season when they were most numerous, even the hours
when they were most active. His data had helped greatly in
eliminating malaria in this region.
This settlement had played a heroic part in the Arab-
Israeli War. The story was told me by Joseph Baratz,
a vigorous old man, well over sixty, who is the head of the
village. Telling it with great spirit, he seemed to be living
through it all over again. When he heard that the Syrian
army was moving in their direction, he said, he went to
David Ben Gurion, now Prime Minister of Israel, to get
aid. The villagers had no arms, of course, since under the
British mandate Jews were forbidden to own weapons. There
might have been a smuggled gun here and there, but cer-
tainly nothing with which they could oppose the Syrian
army. Mr. Baratz begged Ben Gurion for soldiers, or at
least weapons, but was told there were none available. He
was to go back to his people, Ben Gurion said, and to stay
with them; let them fight with their agricultural imple-
[44]
Israel: A Dedicated Land
ments. He went back and told his people they must die de-
fending their homes and their land. They dug a ditch, and
as the Syrian army approached across the plains south of
Lake Tiberias, the villagers prepared to oppose it as a living
wall. If the enemy broke through at this point, there would
be nothing to stop it from sweeping down the totally
unprotected valley.
Standing on the edge of the ditch he had helped to dig
four years before, Mr. Baratz continued with the story so
vividly I felt I could see the army coming. In the lead were
tanks. As the first one reached the very edge of the ditch, an
old man of sixty-odd rose up and threw a Molotov cock-
tail a crude, homemade bomb right into the tank. There
was an explosion; the tank stopped; and the army hesitated
and then began to retreat. Israel was saved from invasion at
this point by that one act of heroism. Luck? Perhaps in
party but also great faith, devotion and courage.
What is left of the tank still stands at the edge of the
ditch, a silent reminder and a monument.
It is clear that agricultural communities such as this one
are not merely economic projects to these people, but an
entire way of life, of living and working together. They ap-
parently take great hold of the young people who are cap-
tured by the communal idea, for though they may leave
for a few years to serve in the army or to try a different
kind of life, they usually return and want to stay. I am told
that they also have a special appeal for older people, for
[45]
India and the Awakening East
there is no question they offer complete security. People in
their middle years, however, are apt to prefer more inde-
pendence than the completely communal settlement, or the
Kibbutz as it is called, affords.
There are several other types of agricultural communities.
One is the co-operative. Here each person owns his own
land and lives his own private life, but buys all his neces-
sary equipment grain, tools, fertilizer or whatever and
sells his produce through a co-operative.
Another kind combines features of both the communal
settlement and the co-operative. Here, as I understand it,
the villagers own the land in common, and the marketing
and purchasing is done by the community as in the Kib-
butz. However, each family lives in its own home, and has
a small garden for its own use.
A good many of these communities, in addition to their
farming, run a small industry on the side perhaps a
creamery or a knitting mill or some kind of handicraft
project.
I should add that membership in any of these organiza-
tions is purely voluntary. About 60 per cent of the farm
population do belong to one or another of them by choice,
but the rest operate as independently as any farmer in the
United States.
The remarkable thing to me about Israel is its diversity,
its elasticity. A new small state, fighting a war for its very
life, remaking a land worn out by centuries of misuse, build-
[46]
At the home of Ambassador and Mrs. Minor in Beirut. Above left: Coffee made in
the Arab way. Right: Trying the Arab water pipe. Below: Visiting refugees at the
Dekwani camp.
Above: At the American school outside Beirut. Below: At refugee camps in Lebanon
the older boys are given vocational training to fit them for the future.
Above: Children at play, and a kindergarten class at camps in Lebanon where refu-
gees live in tents. Below: A fashion show is staged for Mrs. Roosevelt at the home
of Ambassador and Mrs. Minor.
Above: Mrs. Roosevelt signs
the book at the Presidency
in Damascus. With her are
Miss Corr, a police officer,
the Secretary at the Presi-
dency, and the American
Minister. Left: She is re-
ceived by the Secretary, Mr.
Abdullah Khani"
Throughout her trip Mrs. Roosevelt met and talked with members of the press]
Here she is shown with a representative group in Amman. Jordan.
Above: The engineer of the project explains to Mis. Roosevelt the draining of the
Huleh swamps at the border of Israel and Jordan. Below: Approaching the hospital
from Town Hall in Beersheba. With Mrs. Roosevelt are Dr. Mann, Julia Dushkin,
and an aide-de-camp, followed by a crowd of citizens.
Above left: Mrs. Roosevelt talking with Sheikh Suleiman and Colonel Michael
Hanegbi, Governor of the Beersheba area, who has been working for co-operation
between the Arabs and the Jews. Above right: A church maintained by the Fran-
ciscans in Nazareth. Below: Mrs. Roosevelt with her party in the basement of the
building, which is said to have been the kitchen of the Virgin Man-.
I Above: Arriving in Karachi, Mrs. Roosevelt inspects the guard of honor presented
f by the Pakistan Women's National Guard. Below: Begum Shahabuddin, President
1 of the All-Pakistan Women's Association, North-West Frontier Province, presents
J Mrs. Roosevelt with a chogha (long coat) and a golden garland.
Above left: Mrs. Roosevelt is introduced to the Maliks of the Tribal Jirgas in the
Khyber Pass. Above right: She examines the handmade pistol they presented to her.
Below left: The dopatta Mrs. Roosevelt is wearing was given to her by the Karachi
branch of the All-Pakistan Women's Association. Below right: A primary school at
Quaidabad, Karachi, for refugee children.
Israel: A Dedicated Land
ing industries where none ever existed, it has at the same
time absorbed and resettled hundreds of thousands of im-
migrants of widely different backgrounds, skills, educa-
tion and nationalities. To fuse all these it has had to im-
provise, to experiment, to adapt, to stretch here and tighten
there, in order to adjust the people to the country and the
country to the needs of the people.
There were even people who could do nothing for them-
selves. For example, a shipload of blind immigrants arrived
from Morocco. For them the government established a
special village, where, with the aid of the sighted mem-
bers of their families, they have been taught skills that
enable them to earn their own living. They work in the
gardens and in the auxiliary industry, and the products of
their labor are sold through a co-operative. The village,
which has a blind mayor, is so well organized that these
people lead a more nearly normal life than in any institu-
tion I have ever seen. Throughout the little settlement
there was an atmosphere of harmony and real happiness.
Even more remarkable to me were the children's villages,
many of them sponsored by Youth Aliyah. Here lived chil-
dren who in the past had suffered beyond belief. Many of
them had lost every member of their family and had wan-
dered desolate and unwanted for years. Others had come
from places like Morocco or other Moslem countries where
their living conditions had been nothing short of horrify-
ing. Now they are uniformly secure and happy. They have
[473
India and the Awakening East
good schools; they are loved and cared for by older people
who are training them to look after themselves, to grow
their own food and govern their own villages. Out of those
pitiful stunted waifs, to raise children who are healthy and
strong and imbued with a love for the land and their coun-
try this is perhaps Israel's most extraordinary achievement.
In its few years of statehood, this small republic has
faced a desperate financial crisis. In 1951 it applied for Point
Four aid, which it is now putting to good use. It also floated
a $500 million bond issue, with Ben Gurion traveling to
America in its support. The $71 5 million in reparations that
the Bonn government in Germany has agreed to pay will
help in its development program and in rehabilitating the
victims of Nazi aggression. Grants-in-aid from the U. S. and
a loan from the International Bank have also helped. Nev-
ertheless, the country is far from being out of the woods
yet. Much hinges on a peaceful solution to the Arab refugee
question. When all the great creative ability of Israel can
be freed from concern with armaments and defense and
directed toward its internal well-being, Arabs as well as
Jews will profit, and the world will have in the Middle
East its strongest bulwark against communism.
David Ben Gurion, Israel's Prime Minister, is a lion of
a man with a heart of gold. Even to his own co-workers he
is almost a legendary figure. They will tell you that the
man must never sleep. He reads everything; he knows ev-
erything; and yet he never seems tired. I do not know the
[48]
Israel: A Dedicated Land
secret of his vitality and strength whether it is his power
of quick recuperation or simply his absorption in his job
but Israel is indeed fortunate to have such a man to
pilot it through the troublous early days of its democracy.
This I do know: that in everyone from Ben Gurion down
to the most unimportant government official, the least
worker on the land or in the factory, I encountered a de-
termination and a sense of dedication that filled me with
confidence. So much spirit, so much resolve, cannot possibly
be without result; they must, sooner or later, make this
experiment a success.
[49]
As Pakistan Sees It
After our last busy day in Israel we got up before dawn
the next morning to take a plane from Lydda to Karachi, the
capital of Pakistan. There I was to be the guest of the All
Pakistan Women's Association which, with the co-operation
of the Pakistan government, had planned and arranged a
full and varied schedule for me. The original invitation had
been extended to me by the president of the Association,
the Begum Liaquat Ali Khan, when she was visiting the
United States with her husband, the late Prime Minister
of Pakistan, in 1950.
Here as earlier in Israel, and later in India, I saw a
country not only struggling with the problems that beset
any young government, but also suffering from the results
of the partition that had accompanied the achievement of
their long-sought independence. Geographically and eco-
nomically, if not religiously, India and Pakistan are a natural
unit, a vast, potentially rich peninsula stretching from the
snow- and ice-covered mountains of the Himalayas on the
north, southward to the Indian Ocean. The division of this
[50]
As Pakistan Sees It
subcontinent into two independent states, one predomi-
nantly Hindu, the other predominantly Moslem, was
economically painful to both parts. India, for example,
though retaining the majority of physical assets, lost much of
her best farm land. Pakistan had wheat enough and to spare
in good years, and a tremendous jute production 80 per
cent of the world's total but no jute mills. These were all
on India's side of the partition line. She was producing
about 200,000 tons of cotton a year, but she had few textile
mills. India, on the other hand, where cotton manufacturing
is the biggest industry, became largely dependent upon Pak-
istan for supplies. Pakistan, indeed, had very few industries
of any kind no tanneries, no woolen mills, for instance
almost no coal, very little oil. She had, to be sure, a huge
hydroelectric potential, but it was largely untapped. There
is an extensive irrigation system in Pakistan, where eight out
of every ten people depend on the land for a living, but she
lost to India and Kashmir control of the headwaters of the
rivers that fill her canals. Her only really good port was
Karachi; for Chittagong in East Pakistan had been sub-
jected to intense strain during the war and was badly in
need of repairs.
From the point of view of defense too, the subcontinent
is paying a terrible price for partition. The mountain ranges
guarding its northern border made undivided India a
single defense system. The Khyber Pass was one of the few
breaks through which invasion was possible. However, the
India and the Awakening East
Pass is so narrow and the territory so forbidding that it
used to be comparatively easy to defend. But the sword
of partition not only divided the land, cutting off crops
from markets and factories from raw materials, it also split
up everything from debts and revenues to rolling stock and
typewriters including, of course, the army. So today in-
stead of a single, strong, united army deployed to meet pos-
sible aggression from without, two lesser separate armies
must defend the frontiers of the subcontinent. And, instead
of facing outward, these two armies now face each other
across a line in Kashmir, over which India and Pakistan are
at odds.
The history of this quarrel is too involved to go into in de-
tail here. Briefly, what happened is this: under the plan by
which power was transferred from the British Raj to India
and Pakistan, most of the 565 princely states of India, which
had only a treaty relationship with the British Crown as
distinct from the provinces ruled directly by the British
acceded either to India or to Pakistan. But the Hindu
Maharajah of Kashmir delayed making any decision until
pushed into it by a large-scale invasion of tribesmen com-
ing mainly from Pakistan's North-West Frontier Province.
Then, though more than three-fourths of his people were
Moslems, he belatedly acceded to India. Pakistan on various
grounds disputed the accession; in December of 1947 at the
height of the crisis the quarrel was taken to the United Na-
tions, which so far has not been able to work out a solution
As Pakistan Sees It
acceptable to both sides. Under Dr. Frank P. Graham, the
United Nations mediator, both countries have agreed to a
plebiscite, but they cannot agree on the conditions under
which the plebiscite is to be held. Meanwhile bad feeling
has continued to mount as Indian and Pakistani troops face
each other across a cease-fire line in Kashmir.
As in the case of the Israeli-Arab dispute, bitterness and
fear of one's neighbor here at least partly engendered by
the quarrel over Kashmir has resulted in spending for de-
fense huge sums badly needed for health, housing, educa-
tional and other programs that would better the living
standards of the people.
Unhappy though some of the consequences of partition
may be, there is no question that by the time the British
left India, the strength of the Moslem demand for a separate
country of their own had made an independent Pakistan in-
evitable. In a sense, the rivalry between Hindus and Mos-
lems might be said to date back almost to the eighth
century, when the Arabs and Afghans began making small
raids into India. In the year 1001, Mahmud of Ghazni,
coming out of Afghanistan, crossed the Hindu Kush and
filed through the Khyber Pass to lead the first of the great
Moslem invasions. Until then, for thousands of years the
Hindus had dominated the subcontinent, and had developed
a highly advanced civilization and a rich culture; but for
seven centuries thereafter, the Moslems remained virtually
supreme.
[53]
India and the Awakening East
From the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries waves of
Moslem invaders continued to sweep in from the west, each
carving out a separate little kingdom. In the early sixteenth
century a Central Asian prince named Baber, a descendant
of Tamerlane and Genghis Khan, founded the great Mogul
empire which at its height controlled most of India and
lasted until the eighteenth century. Then weakened and
torn by incessant Hindu revolts, the empire fell apart, while
various European powers made haste to stake out their
own claims on the subcontinent. In this struggle England
emerged supreme and India came at last under the British.
During most of that period of Moslem rule, despite re-
ligious differences which made it impossible for the two
communities ever really to commingle, Moslem and Hindus
managed to exist side by side with at least some degree of
tolerance, if not in complete amity. With the coming of
the British, however, hostility and distrust between the two
religious groups began to increase. The Moslems at first
held aloof from the new overlords and were gradually re-
duced in importance, while the Hindus, so long suppressed,
were quick to take advantage of the educational opportu-
nities which contact with the West brought and to seek
jobs in the government civil service and in the offices of
English businessmen. In time, the Hindus became the more
important, as they had always been the more numerous,
community, and the Moslems began to resent what they felt
was the favoritism showed them by the British. Bit by bit the
[54]
As Pakistan Sees It
English found it expedient to grant the Indians some
measure of self-government, and growing Indian national
aspirations found political voice in the National Congress
Party which nominally represented all communities. But
the Moslems became increasingly distrustful of Hindu ambi-
tions and in 1906 as a counterweight to the Congress Party
founded the National Moslem League.
Many steps the British took in governing served only to
widen the breach now clearly formed. In 1909, for instance,
as part of a plan to increase further Indian participation in
the government, they introduced a system of separate elec-
torates for Hindus and Moslems, together with a device
called weightage, which gave the Moslems more than their
proportional number of seats. This meant that hereafter all
voting was along religious lines. As hopes for independence
grew firmer, the struggle between Hindus and Moslems for
political power grew more bitter and more frightening. In-
creasingly it was accompanied by widespread and violent
riots and reprisals for riots in which shops were looted,
homes destroyed and people killed literally by the tens of
thousands. Always it had been easy enough to touch off a
communal disturbance. A Hindu band had only to parade
past a mosque on a Moslem festival day; a Moslem had only
to kick a cow, sacred to the Hindus, and tempers would
flare. A melee of fists, stones, and sticks could turn quickly
into a full-scale riot that often spread way beyond the con-
fines of the village where it started.
[55]
India and the Awakening East
By the time Lord Mountbatten arrived in India to work
out a plan for independence, the strength of Hindu-Moslem
hostility, the extent of communal violence and the intransi-
gence of the Moslem leaders' demands who warned they
would never remain in a union in which Hindus were in the
majority made it clear that the choice was between Paki-
stan and civil war. Reluctantly the Congress Party leaders
agreed to partition, for though they had hoped for a united
India, they did not want it at the price of chaos. Thus
it was that on August 15, 1947, India and Pakistan became
separate autonomous dominions within the framework of
the British Commonwealth.*
For Pakistan, this division of the subcontinent had an
added complication. Not only was Pakistan itself separated
from India, but its western portion (comprising the former
provinces of Sind, Baluchistan, the North- West Frontier
Province and the western part of the Punjab) was separated
from its eastern portion (East Bengal and part of Assam)
by some eight hundred miles of Indian territory. Neither
was it a clean cut, for no matter how the partition lines were
drawn, millions of Hindus and Sikhs still were left in Mos-
lem territory, and millions of Moslems in the areas that went
to India.
I have summarized the situation at this length and, at
that, far too sketchily simply because it is against the back-
* India became a sovereign democratic republic in January, 1950, but
elected to remain a member of a Commonwealth of Nations (the word
British being omitted).
[56]
As Pakistan Sees It
ground of these facts that we Americans must view the
problems of Pakistan and India today if we are to under-
stand the conditions that exist there and the importance
of intelligent and effective help.
Karachi, on Pakistan's Arabian seacoast, was my intro-
duction to this colorful part of the East, and an overwhelm-
ing experience it was. When I stepped off the plane I was
greeted by crowds of officials beyond whom I glimpsed a sea
of women. Other women in the uniforms of the various
military groups of the All Pakistan Women's Association
lined up to welcome me and hung around my neck wreaths
of flowers and long chains of gold tinsel that ended in large,
heart-shaped pendants. They were charming, but when
you get enough of them around your neck they are rather
warm and heavy.
While all this was going on, I could see out of the corner
of my eye a rather extraordinary double-decker arrangement
a two-tiered stand mounted on wheels. Each tier was
covered by a beautiful rug; on the lower tier was a micro-
phone; on the upper one, swaying wildly in the strong wind,
was a brilliant umbrella. Harnessed to the whole contrap-
tion were three camels. After I had inspected the military
and shaken innumerable hands the Begum Husain Malik,
my official hostess, asked me to step up on this affair. To my
horror as I mounted the first level, and then with some trepi-
dation the second, I heard someone remark: "I hope nothing
frightens the camels or they may run away. 7 '
While I stood there feeling decidedly insecure, the Be-
[57]
India and the Awakening East
gum* read an address of welcome and delivered a message
from her father, Mohammed Ghulam, the Governor Gen-
eral of Pakistan, who was not able to be there, and then
asked me to respond. I did the best I could and hoped that
now I would be permitted to leave the stand. But not at all.
I was asked to hold a press conference there. This really
worried me, because as I saw the reporters gathering around
below me I could not help wondering about the camels.
Also I was still very deaf from the plane trip; the wind was
blowing and I was sure I would miss most of the questions.
Luckily, the press conference lasted only about three
minutes, and very few questions were asked.
Finally I was allowed to climb down and was ushered
into an open car. I sat back comfortably, thinking: "Now
I can enjoy the drive to wherever we are going and get my
first glimpse of the streets of an Eastern city." I was wrong
again. As we emerged from the air field the road for half a
mile was lined solidly on both sides with camel-drawn ve-
hicles filled with children of different ages. All were waving
American and Pakistani flags and all were shouting a wel-
come: "Pakistan zfndabad! Mrs. Roosevelt zindabad!"
(Long live Pakistan! Long live Mrs. Roosevelt!) I tried to
bow to both sides at the same time, but that half-mile
seemed to me one of the longest half-miles I have ever
traveled. I know now how my husband used to feel on our
* The Mohammedan title for a princess or otherwise distinguished
woman.
[58]
As Pakistan Sees It
drives through cities at home when I would keep urging
him to bow to both sides at once.
We finally left the camel carts behind and drove through
the crowded streets of Karachi toward the Governor Gen-
eral's house. It was a scene rich in color and contrast, swarm-
ing with people dressed in brilliant hues, with animals of
every variety oxen, donkeys, camels, wandering freely or
plodding along heavily laden; with vehicles of all kinds
oxcarts, rickshaws drawn by men on bicycles, and shiny
modern automobiles. But the houses, public buildings and
wide avenues gave one a sense of space and dignity. The
Governor General's house is set in a beautiful enclosed
garden that is almost a park, which we entered through a
wide gate. The house is encircled by roofed, open verandas,
and the rooms within are spacious and high-ceilinged. Here
I had my first encounter with the perfect service of the
British-trained Indian servants. They are almost invariably
men. I didn't see a woman servant throughout my stay at
the Governor General's house. Men care for your room and
make your bed. Men serve your meals and take your dresses
to be pressed. Apparently the purdah restriction which bids
women conceal their faces from all men except members of
their own families does not apply to servants, for the ladies
I met who observed purdah paid no attention to the
presence of servants nor even, I noticed, to photographers.
The man in charge of the boys who waited on us at the
Governor General's told me he had taken care of my son,
[59]
India and the Awakening East
James, when he stayed there during the war. That was before
we had gotten into it, and my husband had sent James and
another Marine officer on a trip around the world to observe
and report on conditions.
Karachi was once a little fishing village, and as we flew
in that morning I realized it was built practically on the
sandy beach that seems to extend for miles around. During
the last war it was an important port of supply for the armed
forces stationed in India. When Pakistan became indepen-
dent Karachi was made the capital of the country, though
it did not then have the facilities in the way of buildings
and accommodations that Lahore in the Punjab offered. But
the Punjab was one of the provinces that during the parti-
tion process was divided into its predominantly Moslem and
non-Moslem parts and the final line of division left the
ancient Mogul city of Lahore, in what then became part of
Pakistan, very close to the border. Unfortunately the bitter-
ness existing between the two countries made it impossible
for Pakistan to think of establishing its capital in such close
proximity to India. Karachi, as the second largest city, with
a good port, was the next obvious choice.
Some of the officials with whom I talked described to me
the difficulties of those early days of independence, when
they were trying to get the government set up and working.
Under the partition plan, partition committees had been
appointed to arrange the division of assets plants, fixtures,
office furniture, equipment of all kinds between Pakistan
[60]
As Pakistan Sees It
and India, but at first the Pakistani officials found them-
selves living and working in practically bare buildings and
hastily erected hutments, with completely inadequate equip-
ment. They had no desks, no pencils, no typewriters, no
paper, few telephones. They sat on packing boxes, wrote on
packing boxes, and occasionally made them into beds at
night. There were no files, no statistics. Karachi was un-
prepared to quarter the sudden influx of officials and govern-
ment workers of all kinds, and there simply were not enough
houses, apartments or even rooms to go around. Important
government officials and their entire families sometimes had
to live in one room for a considerable period.
There was also a serious personnel problem. Owing to the
rioting that accompanied partition, train service between
the two dominions was cut off and hundreds of Pakistani
officials were temporarily stranded in India. There was
and still is in any case a grave lack of the kind of trained
personnel without which it is almost impossible to carry on
the business of government. Under the British, as I have ex-
plained, it was the Hindus for the most part rather than the
Moslems who went into the Indian Civil Service. Conse-
quently after partition Pakistan had nowhere near enough
people with administrative experience. A number of the
members of her first cabinet had never before held office.
Neither were there bookkeepers or stenographers or clerks.
There were and are of course some exceedingly able people
India and the Awakening East
at the top who managed to get the government running;
and many young people are now being trained intensively
in various civil service jobs. Here the Ford Foundation is
giving invaluable help, in India as well as in Pakistan; this
is, I think, one of the most important of their many and
diverse projects. But such training takes time, and in the
meanwhile many of the top people in Pakistan are killing
themselves with details that should be in the hands of
trained civil service people.
The morning after my arrival I made an appointment to
call on the sister of one of the two men who had been most
instrumental in winning and launching the new state of
Pakistan, Miss Fatima Jinnah. These two men, Mohammed
Ali Jinnah, who founded the state, and Liaquat AH Khan,
who guided it so well during its early years, had become
upon independence its first Governor General and Prime
Minister.
Miss Jinnah was a dental surgeon by profession, but on
the death of her brother's wife, a Parsee woman, in 1929,
she became his constant companion, accompanying him on
his tours, sitting on platforms at political meetings and, it
it said, exercising considerable influence with him. Un-
fortunately, she was not well when I was there and wrote
to my hostess, the Begum Husain Malik, that she would be
unable to see me. Before leaving Karachi, I sent her a note
and received the following reply:
[62]
As Pakistan Sees It
Dear Mrs. Roosevelt:
I thank you for your letter dated 23rd February, which was
delivered to me on the 26th. I am addressing this letter to you
to the care of your country's embassy at New Delhi.
Thank you for your inquiries about my health. I regret I was
not able to see you during your visit to Pakistan and fully recip-
rocate your desire to have the pleasure of meeting you someday.
Yours sincerely,
(signed) Fatima Jinnah
(Miss Fatima Jinnah)
Incidentally, I heard while I was there that an English
writer, Hector Bolitho, whom the government had asked to
come to Pakistan to write the life of Jinnah, had not been
able to get Miss Jinnah to let him look at any of her
brother's papers which are in her possession and which of
course contain the basic material for a biography. This
seems a pity, for the story of this strange, difficult, brilliant
man should be written.
However if I could not see Miss Jinnah I did to my great
pleasure see something of another remarkable woman, the
Begum Liaquat Ali Khan. The assassination of her husband
in October, 1951, shocked the world and was a cruel loss to
his country, for he was a statesman of the first rank by any
standards, moderate, firm and reasonable, and he had led a
middle-of-the-road government.
I first met him and his wife in Paris at a meeting of the
General Assembly and thought them interesting and delight-
[63]
India and the Awakening East
ful people, so I was now very glad to have a chance to renew
my acquaintance with the Begum. She had not been able to
meet me at the airport, for the period of mourning pre-
scribed for a widow by Moslem custom was not yet over
for her.
I found the Begum even more charming than I had re-
membered, a very interesting and lovely woman, whose
two sons were with her almost constantly each time I
visited her. The elder boy, a lad in his early teens, was very
keen on photography and took some photographs of us all
in her drawing room, and joined the press photographers
whenever they were permitted to take pictures of his mother.
The younger boy, who was about eight, was always at his
brother's side and took great pride in being allowed to carry
his paraphernalia. It was delightful to see such alert and
interested youngsters.
During her husband's lifetime the Begum had worked
closely with him, sharing his plans and hopes for the
country. Together they had considered ways of raising health
standards, of making more and better education available
to more people, of developing improved farming methods,
of starting the new industries Pakistan so sorely needs. She
had been devoted to her husband and had admired him
greatly both as a man and a statesman. Now she feels she
must try as far as possible to further his program and still
hopes to have a part in bringing some of his plans to fruition.
When he was alive she, of course, had through him consider-
As Pakistan Sees It
able influence, but now her own personality and actions
have earned for her a fine standing in her own right.
It is because of her leadership and the example set by her
and others like my hostess, the Begum Husain Malik, that
the women of Pakistan have begun to free themselves of
the restrictions imposed by tradition, to come out of purdah
and to make a determined effort to be of use to their country
in this period of its troubled beginning.
My hostess was a younger woman than the Begum Li-
aquat Ali Khan, and I think had been inspired by her to
take an active part in public life. A lovely-looking person,
and the mother of two small and charming children, she
was always beautifully dressed in the costume of the Paki-
stani women full trousers, tight at the ankles, with a long
overblouse reaching almost to the knees, held in by a cord
at the waist. She is really a remarkable woman, very much
of a person in her own right, with great executive ability, tact
and skill. She traveled with us everywhere we went in Paki-
stan, a most kind and delightful hostess, from the day she
met us on our arrival to the day she saw us off at the airport
in Lahore. It is still a mystery to me how she manages to ful-
fill her many duties, bring up her children so well, help both
her husband and father and yet find time for her own out-
side work. Fm sure her children must have been glad when
our visit was over and they could again claim some of their
mother's time.
The principal instrument through which these women are
[65]
India and the Awakening East
doing really magnificent work is the All Pakistan Women's
Association to which most of the enlightened and active
women in the country belong. This association has organized
and made itself responsible for a wide variety of social service
activities. It has set up clinics for medical care, established
educational centers, arranged recreation programs for chil-
dren. Through its efforts information about new and im-
proved methods of agriculture is made widely available. It
also encourages the development of various skills and crafts,
such as weaving and glass blowing, among the people in the
villages; in particular it has revived the ancient art of em-
broidery, not only teaching it, but setting up shops manned
by volunteers where the women can sell their needlework.
At Sibi in the province of Baluchistan I saw an exhibit of
this work, much of it so exquisite and so fine that I should
think it would be extremely hard on the eyes. The rich vivid
colors the women use are very striking; we might think them
too bright, but they seem peculiarly right in that setting.
Two or three women, sitting on the ground, were demon-
strating the different types of sewing they do. I was im-
pressed by the speed at which they worked under what
would be for most of us rather difficult circumstances. One
woman, I remember, held a baby on her lap, which she
nursed as she continued with her work.
One of the projects the Association is backing, which was
achieved largely through the efforts and foresight of the
Begum Liaquat Ali Khan, is a College of Home Economics
[66]
As Pakistan Sees It
in Karachi. It will be part of a polytechnic institute made
possible by a $1,600,000 grant from the Ford Foundation.
Here young women will be taught how to plan their homes
for greater comfort and health, and will learn the basic,
practical rules of diet, baby and child care, hygiene and
health. Others will be trained for various careers, as die-
ticians, home demonstration agents, decorators and so on.
With the Begum Liaquat Ali Khan I attended the laying
of the cornerstone of this new school which she hopes will
in time bring a great change into the lives of the women
of Pakistan, and through them into the lives of families
throughout the country.
Another project that interested me greatly was a home
for the rehabilitation of delinquent boys, where they are
given both medical care and vocational training. It is very
small as yet there were probably no more than a dozen
boys in it when I was there but it is important because it
is the first effort that has ever been made in Pakistan to treat
delinquents in an organized institution.
All such programs as these, aimed at making life better
for the masses of people, are at present largely a matter of
private charity and personal social service. In time, however,
I am sure they will come, as we have, to think in terms of
what government itself should provide for all the people.
Meanwhile the women of the country through the All
Pakistan Women's Association are doing a wonderful job.
While I was in Karachi the Association held a forum for
India and the Awakening East
my benefit with the Begum Liaquat Ali Khan presiding.
One speaker after another discussed the various aspects of
a Moslem woman's life: her traditional role, her present-day
status under the law, her educational opportunities, the po-
sitions in business and the professions now open to her.
It is true that rules for everything that affects a Moslem's
existence from religious observance to the conduct of
national affairs to details of family life are laid down in
the Koran, the sacred book of Islam. It is also true that
historically women have held an inferior position in the
Moslem world, and by the teaching of the Koran are lesser
beings. Nevertheless, under the Koran a woman's inheritance
rights are guarded and her rights in marriage defined and
protected. For example a woman's father may make arrange-
ments with her future husband for a specific sum to be
settled on her in case of divorce; and if she is divorced, or
if her husband dies, she is free to marry again. Moreover,
though Moslem law permits a man to have four wives, it
stipulates that he may not favor one at the expense of the
others. (I gathered from the Moslem ladies to whom I
talked that a trend toward monogamy was definitely in-
dicated, since, under present conditions it was going to be
increasingly difficult to persuade four women that they were
all being treated equally well.)
It also seemed curious to me, considering how closely the
custom of purdah is associated with the Moslem world and
how completely the mores of that world are dictated by the
[68]
As Pakistan Sees It
Koran, that the Koran itself nowhere contains any mention
of purdah. The practice of secluding women apparently grew
up in medieval times, fitting without too much difficulty
into an existing social structure in which women had, in any
case, unequal status. Most enlightened Moslem leaders
today recognize it as a barbarous anachronism. Jinnah con-
demned it unequivocally.
It is too old a custom to disappear wholly overnight, but
under the stimulus of the example provided by women like
my hostess, Miss Jinnah, the Begum Liaquat Ali Khan and
others, more and more women are beginning to take ad-
vantage of the opportunities that are now open to them.
For they are not being asked simply to give up purdah, and
offered nothing to put in its place. They are being encour-
aged to come out of purdah and to take an active part in the
life of the world. It has been said that, indirectly, through
their menf oiks, Moslem women have always wielded a great
deal of power. Now they are being encouraged and enabled
to make their influence felt directly, on their own account.
For example, until recently only about i % per cent of the
Moslem women could read and write. Pakistan's new long-
range educational program includes plans for over six
thousand primary, middle and high schools as well as a
number of teachers* training schools and colleges. The gov-
ernment is also making provision for technical institutes and
research laboratories, for scientific and technical scholar-
ships for training abroad. These will be open to girls as well
[69]
India and the Awakening East
as boys, women as well as men. Already co-education is being
accepted in the universities, where young men and women
are given training in the same subjects, often in the same
classrooms.
Women may now enter any profession and more and
more of them are beginning to take advantage of this. Par-
ticularly, I was told, they are going into medicine. However
it is very difficult to persuade any of them to go into nursing,
which is most unfortunate, since there is a serious shortage
of trained nurses in the country. Their reluctance is un-
doubtedly a holdover from the old idea of purdah, which
forbade a woman to have any contact with men outside her
own or her husband's family. Even though they may not
observe purdah, they apparently feel that this is stretching
their new freedom too far, that the men would not approve
and would not consider them acceptable as wives.
I understand the reason for their feeling; nevertheless I
kept finding myself protesting before groups of both men
and women that far from lessening a woman's chances for
marriage, a nurse's skills and training should make her much
more valuable both as a wife and mother, for they would
enable her to care for her family much more efficiently. I
even told them what it had meant to me to have the train-
ing that a St. Luke's hospital nurse, Miss Lucy Spring, gave
me. She spent many months with me when my children
were babies, and saw them through various illnesses. I
learned a great deal from her about the care of children and
[703
As Pakistan Sees It
through her teaching became in time a very fair nurse with
a sound knowledge of what hospital cleanliness meant. I
was never more grateful for this training than when my
husband was stricken with infantile paralysis on a little
island off the Maine coast, where we could get no nurse. If
I had not been competent to handle the situation, my hus-
band's illness might well have been graver, and the danger
to the rest of the family might have been more serious.
As far as the present nursing shortage goes, I do not know
how much good all my talking and explaining did, but I am
confident that necessity and the circumstances of modern
life will in time work a change in their attitude.
Women in Pakistan have the franchise, another affirma-
tion of equality of which they are very proud, and they are
being encouraged to take on political responsibilities. As yet,
however, many of them are shy about assuming their rights
I think perhaps because they honestly feel they are not
quite ready, that this is too great an innovation and that
they are moving too fast. So again in my talks before
women's groups, I found myself constantly urging them to
seize their opportunities. I told them about the League of
Women Voters in our country, explaining the work they do
here, and expressed my hope that similar groups will spring
up in other countries where women have been given the
vote.
While the emancipation of women is without question
one of the really great changes that have come about in this
[71]
India and the Awakening East
Moslem country, there are signs, too, that old customs and
old ways of thinking are not going to be swept away all at
once. In the hospitals, for example, the women's section is
still served by women doctors. Some breaking down of the
barrier is suggested, however, by the fact that on several
of our tours of inspection, men doctors accompanied us to
the doors of the women's ward!
In the streets one still sees veiled women, though I was
told they are becoming fewer and fewer. Usually the veils
are thin and light, but I saw some women in burkas, long,
flowing, capelike robes that enveloped them from head to
foot, with only small openings for the eyes. Occasionally I
noticed a number of women clad in these heavy, warm gar-
ments, piling with their children into a rickshaw or pony
cart, and a curtain drawn all around them. They must have
been unspeakably hot.
The greatest change in the position of women has occurred
of course in the classes where there is a greater degree of
education. Yet many women of the upper classes, particu-
larly of the older generation, whose husbands are prominent
in the government or in business, are apparently reluctant to
give up their secluded and protected life. My first evening in
Karachi I was invited to dinner at the home of Khwaja
Nazimudden, the Prime Minister of Pakistan,* to meet some
of the Cabinet members and their wives. After introducing
* Replaced in April 1953 by Mohammed Ali, former Ambassador to the
United States.
As Pakistan Sees It
me to the various guests, the Prime Minister asked me to
go upstairs with him to meet his wife. She, it seems, still
observes purdah and so could not be present at a party
attended by both men and women.
I found that she spoke very little English, so conversation
was slightly strained and limited to my inquiries about her
health and the health of her family, an expression of my
pleasure in visiting Pakistan and my hope that I would see
her again before I left. Her husband explained that she had
been studying English, and had been getting on very well
but had suddenly stopped her lessons because she was afraid
that if she became proficient he would insist on her going
to mixed gatherings.
Later, in Lahore, I called on the family of Sir Zafrullah
Khan, Pakistan's Foreign Minister, and a man I admire
greatly. Unfortunately he was away at the time, visiting
Turkey and Egypt and other Moslem-Arab countries, but I
did meet his wife and daughter. Lady Zafrullah Khan, an
enthusiastic gardener, incidentally, is, like the wife of the
Prime Minister, in purdah, and speaks no English. The
daughter, however, has broken with tradition, and told me
she hoped to come to the United States the following year.
While I was in Lahore I attended a large evening purdah
party and at supper sat between two very sweet and gentle
ladies who were more or less my contemporaries in age. I
discovered, however, that they had pioneered in the cause of
women's rights, displaying the same kind of courage our own
[73]
India and the Awakening East
early suffragettes showed. One of them told me: "I was the
first woman in Bombay to take the arm of a British gentle-
man and go in to dinner unveiled. My family didn't speak to
me for a year until my husband made my peace for me/'
The other woman had similarly suffered ostracism and dis-
grace for going without a veil, mixing with her husband's
friends and daring to talk to Englishmen.
Together we marveled at the change that had taken place
since then, commenting on how quickly, once the pioneers
have opened up the way, the next generation can take ad-
vantage of what has been done and move ahead.
I myself have often observed that my children's generation
seems hardly conscious of the fact that there ever was a time
when women had to fight to obtain the right to vote and
to secure various other freedoms we now enjoy in the United
States. Even where they are aware of it, they do not really
understand. Having always had the advantages the pioneers
had struggled for, they are oblivious of the past. To see the
same thing happening in Pakistan was very interesting
to me.
After supper some of the younger women put on an ex-
hibition of folk dancing, and then I asked for some Pakistani
folk songs. These are sad and plaintive little tunes, sung in
a peculiar tone that reminded me of our mountain ballad
singers. Later I asked the dancers if they would like to learn
an American folk dance that had come to us from England
and that was still very popular. They were immediately in-
[74]
As Pakistan Sees It
terested, and so to Pakistani music I taught them the Vir-
ginia Reel. This was rather fun, for they were remarkably
quick pupils and went through it the first time without a
mistake.
As an aside, I might observe that the various purdah
parties I went to belied the notion that women dress only
for men. At least it is not true in that part of the world, for
at all of the parties the women were most carefully and
beautifully dressed and it was quite evident that they noticed
each other's costumes.
A great motivating force behind the emergence of the
women of Pakistan a major reason their emancipation has
progressed so much more rapidly and so much further than
in the Arab-Moslem countries is the situation brought
about by partition and the consequent refugee problem.
The need was urgent and immediate and the women rose
to it.
I had heard a good deal about the tremendous number of
refugees in Pakistan and India Moslems who had fled
India and Hindus and Sikhs who had fled Moslem territory
when the partition occurred but the extent of this desper-
ate mass migration and its tragic consequences simply can-
not be comprehended until one sees something of the
evidence with one's own eyes. It is known that altogether
some twelve million persons were involved in the upheaval.
For two untried governments, in the first days of life, a
population transfer of this size created a catastrophic situa-
[75]
India and the Awakening East
tion. The long-range problem for both countries was not
the temporary care of the refugees, but how to dispose them
permanently and get them started in life again. Many of
them were farmers or had other usable skills, but to get them
back to their old trades or to fit them into new ones and
find them permanent homes was a tremendous job.
When I was there, four and a half years later, Pakistan had
made remarkable headway in absorbing and resettling her
destitute millions, though perhaps not so much as India,
whose resources are greater. Incidentally, neither India nor
Pakistan has ever asked for outside help in caring for these
people.
Nevertheless, in spite of all that has been accomplished,
there are still thousands and thousands wholly dependent
on the government, penned in camps or living with no roof
at all over their heads. In parts of Karachi and other cities
I saw people, a barber or a cobbler perhaps, working in tiny
temporary shops mere cubbyholes that they had been
permitted to set up along the sidewalks, or even plying their
trade on the sidewalk itself. Men and beasts were crowded
together in dirty temporary shelters, which must have been
unbearable in the wet season. That there had been no
devastating epidemics speaks well for the cleanliness of the
women or for the immunity to germs that people have
built up.
Even without large-scale epidemics, illness, malnutrition
and bad sanitary conditions have filled the hospitals to
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As Pakistan Sees It
overflowing. Infection at childbirth is frequent. I recall see-
ing one young woman, still in her early twenties, who the
doctor told me had had six children, with accompanying in-
fection each time. Now she had serious heart trouble and
was lying there, her body half-raised, fighting for breath.
One of the refugee settlements I visited was fortunate in
having a small health station to which a woman doctor came
regularly to deliver babies and care for them and their
mothers through the first few days. Here they were also
preparing and distributing to the children milk furnished
by UNICEF (United Nations International Children's
Emergency Fund). I marveled at the difficulties the doc-
tor and her attendants had to cope with. For instance, there
was no electricity at night, so when a patient was brought
in late they had to work by lamplight. The amount of
improvisation and their efforts to find ways to do what
should be done without any of the materials we would con-
sider necessary were a tribute to their ingenuity and their
willingness to work long and hard to make things better for
the wretched people around them.
Pakistan must for some years give priority in her ex-
penditures to increasing her agricultural production, setting
up new industries and developing the power to run them.
With so many problems, medical and housing needs have
not yet been adequately met. Nevertheless, she is making
provision for new residential areas and townships, for
satellite villages and rehabilitation colonies for refugees.
India and the Awakening East
Wherever new building projects are actually under way, in
every instance they include plans for a hospital.
I was taken to visit one of these government housing
projects near Peshawar and shown the plans for the hospital,
the schools, the public administration building and various
types of houses. I was interested to observe that though the
new homes were of modern and convenient design, they still
had the same mud-brick walls as the older houses.
In all, during the next few years, Pakistan is providing for
120 new hospitals, as well as 600 village dispensaries and a
further 600 mobile dispensaries.
Before I left Pakistan I had several opportunities to talk
with the various men in the government who were in charge
of these and other plans for the country's development. Dur-
ing a visit to Lahore I had the pleasure of meeting Moham-
med Ghulam, the Governor General and my hostess' father.
A tall man of great dignity, he had recently been ill and as
a result moved slowly and spoke with some difficulty. Never-
theless, during the course of our long conversation it became
very evident to me how close to his heart were the problems
of his country and how clear his grasp of them. Through
him and the Prime Minister, Khwaja Nazimudden, and
other members of the government I gained, I think, a very
fair over-all picture of their hopes for the future of Pakistan
and the measures they are taking to raise the standard of liv-
ing. It seems to me that they are disproving the skeptics who
doubted whether Pakistan could ever be a viable state. There
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As Pakistan Sees It
is great ability and energy in the country; people have
worked hard and are moving ahead rapidly, and using to
advantage their internal resources and whatever outside help
and capital come in.
Like all the Middle Eastern and Asian countries, Pakistan
has been terribly handicapped by her lack of technical ex-
perts, people qualified to draw up, appraise and carry out the
necessary development programs. To meet this need, the
Pakistan government, the United Nations Food and Agri-
cultural Organization, the U.N. Economic Commission for
Asia and the Far East, and the International Bank have
wisely collaborated to set up in Pakistan a center where this
kind of training is available. Meant for the benefit of all
the Asian countries, it seems to me to represent the best
kind of international thinking and co-operation.
Knowing that Pakistan would always be first of all an
agricultural country, the government has made its main ob-
ject the increased production of food stuffs putting special
emphasis on those that could be grown for sale, like fruits,
oil seeds and sugar cane and other important crops. With
five great rivers flowing through the country, and with the
advantage of having incorporated through partition the
fertile lands of East Bengal and the West Punjab, her chief
problem, aside from further irrigation, has been to improve
methods of cultivation, to supply better seeds and fertilizers
and to make more use of modern agricultural machinery.
Pakistan's own efforts have been supplemented by Point
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India and the Awakening East
Four aid and help from the Ford Foundation. When I was
in Karachi, Mr. Avra Warren, our Ambassador to Pakistan,
gave a dinner at the Embassy and afterward arranged for
me to talk to Harry Knaus, our Point Four Regional Director
there, who had just come from India. He was most opti-
mistic about what Point Four could do in Pakistan and
told me he was setting up four or five agricultural demon-
stration centers which eventually would help the farmers to
increase their yield. Last July it was announced that under
an expanded Point Four program over $20 million had been
allotted to Pakistan foi/a rural agricultural and industrial
program, designed to improve not only crop production, but
such things as livestock and village industries.
The biggest boost to increased production will come from
Pakistan's major irrigation schemes. We visited one of
these, the Kotri Barrage, which is being built across the
Indus River about one hundred miles from its mouth. It is
one of the greatest irrigation projects in the world, with
forty-four spans of sixty feet each. It is designed to control
the Indus floods, and the water will be fed off to irrigate an
area of nearly 3 million acres. They told me this will enable
them to raise their crop production from the present 170,000
tons to 750,000.
We lunched that day in a tent right where the work was
going on and then drove around to see the Barrage from all
sides. It looked to me very like our own big river dams and
development projects, and eventually, like the TVA^ it will
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As Pakistan Sees It
work an enormous change for the better in the lives of the
people in the area. Five hundred miles away in the West
Punjab another irrigation scheme is in the blueprint stage.
Here 1,800 tube wells are to be dug. These, to be worked by
electricity from the new hydroelectric plant at Rasul, will
irrigate an additional 700,000 acres and help to drain the
waterlogged areas nearby. Still another, the Thai Project in
the Punjab, is near completion.
Some of the bridges and dams they are building have pre-
sented special problems, which occasionally were solved in
an unusual way. I remember one bridge in particular, which
they said had been extremely difficult to build because the
flood waters had again and again carried away one pier. The
engineer was in despair when one night he dreamed the pier
should be in the shape of a woman's foot. Accordingly he
built it that way and today, if you peer into the water, you
can see it there, firmly planted on the bottom. No flood
has ever budged it, which would seem to indicate that when
a woman puts her foot down, she is determined.
Early next year Pakistan hopes to start work on an ir-
rigation project in East Bengal, using the waters of the
Ganges. Through a system of pumps and canals, they hope to
bring 2 million acres under irrigation and make it possible
to have a second rice crop in the dry season. East Bengal
engineers and a number of engineers from the United Na-
tions are now at work on the final plans.
These are all ambitious undertakings, not only in terms
India and the Awakening East
of benefit to the country, but from the point of view of con-
struction and the amount of money being invested in them.
Consequently I was a little troubled when I studied the
map later and realized that Pakistan has no control over the
headstreams of the rivers on which such vast projects are
going forward. The Indus, the Chenab and the Jhelum
flow into Pakistan from Kashmir; the Sutlej and the Ravi
come in from the East Punjab, now an Indian state. I
couldn't help feeling that this put Pakistan in a rather vul-
nerable position.
The flow of water has, in fact, been a source of friction
between the two countries from the beginning. On parti-
tion, India gained with the East Punjab only three of the
original sixteen canal systems. This is an area in which ex-
tensive irrigation is essential, for millions of refugees poured
in here and they depend on the land for a living. Pakistan
claims that by diverting the water for her own irrigation
schemes, India has reduced the flow into Pakistan, and that
her vital canals are drying up. India attributes the reduced
volume to drought on both sides of the border, and insists
she is continuing the supply of water as before.
Some kind of international control of the entire Indus
River system has been suggested as a possible solution, but
Prime Minister Nehru thinks this is not a workable idea.
For some time now, engineers sent by the World Bank, to-
gether with experts from Pakistan and India, have been
engaged on a nine-thousand-mile survey of the Indus basin,
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As Pakistan Sees It
with the idea of working out some kind of joint plan for
its development and control. It is possible that with good
will the two countries may yet develop a practical working
arrangement for their common benefit, for as I understand
it, there is ample water in the Indus system for both, if it is
efficiently utilized.
Pakistan is also planning to spend a great deal of money
over the next few years developing power for its new in-
dustries. I have mentioned the big hydroelectric plant at
Rasul which has already started delivering power; another,
at Dargai, will be completed soon. The other two largest,
I believe, will be at Warsak in the northern part of West
Pakistan and at Kamafuli in East Pakistan, both of them
part of river valley development schemes. Through these
and a number of smaller power stations they hope before
long to more than quadruple their present total generating
capacity, now one of the lowest in the world.
f Pakistan still has very little in the way of industries, for
here she has had to start almost from scratch. Nevertheless,
she has made a good start on her long-range program. Cot-
tage industries are being developed in rural areas small,
very simple factories where men and women from the neigh-
borhood find occupation and a livelihood, weaving, making
jewelry, pottery and the like. We visited some of these
places, and while the equipment might be considered primi-
tive, the work requires great skill and the things they were
making were beautiful.
[83]
India and the Awakening East
However, the cottage industries are only a very small part
of the industrial picture. Many new factories on a much
larger scale are planned and older ones are being enlarged.
These include sugar refineries, cement, glass, chemical and
fertilizer factories, and a big paper mill near Chittagong in
East Pakistan. I know of at least one large, new sugar fac-
tory that has already been built, as well as a cigarette fac-
tory. The leather and shoe industry is well established. In
Karachi and other cities I saw a number of impressive plants
owned by Western firms like General Electric and Johnson
& Johnson, besides many belonging to Pakistan industrial-
ists. I recall particularly a large textile mill we visited; it
was equipped with the most modern machinery and was
running to capacity.
But the main emphasis in the Pakistan industrial pro-
gram is on the manufacture of cotton textiles and jute
goods, since jute and cotton are her two big crops, and the
real source of the country's prosperity. Having emerged
from partition with few textile mills and no jute mills (but
80 per cent of the jute-producing lands), Pakistan has en-
ergetically set about building its own cotton- and jute-
processing plants and developing its own export markets.
Later in my trip, during a flying one-day visit to East
Pakistan where the jute is grown, I saw a jute factory in
operation. It seemed to me very much like a cotton mill.
This particular concern was in the process of adding to its
plant; it was evidently very prosperous and the machinery
was modern, but there was no air conditioning. The air was
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As Pakistan Sees It
filled with floating particles, but none of the workers wore
masks. I was not surprised to be told that the incidence of
tuberculosis was very high. When I told the manager that
the people should wear masks, he said it would be impossible
to train them to do so.
The houses in which the workers lived, like those in
most of the villages, are built of mud bricks and consist as
a rule of two rooms, with a small area partitioned off for
cooking at one end. The roof extends over the courtyard,
providing a kind of porch, and there are no windows
and certainly no screens. But though they are lacking
in almost everything we consider essential for health
and comfort, they are very clean, and there was great dig-
nity in the way the people made us welcome and showed
us their homes. Fruit and coffee were spread on a table
under the trees, and nothing could have been more delight-
ful than the kindness and good will expressed in their
speeches.
My hostess that day was the wife of the Governor, Lady
Firoz Khan Noon, who looked charming in a soft pink sari.
Though she is English, she has become completely a part
of Indian life. The thing she was most anxious to impress
upon me was how much they needed in East Pakistan the
kind of domestic science training school the Begum Liaquat
Ali Khan had obtained from the Ford Foundation for
Karachi. I hope indeed that one day her desire will be
realized, for such a school is sorely needed.
I was deeply impressed by the enthusiasm of the Cabinet
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India and the Awakening East
Minister in charge of Pakistan's industrial projects. He has
such a strong belief in his country's future that he managed
to infect me with his own feeling of confidence.
In all of their various plans and programs, they are ex-
tremely insistent in Karachi that the budget be balanced.
If they do not have the money for some particular project,
they just do not spend it.
The shadow on the economic picture, apart from the high
cost of armaments, is cast by the unhappy trade situation
between Pakistan and India. The economies of the two
countries naturally supplement each other; and at the time
of partition it was expected that India would buy from
Pakistan the jute and cotton she needs to keep her mills
busy, and that Pakistan would get her coal (of which she
has little) and cotton textiles from India. But the bad feel-
ing between the two countries has interfered with this
natural development; in the five years since independence,
India has dropped to third place in Pakistan's international
trade; Pakistan even lower in India's. India put a discrimina-
tory surcharge on coal going to Pakistan; Pakistan levied an
extra duty on jute sold to India. As a result Pakistan has
been getting her coal from Poland, Czechoslovakia and
South Africa, and selling her cotton and jute to other coun-
tries, notably Japan, from whom also she imports most of
her cotton textiles. Japan, who is India's main competitor
in the manufacture of cotton textiles, has thus become
Pakistan's leading partner in trade. India has been buying
[86]
As Pakistan Sees It
her cotton from the United States, Egypt and Kenya and
has been increasing her own jute acreage with a view to
becoming in time independent of the supply from Pakistan.
Clearly such a state of affairs cannot work to the advan-
tage of either country. It will not, for instance, help Pakistan
to seek uncertain markets overseas, thus encouraging India
to become self-sufficient in jute production, when she has
such a large, natural and accessible market in this near
neighbor. Nor will it help India, whose jute goods are one
of her most important exports, to encourage the sale of
Pakistan's raw jute to Japan, India's chief rival in this field.
I could not but feel that a trade policy which led each
country thus to weaken the economy of the other, rather
than to strengthen the economy of the subcontinent as a
whole, was neither wise nor healthy from any point of
view. But knowing there were able, devoted and selfless
men in both India and Pakistan I felt that they must in
time come to the point where they could acknowledge their
need of each other. It was, therefore, most heartening to
read recently. that they have now signed a new trade agree-
ment under which Pakistan has abolished her extra duty
on jute to India, and India has removed her extra charge
on coal to Pakistan. If this can be followed by a more gen-
eral long-term trade pact, commerce may again begin to
flow easily between these two natural partners, to the im-
measurable benefit of both and to the world in general.
I am afraid that so far I may have given the impression
India and the Awakening East
that my visit to Pakistan consisted only of a series of in-
spection trips. On the contrary, my hosts made every ef-
fort to see that I was entertained as well as enlightened,
and arranged for me to witness a number of gala events and
celebrations that were characteristic of the country. One
that stands out in my memory was a breath-taking exhibi-
tion of riding and tent-pegging. Long pegs are driven into
the ground at one end of the course; the riders line up far
down the field at the other end, and then with spears poised
gallop at top speed toward the pegs, attempting to spear
them as they go by. We watched for some time from a little
covered booth beside the field and came quickly to the con-
clusion that it was a daring and exciting sport. The riders
were beautifully expert, and the Arab horses as intelligent,
quick and dexterous as their riders, but with all their dex-
terity, the horsemen did not always succeed in spearing the
Another day I was delighted to have an opportunity to
attend a durbar. This particular one was held in Sibi in
the province of Baluchistan, and a most colorful and pic-
turesque ceremony it proved to be. Baluchistan, bordered
on the north by Afghanistan, is rough, mountainous coun-
try, and the home of nomadic and sometimes unruly tribes.
Once a year the tribesmen and their chiefs come in from
the hills and gather to pay homage to the Governor and to
receive from him recognition of their loyalty. It is an im-
portant and impressive occasion, elaborately prepared for,
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As Pakistan Sees It
and attended by Cabinet members, military leaders and
various other government officials, as well as plain sight-
seers. A red carpet covers the ground; under a canopy at
one end sit the Governor and his staff; the rest of the people,
under a canvas, are arranged to form a square, the tribal
chiefs in groups facing the Governor, the guests along
the sides. There is a melange of costumes; some wear flow-
ing white robes and turbans; others are clothed in a curious
combination of Eastern and Western dress, and still others
wear well-tailored Western suits. I was fascinated by the
faces of the chiefs strong, bearded, proud and dignified.
The ceremony began with music; then the Governor pre-
sented each chief with a certificate of commendation and a
small sum of money. The money is simply a token award
to chiefs who have been able to control their tribespeople
and keep them from making trouble during the previous
year.
This business of tribal discipline is no small matter, and
the significance of the award is only fully appreciated by
those who live there and know how disruptive tribal raids
on settled communities can be. As we drove about Sibi, be-
fore and after the durbar, and saw the tribesmen encamped
on the outskirts of the city and even in the city itself, we
quite realized what terrifying neighbors such young, reck-
less, warlike groups might be if their leaders did not keep
them in hand.
I was very grateful to be given an opportunity, my last
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India and the Awakening East
afternoon in Karachi, to make a farewell broadcast to the
people and to express my feelings toward them and their
country.
To me, a Westerner, brought up to believe that church
and state should be separate, a country where religion plays
such a controlling part, not only in one's daily life but in the
affairs of the government, must always seem strange. The
very fact of its religious coloration inevitably limits and
complicates its relations with its own citizens as well as with
other nations. Nevertheless, the principles of Islam seem to
me admirable ones for any government to follow. And I be-
lieve it is true that Liaquat Ali Khan, before his death, ex-
plicitly rejected the charge that Pakistan was a theocratic
state. In the spring of 1950, following a resurgence of com-
munal trouble in East and West Bengal, he and Prime
Minister Nehru of India issued a joint statement accepting
the principle that both India and Pakistan should be secular
states, and pledging freedom of worship and full political
and civil rights for all persons. A Constituent Assembly is
now meeting in Karachi, its members elected by the legis-
latures of the provinces. The constitution it is drawing up
will provide protection for the religions and cultures of all
minorities Hindus, Parsees and Christians, who comprise
about 30 per cent of the population. It is expected that the
Assembly will decide to make Pakistan a republic, but
whether it will retain its ties with the Commonwealth, as
India has, or make a complete break is not yet certain.
[90]
As Pakistan Sees It
Whatever form their government takes, the spirit of the
people of Pakistan is something one does not soon forget.
There is courage and great vitality. They are determined to
make their government succeed, and their nation a cohesive
force. Any new government has innumerable problems, of
course, but in talking to the men at the head of this one, I
was convinced that their devotion and intelligent approach,
with the resolute support of the people, cannot fail to make
Pakistan a great country.
The Khyber Pass: A Sentimental
Journey
There was one thing I wanted very much to do before leav-
ing Pakistan and that was to drive up the Khyber Pass. Some
seventy-two years ago my father had gone through the Pass
during the course of a hunting trip in India and I had al-
ways remembered his descriptions of it. For me, this would
be one of the truly sentimental journeys; so I was delighted
when it proved possible to arrange it.
The Khyber has been called the gateway to the plains of
India, a narrow cut through the mountains of the Hindu
Kush on the border of Afghanistan and the North-West
Frontier Province of Pakistan. It is the invasion route taken
by the armies of Alexander the Great and Baber and Mah-
mud of Ghazni; it is the ancient trade route still followed
by the caravans coming south from Afghanistan to India;
and it was the scene of many clashes and skirmishes during
the Afghan wars of the nineteenth century.
To get there we flew from Karachi to Peshawar, leaving
The Khyber Pass
at seven in the morning. It was beginning to seem as if I
were up early and late going to bed practically all the time
no one out there ever seems to mind early rising. The flight
was pleasant and shorter than we had expected; and after
an early lunch we started up the Pass.
The road from Peshawar leads west across a barren plain
for ten or eleven miles to Jamrud Fort, at the entrance to
the Khyber. This old fort is hewn right out of the rocks. It
was here that the famous Sikh general, Sir Hari Singh, was
killed during an Afghan attack. After his death, so I was
told, his soldiers kept his body propped up at a window for
several days so that the enemy would not know they had
killed him. Later Jamrud was the garrison of the renowned
Khyber Rifles, and the base of operations during the Afghan
wars.
A few miles beyond Jamrud the road enters an opening
in the mountains where the Pass proper really begins. As
we drove through that narrow, winding defile, I kept think-
ing of my father's expedition and of how different it must
have looked from our line of motorcars.
At the mouth of the Pass a number of Afridi tribesmen
were gathered to meet me. I got out of the car to shake
hands with them, and to my horror they presented me with
three live sheep. I must have looked a little dazed as I
pictured myself taking three sheep home with me in an
airplane, for our government escort came to my rescue.
"Accept them/' he said. "Then they will be killed, cooked
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India and the Awakening East
and eaten in your honor." Greatly relieved, I accepted them
and made a polite speech. They told me some more tribes-
men were waiting at a guesthouse halfway up, and asked me
to stop and greet them. I agreed and we drove on.
The scenery of the Pass is magnificent. Shale and lime-
stone cliffs rise a thousand feet high on either side, and
above them tower the majestic, forbidding mountains of
the Hindu Kush. All along the way plaques fastened to
the rocks commemorate the service of various British regi-
ments. The Pass is guarded by the Afridis, Afghan tribes-
men whose home it has been for thousands of years. They
act as a kind of border police, and are paid by the govern-
ment formerly Britain, now Pakistan not only to guard
the Pass, but to keep order among their own unruly tribes-
people. The sentries are seldom visible, but one knows
they are there, spaced out at intervals, keeping watch from
nearby hillocks. Occasionally I caught a glimpse of a lonely
figure on the top of a high, rocky crag, bringing to my
mind Kipling's "Ballad of East and West" and the wild
chase of the Colonel's son after his father's red mare,
stolen by a Border thief.
There was rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean
thorn between.
And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick though never a man
was seen.
Indeed, the headquarters of the British regiment that
inspired the ballad was at Mardan, not far from Peshawar.
[94]
The Khyber Pass
After a distance we came to a high plateau from where
we could see the fortress of Ali Masjid, the scene of many
grim sieges, which commands the center of the Pass. Just
two years before my father's trip, a friendly English mission
to the Afghan ruler, Shere Ali, was turned back at Fort Ali
Masjid, thus setting off the second full-scale Afghan war.
There are actually two roads running through the Pass in
addition to a full-gauge railway: a road for automobiles and
the road followed by the caravans. The Pass is so narrow
in some places that one road has been cut through directly
above the other. We were much amused by the signs at
the intersections of the caravan route and the motor road;
on the one, with the direction indicated by an arrow, are
painted a camel and a donkey; on the other an auto. I was
told that two roads were really necessary, for the caravans
with their herds of goats and sheep and camels and donkeys
are so slow-moving and often so long that they would com-
pletely clog the road and make it impassable for motor
traffic. For the traders who come south in the fall to sell
their furs and rugs and fruits, returning north in the spring,
and especially for the nomadic tribes who, in the past at
least, used to pasture their flocks in the Punjab in the
winter, this twenty-two mile long pass was often a two or
three days 7 journey.
On either side of the road wherever the land is level
enough to permit there are small villages surrounded by
high walls, each with its own mud watchtower. The farther
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India and the Awakening East
up we went the more interested I became in the houses.
Each house looked as if it were built to defend itself against
its neighbor. In the outer wall, which is all you can see, are
little slits big enough only for a rifle, behind which one
man might stand and aim.
I had made a great point of being allowed on this drive
to have time to see what we wanted to see and to take some
pictures. This was the particular province of Dr. David
Gurewitsch, my physician, who, as I think I have said,
joined us in Israel. Today, for a moment, it looked as if
his picture-taking might be getting him into trouble. He
had climbed a rise at the side of the road overlooking some
of the fortresslike houses in order to take a picture of one,
when suddenly a guard appeared and leveled his rifle at him.
We learned through our driver that the sentry thought Dr.
Gurewitsch was trying to spy on the women in a nearby
house, and he was vehemently sure that the camera the
doctor was holding to his eyes was a pair of binoculars.
By the time this was settled and we had reached the
guesthouse my curiosity to see the inside of one of these
houses was keen. Lined up on the little lawn here were
more tribesmen, with three more sheep and a large loaf of
bread. I was asked to break off a small piece, salt it, and
eat it, in accordance with the old tradition that whoever
breaks bread with his host and eats it with salt is a safe and
honored guest Following this little ceremony the tribesmen
presented me with a pistol made entirely by hand. It was
[96]
The Khyber Pass
a perfect copy of an English make even to the name of
the British maker.
While we were having tea in the guesthouse, I gathered
up my courage and asked the man who seemed to be in
charge whether anyone was ever permitted to see the inside
of a tribesman's house. He looked a little shocked, but told
me he would find out. When he returned to the room, he
said he would stop our car on our way back and let me
know if one of the tribesmen had agreed to invite us. I
realized that to get this invitation would require careful
negotiation and if it were offered, I could feel that a most
unusual concession had been made.
We drove up the Pass as far as the Afghan border. The
sentry houses were only a few feet apart, but we had been
carefully warned not to so much as step across the line. If
we did, they said, we might not get back again. Of course,
there would have been no difficulty if we had had visas,
but we didn't. Some American diplomats stationed in
Afghanistan, who were on a motor trip, had heard that
we were coming through the Pass and had waited there to
greet us. I only hope they felt as much pleasure in seeing
someone from home as we did.
We started to climb up the side of the Pass and Dr. Gure-
witsch, who wanted to take some more pictures, was soon
high above us. I thought he seemed in danger of getting
over the line and rapidly sent a sentry after him before he
was whisked away by unseen Afghan guards, who we were
assured were constantly on watch.
[97]
India and the Awakening East
On our way back down the Pass we saw some tribesmen
standing beside the road, and though I saw no house, I
immediately got out of the car. They led us down a path
and we came suddenly to a house under a hill just a blank
wall with a door. We went through the door into a court-
yard, where a little boy was playing with his goat, and then
were ushered with great ceremony into a room that looked
like another courtyard, for it had no roof. But a handsome
rug was spread on the floor, and on a small table were set
out the most exquisite china cups I have ever seen, filled
with the usual black Arab coffee. I was so intrigued at find-
ing such rare china in this rather poor and primitive home
that after we left I asked about it and was told it probably
went back to the days of the Czars, when much beautiful
china was made in Russia. Some of it undoubtedly found
its way into the caravans of the traders, from whom the
people living along the route often bought goods. Today
one could not buy such china anywhere.
The owner of the house explained that one room opening
from the courtyard was the prayer room; the other was a
bedroom. Curiously I peeked in. Against the walls stood
three charpoys beds with four low wooden corner posts
and a wooden frame through which ropes are strung to
form a support for their pads and blankets. The middle of
the floor was hollowed out. Here in cold weather they build
a fire and place a heavy, low table over the coals. A large
rug is spread over the table and stretched out, forming a
[98]
The Khyber Pass
kind of tent under which the men sleep at night, their feet
toward the fire. Hesitantly I asked whether we might go
into the women's quarters, and was told the women in our
party could, but not the men. The owner took us to the
door and then left us. There were two women in the room
and several children. At first they seemed rather frightened
of us, but after a bit they plucked up courage and showed
me with obvious pride where they baked their bread, and
where they kept their utensils. Apparently all of them used
the one room. Some pads and blankets were rolled up on a
shelf; and a few cooking utensils were arranged on another
shelf as decoration; but as far as furniture goes there was
none.
The court had one very amazing feature a huge truck
built right into the bank that formed a wall of the house.
It had been beautifully painted with pictures in many
colors. I can only think that the house must have been built
around it; there was simply no other way for it to have
gotten in there. I imagine that at some point after they
bought it, it probably stopped running and not having
enough mechanical knowledge to fix it, they decided to
preserve it as a symbol of their riches and importance.
On our way back to Peshawar we stopped off at the
North-West Frontier University, and I had a chance to
meet and talk to the students. As always when I spoke
before university groups on this trip, I discussed the par-
ticular kind of educational preparation that was needed by
[99]
India and the Awakening East
young men and women who are going to have a part in the
modern agricultural and industrial development of their
country. I would point out that in building a free and demo-
cratic government they were creating a model for their area
of the world, and I would stress the responsibilities that this
type of government inevitably demands of its citizens.
Whenever possible, I allowed time for a question-and-
answer period, for the authorities felt this might clarify the
thinking of some of the young people, who, in the univer-
sities particularly, are subject to considerable Communist
influence. But I shall have more to say about this later.
[100]
The Changing India
We landed in New Delhi on February 27, having flown in
an Indian air-line plane from Lahore. Though I did not
realize it at the time, this is apparently the only way one
can cross from Pakistan into India. Trains do not run
between them and all the railroad tracks have been torn
up for several hundred yards on either side of the border.
The only alternative to flying is to go all the way by boat
from Karachi down the coast to Bombay. This is only an-
other instance of the almost total lack of reciprocity between
the two countries, a lack that prevents even the mails from
getting easily from one to the other, that has shrunk the
flow of trade and parted families. The deep-seated bitter-
ness, like that existing between Israel and the Arab coun-
tries, has created a situation that is unutterably tragic, but
there is no use in saying, as I have heard people say, that
India and Pakistan should be and perhaps someday may be
one country again. From all I heard and saw, I am con-
vinced that Pakistan is completely established as an inde-
[101]
India and the Awakening East
pendent nation, just as Israel is. Nevertheless I can't help
believing that the issues over which they are now so bitterly
divided water rights, Kashmir, the property of evacuated
refugees, trade relations can and will be resolved, given
good sense and good will.
When we arrived in New Delhi, I was rather over-
whelmed to find Prime Minister Nehru there to greet me^
I felt that such a busy man should not be obliged to wel-
come guests. He was accompanied by a number of other
officials, including Rajkumari Amrit Kaur, a Christian-
princess who had been a devoted friend and disciple of
Gandhi, and who is now carrying a tremendous burden as
India's Minister of Health; Major Yunus Khan, one of the
President's military aides and Madame Vijaya Lakshmi
Pandit, Nehru's sister and head of India's delegation to the
UN. I was also extremely glad to see waiting for me Ambas-
sador Chester Bowles and his wife. Many of the American
officials who were so kind to me everywhere on this trip I
had met before, of course, and it was always a pleasure to
renew our acquaintance. In the Bowleses, however, I was
greeting good friends whom I had known for many years;
and since my stay in India was going to be so much longer
than anywhere else, I felt great need of the advice and in-
formation I knew they could give me.
Madame Pandit had brought me one of the loveliest
chains I had yet seen, made of cloves and other delicious-
smelling beads, and I enjoyed their fragrance as they hung
[102]
The Changing India
about my neck. Again, however, I had so many necklaces
of flowers and tinsel that I finally took them off when I got
into the car.
As we drove through the streets I was struck by the
method of sweeping them. Old men and women, half
doubled over, were swishing them clean with little brooms
made of sticks or twigs tied together. And the brooms
had no handles. I must say that considering what they had
to use, they kept the streets remarkably clean. But there
was a lesson in those brooms: In India people were cheaper
than broom handles; it was easier to replace a worn-out
human being than to pay for a handle for his broom.
We drove directly to Government House, the official
home of India's President, Rajendra Prasad, where, as
protocol required, we were to spend our first night. The
following day we were to move to the home of the Prime
Minister and stay with him for the rest of our visit.
In the days of British rule, Government House was the
home of the Viceroy. Its last British occupant was Lord
Mountbatten, India's last Viceroy, and, at the request of
the Indians themselves, her first Governor General. Then,
after India gave up her dominion status to become a re-
public, Government House of course became the home of
her President.
I was given the room formerly occupied by Lady Mount-
batten, and again, as in Karachi, I was impressed by the
smooth perfection of the British-trained servants. I admit,
India and the Awakening East
though, that I was a little taken aback when my particular
<f boy" drew my bath, gathered up my dresses for pressing
and was entirely ready to be a good lady's maid.
In the afternoon, just before the sun went down, we
walked through the gardens of Government House the
most beautiful gardens imaginable. They were like some I
had seen in England, only far more brilliant and luxuriant,
and obviously tended by someone who loved flowers. The
flower varieties were more or less familiar to me, but the
blossoms were larger and more gorgeously colored. I in-
quired of one of the men we saw walking along a path (who
luckily spoke English) whether the head gardener was
Indian or English, and learning that he was an Indian, asked
that he be told of my pleasure in the gardens, adding that I
thought his color arrangements strikingly artistic. The man
seemed most appreciative and was clearly pleased by my
delight in the flowers.
We rarely saw flowers as we drove around the country-
side, except where they were growing in carefully tended
gardens. Perhaps that is because we were there in late Feb-
ruary and March, for except when the rains come in the
summer, most of India is apt to be parched and dusty. Then,
too, the constantly foraging herds of cattle and goats eat
every green thing; nothing really has a chance to grow.
As it happened, Lady Mountbatten was staying with the
Prime Minister the first evening we were in New Delhi, and
to my pleasure, for I have always liked and admired her,
[104]
The Changing India
we met when my party went there for dinner. During the
year she and Lord Mountbatten were in India she greatly
endeared herself to the people by her warm and active in-
terest in their welfare; and particularly by her tireless relief
work in the refugee camps and hospitals during the partition
riots. On this trip she was doing some work for the Red
Cross, and planned to go on to the Far East.
During the course of the evening, I asked Prime Minister
Nehru about an article on India's recent election, which I
had read before leaving the United States. It described how
people had spent days traveling through tiger-infested
jungles in order to vote; how some of the primitive tribes
had trekked miles across deserts, blowing little flutes, and
announcing, when they finally reached their destination,
that they had come to worship the god '*Vote." Under the
Indian Constitution anyone who is twenty-one and of
sound mind can vote. There are no other qualifications,
neither of sex, race, religion, literacy nor property. Out of
India's 360 million people, this opened the polls to some
176 million. And of that number 90 million voted more
than half of them women, incidentally.
I told Prime Minister Nehru that I had been long enough
an observer of political life to know that no great outpour-
ing of voters occurs unless someone has done some remark-
able compaigning, and I asked him how it came about. He
beckoned me into his office and pointed to a map on the
wall. This map told the tale. It traced all his campaign trips
India and the Awakening East
before the election, and showed how many miles he had
traveled by air, train, boat and automobile altogether 25,-
732 miles. Not included, however, were the miles he traveled
by bullock cart, on horseback and on foot. At the bottom
of the map is a line reading: "The Prime Minister, it is
estimated, talked personally to thirty million people in his
audience/'
Something of what this involved can be gathered from
his account of an earlier campaign, described in his beauti-
ful book, The Discovery of India. This was in 1937 ten
years before India gained her independence during the
general elections for the provincial assemblies.
Toward the end of 1936 and the early months of 1937 my tour-
ing progressively gathered speed and became frantic. I passed
through this vast country like some hurricane, traveling night
and day, always on the move, hardly staying anywhere, hardly
resting. There were urgent demands for me from all parts and
time was limited, for the general elections were approaching and
I was supposed to be an election-winner for others. I traveled
mostly by automobile, partly by airplane and railway. Occasion-
ally I had to use, for short distances, an elephant, a camel, or a
horse; or travel by steamer, paddle boat, or canoe; or use a bicycle;
or go on foot. These odd and varied methods of transport some-
times became necessary in the interior, far from the beaten track.
I carried a double set of microphones and loudspeakers with me,
for it was not possible to deal with the vast gatherings in any
other way; nor indeed could I otherwise retain my voice. Those
microphones went with me to all manner of strange places from
[106]
The Changing India
the frontiers of Tibet to the border of Baluchistan, where no
such thing had ever been seen or heard of previously.
From early morning till late at night I traveled from place to
place where great gatherings awaited me, and in between these
there were numerous stops where patient villagers stood to greet
me. These were impromptu affairs, which upset my heavy pro-
gram and delayed all subsequent engagements; and yet how was
it possible for me to rush by, unheeding and careless of these
humble folk? Delay was added to delay, and at the big open-air
gatherings it took many minutes for me to pass through the
crowds to the platform, and later to come away. Every minute
counted, and the minutes piled up on top of each other and be-
came hours; so that by the time evening came I was several hours
late. But the crowd was waiting patiently, though it was winter
and they sat and shivered in the open, insufficiently clad as they
were. My day's program would thus prolong itself to eighteen
hours and we would reach our journey's end for the day at mid-
night or after. . . .
Someone took the trouble to estimate that during these
months some ten million persons actually attended the meetings
I addressed, while some additional millions were brought into
some kind of touch with me during my journeys by road. The
biggest gatherings would consist of about one hundred thousand
persons, while audiences of twenty thousand were fairly common.
Occasionally, in passing through a small town I would be sur-
pr ^d to notice that it was almost deserted and the shops were
clc.ed. The explanation came to me when I saw that almost the
population of the town, men, women, and even children,
' gathered at the meeting place, on the other side of the town,
an4| were waiting patiently for my arrival.
How I managed to carry on in this way without physical col-
[107]
India and the Awakening East
lapse, I cannot understand now, for it was a prodigious feat of
physical endurance. Gradually, I suppose, my system adapted
itself to this vagrant life. I would sleep heavily in the automobile
for half aji hour between two meetings and find it hard to wake
up. Yet I had to get up, and the sight of a great cheering crowd
would finally wake me. I reduced my meals to a minimum and
often dropped a meal, especially in the evenings, feeling the
better for it. But what kept me up and filled me with vitality was
the vast enthusiasm and affection that surrounded me and met
me everywhere I went I was used to it, and yet I could never get
quite used to it, and every new day brought its surprises.
He goes on to say that in his speeches that year he hardly
referred to the individual candidates, and though he asked
for votes for the Congress Party, his appeal was based on
ideas. He asked the people to vote for the independence of
India, and promised unceasing struggle until freedom was
won.
Ten years later, as he again crisscrossed India, he must
have been seen and heard by many of those same people.
This time he told them that now freedom had been won,
the next goal was an end to misery and hunger \, *+er
living conditions, better wages, more food. He ex^I
what the government had done for the people dr
four years since independence and wha f 4 .
planned to accomplish during the next five year.- .
doubt greatly whether any moie than in that { . -, * . c-
tion he talked much about the partial C r / of the
Congress Party arid the fact that ] ~ leader
The Changing India
and that he wished the people would join it Instead, I
think he told them that in a new democracy such as theirs
it was especially incumbent on each citizen to feel and
accept a great personal responsibility; that the problems of
the country could never be solved by any one person, but
only if all alike shared the duties of citizenship. And I am
quite sure he told them that the first obligation of every
citizen was to cast a vote.
To make this possible in a country of such vast distances,
where at least 70 per cent of the people are illiterate and
85 per cent or more live on farms or in villages, was a
unique and gigantic undertaking. In the first place, the
election had to be held at a time when the monsoon
wouldn't make it impossible for people to get to the polling
places; in the second place, it had to be* Spaced out over
1 several months and held in dmergnt sectkns of the country
ai different times, in order not in interfere with local periods
oL sowing and harvesting. In order to have ballot boxes
within at least reasonable distance* of every population
ough we might not think it a reasonable distance)
$$ Billion boxes were made and distributed
y^cgjarter of a million voting places. Those who could
31 * ! : '$3oPlti$P voted with colored sticks, each color indi-
[Afferent party. The ballot boxes were marked with
*J(. ;^Congress Party Jjpx, for example, was marked
with a ^ r fWp^|J^k4b:^the Socialist Party had, a tree
on i|| V* , ' >v^911PJ^a siqHe and gars of corn;
India and the Awakening East
Party of the Untouchables an elephant; and so on. That
the people are not particularly party-conscious, however, is
suggested by the fact that many of them, when aslced at the
polls for what party they wanted to vote, replied that they
knew nothing of parties, but added "we want Nehru's box."
That the votes put into "Nehru's box" gave his party 75 per
cent of the seats in Parliament speaks for itself.
The first two years of India's independence were com-
plicated, as they were in Pakistan, by the staggering refugee
resettlement problem. Much of the attention and energy
of the government had to be devoted to getting these people
under cover and started in life again. Since then the gov-
ernment has begun to tackle the other vital problems
industrialization, river development, greater food produc-
tion, education, health and the like. The country's needs
and potentialities were studied; her objectives set; and on
the basis of this an ambitious and complex Five Year Plan
was drawn up and put in operation. But there was so much
to be done, with everything needing to be done at once,
that I had a feeling that only a beginning had been made,
India is still a land of great contrasts, of a few very rich
people and great masses who have been poor and hungry
and oppressed for generations. This was dramatized for me
by the many pitiful little human processions that passed
me in the streets, where a mother was carrying her baby to
a funeral pyre. One out of every three babies still dies in
the first year of life in India. And wherever I went, it seemed
to me, almost all the people were thin.
[no]
The Changing India
Nevertheless, though India has far to go, she has made
a determined and inspired beginning. This new democracy
seems to evoke the kind of passionate devotion among its
leaders that our forefathers had for the democratic gov-
ernment they were establishing here. Perhaps this is one of
the greatest contributions the young democracies can make
to the older ones such as ours. We have grown stale; we
are inclined to take everything for granted. We find it hard
to go to vote if it means we have to walk a considerable dis-
tance or if, because of the crowds, we have to stand in line to
cast our ballots. Perhaps we may draw from people who
ford rivers and walk miles of jungle trails in order to vote
a new sense of our responsibility and a revival of our fore-
fathers 7 readiness to pledge "our lives, our sacred honor and
all our worldly goods" for the idea they believed would
make this country a place worth living in. Not just a place
where people could earn fabulous wealth, but a place where
people could live in freedom according to their convictions
and work to make their ideals realities.
The democracy India is building probably will never be
exactly like ours. There is no reason why it should be, for
her history, cultural background and needs are completely
different from those that dictated our form of democracy
and guided its development. What the leaders of India
want and are determined to have is a democracy that is
indigenous to their own country not English or American
or French or Russian but one based on their own past and
India and the Awakening East
the character of their own people, and growing and taking
form according to their own needs.
So far this has taken shape as a mixed economy. For some
time the government will be devoting the bulk of its re-
sources to the development of agriculture, irrigation, power,
transport and social service; leaving industrial expansion
largely to the province of private industry. However, the
government regulates its over-all operation: If, for example,
you decided you wanted to set up a shoe factory, you would
have to get permission of the proper government board,
who would then determine whether it fitted into the over-
all, long-range plan. For the fact is that India simply cannot
afford waste and duplication; it cannot afford an unneces-
sary shoe factory in an area where it may need badly a paper
factory or a fertilizer plant.
It is in helping India to build in its own way and on its
own strength that Ambassador Bowles has done such a
remarkable job. I was glad to have an early opportunity to
talk with him, for as I have said I felt a need of guidance.
At that time, he had been in India less than half a year, but
his ability to absorb background information and get the
feeling of the situation is well-known. In those five short
months he had made great strides in seeing that foreign aid
was intelligently co-ordinated and applied. Perhaps even
more important he had given Indians an entirely new idea
of American officialdom, and a new confidence in our
motives and our good will.
[112]
The Changing India
There is no use fooling ourselves: We must face the
fact that in the years after the war our popularity took
a terrible tumble in India, as it did throughout the
East. In the Arab countries, as I have explained, this was
largely because they could not understand our attitude on
the partitioning of Palestine and the greater help they feel
we have given Israel. We had always been friendly to them;
these, to their mind, were not the acts of a friend. Pakistan,
as a Moslem nation, is sympathetic to their point of view.
In India, after the departure of the British, the resent-
ment previously felt toward them was in a large measure
transferred to us. Never convinced that the British really
intended to keep their promise to leave, the Indians were
deeply impressed when they actually did, and the disap-
pearance of their hostility was almost an overnight phe-
nomenon. I do not think they have forgotten the long years
of inferior status, or the economic damage the English
inflicted on India, but even though they recognize that some
of their present-day ills stem from British rule, their griev-
ances have been swallowed up in a surge of genuine friend-
liness and good will. They tend to remember the good
things the British did and to ignore the bad; and it is a fact
that today the British are remarkably popular there.
However, having shaken off the domination of one for-
eign power, they are understandably determined not to fall
under the influence of any other, whether that influence is
political, economic or military. They remember that it was
India and the Awakening East
the establishment of a few harmless trading posts by the
British East India Company that led in the end to the
years of British rule, and they fear that American aid may
have hidden political traps. Even Nehru, it is said, was at
first wary of Ambassador Bowles's suggestions for Point
Four aid, lest they concealed some attempt at economic
domination.
American Imperialism and the Almighty Dollar is still a
fearsome shibboleth in many parts of the world, particularly
in the countries that have so recently become free. I think
we suffer to some degree from history, for though we were
never a colonial power, we were an adventurous nation: our
ships sailed all the seas and our industrialists had enterprises
all over the world. In the early days some of our business-
men were perhaps none too scrupulous, and their dealings
left a flavor that led the exploited black, yellow and brown
peoples to lump us with all the other white imperialistic
nations.
There are a number of other factors that enter into the
distrust or resentment with which we are regarded in many
of the Asiatic countries. We can all understand, I think,
that no one likes the rich uncle who flaunts his wealth in
the face of your poverty; who will help you, perhaps but
on his own terms; who will send you to college, if you like
but only to the college of his choice. This, of course, is not
a fair description of our attitude; but, nevertheless, fair or
not, it is the way many people see us.
The Changing India
In addition we have against us their feeling that we, be-
cause our skins are white, necessarily look down upon all
peoples whose skins are yellow or black or brown. This
thought is never out of their minds, though out of polite-
ness they did not speak of it to me. They always asked me
pointedly, however, about our treatment of minorities in
our country.
We shall have to walk carefully for a long while to over-
come these misconceptions. Everyone who lives or travels
in this part of the world will have to remember that he is,
in his own person, an ambassador; not simply an ambassador
of the United States, but an ambassador of democracy.
For the United States is judged by the behavior of its indi-
vidual citizens; and to the people of these countries the
United States represents democracy.
By the time I arrived in India Mr. Bowles and his family
had, as I've said, made remarkable headway in dispelling
India's distrust of us and in changing the none-too-friendly
atmosphere to one of cordiality. I think that the impact of
the Bowleses on India was made largely by the warmth
they brought to diplomacy. Their life and their ways were
not those of the average diplomatic couple. They insisted
on moving into a smaller house, though there were those
who feared American prestige might suffer thereby. They
sent their children to an Indian public school instead of
to the school usually attended by diplomats' children. And
what is more, the children were not driven to school; they
India and the Awakening East
bicycled. Mr. Bowles talked with innumerable groups of
students, scientists and businessmen; he went out into the
countryside and walked through dusty villages and talked
and listened to the people there. Whether he ever got out
among India's still primitive tribes I don't know; but I
wouldn't be surprised. I do know that on one trip from
Delhi to Katmandu in Nepal he went part of the way on
ponyback in order to get closer to the country and its people.
Mrs. Bowles, too, has traveled indefatigably, visiting Amer-
ican aid projects and interesting herself in the work done
by the All-India Women's organizations and by the various
charitable, missionary and semi-missionary groups. The chil-
dren have made real friends. One Saturday morning I found
the oldest daughter working in a small free clinic supported
by the diplomatic group, helping to give out medicines
and ladling out UNICEF milk to the children. When her
parents came back to the United States on a visit last sum-
mer, she insisted on remaining behind in order to continue
her work. In short, the Bowleses lived as they do at home,
and approached people in the same friendly manner as they
would their friends in Connecticut By their essential de-
mocracy, by being themselves, they have made friends for
America.
And that is the advice Ambassador Bowles gave to me
when I talked to him. He thought that if I acted just as I
would anywhere at home, the mere fact of my interest in
everything I saw would help the Indians to understand
The Changing India
what Americans are like. His great desire, he told me, was
to see India realize that we the people of the United
States really cared about what happened to them. He
hoped to convince the government that our policies were
based on a desire for peace and that our day-to-day actions
were shaped with that idea constantly in mind.
The morning after my arrival, I went to place a wreath
on the memorial of a man who stood for peace in a way
few men have. Gandhi's samadhi is on the site of his funeral
pyre at Rajghat, a large open space near the Jumna River,
about five miles from Delhi. Here there will someday be a
park, and here the various nations have planted trees that
will in time give shade to those who want to walk there and
think about what Gandhi meant to the world. It occurred
to me that instead of simply planting an Indian tree, we
might try to find in our own country a tree that might
become acclimated to India; I think it would have more
meaning coming from the soil of the land that donated it.
Since my return I have learned that some countries have
done just that Greece planted an olive branch there, and
Japan two rare varieties of cinnamon and camphor, specially
chosen as suitable for the climate of Delhi.
As I traveled about India the next few weeks the im-
mensity of the task this new government faces became over-
whelmingly apparent. But I saw, too, wonderful and
India and the Awakening East
impressive evidence of the courage and imagination and
energy with which it is tackling the job of turning a back-
ward and exploited land into a modern nation.
India has two problems that seem to me particularly
urgent: One is how to grow more food; the other is how
to control the rising tide of her population. There are
roughly 360 million people in India today; the United
States, with almost three times the area, has less than
half that many people. Or put it another way: In India
there are 280 people to the square mile; in the United States
only 49. Even France, about a fifth the size of India, has
only 192 people to the square mile. The trouble is that
India's population, despite the toll taken by famine, flood
and disease, is growing at an alarming rate. In the last ten
years the increase amounted roughly to the size of the entire
population of France. At the present rate about 5 million
a year India will have a population of some 400 million by
1960, And even the elementary sanitary and health measures
that are being introduced in the villages are bound to shoot
up the yearly increase, perhaps double or triple it. If this
happens, it would not be possible to raise enough food to
give the people any more to eat than they have now; any
increase would simply go toward feeding more mouths. So
if India is to do any more than simply hold the line, if the
gains she is aiming at in her development plans are not thus
to be neutralized, steps will have to be taken to keep down
the growth of her population.
The Changing India
The government is fully conscious of this and has had
experts from the World Health Organization studying the
possibility of introducing family planning in the villages.
But it will not be easy. However, it is generally recognized
that as a country raises its standard of living, the size of
families is apt to decrease and the population tends to
stabilize itself.
With the food problem looming so large, India has had
to put increased agricultural production ahead of every-
thing else. Right now, she spends $600 million a year, and
more, importing food and cotton she could grow herself,
simply to maintain the present inadequate level of diet
and keep her textile mills running. I am told that with an
increased food production of ten million tons a year and
that is what she is aiming at in her Five Year Plan she
would be self-sufficient in food and could then use the
money she now has to spend buying grains abroad to ex-
pand her industry, build dams, power stations, hydroelectric
plants and irrigation works.
I find it means more to most people, as it does to me,
when figures like these can be related to individuals. In
those terms, India's "grow-more-food" program would by
1957 * ve ever Y person a daily grain ration of fifteen ounces
instead of the present twelve.
To achieve even this she needs not so much to bring more
land under cultivation though she is doing that too as to
get more from the farm land she already has. For instance,
India and the Awakening East
an Indian farmer gets only half as much wheat from an acre
as an American farmer, and only about one-fifth as much
cotton. Improved agricultural practices and techniques
alone will make a tremendous difference: better seeds, mod-
em tools, more fertilizer. (America's eight million fanners
use sixty times as much fertilizer as India's seventy-three
million. ) To introduce modern methods to the farmers in
the villages, India needs thousands of trained men tech-
nical specialists of all kinds, agricultural chemists, experts in
soil science, ecology, and sanitation, rural extension workers,
mechanics who can repair implements, engineers to lay out
irrigation and drainage works. The education the Indians
received under the British didn't equip them with these
skills. The British were interested only in turning out large
numbers of subordinate government workers for the Indian
Civil Service, which was perhaps the finest in the world at
that time. But that particular kind of knowledge isn't what
India most needs today.
Water is another problem. India's great rivers contain
more than enough for her needs, but at present only a very
small part of the flow is being used. Even with fifty million
acres under irrigation more than any other country in the
world only one-fifth of her farm land is regularly watered.
The rest of the land is dependent on the uncertain monsoon
rains which fall from late June to late August and rush off
in wasteful floods, leaving the land the rest of the year as
dry as a desert. To control and divert the waters of rivers and
[120]
The Changing India
to make the fullest use of her rainfall India needs dams,
reservoirs and extensive irrigation systems.
These are only a few aspects of the agricultural picture
that India faced when she took over from the British and
they must all be solved if she is ever to grow enough food
to feed her people adequately.
There is much that India herself can and most assuredly
is doing to meet these problems; but obviously she needs
some outside help. Happily, she is getting it There are a
number of organizations that are today working with the
Indian government in an effort to help it realize its goals.
There is, for example, the Colombo Plan, a program for
co-operative economic development and mutual aid drawn
up by the Commonwealth governments with the aim of
raising the level of living throughout South and Southeast
Asia.
There is our own Mutual Security Agency (MSA) , which
works with friendly governments anywhere who need eco-
nomic, technical and military assistance. Our Point Four
program for technical assistance to underdeveloped areas
comes under this; I shall have something to say later about
some of the Point Four projects I saw in operation in India.
Then there is the Ford Foundation, whose funds in for-
eign countries are devoted primarily to creating conditions
that increase the possibility of world peace. In India, sup-
plementing the work of Point Four, it has established a
number of demonstration centers and training schools for
[12!]
India and the Awakening East
the people who are to do agricultural, health and educa-
tional work among the villagers, and is assisting with nu-
merous village-improvement projects.
The Rockefeller Foundation is doing fine work in malaria
control, medical research and public health.
Under the UN Technical Assistance program, experts in
various fields are working with their Indian counterparts;
the United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization
(UNFAO) people there are making available to farmers
information on how to raise their crop production. For
instance, an international training center on soil fertility
has been established at the Agricultural College at Coin-
batore.
Health teams from the World Health Organization
(WHO) are helping with the elimination of malaria and
tuberculosis; the United Nations Educational, Social and
Cultural Organization (UNESCO) is giving India consid-
erable help with her adult education program; and the
United Nations International Children's Emergency Fund
(UNICEF) has saved the l|ves of countless children
through its supplies of milk aim medicines.
One of the useful jobs Chester Bowles did as Ambassador
was to co-ordinate the efforts/of these and other agencies
with programs in India. Where there had been a tendency
for each group to push ahead with its own particular job,
perhaps hoping to succeed a| little better than some other
organization it considered a/ rival, now they are working
[122]
The Changing India
together smoothly and effectively to India's greater
benefit.
Even this partial list should give one an idea of what
international co-operation can mean. It was vividly drama-
tized for me in microcosm when I saw the pilot project at
Etawah where a great co-operative venture and a most en-
couraging demonstration of what can be done in rural areas
is going forward.
Etawah is a district in the United Provinces, one of
India's twenty-eight states. Here some 700,000 people are
scattered among many small mud villages, which are usually
only a few miles apart. The idea for this agricultural ex-
periment was originally suggested by Albert Meyer, a New
York architect who is responsible for many of India's new
buildings and is designing the new capital of the Punjab.
For the first two years the project was carried forward by
the Indian government, which employed Horace Holmes,
the Cornell-trained American agricultural expert from
Tennessee, to head it up. Then, when the Point Four agree-
ments were signed, the work at Etawah was brought under
that program. Now most of the other agencies I mentioned
are co-operating with the Indian government there. But
Etawah is first and foremost an Indian project. We furnish
technical assistance and advice, and supplies that must be
bought abroad, on the self-help principle that is the basis
of all Point Four aid, but the plan is an Indian plan and
India and the Awakening East
what has been done has been done by the Indian people
themselves.
I was fortunate in visiting Etawah the same day Governor
Modi and his wife had chosen to make an inspection trip,
for I saw everything as it had been prepared for them, which
of course gave me a much more comprehensive picture than
I would have had otherwise. On the train I had the pleasure
of meeting and talking with Horace Holmes. I found him
a delightful person, enthusiastic and tremendously inter-
ested in the agricultural work that was being done. He had
a great respect for the intelligence and dignity and fineness
of the Indian people. His wife and family were out there
with him, and I gathered when I met his wife the next day
that they had done a wonderfully co-operative job.
It was an overnight trip to Etawah, and in the morning
we were met with impressive ceremony. Before eight-thirty
Scotch pipes could be heard outside the train; the Honor
Guard was standing at attention, and a red carpet was
rolled out. Promptly on the half-hour I was called for and
joined Governor Modi and his wife in their car.
It was the beginning of a day full of interest for me. Mr.
Holmes told me he had spent some time simply living and
working with the farmers before he tried to introduce new
ways. Then he did it by inducing a few of them to try
something different as an experiment perhaps imported
seeds, different fertilizer or a better tool. When they saw
the difference these things could make, they were quick
The Changing India
to try them on their own on a larger scale; and as demon-
stration followed demonstration other farmers, convinced,
began to follow suit.
Very wisely, Mr, Holmes and his Indian and American
associates made no attempt to force drastic changes or to
bring in heavy and expensive pieces of American machinery.
They introduced simple but improved implements a small
steel plow, for instance adapting them where necessary
to the use of the Indian farmer. At one time the Indian
government had imported some American seed drills. They
were not complicated, but for some reason that no one had
bothered to discover the Indian farmers had refused to use
them. Mr. Holmes and his associates found out that the
main reason for their unpopularity was simply that the
farmers could not read the American figures that indicated
the amount of seed to be used. After these were painted
over with numbers the Indians could understand, they
were delighted with the drill. The Etawah team is also train-
ing people to service the machinery, showing them how to
improve their existing implements and even how they can
make better ones for themselves.
They had prepared for us an exhibition of machinery
for which they had collected samples of every type of im-
plement, contrasting the old with the new: .for instance,
an old-style wooden plow would be shown beside a more
modern steel plow, old knives beside new knives. There
were also some very small imported tractors and examples
India and the Awakening East
of tools of their own devising scythes or a simple but per-
fectly useful cultivator that blacksmiths had been taught to
make from old automobile springs.
At another exhibit we saw a chart showing how they had
more than doubled their crop production by the new
methods now in use. We stood in the field of a fanner
whose wheat was almost as high as my head. Realizing that
it used to grow only about a foot high, I was not surprised
by his enormous pride in his achievement, particularly since
he knew it was largely the result of his own readiness to ex-
periment and to work hard. That is the fine thing Etawah
is doing: giving people just the little boost that enables
them to go forward and know they can go forward on
their own.
A number of the farmers also mentioned with pride the
improvement in their cattle. Most of the cattle in India
are diseased, scrawny animals and give little milk; but here
at Etawah Horace Holmes and his associates have proved
to the farmers the value of inoculations for rinderpest and
Bang's disease, of introducing new and better strains. Where
Egyptian clover was grown for fodder, the cows gave from
1 5 per cent to 50 per cent more milk.
India's cattle population is a real problem. Including
water buffaloes, it amounts to something like one-fourth of
all the cattle in the world. Half-starved, they roam at will
through the villages and fields and farms, foraging for them-
selves. As a result the land is overgrazed, there is no fuel,
The Changing India
and how many millions of tons of crops are lost to cows
(and monkeys) every year can hardly be estimated. Even
if healthy, they would be of no value, for most Hindus do
not eat meat (many of them do not even drink milk).
Economically then, the huge cattle population is a con-
siderable burden. But their marauding numbers can't be
reduced by killing them. In India the cow is a sacred animal.
So great is the respect in which they are held that they
are allowed even to enter the village shrines and the houses.
Cow dung is carefully collected, but instead of being plowed
into the land as manure it is made into fuel cakes, which are
dried on the wall or roofs of the houses. There, of course, it
attracts innumerable flies; and since the houses have no
screens or windows to keep them out, disease is carried
rapidly through a community. In the villages in the Etawah
district, the people are learning the importance of keeping
their cattle segregated in shelters or enclosures outside the
village.
Another effort is being made to get the people to put tip
small temporary privies which can be moved from time to
time; in most Indian villages now there is nothing of the
sort.
The village well, too which is often no more than a
scum-covered water hole has long been a menace to
health. Here beasts and humans gather to drink and to
bathe; women wash their clothes in it and children wade
in it. When I saw the cluster of animals, fowl and people
India and the Awakening East
for whom it is the center of village life, I was no longer
surprised that the life expectancy in India is twenty-seven
years, that so many babies die in the first year of life and
that dysentery and other diseases due to polluted water are
so prevalent.
Nevertheless, the memory I carried away after a day of
visiting the villages in the Etawah project was not so much
of the poverty and still backward conditions as of the great
dignity of the people and their determination to build a
better future.
In one village I sat and listened while a group of white-
robed men, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of
me, told me through an interpreter what they felt the
village needed to become self-sustaining. There was one
tree to give us shade, and on a table near the tree was a
small musical instrument, something like an accordion,
which was evidently used at village celebrations. The heat
was great; around us were the buildings made of mud. Just
behind me was the schoolhouse, a long, low shedlike build-
ing with a hard-packed dirt floor which the villagers had
built themselves. The children, who had been let out of
school for our visit, were sitting on the ground in front of it.
As the men talked, I found that a great deal of what they
needed was already within their grasp. They were not asking
for charity, but only that water for their fields be made
available, and the seeds and fertilizer that would enable them
to grow better wheat. Given these, they would do the job
themselves.
The Changing India
The Ford Foundation has one of its fine training schools
in this area, where the young men who want to serve India
by working with the villagers are learning from Indian
teachers modern methods of agriculture, soil science, con-
servation and sanitation, how to put down a tube well, build
an irrigation ditch, repair a broken plow or a hand pump
and in general to do whatever comes to hand. Many of
these men have already graduated from the universities
where they took their academic training, for in addition to
being jacks of all trades they are expected to become
teachers who will pass on to others what they have learned,
in a kind of snowballing process. Their hours are long and
hard, for besides studying and working all day in the
field, they take full charge of their own quarters and their
own needs, and at night gather the men of the villages
around them and by lantern light teach them the rudiments
of reading, writing and arithmetic.
Yet the happiest, most alert faces I saw in India were
those of the young men being trained in this school. Men
are weary after a day's work in the fields of India, but
these were a dedicated group. Their work was for India
and her people.
At Etawah the people have learned the value of co-opera-
tion. The joint family system in India has always been a
co-operative affair with the labor and earnings of all the
members contributing to the support of the unit. But co-
operation among the families of a village or among the
villages of a district is new. Now they are discovering the
[129!
India and the Awakening East
advantage of pooling their resources, both in money and
labor, to obtain for the village as a whole to the ultimate
benefit of each family things no one family could manage
alone. Together they are building schools and roads, estab-
lishing village industries, like brick kilns or hand-looming
centers, putting in a tube well or buying a small tractor or
steel plow that all can use.
To my mind the most important thing about the Etawah
project is that it is not simply a brave but lone experiment.
As part of its Five Year Plan, the government of India has
now launched the same kind of integrated development pro-
gram in fifty-five other areas, embracing about eleven million
people in all. If they can keep to their present schedule,
they plan to open more projects each year until by 1960 all
of India's farm population has been reached. As at Etawah,
the program covers every aspect of village economy educa-
tion, sanitation, health and home industries as well as crop
production; and the aim is to enable each village to become
self-sustaining within three or four years.
Very sensibly, I think, a large part of the $54^ million
allocated for Point Four aid to India in 1952 has been
put into helping her with this Community Projects program,
on which a big chunk of her own budget is being spent.
India is spending even more on developing her irrigation
and power systems, for without adequate water her
farm program could not succeed. Point Four is helping
here too, supplying experts and technical assistance. Present
The Changing India
wells and reservoirs are being deepened and widened, and
new ones dug. Plans also call for sinking about three thou-
sand tube wells during the next two years to tap the sub-
surface water. We saw one of these being drilled at Etawah;
each of them, I am told, will irrigate something like four
hundred acres. These are in addition to the huge river valley
development schemes for power, irrigation and flood con-
trol, which are along the lines of our TVA. Three of these
huge multipurpose dams, at Bhakra Nangal, Hirakud and
in the Damodar Valley, will by themselves irrigate an
additional seven million acres. The first units of the Dam-
odar Valley project in Bihar are already in operation; the
power generated here will open up for development the
richest mineral fields in India, and will feed the industries
of eastern India. Up in the north in the foothills of the
Himalayas the Bhakra Nangal project for harnessing the
Sutiej River will reclaim many thousands of acres that are
now arid and make them practical for refugee resettlement.
It will also furnish over a million kilowatts of power to New
Delhi and other cities in the region. That is almost as much
as India's entire output at present. I did not see any of these
projects myself but there is no question they are on a really
gigantic scale. One of the dams over the Sutlej, I was told,
will be almost as large as our Boulder Dam. And there are
a number of smaller such developments under way as well
most notably perhaps, the mile-and-a-half granite dam
over the Tungabhadra River.
India and the Awakening East
Point Four aid is also enabling India to import fertilizer
for her fields and to develop her own fertilizer industry. A
new chemical fertilizer plant at Sindri is already producing
a thousand tons a day. Other Point Four money is going
into insecticides, jeeps, spray guns for the government's
attack on malaria; and financing technical training for In-
dian students in this country.
I have gone into this in detail not only because I want to
convey some idea of the really superhuman effort India is
making she is literally lifting herself up by her bootstraps
but because I find people often do not understand how
Point Four aid is applied, nor realize that the money we
furnish in materials and technical assistance is more than
matched by the contribution of the country we are helping.
Faridabad, not far from Delhi, offers another heartening
demonstration of the initiative and enterprise with which
India is meeting her problems, Faridabad is a city of
refugees, built for and by the refugees themselves. With its
homes, schools, hospital, shops and local industries, it serves
as a cultural and industrial center for the outlying villages.
I was reminded of the rural industrial homestead projects
we started during the depression, and learned that they
were having to cope with some of the same difficulties we
encountered, particularly the problem of developing indus-
tries in an area where adequate transportation is lacking.
Faridabad is being built and developed under the direc-
tion of a very remarkable man, Mr. Sudhir Ghosh, whose
enthusiasm inspires one with confidence. A Cambridge Uni-
The Changing India
versity graduate, Mr. Ghosh had served Gandhi with great
tact and intelligence as a kind of liaison man with the
British during the negotiations over independence. Last
spring he came to the United States and appeared before
various Congressional groups to whom he described the
work being done at Faridabad; he also made a thorough
study of new community developments in this country.
To anyone familiar with Indian customs, perhaps the
most amazing and encouraging feature of Faridabad is the
fact that here people of all castes have been working to-
gether. The caste system has been a divisive force in India,
imprisoning people in tightly restricted social compart-
ments. Some castes have a religious, tribal or racial founda-
tion; but in the main the four major traditional divisions are
along occupational lines. At the top are the Brahmans (this
is Nehru's caste), the priests, scholars and teachers; then
come the Kshatriyas, the ruler-soldier classes; below them
are the Vaisyas, the middle-class farm owners, traders, busi-
nessmen, artisans, shopkeepers and merchants of all kinds.
This is the caste into which Gandhi was born. The fourth
caste are the Sudras, the working class servants, peasants
and plain people in general. Each of these four large groups
is divided into hundreds of subcastes and sub-subcastes, all
having their particular occupational privileges and duties.
Below them all, at the very bottom of the pile, come India's
eighty million Outcastes the people belonging to no caste
at all ? the Untouchables.
Caste traditions govern social life and behavior, as well as
India and the Awakening East
occupation. An orthodox Hindu of one caste would not, for
instance, marry into a caste below his; indeed he would not
eat or drink with someone of another caste. There is no way
a person can climb out of his caste into a higher one. In the
past, Untouchables could not drink from the public well,
enter the temples or other public places. They lived in re-
stricted communities and the children were segregated in
the schools; even the shadow of an Untouchable was sup-
posed to be contaminating.
Gandhi, as everyone knows, crusaded against Untouch-
ability. He called the Untouchables "Harijans" children
of God and made his home among them. Nehru has long
denounced the caste system; its restrictions are ignored by
many liberal and upper-class Indians. The new Constitution
abolishes Untouchability and guarantees all people equal
rights before the law. But, as we know in our own country,
it is one thing to abolish discrimination in the Constitu-
tion and another to put it into nation-wide practice, and in
India, particularly in the villages, it will probably be a long
time before caste distinctions entirely disappear. Faridabad,
however, proves that it is possible; here Brahmans, Ksha-
triyas, Vaisyas, Sudras and Untouchables are building and
working side by side.
m
After our first two days in New Delhi we started by air on
a trip that was to take us over a good part of India before
The Changing India
we returned to the capital. At my request, and upon his
warm invitation we had arranged a visit to the Jam Saheb
of Nawanagar, who had on several occasions served on the
Indian delegation to the UN, where he was much liked and
respected by those who worked with him.
The Jam Saheb is the Rajpramukh or Governor of
Saurashtra, an Indian state formed by the union of 217
former princely states on the Kathiawar Peninsula in north-
west India. A number of similar mergers took place shortly
after India gained her independence, when various blocs
of princely states some as large as a number of European
countries, some less than a square mile were consolidated
into single units for the purpose of more efficient and demo-
cratic administration. At the time of union, one of the more
important princes was elected Rajpramukh and a popular
state ministry installed.
The Jam Saheb had at one time, in the days before India's
independence, served as Chancellor of the Chamber of
Princes, a consultative body made up of most of the rulers
of the princely states. He is a jolly, friendly man, quite
portly, who unquestionably likes and can afford the good
things of life, but everything I saw on my visit bore out his
reputation as an exceedingly intelligent and enlightened
administrator. One rapidly acquires the conviction that here
is one of the men who will play an important part in build-
ing India into a modern state.
Just to find ourselves in his fabulous guesthouse was in
India and the Awakening East
itself an experience. It was more like a palace than a house,
with verandas, wide corridors and enormous rooms. I had a
sitting room so large I could not find where to turn out the
lights, a bedroom and a most elaborate bathroom with so
many fixtures and gadgets that I was completely baffled. I
finally had to get someone to show me how to run my bath.
The Maharani is a charming woman and a delightful
hostess, very quiet and competent, and in full control of her
household and her servants and incidentally, I think, of
her husband and children. She has never accompanied her
husband on his visits to the United States, but she told me
she is looking forward to coming someday. She knows a
great deal about cattle and farming and during her hus-
band's absences she supervises the management of the
property.
She has also made a special study of Indian medical lore,
and gave me a book on Indian medicine which she felt
contained much that might be useful in modern medical
practice. Later we visited the hospital and medical school
and library, in which the Maharani takes great interest, and
saw an extraordinary collection of medicinal herbs and
plants. One of the men we talked to here could neither
read nor write, but he knew every conceivable plant and its
use. We also saw their collection of old manuscripts and
books dealing with Indian medicine and were presented
with several very fine volumes. I was particularly interested
in the construction of the hospital built by the Maharani
The Changing India
and Jam Saheb: it pivots on an enormous rotating table so
that the rooms may get the full benefit of the sun at all
times of day.
Before dinner we were entertained by some charming and
graceful dances performed by young women and children;
and after dinner by another dance exhibition, but of a
very different kind. We were to see many types of dancing
during our visit to India, but this one we enjoyed especially.
For this the Jam Saheb had brought in his fanners and some
of the fishermen who live in the mountains that run down
to the sea. I was fascinated by the dance of the fishermen
a remarkable rhythmic portrayal of rowing.
After the dances were over and I asked if I might thank
the men for the pleasure they had given me, I received my
first insight into the changes coming about in the caste
system. The Jam Saheb called all the dancers over, but I
noticed that only a few of the fishermen came. In translat-
ing my words of thanks, the Jam Saheb touched one of
them on the shoulder, and afterward a government official
observed to me: "How happy that man must be. It was
probably the first time in his life that his prince has touched
him/' On inquiring further I learned that fishermen are
Outcastes and that the prince probably would never have
touched one before the stigma was abolished by the Con-
stitution. That was also the reason so many of the group
had hung back, thinking they still would not be welcome.
The next morning the Jam Saheb came over to the guest-
India and the Awakening East
house to have breakfast with us and afterward we set out on
a tour of some of the villages. They were well worth seeing.
They were clean and well kept, and everywhere the people
apparently had enough to eat. The women carried beautiful
copper jars on their heads going to and fro for water, and
the roads and fields were made gay by the bright, cheerful
colors of their cotton saris. The cattle were segregated away
from the houses; cow dung was not used exclusively for
fuel, nor was it piled up on the roofs or against the walls
of the houses. As a consequence there were far fewer flies
than in any place I had been. In one village the people
showed us how on special occasions they decorated their
cattle with wonderful embroidered saddle cloths, bridles,
painted horns and streamers of paper flowers.
We were shown several different kinds of houses. Those
of people who were fairly well off always had a good-sized
court and several rooms, one set apart for cooking, with
comparatively elaborate furnishings in the way of carved
chests, quilts and copper utensils. People of just ordinary
means had two-room houses and naturally fewer belong-
ings; while the really poor lived in one-room huts with a
mud floor and usually only a door to let in the light
In one of the poorest villages we saw, the people all lived
in round thatched huts, very difficult to enter. The babies
sleep in woven swings. I had seen these before in other
homes, and a doctor told me that though they invariably
make the babies round-shouldered, they are widely used.
The Changing India
However, they must outgrow this, for they seem to develop
a good posture, particularly the women, who have to carry
heavy loads on their heads. These particular villagers earn
a meager living by making toothbrushes out of a stiff reed
that grows in the vicinity, and they also raise a few vege-
tables in tiny plots.
At noon we returned for luncheon at the Jam Saheb's
house, and then left most reluctantly and somewhat behind
schedule for our flight to Bombay.
rv
Not until we were in the air were we told that the trip
would take longer than we had thought because the pilot
had been instructed not to fly me over the water. This
meant making a considerable detour, and was a precaution
taken for my safety that considering I have flown hundreds
of thousands of miles over water was by no means neces-
sary. Nevertheless, I could not persuade the pilot to dis-
regard his orders, so our arrival in Bombay was delayed.
I was to attend a large formal reception and tea, given by
the Sherif of Bombay, and, of course, expected to go from
the airfield to Government House where we were to stay and
where I would have an opportunity to change my clothes.
I had on a linen dress and white tennis shoes which had
been appropriate for my tour of the villages during the
morning, but were highly inappropriate for a large and
formal afternoon reception. However, on landing I was
Indict and the Awakening East
met by a number of officials who firmly told me that I
must proceed at once to the party, so I went just as I was,
feeling that it was more impolite to keep people waiting
than to appear in the wrong kind of clothes.
When I find myself in a position of this kind, I remem-
ber how Uncle Ted (President Theodore Roosevelt) used
to chuckle at Aunt Edith's ability to forget what clothes
she had on when they were traveling in Europe and being
invited to all kinds of royal parties. He told us of one par-
ticular occasion when they had been invited to dine with
the Kaiser, and Aunt Edith's bags did not arrive. She had
to go to the dinner in the traveling clothes she had worn
all day but, according to Uncle Ted, she seemed perfectly
comfortable and unconscious of any discrepancy in her
attire.
It was at the Sheriffs reception that, when I found I
could not possibly shake hands with everyone present, I
used for the first time the Indian greeting, putting my hands
together in front of me and bowing, as I had seen the Indian
women do. As we were leaving the hall where everybody
was having tea, I was asked to go out on the balcony and
greet the huge crowd that had gathered outside the hotel.
Again there was nothing I could do except repeat the gesture
as I looked down at the people, but it seemed to please
them very much.
When I got into the car we could not at first get started
because of the way the crowd pressed in around us. Finally
[140]
The Changing India
we began to move and I stood up in order to see as many
people as possible. The size of the crowds enforced a kind
of stop-and-start-again progress, and at one point a lurch
of the car made me sit down rather suddenly. The news-
paper accounts of this made it sound as though it had been
due to illness or overfatigue, whereas it was nothing in the
world but an unavoidable loss of balance. At last we got
out of the crowd and drove to Government House where we
rejoined the others of my party, who were resting and cooling
off before our dinner with the Governor of Bombay and
his wife.
The first morning I woke in Government House and
looked out I was struck by the beauty of the gardens and
the landscaping in general. Bombay is beautifully situated
on the water actually it is on an island just off the coast
and its homes and wide streets are shaded by big trees of
many kinds jacarandas, acacias and other unfamiliar
flowering varieties. Birds seem to be everywhere green
parakeets, mynahs, vividly colored chattering parrots. Here
and there, built up against a garden wall or even a house
wall, I noticed a number of little huts made of straw
matting, the wall serving as the back. I thought at first that
these must be the homes of refugees, but learned that they
were occupied by gypsies, nomadic tribes or anyone who
wanted a temporary shelter.
As we drove about the city, I noticed that the workmen
carried little three-tiered lunch pails, and I was so fascinated
India and the Awakening East
by them I finally bought one and sent it home for use on
picnics.
On another of our drives along the shore I asked to be
permitted to board one of the picturesque fishing boats
drawn up at the docks and loaded for a coast-wise trip.
I should also very much have liked to examine the rigging
of the sailboats at close hand they seemed to have two
sails, one very, very large but this I never had a chance
to do.
Bombay is the home of most of India's hundred thousand
Parsees. The Parsees are Zoroastrians who fled from Persia
at the time of the Arab invasion in the eighth century and
came to India in search of religious freedom. They are per-
haps the smallest religious community in the world, but
their influence has been out of proportion to their numbers.
Enterprising and quick to adopt Western education, they
have had considerable commercial success and furnished
India with many of her leading citizens.
Back in 1868 an Indian from Bombay named Jamshedji
Tata, a descendant of Parsee priests, laid the foundations for
what has since become one of the largest, if not the largest,
industrial empires in India. Its iron and steel works at
Jamshedpur, which little more than forty years ago was
jungle, is one of the biggest in the world. Other Tata in-
terests now include locomotive factories, factories where
engineering equipment, machine tools, agricultural imple-
ments are made, cotton mills, hydroelectric companies,
Mrs. Roosevelt during a visit to Saurashtra, India, as the guest of the Rajpramukh,
the Jam Saheb of Nawanagar (shown at extreme right of upper picture). Below:
She inspects a thatched hut in one of the poorer villages in Saurashtra.
Above: President Soekarno of Indonesia shows Mrs. Roosevelt his collection of
modern paintings. Below: Stopping briefly in the Philippines, Mrs. Roosevelt talks
with President Quirino at Malacanan Palace.
The Changing India
chemical plants, air lines and hotels to mention only some
of them. What I was interested to learn, however, is that
four-fifths of Tata's capital is held by charitable trusts
endowed by members of the family, and the profits earned
on it thus go back to the people of India.
We visited one of their institutions in Bombav the Tata
*
Institute of Social Sciences, where graduates of Indian uni-
versities are given two and a half years of specialized train-
ing in professional social work, a service desperately needed.
The Institute also maintains a child guidance clinic, where
the students gather practical experience. Another Tata
philanthropy in Bombay although of a very different
nature is an institute for research in physics, mathematics
and cosmic radiation and similar sciences; and in Bangalore
they have established an institute for technical research.
Another of their charitable trusts built a hospital that
specializes in the treatment of cancer, others supply funds
for research in various diseases and provide scholarships for
graduate study abroad. StiU other funds are devoted to social
welfare and to the relief of poverty and distress wherever
it is needed. The idea of the original founder, back when it
was not easy of realization, was that Indians should supply
India's needs.
One afternoon while we were in Bombay we were sched-
uled to go with the Governor and the Maharani to hear a
concert by Yehudi Menuhin, who with his wife was also
staying at Government House. Before the concert, however,
India and the Awakening East
I had to attend a meeting with Madame Pandit. After I
had finished my speech and while she was making hers I
realized it was getting close to concert time, and began to
worry about making the others late. But since Madame
Pandit was going directly to the train after the meeting,
it seemed rude to leave while she was speaking and not to
wait to say good-by; so I sat nervously on the edge of my
chair until she finished, then said my farewell and literally
ran. Fortunately, when I got back to Government House
I found that tihe Governor who informed everyone that
he had never in his life been late for any performance had
given me up and gone on ahead, leaving Miss Corr and Dr.
Gurewitsch to wait for me. We got in just at the end of the
first number, and enjoyed every minute of the rest of the
concert. Mr. Menuhin played beautifully and was given a
tremendous ovation. He pretty well covered India on this
trip we met him again in one of the southern cities
and was received with the same enthusiasm wherever he
went.
The Governor's wife, Her Excellency the Rani Maharaj
Singh, was much interested in the activities of the various
groups belonging to the All-India Women's Conference,
and through her I was able to see something of the work
they are doing. One of their services has been to organize
educational classes for the women in the slum areas. Often
bringing their babies with them, the women meet in each
others little apartments and sit on the floor as they study
the rudiments of reading and writing. By apartments I mean
The Changing India
one room, for in the city tenements no family has more. It
did not surprise me that special classes had to be arranged for
these women, for I had akeady learned in the villages that
men and women study separately.
The most touching thing that happened to me during
my whole stay in Bombay occurred when I went to visit
one of these classes in the slums. A Bombay merchant, I
suppose thinking it would not be fitting for me to see the
rickety stairs leading up to the little room, presented the
group with a bolt of white China silk, which was unrolled
for me to walk on, from the edge of the sidewalk all the
way up the stairs and into the room.
The same woman who was so active in organizing these
classes had also started a restaurant where cheap but
nourishing meals were available. Here they were also mak-
ing an effort to accustom the people to eating certain un-
rationed cereals and vegetables that were not a part of their
usual diet but that were a little easier to obtain. A number
of similar restaurants financed by civic-minded groups have
been opened in other parts of India, and must be a boon to
white-collar workers on low salaries who must, nevertheless,
keep up a good appearance.
The next to the last night I was in Bombay I had an ex-
perience that in retrospect is funnier than I thought it at the
time. As it happens I am not very fond of bugs or spiders or
snakes or mice; so before I got in bed at night I would make
a thorough inspection to be certain that anything of this
nature was outside and not inside the wonderful nets under
India and the Awakening East
which one always sleeps in India, and after I was in bed, I
would carefully tuck the net in around me. That par-
ticular night, however, after I had turned out my light and
been asleep only a brief time, I woke with the feeling that
something light and soft and velvety had brushed against
my forehead and hair. I moved quickly and reached for
the lamp pull and turned on the light. Nothing seemed to
be there. I put the light out again and tried to go to sleep.
In a few minutes I felt something actually running over my
body and I leaped from the bed, lit the light again and prac-
tically did my bed over.
I finally made up my mind that there must be a mouse
hidden somewhere which I could not find. As it was very
late I could not very well arouse anyone to inquire whether
mice were apt to run over one in the night, so I decided my
light would stay lit until morning. As a result I had very
little sleep. The next day I inquired of one of the boys
who seemed to understand a little English whether there
were many kinds of bugs or mice that might come indoors.
Smiling broadly, he said yes. I was not quite sure that he
had understood me, but I was left with the rather uncom-
fortable feeling that they might come in greater numbers,
and I still had one more night in Bombay. That night I
took more elaborate precautions and looked everywhere
before I went to bed. Perhaps I was too tired to feel what-
ever it was that was running around, if anything did; but
after I put out my light I didn't wake up until morning.
The Changing India
I have to record that I never saw a snake all the time I
was in India, except in Agra where the snake charmers
performed for us. Then I had a feeling that the snakes
were doped. One of them started to make its way very
slowly toward us. I had watched fascinated as a cobra
swayed in front of the flute-player, but I had no desire to
be anywhere near them myself, and I was very glad when
the one crawling our way was captured and returned to its
basket Handling snakes would not, for me, be an enjoyable
way to earn my living.
Before I left Bombay I had a chance to meet and talk
with the Prime Minister's sister and brother-in-law. Raja
Hutheesing is a noted Indian journalist with at that time
at least decidedly left-wing sympathies. He was one of
the people chosen to go on the official mission to Red
China, headed by Madame Pandit, to return the visit a
Chinese group had made to India. His selection seemed
to me a wise choice for he would go with an open, even a
sympathetic mind, and his report the bad as well as the
good would be credited. As it turned out, I believe, what
he saw in China changed his mind; for he found glaring
discrepancies between the extravagant propaganda claims
and the realities.
From Bombay we headed south for Trivandrum, the
capital of the state of Travancore-Cochin. This is the south-
[H7l
India and the Awakening East
west tip of India, and luxuriantly tropical country. As we
flew down the coast I noticed what looked like a long
lagoon or kind of inland waterway, such as the one that
runs down our Florida coast. The water was dotted with
numbers of fishing craft with huge nets hanging from the
masts and little copra-filled boats covered with matting in
the stern, propelled by a stern oar and a man with a pole
at the bow. I decided then it would be fun to see something
of the canal life, so when I learned on reaching Government
House that there was no fixed program for the afternoon,
I joyfully said I should like to drive through the country
and go out on the canal in one of the little boats.
Trivandrum is charming, small, very clean and tidy, and
its roads are bordered with tropical trees and shrubs. It is
densely populated, however, so that driving anywhere has
one unpleasant feature: You are obliged to honk your horn
incessantly to clear a way through the crowded streets and
roads. Very little attention is paid to the honks, but they
do help to open up a path now and then. It makes things
most disagreeable as far as conversation is concerned and
you have an uncomfortable feeling that you must be making
anything but a pleasant impression on the people you are
shoving aside so that you may pass more quickly. However,
nobody seems to mind.
We ended up finally at what seemed to be some kind of
boat club. There were many interesting-looking river boats
about, and I should have liked to go aboard one, but a row-
The Changing India
boat and a motorboat were waiting at the dock for us. As
we were getting out of the car, our local Indian escort
suddenly said: "Madame is expected at a reception this
afternoon."
I looked a little surprised and said: "Is there a reception?
There is nothing on my schedule/' Then, deciding it must
be simply a social affair, I said: "It will not matter if I am
a little late/' and stepped into the boat.
The natives evidently were not accustomed to rowing, so
Mr. Atal, my Foreign Office escort throughout the trip,
and Dr. Gurewitsch took over the oars. We were out for
about half an hour. Along the shore were little huts and
swarms of children, with the peculiarly fat little bellies that
tell of undernourishment. We saw more of the small copra
boats and many odd varieties of birds and fish. I was enjoy-
ing it all thoroughly, but still I had an uneasy feeling, so
as soon as we got back to shore I hopped out, told the others
to have a good time and do anything they wanted to, and
made my way immediately to niy now frantic guide and
said I was ready for the reception. Then haltingly he told
me that this was a formal reception of welcome, given by
the governor of the state. Again I had to consider whether
I should go back to Government House and change into
formal clothes, having already kept people waiting, or go
as I was. I decided not to take the time to change; but
even so everyone had been waiting nearly half an hour by
the time I arrived far longer than I had kept the people
[M9]
India and the Awakening East
waiting in Bombay. I am sure they were annoyed, and I
really suffered, but they were very kind and I felt forgiven
after I had made my apologies. It was obvious that they
had made elaborate preparations. Two children sang "The
Star-Spangled Banner" and then the Indian national an-
them. I was formally greeted and after I made my speech
in return, I received the freedom of the city, written on a
scroll contained within a beautifully carved ivory box.
With each new attention I felt increasingly guilty.
That evening we dined with His Highness, the Raj-
pramukh of Travancore-Cochin. Travancore had seemed to
me such a prosperous and tropically lush country its very
name means "Where the Goddess of Prosperity Dwells"
that I could hardly believe it when I was told that here too
food was a serious problem. The arable land does not raise
more than 40 per cent of the food they need and in the
past few years they have suffered a serious drought. Coconut
trees are their most valuable crop, furnishing not only copra,
the dried meat from which coconut oil is pressed, but fiber
for rope, while the inner shell of the coconut can be burned
for fuel. Even the leaves of the tree are used to thatch
roofs or are woven into mats or the broad-brimmed hats so
many of the people wear.
They explained to us at dinner the unique and curious
system of succession in the royal families of Travancore
and Cochin. It has elements of a matriarchy in that, though
a man is always the ruler, the succession is through the fe-
The Changing India
male side of the family. The Maharajah is followed on the
throne not by his son, but by his brothers in order of their
age. When there are no more brothers, succession passes to
the sons of their mother's sisters that is, the oldest male
cousin. When these are exhausted, the sons of the next
female generation take up the succession. Under this sys-
tem a woman remains in her own home when she marries,
and her children are supported by her family; her husband
lives in her home or not, as he chooses.
We were entertained that evening with some of the most
superb dancing and acting we saw on the entire trip. Won-
derfully costumed and masked, the performers enacted an
old folk tale something like an early morality play deal-
ing with the sin of personal pride and its inevitable down-
fall. As in all Indian dancing and acting, every least gesture
and movement has a special meaning and is carefully
learned. We were told that no dancer, as the actors are all
called, is allowed to appear in a play until he has had at
least eight years of training.
The people of southern India are much darker than they
are in other parts of the country. They are descendants of
the Dravidian tribes who were living in India even before
the Aryans from the north made their way down through the
Khyber Pass about four thousand years ago. It is here
in south India too that almost half of the country's six mil-
lion Christians are concentrated. St. Thomas the "doubt-
ing Thomas'* of the Bible is believed by many to have
India and the Awakening East
been the first Christian to come to India; it is said he landed
on the coast of Travancore, converted many Brahmans to
Christianity and built a number of churches. According to
the same tradition, he died in India a martyr on his return
from a trip to China and is buried not far from Madras.
.^ Among her other distinctions, Travancore has the high-
est literacy rate in India 50 per cent compared to an
average of 10 per cent for the rest of the country. More than
60 per cent of her children now attend school. Elementary
education is free up to the fifth grade; after that one rupee
a month about twenty cents is charged for each child
in what they call the secondary schools. )
In no part of India are the country schools difficult to
furnish. One room contains all the classes, which are ar-
ranged by age groups. The children sit on the ground, each
class forming a separate square and having its own teacher
and a single blackboard on which the teacher illustrates the
lesson. A few of the children I* saw had slates an envied
possession but most of them had homemade wooden
writing boards pieces of wood cut to the size of a slate,
and rubbed and polished with grease and soot until they are
dark and smooth. They have very few books, and what they
have pass from child to child. Conditions vary of course
from village to village; some schools may have only one
teacher for all the children. Anyone who has seen the play,
The King and I, will realize what teaching under these
circumstances is like. ?
The Changing India
Under the British the rate of literacy actually fell in
India. English was the official language; the study of Eng-
lish was emphasized in the schools, and preference in em-
ployment was given to those who knew English. It was an
understandable policy from the British point of view, but
it resulted in the decline of Indian schools and the study
of Indian languages. *
Now, however, as part of her Five Year Plan, India ka
drawn up a program to make education free and compulsory
for all children between six and fourteen years old. This
means she will need about two million teachers and thou-
sands of new schools; yet despite the tremendous expendi-
ture this entails at a time when there are so many other
urgent demands on the budget, the present aim is to reach
this goal by 1965. At the same time India is increasing the
number of her high schools and universities and improving
their standards! (At present she has twenty-eight universi-
ties, over four hundred colleges, seventy-four women's col-
leges and forty teachers 7 colleges.) To help fill the great
need for technicians, agricultural experts and scientists
of all kinds, she is enlarging her present professional and
technological institutes (of which there are now about one
hundred) and building new ones. The Indian government
is sending some of its top educators over here to study the
establishment of agricultural schools in connection with
their universities and to explore the American educational
system in general.
India and the Awakening East
In addition, India is struggling to give its whole popula-
tion a complete basic education through its provincial social
service program. The aim of this is not simply to teach all
adults to read and write, but also to give them instruction
in personal and public health, and citizenship, and to give
them the practical knowledge that will enable them to
better their economic status. This last, aside from training
in improved farm practices, involves a revival of the old
arts and handicrafts such as spinning, weaving, brick-
making and the like. To stimulate interest, they have re-
cently begun using educational caravans, which travel from
village to village, putting on plays and exhibits of various
kinds, showing educational movies and distributing simple
instructions which make it possible for the villagers them-
selves to carry out in practice what they have seen.
Both UNESCO and Point Four are working with the
Indian government to forward its educational program; and,
while it may be some years perhaps even longer than they
think before all their goals are achieved, this is from the
long-range point of view probably the most important
project the government has in hand.
Leaving Trivandrum for Mysore, we made a detour to
fly over Cape Comorin, the southern tip of India, where
the waters of the Indian Ocean, the Arabian Sea and the
Bay of Bengal meet. I strained my eyes to get a glimpse of
Ceylon, but I could not fool myself into thinking I saw
even the shore line.
The Changing Indict
Mysore seemed to me a very modern town, with many
beautiful parks and wide, clean streets, bordered by well-
cared-for lawns and hedges. Incidentally, the only tiger we
saw on the entire trip was here in a zoo.
The state of Mysore was fortunate in having an enlight-
ened ruling family who also chose wise advisers. Under their
administration it had become, by the time it acceded to
India, one of the most progressive states in the country. It
has many state-owned industries, extensive irrigation works,
a good system of roads and railroads, fine hospitals, a high
standard of sanitation and like Travancore, one of the
highest literacy rates in India. It is the source of most of
India's gold and much of her iron and manganese and
chrome.
In the afternoon H. C. Dasappa, Mysore's finance min-
ister, took us outside the city to see the beautiful Cham-
undi Temple on the top of a high hill. Part way up the
hill is one of the finest pieces of sculpture I have ever seen
anywhere the enormous monolithic Chamundi Bull. He
is lying down, his fine head and chest well thrown back,
and one front leg arched so that it barely clears the ground.
If you crawl through the arch and make a wish, so tradition
goes, your wish will come true. I did it, hopefully, but so
far tradition has let me down. The rest of the group followed
me on hands and knees, but I haven't learned whether their
wishes came true or not.
From the Chamundi Temple we drove to the Krish-
India and the Awakening East
narajsegar Dam over the Cauvery River. Behind the dam
are extraordinarily beautiful gardens and lakes and foun-
tains, which at night are illuminated in a display as gorgeous
as anything at Versailles. On the high ground overlooking
the dam is a hotel to which people come from all over to
witness the spectacle.
We drove as far as we could go, then got out of the cars
and strolled through the gardens, finally taking a boat across
the lake to get back to where the cars were waiting. Some
of the group, including Dr. Gurewitsch, stayed there to dine
and enjoy the cool air and the evening display; but I had to
get back, since the state government had arranged a formal
dinner for me that night. Mr. Dasappa and the other gov-
ernment officials who were escorting us never seemed wor-
ried about the hour, but the fact is that by the time we got
back and I had changed into my dinner clothes I was
again very late and had kept the other dinner guests waiting
a long while.
It was a delightful dinner. The orchestra was particularly
good and played a number of Indian songs which I thor-
oughly enjoyed and, of course, "The Star-Spangled
Banner." This was always included, and occasionally
rendered in a way that made it hard to recognize; but I
appreciated very deeply the desire to do my country honor.
As at all the luncheons and dinners I attended, various
people made kind and pleasant speeches, to which of course
I had to reply; I often wished that I had my husband's
facility for making apt and charming responses.
The Changing India
Early the next morning I went to speak to the students
at Mysore University, and then visited the Rockefeller
Foundation Research Institute. The director was away but
we talked to Dr. Richmond K. Anderson who is in charge of
the medical research being done there. As I think I have
said, the Rockefeller people are doing wonderful work in
India in malaria control; and they also have an excellent
training program for public health workers. In addition 7
the Foundation gives fellowships to students for training
abroad, and makes travel grants to public health officers for
visits to Europe and the United States and other parts of
India. I gathered, though, from talking to Dr. Anderson that
the number of trained workers is still desperately small and
must be multiplied many, many times before a really effec-
tive and over-all attack can be made on India's public health
problems.
When we left Mysore we were accompanied by Mr.
Dasappa, who took us on a sight-seeing tour that was to
end up in Bangalore. One of the most interesting things we
saw, from a historical point of view, was the old fort at
Seringapatam, where the great Moslem general, Tippoo
Sahib, was finally defeated by the British in 1799. Tippoo's
father, Hyder Ali, who was also a great military commander,
had seized control of Mysore from the ruling Hindu family
and had made himself Maharajah. This was the period
when the British and French were still contesting for
supremacy in India, and Hyder Ali generally sided with the
French, at the same time enlarging his own territory. He
India and the Awakening East
defeated the English in a number of battles, but was beaten
by Warren Hastings when he tried to conquer Madras.
After he died his son Tippoo succeeded him, and in turn
was defeated by Comwallis the same Cornwallis who had
earlier led the English armies against George Washington
when he invaded Travancore. His last battle against the
British was fought at Seringapatam, where he was killed
defending his capital. We were shown the place where the
British and their Indian allies were finally able to force an
entrance to the fort. The walls of the fort are several feet
thick, but there had to be an opening through which the
people inside could go out to get water. At this point, the
Water Gate, the defense was vulnerable; the British dis-
covered the weakness, and here they made their entry. After
the battle, Wellington then Colonel Wellesley was put
in command of the fort, and the Hindu rulers were restored
to power.
Before we started out that morning, knowing we had
some distance to cover and would be traveling dirt roads
most of the way, I had suggested that we take a picnic lunch
with us instead of stopping at a restaurant. India seemed to
me a place where picnicking should be a familiar form of
entertainment to everyone; but I realized later that most
of the year it is much too hot to make eating out-of-doors
enjoyable; then too, I suppose, there is some danger from
snakes and poisonous insects. However, I had given no
thought to this, nor to the fact that Indian food, unlike
The Changing India
sandwiches, is not easily packed, but my hosts were kind
enough to accede to my wish. It turned out to be not quite
the kind of picnic lunch I had expected. We stopped at
an exquisite Hindu temple Somnathpur beautifully
carved around the base and completely surrounded by a
lovely old colonnade. Happily I heard someone suggest
that we eat there under the colonnade, and then to my
surprise I immediately saw tables being set up, hampers
being unpacked and waiters running back and forth. My
picnic was just an elaborate meal out-of-doors. However, in
those unique surroundings, we enjoyed our meal very much
and time slipped by so fast we were late in leaving. Further
on we stopped again to look at the mosque of Jumma
Masjid, which is distinguished not only by its beautiful carv-
ings but by the fact that it has two minarets built close
together. Ordinarily the minarets are at the corners of the
surrounding square.
Everywhere and in all sorts of ways as I traveled about
India I was conscious of traces of the British influence in
the gardens, in the buildings, in the customs, in the histori-
cal markers noting the service of various British generals or
statesmen. Many who later achieved great distinction or
the highest possible military rank had their early training in
India. Architectural styles, a palace in Bangalore that is
a copy of a small section of Windsor Castle, looking very
out of place, a garden laid out by the same gardener who
kid out the gardens in Kew, near London, the habit of
[159]
India and the Awakening East
dining at eight or eight-thirty, of dressing for dinner,
the popularity of certain English sports, the use of English
as the official language such things as these attest to the
fact that the British once conquered and occupied the coun-
try.
But at the same time I kept being impressed by how little
real depth there was to this influence. The buildings, when
all is said and done, had to be adapted to the climate of
India and so, despite traces of British taste, are basically
Indian in feeling and style. British customs prevail chiefly
among the upper classes they haven't affected the way of
life of the majority; most of India's millions speak some
form of one of her fifteen different languages and have
little or no knowledge of English. In short, I do not think
that the occupation changed India fundamentally, nor did
it create any deep understanding between the English and
the Indians. The Indians who went to England for their
education, as many of the wealthy and intellectual classes
did, tried while they were there to be as much like the
English as possible; but it was an outward conformance.
They did not really change inside. It was characteristic of
the British to assume that this outward observance of man-
ners, customs and habits implied an inner acceptance and
belief. They are so convinced themselves that what they do
is right and their way of doing it preferable to any other
way that only here and there do you find an exceptional
Britisher who can project himself into the minds and feel-
The Changing India
ings of the people of a different race. For all the years of
occupation, they didn't change the soul and the spirit of
India, and even the most Anglicized of the Indians are
still fundamentally Indian and not British.
VI
All through my trip I had been hearing of the dreadful
famine conditions in the whole Madras area where, after
six years of drought, people were experiencing indescribable
hunger. The lucky ones were being kept alive on one little
bowl of gruel a day; others even boiled leaves to stay the
pangs of hunger. I had intended going there from Bangalore,
but I had begun to feel somewhat weary; also the constant
flying had affected my ears. They were bothering me con-
siderably, and I was deaf for a longer period after each
flight. My itinerary had been so planned that I would have
had to go far to the north and then return to Madras,
which would have meant many more hours of air travel.
Reluctantly I decided it would be wiser to travel at a more
leisurely pace, so we went directly to Hyderabad.
Hyderabad is one of the former princely states which
enjoyed a treaty relationship with Great Britain, whom it
recognized as the paramount power. It is governed by the
Nizam of Hyderabad (now the Rajpramukh), or to give
him his full title: His Exalted Highness Mir Osman Ali
Khan, Asaf Jah VII, Nizam of Hyderabad and Berar. A
legendary figure of enormous wealth and parsimonious
India and the Awakening East
habits, he had ruled Hyderabad almost as an Oriental
potentate with vast powers over his subjects. I was told
that he had an eye for the ladies, and when visiting would
frequently suggest that he would like to take one of his
host's daughters usually a particularly attractive one
under his protection, and ask that she be sent to the palace.
This often meant that the young lady was never seen again.
At the time India became independent, and the princely
states were, in effect, given the choice of joining either India
or Pakistan, the Nizam stalled and dillydallied. A devout
Moslem, and a direct descendant of the Mogul Emperor's
Viceroy, he had no desire to come under the control of
Hindu India even though 86 per cent of his subjects were
Hindus. Actually he wanted to be an independent monarch,,
with Hyderabad as his private and separate domain. How-
ever, anyone who studies the situation of Hyderabad, in the
very heart of India, can see how impossible this was. Its geo-
graphical position, its overwhelming Hindu population, the
fact that, though one of the largest and richest states in the
country, it was by no means self-sustaining, meant that its
interests and its very life were inextricably bound up with
India's. Nevertheless the Nizam continued to procrastinate
for a year, while relations between Hyderabad and India
grew steadily more tense. Not until September, 1948, after
a show of power and a "police action" on the part of India,
did he finally give in and bring Hyderabad into the Indian
union.
The Changing India
Mr. Vellodi, our host while we were there, is an adviser to
the Chief Minister of the state. His wife, an active member
of the All-India Women's Conference, is, as I quickly
found, keenly alive to the social and economic problems
of India and one of the many women I was fortunate in
meeting who recognized that they must assume a share of
the responsibility for solving them.
The first day we spent in Hyderabad was the beginning
of the Holi carnival, an ancient Indian festival when people
gather in the streets and throw brightly colored dyes at one
another. I understand that the dyes are made of talc tinted
with a color and mixed with crushed mica; whatever their
compostion they are most effective: the streets, people's
clothes and hair and skin are brilliantly stained for several
days. This first day of Holi the fun seemed fairly mild and
most of the participants were young people. Nevertheless,
having no spare clothes to throw away, we took no chances
and tried to stay out of the way of the revelers.
We drove through different parts of the city, and oc-
casionally got out and walked, taking pictures and looking
into shop windows. This I discovered later was an unheard
of procedure for a lady; she is supposed to stay in her car
or carriage and have the shopkeeper bring out to her what-
ever she wishes to see. We strolled down the street of the
silversmiths* looking at their wares, down a street where all
the lovely tinsel ornaments are made, and along another
street where beautiful silk embroidery is done. I was told
India and the Awakening East
that the people who do this exquisite work never use a
pattern; they know the designs so well they do not need to
trace them on the material.
Hyderabad is a walled city with, I believe, eight gates.
Toward the end of the day we visited one part of the fortifi-
cations surrounding the old capital. The light as the sun set
and the moon rose on the walls gave the scene a fairyland
look, and we climbed up inside the fort and stood on the
top of a wall that looked over the great plains. The next
day we went back and saw the main gate whose heavy doors
are studded with iron spikes. In the days when the fort was
built, back in the sixteenth century, elephants were often
used in battle, and during an attack acted as battering rams
to break down the doors of a fort. The purpose of the iron
spikes was to discourage them from making this kind of
charge.
As you come through the doors, there is a kind of arch-
way leading both to the right and to the left; either way
takes you eventually to the top of the hill and the last fort-
ress inside the outer walls. Any horse or even person pass-
ing through the arch creates an echo which can be heard on
top of the hill; this in the old days served to warn the
emperor or his generals of the approach of either friend or
foe.
We stopped at a large bathing pool which is the water
supply for the people of the villages inside the walls, and
where they also immerse themselves before performing
The Changing India
their religious rites. If you give a shout at the entrance to
the pool, here too an echo comes back three times from the
top of the hill.
At the end of the morning we lunched with the Prince of
Berar, the Nizam's heir. He is a youngish man and rather
stout. His wife spends much of her time in England with
their two sons, who are being educated there. The Prince
seems pleasant, but not particularly interested in anything
beyond his own affairs and surroundings. I rather doubt
whether he will develop into one of India's liberal leaders,
but it is always difficult to be sure until a man has had an
opportunity to give expression to his own interests. I sus-
pect that under his father the Prince is not in a position to
do much on his own.
During lunch I had to leave the table for a press con-
ference, which was quite a nuisance. However, this seemed
to mean a great deal to the newspaper people everywhere
I stopped, so I always tried to give them an opportunity to
question me.
vn
It was almost the middle of March when we arrived in
Aurangabad, after a rather bumpy flight, to begin an inter-
lude of several days for which I had no social engagements
at all, and planned only to see something of India's sculp-
tural treasures. Aurangabad is in the northwest part of the
state of Hyderabad, not far from the little village that is the
India and the Awakening East
site of the famous Ellora Caves. These are a series of rock
and cave temples and monasteries that extend for a mile
on the side of a hill They were literally hewn out of solid
rock by Brahman, Buddhist and Jain monks during the
seventh and eighth centuries. I had previously seen some
wonderful pictures of the caves in a book Yehudi Menuhiit
had allowed us to look over in Bombay, but they did not
in any way convey their real majesty. No pictures, no words,
could do justice to the work that has been done there.
When you arrive at the caves you are face to face with a
wall of rock in which there are a number of openings. As
you enter one you feel you must be going straight into the
mountainside, but once within you can look up at the sky.
Around the sides of the first cave is a gallery cut out of the
rock and in the center is a huge temple that was carved out
of a single mass of stone. On either side of the entrance are
two great elephants and two tall columns, and the roof of
the central hall is supp6rted by sixteen square pillars. All
around the temple, on all the surfaces and on the galleries of
the cave, are carved friezes showing mythological figures and
animals, or scenes of domestic life and worship. In all the
caves of the Buddhist and Jain groups (there are something
like thirty-four caves in all, I believe) were many carved
figures of Buddha and of Mahavira (the principal saint of
the Jains). I shall always remember one Buddha in par-
ticular for the remarkably calm and sweet expression on his
face. We lingered as long as possible, even viewing some of
The Changing India
the last caves by lantern light; and left finally, feeling that we
still had not seen anywhere near enough of this extraor-
dinary human achievement.
We had dinner and stayed the night at the guesthouse in
Aurangabad, a sort of hotel maintained by the government
for the benefit of the people who visit the caves. By eight-
thirty the next morning we were up and on our way to
Ajanta. Here there is another series of caves in the shape of
a horseshoe, dug out of the rock by Buddhist monks during
the fourth, fifth and sixth centuries. For hundreds of years
thereafter the existence of these caves was unknown, and
they were only discovered in the early nineteenth century
when some British soldiers were on maneuver. Since then
excavation has been carried on steadily, first by the British
and now by the Indians themselves, and an attempt is being
made to preserve and restore everything they can. We were
fortunate in being accompanied by the director of the
work, who showed us as much as it was possible to see in
one morning. The Ajanta Caves are especially known for
their frescoes of figures and landscapes executed with great
delicacy and amazing detail and in color that is almost
beyond belief. There are scenes depicting the life of Buddha,
the conquest of Ceylon; there are elephants and ships and
dancing girls and princesses and singers. In some places
only a patch of color remains, a fragment of a figure a
head or part of a gown; in other places whole scenes are
almost complete. Here, as at Ellora, as you study the stu-
India and the Awakening East
pendous excavations from solid rock, the beauty of the
carvings and frescoes, and then think of the tools that
were available to these early artist-monks, you marvel at the
infinite patience and industry and at the devotion that
achieved such testimony to the glory of their God.
I was in fact so impressed by what I had seen that the
following day, though we had to go on to Agra, I rose early
enough to make another quick visit to the Ellora Caves,
where in the early morning light I saw much that I had
missed before. Their effect on me was, I think, even more
overwhelming than it had been on first sight.
We arrived in Agra early enough in the afternoon to drive
out to an interesting, old sixteenth-century fort that was
built by Akbar, the grandson of Baber, the Asian prince
who established the first Moslem dynasty in India. Akbar
was probably the best and the wisest of Mogul emperors, a
daring and resourceful general who conquered large parts
of India, a tolerant and humane ruler who had the trust
of both Moslems and Hindus, and as nearly as possible in
that day unified the country. His courts at Agra and Delhi
were centers of learning, where musicians, writers and
artists of all sorts congregated. He was also the grandfather
of Shah Jehan, who came to power about the time Louis
XIV was king of France and the Massachusetts Bay Com-
pany was being established in America. And it was Shah
Jehan who built the Taj Mahal.
I must own that by the time we got to Agra I was be-
The Changing India
ginning to feel we had seen a great many forts and palaces
and temples and mosques. I realized that I was no longer
viewing them with the same freshness of interest and appre-
ciation that I had felt during the early part of my visit I
think the others felt much the same way, which may have
been one reason why we had all been talking more and
more about the fact that no letters from home were reach-
ing us. I had even cabled for news of my family. Therefore
when we got back to Government House after our visit to
Akbar's fort, though we knew we should leave immediately
to get our first glimpse of the Taj Mahal at sunset, we all
pounced on the letters we found waiting for us, and could
not tear ourselves away until the last one had been read.
Then, to our dismay, we found we had delayed too long; by
the time we got to the Taj about six-thirty the light was
beginning to fade.
What I have just said about feeling jaded cannot apply to
the Taj. As we came through the entrance gallery into the
walled garden and looked down the long series of oblong
pools in which the Taj and the dark cypresses are re-
flected, I held my breath, unable to speak in the face of so
much beauty. The white marble walls, inlaid with semi-
precious stones, seemed to take on a mauve tinge with the
coming night, and about halfway along I asked to be al-
lowed to sit down on one of the stone benches and just
look at it. The others walked on around, but I felt that this
first time I wanted to drink in its beauty from a distance.
India and the Awakening East
One does not want to talk and one cannot glibly say this is
a beautiful thing, but one's silence, I think, says this is a
beauty that enters the soul. With its minarets rising at each
corner, its dome and tapering spire, it creates a sense of airy,
almost floating lightness; looking at it, I decided I had never
known what perfect proportions were before.
Everyone, I imagine, knows the story of the Taj: how
Shah Jehan, who raised many beautiful palaces and tombs
and mosques, built this, the most perfect of all, as a tomb
for his lovely Persian wife, Mumtaz Mahal, so that in keep-
ing with the promise he had made her, her name might be
known forever. It is said he hoped sometime to build a
tomb for himself of black marble on the other side of the
river, to be connected to the Taj Mahal by a bridge. Be-
fore this dream was ever realized, however, he was deposed
by his youngest son, Aurangzeb, and imprisoned in a wing
of the palace. During his last days, so the story goes, he had
his bed carried out to one of the courts from where he
could look across at the tomb of the beautiful Mumtaz.
The white marble of the Taj symbolizes the purity of real
love; and somehow love and beauty seem close together in
this creation.
We returned in the evening to see it in the full moon-
light, as everyone says you should, and though each time I
saw it it was breath-taking, perhaps it was most beautiful
by moonlight. We could hardly -force ourselves to leave,
and looked at it from every side, unable to make up our
The Changing India
minds which was the most beautiful. I think though I
liked my view from the bench halfway down the reflecting
pools, possibly because water is so precious in India that it
enhances everything.
Early the next morning at seven-thirty to be exact
we visited the Taj again to see it in the clear daylight It
was still impressive and overwhelmingly lovely, but in a
different way; and the marble looked slightly pinkish, as
though it was being warmed by the sun.
As long as I live I shall carry in my mind the beauty of
the Taj, and at last I know why my father felt it was the
one unforgettable thing he had seen in India. He always
said it was the one thing he wanted us to see together.
vm
Our interlude of private sight-seeing over, we went on to
Jaipur, which is now the capital of Rajasthan, an immense
state in northern India formed by the union of the former
princely Rajput states. In the age scale of India's
cities, Jaipur is fairly modern, for it was founded in the
eighteenth century by Jai Singh who made it the capital of
his state. This was about the time the great Mogul empire
was beginning to fall apart, following the death of Aurang-
zeb, and India was entering some dark years. But Jai Singh
was a remarkable ruler: as a statesman he managed to keep
his territory intact; as a mathematician, scientist and astron-
omer he was familiar with the latest Western developments
India and the Awakening East
in his fields and established a number of fine observatories.
As a city planner he combined both taste and wisdom. The
city of Jaipur, which he designed, is surrounded by a high,
crenelated wall; its wide regular streets are laid out in a
kind of gridiron pattern, and all the buildings are painted
pink, sometimes with ornamentation in white. It is really
a delightful city, with a pleasant residential district and a
lovely palace whose grounds must cover fully a seventh of
the city area. The present Maharajah, who now governs
all Rajasthan as its Rajpramukh, is a progressive, well-
traveled and highly Westernized young man who keeps
very busy with his government duties. Holi, a harvest
festival, was still being celebrated when we were there, and
the Maharajah's clothes and skin, like those of everyone
else we saw, were thoroughly stained with many colors.
He told us they would simply have to wear off, for they
could not be washed away.
Mr. Atal, our Foreign Office guide, who seemed to have
relatives in many parts of India, told us that his father lived
in Jaipur and that his little boy was with him, attending
school. His wife we were to meet later in Allahabad, where
she was visiting her mother.
Mr. AtaFs father, we discovered, had a charming house
with many rooms, courts, and running water and above all
a wonderful rose garden. He makes a specialty of importing
roses from all over the world, and was importing some for
the gardens of Government House, which we saw later and
which are really spectacular.
The Changing India
Our Mr. Atal was trained in the Indian Civil Service
under the British; he was thoroughly familiar with Western
customs and Western ways of thinking, but he also had
a deep knowledge of his own country and his own people.
It was a combination that made him an excellent escort for
our trip and I felt very fortunate in having him with us.
The day we were in Jaipur he was as excited as any young
father might be to see his small son, and kept him with
us as much as he could during our brief visit.
The boy and his father had an accident the morning
we were there when their car was run into by a truck at a
cross street. It might easily have proved very serious, but
for a wonder neither was badly hurt, though both were
shaken up and suffered a considerable shock and reaction.
However, when they first told us about it, they made it
sound as though nothing important at all had happened.
We stayed with the Maharajah and his very charming
wife at Government House; and in the late afternoon drove
out about five miles to see the fine old palace in the deserted
city of Amber, which had been the capital before Jaipur
was built. Now, they told us, it is inhabited only by snakes
and tigers.
We had in Jaipur our only chance to ride on an elephant.
Miss Corr and Dr. Gurewitsch took it, and said it was
quite comfortable, but felt rather strange to move so slowly
and majestically high up in the air above everyone else. I
have been annoyed with myself ever since that I let myself
be kept from trying it
India and the Awakening East
In the days when the Indian principalities were more
or less independent, the prince of Jaipur used to hold
magnificent parades three times a year for the people. On
these occasions the elephants and horses and camels were
decked out in unbelievably gorgeous trappings, so elaborate
and so heavily ornamented that it took, I believe they said,
ten men to carry the caparison that went on an elephant
under the howdah or seat in which one rides. To my delight
they brought out all this equipment and put it on the
animals so we could see how they had looked in the parades.
I must say it is a pity that it is no longer used.
The last day we were there it was suggested, among the
possible choices, that we go out to see an old temple in the
woods near the city, inhabited by swarms and swarms of
monkeys who are attracted to it by the food they are given
by visitors. It was always difficult when we were given
alternatives, but I was glad we elected to see the monkeys.
Though they infest India, we had not so far happened to see
them in great numbers, and I found them extremely amus-
ing. Some of them behaved like naughty children and their
mothers cuffed them with resounding whacks which would
not have been approved of in modern education but which
seemed acceptable and decisive in the monkey world.
We were back at Government House in time for lunch,
after stopping for a moment to see a school for poor chil-
dren in which the Maharani was interested. Luncheon was
served in a charming summer house on a lawn surrounded
The Changing India
by high hedges. At the end of the garden a big tree shaded
an extremely modern California outdoor grill, which they
had recently imported from Hollywood. The Maharani was
distressed because it did not work well, so I tried to look
professional as I examined it, but it was so much more
elaborate than anything I have at home I could only tell her
that she would have to have a Californian explain it to her.
rx
Immediately after lunch in Jaipur we took off for New
Delhi, this time to stay at Government House with Presi-
dent Prasad. A gentle and quiet man, but with great strength
of character, Rajendra Prasad is deeply respected in India
for his long years of loyal service to the country. He had
been one of the outstanding leaders of the Congress Party
and close to Gandhi during the bitter struggle for freedom;
now, like the other leaders with whom he shares the
responsibility for shaping India's future, he is imbued with
a sense of India's importance and a feeling of urgency that
drives him to work much harder and longer than he knows
is wise. We all had tea with him in the afternoon and a
pleasant, quiet talk in which he drew me out about my trip
and told me something of his own problems.
In the evening Ambassador and Mrs. Bowles called for
us and we all went to the opening of The River, a wonderful
picture of India which I had seen previously in New York
City. I was interested to observe that beautiful as it was, it
India and the Awakening East
seemed to have less of an impact on this Indian audience
than on the audience in New York. The fact that the story
dealt largely with English people in India, and that the
scenes and background that were exotic and strange to
New Yorkers were daily familiar to these Indians would, I
expect, explain the difference in reaction.
On March 14, Mr. Atal and Madame Pandit went with
me by train to Aligarh, a city in Uttar Pradesh (formerly the
United Provinces) where I was to receive a degree from
Aligarh Moslem University. Its chancellor is Dr. Zakir
Hussain, a dignified and noble scholar who was opposed to
the partitioning of India. Refusing to flee to Pakistan at
the time of the riots, he rallied around him a good many
other Moslems (there are, of course, millions of Moslems
still living in India today) and was given the protection of
both Gandhi and Nehru. All Hindus are grateful for his
firm stand and his faith in them.
Our return trip was made by car, so that we might be
back in the city in time to keep some afternoon engage-
ments. For this trip Madame Pandit, who perhaps had
learned in the United States what a picnic really is, had
packed a delicious lunch of a variety of sandwiches, fruit
and little cakes. We found a little government guesthouse
by the side of a canal and drove in there to eat It was de-
lightful there by the running water; we needed no service,
and everyone was relaxed and happy. As usual, however, we
were conscious of the swift passage of time, so we could
The Changing India
not linger, for I was determined to be back by three o'clock.
One of the greatest problems on a crowded trip of this kind
is to find time to do such simple things as getting one's
hair washed. Mine was so filled with the dust of all our
travels that it was practically stiff. My three o'clock ap-
pointment was for a shampoo, and I felt if I missed this
one opportunity I would start out again and never have
another chance.
Like a lot of other people, I imagine, I always have diffi-
culty too in finding something in my travels to bring home
to the little boys in the family. I thought on this trip that
I was never going to find anything that would amuse my
grandsons, but fortunately on a shopping expedition in
New Delhi I saw some snake charmers 7 flutes spread out
under the trees along the pavement and decided these might
prove of interest to all the children.
One of the last things I did in New Delhi was to attend
a reception given by the Nizam of Hyderabad, whom I had
not met when I was there though I had seen him flying
past in his automobile on his way to late afternoon prayers.
This was his first visit to New Delhi since the new govern-
ment of India was established. The British had left the
native princes practically untouched in their powers, and
had interfered very little in their administration of their
states; and the Nizam resented the change in his position
and the curtailment of his absolute power that had come
with the new order of things. He had shown his resentment
India and the Awakening East
by previously refusing to come to New Delhi for the regular
meetings of state governors and rajpramukhs.
He is a short, slight man, not at all impressive looking,
and he wears a tall, tight cap to increase his height All
lands of stories had been circulating about how many planes
it had required to move his retinue and how many wives
and children he had brought with him. There was even a
rumor that he did not know how many children he had.
At the party, a very lavish affair despite his reputation for
cautious spending, I met two of his daughters, both of
whom were very quiet and subdued. He himself seemed
pleasant, but I had no opportunity really to talk to him.
Our final day in New Delhi I had a long chat with Prime
Minister Nehru, who wanted to know all about where I
had been, the drives I had taken, what I had seen and the
people I had met. He was, I thought, particularly pleased
that I had enjoyed the Taj so much and had appreciated
the Ellora Caves.
Afterward we went to the garden party given by Pres-
ident Prasad. It was quite a formal affair, attended by the
entire diplomatic corps. As I moved down the path with
the President, stopping at a certain spot to stand at at-
tention while both national anthems were played, I felt
queerly as though history were moving backward and we
were going through a formal White House ceremony.
We had an opportunity that evening for a talk with Dr.
Frank Graham, who was again negotiating with Pakistan
The Changing India
and India over Kashmir. Of course he could tell us noth-
ing and unhappily the dispute still stands about where it
did that evening but he is such a wonderful person that
just to be with him always gives me confidence that some-
thing good is going forward. I think that everyone who
comes in contact with him feels better simply for being in
his presence. We talked happily about old days at Chapel
Hill, and what the Senate was likely to do about more aid
for India; and then I discovered that Dr. Graham, in all his
visits to India, had never seen the Taj Mahal. I was horri-
fied, and told him he should certainly not leave India this
time without giving himself the pleasure of seeing one of
the most beautiful things in the world.
I was really sorry to leave New Delhi. I had grown to
feel at home there, and both at Government House and
at the Prime Minister's everyone had been so kind that
I had a pleasant sense of constant care and attention.
It was at this time that I made the trip to Etawah with
Governor Modi, which I have described earlier. At the end
of my day there I joined Madame Pandit in Allahabad,
where I was going to be given a degree by the university.
Allahabad is the home of Prime Minister Nehru; and it
is from this district that Madame Pandit is elected to Parlia-
ment. She had gone on ahead to open the house so we
could stay there, and one of the Cabinet members, Dr.
India and the Awakening East
Katju, the Home Minister, came up to be with us and show
us around while we were there.
I was impressed by the house, which was large and old-
fashioned, and both within and without declared the simple
tastes of its owners. I had the Prime Minister's room and
his study, and we were also given the use of the upstairs
library. Here books from every corner of the world told of
his avid and varied taste in reading. One evening after
sitting up rather late in the library I almost fell over two
prostrate figures lying on the veranda either servants or
guards, who had wrapped themselves completely in their
white outer garments and were sleeping with apparent com-
fort on the bare wooden floor. Madame Pandit told me
that she herself slept outside under the stars at night. The
Prime Minister's bed was comfortable, but I could not help
being aware that he scorned the soft modem bed with
inner springs.
Dr. Katju proved himself a fascinating guide. I remember
as one of my most delightful experiences the morning he
took us out in a boat to the place where the sacred Ganges
and the Jumna meet and mix their waters, and we made the
traditional offering of milk. Here, for so many centuries
that the beginning of the custom is lost in antiquity,
hundreds of thousands of pilgrims have come every year
at the time of the great bathing festivals, or melas, to wash
away their sins in the holy water of the Ganges, and to make
offerings in the temples. As we stepped from the car to
The Changing India
get into the boat, we were greeted by some of the people
whose families have lived thereabouts for generations and
whose lives were wholly dedicated to caring for the needs
of the pilgrims. The shore is dotted with huts, each bearing
a flag denoting the particular god served by the holy man
within.
Later in the morning we visited a prison where Nehru
and his father and many other Indian leaders were con-
fined by the British during one of the numerous sentences
they incurred and indeed sometimes invited in the long
passive resistance campaign that led to India's freedom. I
often felt, talking to some of these people, that today they
wear their prison sentences as other people wear medals of
distinction.
Sometimes they were in solitary confinement for months;
now and then one or two of them were in adjoining cells,
where they would have a small place to cook, and one of
the other prisoners would come in and prepare their meals.
Washing facilities were outside the cells, and of the most
primitive kind. The light was bad, but at night they were
allowed to have a lantern. The only furniture was a cot and
a stool, so life was fairly austere. However, letters, news-
papers and books were usually allowed to the political
prisoners, which must have helped to make the days of
inactivity more tolerable.
I have a theory that their years of political imprisonment
had a definite effect upon these men, many of whom now
[181]
India and the Awakening East
hold important government positions. They had much time
for meditation and writing, and they learned to disassociate
themselves from their surroundings and to think abstractly.
In my first contact with the Prime Minister I was impressed
by the feeling, which occasionally I also had even in large
public gatherings, that he had withdrawn from his sur-
roundings and, as far as his mind went, was hundreds of
miles or years away. And indeed, in his fine The Dis-
covery of India, written while he was imprisoned in Ahmad-
nagar Fort during the last war, Nehru says:
Time seems to change its nature in prison. The present hardly
exists, for there is an absence of feeling and sensation which
might separate it from the dead past. . . . The outer objective
time ceases to be, the inner and subjective sense remains, but at
a lower level, except when thought pulls it out of the present
and experiences a kind of reality in the past or in the future.
We live, as Auguste Comte said, dead men's lives, encased in
our pasts, but this is especially so in prison where we try to find
some sustenance for our starved and locked-up emotions in
memory of the past or fancies of the future.
... so I made voyages of discovery into the past, ever seeking
a clue in it, if any such existed, to the understanding of the
present. The domination of the present never left me even when
I lost myself in musings of past events and of persons far away
and long ago, forgetting where or what I was. If I felt oc-
casionally that I belonged to the past, I felt also that the whole
of the past belonged to me in the present. . . .
I was glad Dr. Katju showed us the prison. "Seeing it, I
realized what India's leaders had willingly endured, and I
The Changing India
felt I had a better understanding of the fire that bums in
so many of them.
So far our visit to Allahabad had been full of interest and
very peaceful. There remained only the convocation at the
university at which I was to receive a degree, and the address
to the student body that the students' council had asked me
to deliver afterward. But at noon on that day, a number of
the student organizations suddenly issued
An Open Letter to Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt
on the Occasion of
Her Visit to the Allahabad University
Dear Madame:
We have known you as the wife of the late President Roose-
velt of the United States of America under whose eminent
leadership America fought shoulder to shoulder with the entire
progressive humanity, against the dangers of Fascism. It would
have been a matter of great joy to us, therefore, to welcome you
in our midst had you come to our country as a private citizen
in order to increase the good will and cultural ties between the
peoples of the two countries, for who does not stand for the
friendship among the nations.
Unfortunately, however, your recent statements at public
gatherings testify to the contrary. Instead of bringing us a
message of good will on behalf of the American people you have
chosen to intervene in affairs which are our own domestic
concern. For instance, while speaking at a reception given in
your honor in New Delhi, you suggested that "Communism is
fought with guns but with bread too." This appears to fit in
with the imperialist scheme of using bread as a weapon of inter-
ference in internal politics of other countries. All patriots will
India and the Awakening East
resent it and regard it as derogatory to our national prestige.
There are various shades of political opinion in our country
which is evident from the picture that has emerged after the
general elections. Any suggestion, particularly from a foreigner,
however indirect, of using guns against any section is simply
intolerable.
Quite recently a number of cultural delegations from abroad
as well as renowned foreign personalities have visited our coun-
try. The Chinese Cultural Mission, the renowned French
Physicists, Professor Joliot Curie and Madame Irene Curie, the
distinguished Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda, the well-known
Cambridge economist, Mr. Maurice Dobb and many others have
come to our land but none of them chose to interfere in our
internal politics and none of them found it necessary to slander
and vilify this or that trend in the body-politic of our land.
Indian delegations have also gone abroad but none of them
made a bid for political guidance of the home country.
Representatives of American imperialism seem to have made
a hobby of indulging in slander and abuse of personalities and
ideologies they do not like. Even so responsible a person as the
American Ambassador, Mr. Chester Bowles, the other day re-
ferred to Dr. J. C. Kumrappa, well-known Gandhian economist,
as "a very foolish man" when he was asked to comment on the
fetter's view that "American aid is a noose around India's neck."
Such is the disregard even for elementary courtesy by the highest
representative of the Wall Street.
We are strongly of the opinion that Indian people alone are
competent to decide the way of life they wish to lead and they
will under no circumstances tolerate the arrogance of any
foreigner to teach us what is good and bad, appropriate or in-
appropriate for us as a nation to do. This is a matter of choice
The Changing India
exclusively for the Indian people to make. That we will brook
no foreign interference from any quarter and in any shape is
amply clear.
The letter contains, as you see, many of the usual allega-
tions which one finds in Communist propaganda, and
practically demands explanations. When Madame Pandit
brought the letter to me, I was quite prepared to answer it
and I suggested she let me handle it in the students' meet-
ing. However, she was greatly worried. Someone had tele-
phoned to the Prime Minister who, in reply, had said that
if any discourtesy was shown to a guest of the government
the university would be held responsible.
The newly elected head of the university and the registrar
were deeply disturbed. They did not see how they could
control the students; they felt that the students would ask
embarrassing questions and perhaps interrupt my speech,
and might even try to make trouble. Consequently, when
Madame Pandit asked them whether they did not think it
would be better if I stayed away from the student meeting,
they promptly fell in with her suggestion that instead I
see a representative group of about one hundred students on
the lawn of her home.
I suggested that they forget that I was a guest of the
government of India and let me go alone to the meeting
and handle it as I would handle a meeting of young people
at home, allowing them to ask questions and interrupt if
they wished, and answering honestly. They all protested
India and the Awakening East
that that was impossible. Finally I said that since the letter
was signed by about ten students, heads of the student or-
ganization, I would like to invite those ten to come and
talk the letter over before meeting the others on the lawn.
They agreed to this and I wrote the invitation, which was
delivered at once.
We all went to the Convocation and I received my degree
and made a brief acknowledgment. There was no disturb-
ance, and immediately afterward I returned with Madame
Pandit to the Prime Minister's house.
In the meantime word had reached the head of the stu-
dent organization that I would not attend their meeting.
They sent representatives to talk this over with Madame
Pandit. She discovered that the vice-president of the main
student organization, who was among this group, was also
one of the signers of the Open Letter, and she asked him
if he agreed with the statements it contained. He assured
her that he did, and this so incensed her that she told him
in that case his presence as a guest was not welcome in her
home. He left and, of course, reported what she had said to
the head of the organization and the other students. They
now gathered outside the gates of the house some three
thousand strong, with a loud speaker, and demanded that
Madame Pandit come out and apologize for having ejected
one of their members.
Meanwhile three of the students who had signed the
open letter had accepted my invitation and were sitting
The Changing India
with me in a small study, discussing the leaflet. I answered
every point they made in it to the best of my ability and
with perfect candor, and I think they were convinced that
I was honest even though they may not have agreed with
me.
Finally I could no longer ignore the noise outside and
said that I thought I had better go and talk to the students.
The three who were with me told me that would do no
good, because they were not asking for me but for Madame
Pandit, who had insulted one of their members. Neverthe-
less, as time went on and our conversation came to an end
I decided that this could not be permitted to drag out
indefinitely, so I went to the gate where I found the poor
registrar standing on a chair, trying to induce the students to
return to the university. I took his place on the chair and
talked to them for ten minutes, at the end of which time
the president of the organization, standing in the middle of
the crowd, announced that they did not like to receive their
guests across a gate and would be extremely grateful if I
would come to the students' hall even for a short time. I
agreed to this if they would go back immediately and allow
me to join them there. This seemed to meet with their
approval and they started to move away. I turned to the
president and the registrar and said they could go with me
but we must take no one else. Someone suggested an un-
obtrusive guard, but I said no: no police and no soldiers
were to go with us either. They accepted this stipulation
India and the Awakening East
and we drove off in the car, leaving Dr. Gurewitsch look-
ing rather unhappy about the whole idea.
When we arrived at the students' hall it was jammed.
They took me up to the platform and presented me with a
written and framed address of welcome and invited me to
respond. I spoke for a short time in a general vein on
democracy and human rights; then I thanked them and was
warmly applauded and allowed to leave without the slightest
demonstration and with a perfectly amicable spirit existing
on both sides.
The list of questions prepared for me by the students at
Allahabad is, I think, not without interest:
(1) What is an un-American activity? Why is there
ruthless suppression of so-called un-American ac-
tivities?
(2) Do you propose to visit the real India, which accord-
ing to Mahatma Gandhi lies in its seven million
villages, and informally contact the villagers?
(3) Is it one of your objects of your visit to India to see
the labor slums, particularly in Bombay, Calcutta,
Ahmadabad, Delhi and Cawnpore?
(4) Why do Americans hesitate to pour their capital
into India when full facilities are assured them?
(5) Why is America so concerned to check communism
in Asia when President Truman agrees that Russia
and the U.S.A. can exist side by side?
(6) Do you think that democracy in the real sense of
The Changing India
the term can never be realized until and unless
the principle of self-determination of the nations
is given full effect both in letter and spirit?
(7) Is it not a fact that the neutrality and territorial
independence of the smaller nations owing to the
technique of modern warfare are rendered a farce as
such nations have to depend for their defense on
big powers?
(8) How do you justify the uncommon and keen in-
terest evinced by the U.S.A. in Asia at present? Is it
really characterized by purely humanitarian con-
sideration?
(9) Why in the land of Lincoln and Roosevelt is there
still discrimination, color prejudice and Negro
lynching?
(10) Is it a fact that nearly thirteen million persons are
unemployed in the United States? If so why should
this be? (wholly or partially)
(11 ) What is the role of the students in American life?
(12) What do you think of "third force" in International
politics? Don't you think it is in the best interest of
India to keep aloof from both the warring blocs?
(13) How are you liking India and what impressions are
you carrying back with you?
(14) What is your personal view about the admission of
the People's Government of China into the UNO?
(15) What role has the works of Swami Vivekananda
India and the Awakening East
played in the life of the American people? What are
your views, therefore, about the Indian way of life as
enunciated in the Vedantic philosophy?
(16) What is the lot of Communists in America?
To the fifteenth question I had to plead ignorant. Most
of the others I tried to answer in my press conferences and
in my talks with the students at various universities.
I was not surprised to find, in talking to university groups,
that the questions they asked me were reminiscent of those
that young people in the United States used to ask me dur-
ing the 1930*5. The young Indians live under different cir-
cumstances, they have a different background, but in seeking
a solution to their problems they react much as our young
people did when they were searching for an answer to what
they felt was the failure of democracy to meet their needs
during the years of the great depression. The surprising thing
to me is not that there should be frustration among the
youth of India, when there is so much that needs to be done
and they are so ill-equipped with the skills to do it, but that
there is not more unrest The young people of India will
probably straighten out as soon as there are jobs for them to
work at and they have been given the training to fill them.
, Prime Minister Nehru has always felt apparently that the
Hindu religion, with its emphasis on nonviolence and truth,
was inherently incompatible with communism, and that
there was therefore no danger that communism would ever
gain a real foothold in India. The rise in the Communist
The Changing India
vote in India's first election they won 5.5 per cent of the
elected seats in Parliament seems to have been a shock to
many government leaders. Their strength was chiefly in the
south of India, where they capitalized on the acute food
shortage, and where, perhaps significantly, the literacy rate
is highest
Nevertheless, it was not in the south, but in Allahabad,
that I encountered the most open demonstration of Com-
munist influence on the students. Happily, none of the other
degrees I received carried with them the same experience.
I was very fortunate in the number of universities that
were kind enough to honor me. For, in addition to the two
I have already mentioned, I was given a degree by New Delhi
University, whose chancellor is President Prasad, and by
Santiniketan, which was founded by Rabindranath Tagore.
His son is now the head of it. I particularly liked my degree
from this university. It is in Sanskrit and was inscribed on
a copper plate by a young Turkish student. I also liked the
lovely silk scarf they give with it instead of a hood.
After the commencement exercises I went back to the
president's house for lunch. I have always admired Tagore's
poetry, but I had not realized until I saw the library of his
works what a prolific writer he had been; nor had I realized
until I saw his paintings and sketches on the walls that he
was an artist as well as a poet
Tagore was an intimate friend of Gandhi, whose prin-
ciples are a part of the university's creed. The ideal of service
India and the Awakening East
is emphasized particularly, and many of the students spend
their vacations working in the villages or city slums. One
of the four young Americans who are studying there has be-
come, outwardly at least, almost an Indian, even wearing
the seamless garment of khadi, or homespun, that Gandhi
urged all Indians to spin and wear.
I had a question and answer period with the students in
the afternoon, and came away with the feeling that they
were to some extent divorced from the real world. I do not
mean that they were unaware of what was happening in the
world, for they were not; but they seemed to stand apart
from it, and lived almost as if in an ivory tower. I am sure
the young Americans who are studying there are getting an
excellent classical education; but if education in its broadest
sense should prepare one to live in one's own world, I
wonder if they won't find it difficult to adapt themselves
when they emerge from the environment of this university,
where the stress is wholly on the intellectual, artistic and
spiritual life?
XI
One of the things we of the West who are attempting to
understand India must realize is why the Communist phi-
losophy is perhaps easier for them to accept than our own.
It is a fact that very few of them know what we are talking
about when we speak of freedom in the abstract, as we are
accustomed to in the United States or Great Britain or other
[192]
The Changing India
European countries. They have had no experience with the
reality; for they have hardly ever been free. It is only in the
last six years that they have had their own government; and
they held their first election only a year and a half ago. The
great majority of them have been hungry all their lives;
indeed, they have been hungry for generations, and they will
become hungrier as their population increases, unless drastic
measures are taken.
But their poverty has been made more bearable by their
religion which teaches the worthlessness of material posses-
sions and the virtue of voluntary renunciation, and promises
to the upright the reward of a better life in the next incarna-
tion. For it is part of the Hindu belief that when a person
dies he is reborn again in some other form; and whether
that form is higher or lower in the scale of existence depends
upon his conduct in his present life.
In effect, what it means to a starving Hindu peasant in
Madras, to a Hindu dweller in the slums of Bombay, to a
Hindu refugee sleeping in the streets of Calcutta is that
since he cannot eat and must go without, he can at least go
without voluntarily and patiently, and thereby store up
treasures for the life to come.
So they have gone on, these masses of people, living closely
together, suffering together and sharing a deep sense of
brotherhood and a common reverence for those who are
willing to renounce the good things of the world and to join
with their brothers in suffering. It is not unusual for a prince,
India and the Awakening East
when he feels he is approaching his last years, to give away
all he has and retire to a mountain top or a cave, placing
his begging bowl where the poor can put in it their offerings
of food from their meager stock, knowing that having be-
come a holy man he can repay them by prayer. Holy men
with their begging bowls are fairly common sights in India.
The appeal renunciation has for the Indian people was
borne out by something told me by Dr. Katju, the cultured
and charming Cabinet minister who showed us about Al-
lahabad. The morning we went out on the river I asked him
about the significance of the different emblems on the flags
that floated above the huts and tents of the holy men along
the banks. He explained to me that Hindus believe in the
existence of one Supreme God, Brahma, who however has
various aspects and who manifests himself in various ways.
These different aspects have been personified in a number
of lesser gods, who are represented by images. Each family
has its own particular household god, whom it worships, but
all these gods are simply different manifestations or ex-
pressions of the one Universal God. Then he told me a story
of Krishna, the warrior hero who is worshiped as the human
embodiment of the great god Vishnu the Preserver. Vishnu,
Brahma the Creator and Shiva the Destroyer are the three
principal gods of the Hindu trinity. In a way, the tale is
reminiscent of some of the old Greek myths. Krishna left
his wife for a journey to far away places and was gone many
years. After he left she bore him a son of whose coming
Krishna knew nothing; and she brought the boy up to guard
The Changing India
the house and to let no one enter it. One day, without notice,
Krishna returned. His son barred the entrance and Krishna,
incensed, cut off the boy's head. Finding his wife within,
he demanded to loiow who it was that had dared to deny
him entrance, and whose head he had cut off. His wife in
horror told him that it was his own son. Grief-stricken, and
desiring to make amends, Krishna killed and cut off the
head of an elephant which he brought back and put on his
son. To this day Ganesh the god with the elephant's
head is the defender of all homes; and all over India you
see his image on little plaques fastened over or near the
doors of the houses.
Dr. Katju finally turned to me and said: "Those flags are
there to guide the pilgrims, so each of them will know where
to find the holy man who represents his special household
god/ 7 Then he added, rather sadly, I thought: "You know,
Mrs. Roosevelt, if I were to give up my position in the
Cabinet and give away everything I have made in my life
and sit with a begging bowl under one of those flags, I would
have one hundred times more influence with the people
than I have today."
I thought then of Gandhi who gave up his considerable
income as a lawyer and everything he had and chose instead
the simple and austere life of an ashram. The people loved
him for his sacrifice and renunciation; it was, largely, the
secret of his enormous influence with them and was what
made it possible for him to become a national leader.
In my mind's eye I saw a picture of the home for Un-
India and the Awakening East
touchable boys that Gandhi had founded on the outskirts
of New Delhi and of the bare little room on the second
floor that he used when he went there to stay with them. I
saw the room when we were in New Delhi, and I stood at
the entrance awed by the thought of the power of the man
who had lived there. All there ever was in that room is still
there a rug, a rolled-up pad that was used at night as a
bed, a pillow. People who came to see him sat cross-legged
on the floor before him, as I should certainly have had to
do had I ever had the good fortune to be received by him.
I suppose if you have done it from birth, squatting on your
heels is very comfortable and you can do it even in your
old age. I myself find it practically impossible, and it irritates
me that I have let my knees grow stiff,
We in the West do not demand or expect such aus-
terity and self-denial in the lives of our public men, and
though we might respect them for it, it would not greatly
enhance their influence. But the hungry people of India
were won by Gandhi's life of voluntary renunciation and
service, and they followed him as long as he lived.
The philosophy of renunciation, combined with appalling
poverty, has created a situation made to order for the Com-
munists, who have shaped their propaganda cleverly. They
do not promise fantastic material rewards; they say some-
thing like this 'Tour lives have been difficult. You have
known only hardship and poverty. If you will surrender
your will to the state, which labors for the good of the
[196]
The Changing India
people as a whole, the state will see that all of you have
work to do for which you are compensated; and all of you
will have something to eat. It may not be as much as you
would like, but you will be assured of enough to keep body
and soul together. And you will have the satisfaction of
knowing that throughout the Communist world all your
brothers will share equally with you, and are also enjoying
the fruits of their own labor."
Freedom to eat is one of the most important freedoms;
and it is what the Communists are promising the people of
India.
Our Western doctrines are less easy to grasp. We strive
for great prosperity; we want to be free to progress as far and
as rapidly as we can, and we have enough confidence in our-
selves not to want to be restricted to a minimum. Our laws
may set certain minimum standards, but none of us wants
to be kept by law from working for better things.
To the Indians, however, we seem to be interested in
material gains only. Moreover what we offer, what we assure
them is possible, is so far removed from anything within the
experience or even the knowledge of most of them that
it sounds, quite simply, fantastic, not believable. We cannot
be sincere, they think. But what the Communists offer is
entirely understandable. The possibilities they hold out
have the advantage of being something the Indian people
can imagine achieving; that they can see as not too far re-
moved from the pattern of their past or from their vision
India and the Awakening East
and hope for the future. Yes, they say, this much possibly is
within our reach. They have no background of knowledge
that would enable them to detect the speciousness of the
Communist promises; they do not realize that the Com-
munist system is a brake not only on material but spiritual
advance; they have not yet made the connection between
freedom and not just less hungry stomachs but full stomachs.
There is no question in my mind that Prime Minister
Ivfehru is trying to develop a democracy that, though per-
haps not exactly like ours, will ensure all the people per-
sonal freedom"; But if an accompanying material prosperity
is also to be ^achieved and the government will not be
successful unless it can demonstrate certain progress on the
material side considerable education and re-education of
the people will be necessary. For a belief in the virtue of
renunciation is not an incentive to hard work for material
gaiij; ,but only hard work by all the people is going to bring
any real betterment of their living conditions. Somehow a
spiritual incentive, a substitute for renunciation, will have
to be found. Somehow they must be made to realize the
living and exciting possibilities of the freedom and de-
mocracy their new government offers them.
These ideas had been gradually forming in my mind as I
traveled about India, and in my last talk with Prime
Minister Nehru the night before I left Calcutta, I tried to
put them into words for him. I asked him first whether my
feeling about the Indians' great admiration of renunciation
The Changing India
was correct, and I told him what Dr. Katju had said. He was
quick to answer that he thought the Indian people wanted
their public men to do their work; but then he added: 'They
do admire renunciation/' and from the tone of his voice I
gathered that he admired it too.
I went on to ask whether thre were not two separate
lines that would have to be pursued before the goals of the
Five Year Plan could be achieved. One was of course the
line of material progress, involving the procurement of the
material aid, technical assistance, supplies and machines
needed to develop India's agricultural and industrial econ-
omy and trade. With, in the meantime, enough food grains
to keep the people from starving. These things the techni-
cally advanced countries of the West could help with.
But the other requisite of success we could not help with
to discover an equivalent to renunciation^ Only the In-
dian leaders, especially Nehru himself, with his deep under-
standing of the Indians 7 inner needs, could judge what
spiritual ^incentives would induce them to make the effort
necessary to obtain material satisfaction.
Our material wealth has come to us almost as a by-product
of our effort to fulfill our spiritual and democratic ideals
and as a result of our philosophy of work. But our ideals are
peculiar to our culture; they satisfy us, but they would not
necessarily satisfy the Indian people. As a Westerner, I
could be told that I must work hard to attain material
success for myself and my nation because the Lord did not
India and the Awakening East
intend people to die almost before they had lived; and did
intend them to live and contribute to the general well-being
of their world and to the development of their country.
That is the way civilization advances, and India could con-
tribute greatly to its advancement. These considerations are
a sufficient moral and spiritual spur for us. "But would they
be enough to make the Indian people work?" I asked Nehru.
My own feeling is that with their religious and cultural
background something different will be required to spark in
them the conviction that the modern struggle of a highly
technologically developed state is worth while.
I do not know whether my analysis is right or whether I
am simply imagining a situation; yet when I was talking to
Nehru that night, he gave me no feeling that I was wrong.
I think it is well for all of us as we size up the effect of
the Communist promises in this area of the world, and the
possible success of our own conception of democracy, to
bear in mind that our world and way of life is an unknown
quantity to the people of the East. This is one of the hurdles
we will have to get over before we can hope fully to under-
stand each other.
When I was going through Los Angeles on my way home,
Paul Hoffman asked me to lunch with him and his col-
leagues of the Ford Foundation. They had only recently
made a rather more extensive trip than mine, and we ex-
changed impressions. When I told Mr. Hoffman of my last
talk with Nehru, he said he had tried to say something to
[200]
The Changing India
him of a similar nature. He told the Prime Minister that in
our country the spark that fired the imagination of all young
people was the Horatio Alger story, the story of the poor
boy who always becomes a great success. The Prime Min-
ister, he said, did not seem to understand. I do not know
whether he understood what I was trying to tell him any
better, though I put it a little differently, but the point I
am making is that the Horatio Alger story and all its impli-
cations about the American way would, I am afraid, be
totally unintelligible to most of the people of India.
Somehow they must be brought to realize that our desire
for material success is coupled with spiritual motivations as
well, and they must understand what these motivations are.
This may mean that we shall first have to clarify them for
ourselves. In the process, perhaps many of us will come to
see that fundamentally our life is based on religious beliefs
that in some ways are not unlike those of the Hindus. We
believe in our God. Many of us in the West who are Chris-
tians believe that, through a mystery we cannot understand,
Christ was the Son of God sent to this world to sacrifice
His life to save us. The spirit of sacrifice is not so far re-
moved from the renunciation of the Hindus, and it runs
through the whole history of Christianity. Even those who
do not accept Christ as a God think of Him as a great and
good man with God-like qualities, and admire and love the
willingness to sacrifice for others that He and His disciples
taught and practiced.
[201]
India and the Awakening East
An understanding of our own spiritual foundations may
be one of the bridges we need to better understanding of
the East and its people.
xn
In Allahabad we regretfully said good-by to our very kind
hostess, Madame Pandit, for we would not be seeing her
again the remainder of our trip. I can never be grateful
enough to her for the thought she gave to the preparations
for my visit and for the care and attention with which she
watched over us while we were there.
My next recollections of India are of the old city of
Benares, the holiest of all India's cities, where thousands
of pilgrims come every year to worship in its shrines and to
bathe in the Ganges. Not far outside the city is the Deer
Park where Buddha is said to have preached his first sermon.
We were given an official welcome at the airport, but here
we had asked to be allowed to stay with a friend of Dr.
Gurewitsch Mr. Burnier, the young Frenchman who is
married to the charming dancer of The River, Radha Sri
Ram.
On the way to his house we took a boat along the Ganges,
passing the crowds of people on the ghats, the landing places
with long flights of wide steps that line the bank and lead
down to the river, and saw the smoke rising from the burn-
ing funeral pyres. When the river is high, they told me, it
rises almost to the top of the steps, though as I looked at
that long flight I found it diflScult to believe.
[202 I
The Changing India
The Ganges is a sacred river, for it was supposed to have
flowed from the brow of Lord Shiva, and all Hindus wish
when they die to have their ashes scattered on its water.
We left our boat finally and climbed the steps to mix
with the crowds and walk through some of the narrow
streets thronged with people and animals constantly passing
and going in and out of shops and temples. Narrow streets
have one value in this climate, however, for they shut out
the sun, and even in March it was very hot. The streets are
lined with innumerable open booths selling brasses, stone-
ware, embroideries, brocades of all sorts. Some of the more
pretentious merchants had their entrances on the street
and their shops on the second floor.
Mr. Burnier's house was charming. It was largely of brick
and was built around a courtyard, one room deep. The court-
yard was filled with potted flowers, and the long living room
faced the Ganges. We went out on the balcony that over-
hung the river and looked down on what I suppose was a
typical Benares scene. There was a herd of buffalo bathing
in the water, with only their backs showing. Nearby at a
little wharf, two women sat dabbling their feet, while a small
girl of five or six bathed just below them. Suddenly the child
began to wail and the cries were heart-rending. We won-
dered why the women seemed so uninterested. Finally the
older woman girded up her sari and started to wade toward
the child, who was bobbing up and down in the water, com-
ing up each time with a louder wail than before. Just as the
woman nearly reached her, the child came up holding a tiny
[203]
India and the Awakening East
pair of pants. All was serene then, and she spread them
out on the stone to dry. The significance of this little drama,
I think, was that the child had no other garment, and to
lose one's only garment was a serious matter. At five or six,
the habit of renunciation hadn't taken a firm enough hold
to make her indifferent to her loss.
The only other city we visited in India was Calcutta,
which was our last stopping place. This is not a city that I
recommend as the first to be seen in India. Here the poverty
seems even more acute than elsewhere; the slums are appal-
ling and there is a great deal of illness. Malaria and epilepsy
abound; elephantiasis is not rare; and every day the news-
paper matter-of-factly lists the number of people who have
died from cholera, plague and smallpox.
Calcutta, which is on the Hooghly River, about eighty-
five miles from the Bay of Bengal, is the chief port of eastern
India, as well as one of its largest industrial centers,
and such cities are seldom clean or healthy. Conditions
have been made worse by the fact that thousands of ref-
ugees from Pakistan have poured in here, and despite
the heroic efforts of the government to get them under
shelter, many are still homeless. Walking in the streets after
dark one night, I nearly fell over a figure wrapped in his
garment sleeping on the edge of the sidewalk. Elsewhere
about the city I saw people sleeping on the front of monu-
ments, on the steps of buildings and under the protection
of the bridge arches, the sacred cows asleep on the sidewalk
[204]
The Changing India
beside them. Many a man, when he quits work at night,
simply puts his pallet on the sidewalk in front of his shop
and lies down. What it is like when it rains and he must
sleep within the four walls of the cubbyhole where he works
I cannot imagine, but I suppose the impossible becomes
possible when shelter is essential.
One heartening note, however, is provided by the wonder-
ful work being done by the various women's organizations
of Calcutta. I attended one of their meetings at Government
House, which was presided over by Lady Mitter, an English-
woman, and was extremely impressed by the exhibits il-
lustrating their work. They maintain nursery schools, run
adult education classes, give instruction in sanitation and
hygiene and child care, and start centers where the refugees
and other poor people are taught various handicrafts'.
The magnificent way the women have taken hold here
illustrates as well as anything could the determination and
spirit with which they are seizing their opportunities and
accepting their responsibilities. All over India today you
find women not only going into social work, but heading up
girls' colleges and schools, and holding political office, both
appointive and elective. Some women are successfully com-
bining several jobs, like Mrs. Hansa Mehta, whom I was
delighted to see in Bombay, and who is head of a school
near Madras as well as India's delegate on the Human
Rights Commission.
On my last full day in Calcutta I dined with Mr. and Mrs.
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India and the Awakening East
Wilson, our Consul General and his wife, and attended a
meeting to celebrate the opening of the United States In-
formation Service Center. These centers are stocked with
books, pictures, posters, magazines and documentary films
which give the Indian people an honest picture of American
life and people, and a clearer understanding of our policies.
India is working with our own USIS people here, helping
to disseminate knowledge about the United States and
interpreting the material to the people who come in. And
they do come in. They come in from the streets in throngs
proof, I think, of how hungry they are for information. It
is a great pity we cannot afford to establish these centers in
all the cities that ask for them. It would not only help them
to know us as we really are, but would help to offset the
distorted picture of us presented by Russian propaganda^
second-rate American movies, the insensitive and tactless
behavior of some of the Americans who go to India and the
boastfulness of some who merely stay at home. And make
no mistake. The Russian propaganda in India is excellent.
They have really beautiful posters depicting the Utopian
conditions in the Soviet Union, and stock the bookshops
with Russian books made to sell for a few pennies. The In-
dian press, with a few exceptions, is generally reluctant to
publish anything very critical of the Soviet Union, since
they feel it is important in the country's present state of
development and preparedness to remain on as friendly
terms as possible with such a close and powerful neighbor.
[206]
The Changing India
Consequently it is not easy for the Indian people to learn
the unpleasant facts of Soviet life that lie behind the rosy
propaganda, or to spot the falsity in the picture the Soviets
give them of us unless we help them to.
It was this last evening that I also had the long conversa-
tion with Nehru that I described earlier. He is a delightful
and understanding person, and I have no words to express
my admiration of his extraordinary courage, for the weight
of the burden he carries is heavy.
Nepal
In between my visits to Benares and Calcutta, I made a
quick trip by air to the tiny kingdom of Nepal, lying on the
slopes of the Himalayas, between the northern border of
India and the southern border of Tibet. It had not been
planned as part of my itinerary, but in talking to Ambassador
Bowles one day I mentioned that I was anxious to have a
really good view of the high mountains of the Himalayas.
He thought the way to do it was to fly into Katmandu in
Nepal, and then fly along the whole range.
It is only recently that Nepal built an airport and that an
air service was established between New Delhi and Kat-
mandu, the capital. Katmandu lies in a fertile valley fifteen
miles long surrounded by high mountains, and is not
reached by the railroad. Up to three years ago one had to go
by train across Pakistan and then for two days by horseback,
donkey or foot over the mountains to Katmandu. The city
and surrounding villages are served by a cable railway nine-
teen miles long, but most transportation is still by foot. The
chassis of the few trucks one sees on the road had to be
[208]
Nepd
carried in over the mountains on the backs of porters; and
the impressive Rolls-Royce in which we were driven around
was brought in the same way. There are not many cars of
any kind, however, for the roads are few and bad. I do not
think I have ever felt so far out of the world.
We stayed in a palace which is at present occupied by Mr.
and Mrs. Rose. Mr. Rose is the director of the Point Four
program in Nepal, and Mrs. Rose explained to me that they
either had to live in the palace or in a hovel with a dirt
floor. There was nothing in between. They had been in-
stalled only ten days and were just getting accustomed to
the peculiarities of their abode when we arrived. There was
a bathroom, but all the water had to be carried up from
the kitchen. There were a few other inconveniences in con-
nection with this bathroom, but on the whole I thought we
were lucky to be as comfortable as we were, and I was very
grateful to the Roses for taking us in, particularly as they
were hardly settled themselves.
The small daughter of the family took me on a tour of
exploration in the early morning. We inspected first the
empty rooms of the palace which the Roses hope to use as
offices and quarters for other members of the staff when
they arrive. Outside we saw the walled-in gardens and a quite
wonderful stable and barn, now occupied, if I remember
rightly, by just one goat. However, the promise of a pony
was very present in the mind of my young guide.
At the luncheon reception given for me by Mr. and Mrs.
India and the Awakening East
Rose I had a chance to talk to some of the young Nepalese
students who were being sent to the United States to study
agriculture (Nepal is almost wholly agricultural; handicrafts
are about the only industry) and medicine. I began to in-
quire about the facilities for practicing medicine that would
be available to the medical students on their return to Nepal
and at first made little headway with my questions. After
some time one of the foreign embassy people said to me in
a low voice: "Nobody goes to the hospital here until they
know they are going to die."
That conditions in the hospital should be so bad that
nobody would go to it except as a last resort seemed to me
shocking. I talked about it to the Prime Minister, and spoke
of the need for bringing in new equipment to modernize
the hospital and to provide the newly trained doctors on
their return with the same kind of instruments that they
would have become accustomed to using in the United
States. The Prime Minister, who appeared to me a progres-
sive and sensible human being, seemed to see my point, and
I had a feeling he might try to procure the essential equip-
ment
Nepal, until fairly recently, had a rather unusual admini-
strative system a titular king, who was merely a figurehead
and rarely seen, and a hereditary prime minister who ex-
ercised the real power and who was always succeeded by a
member of his own family. The present king of Nepal
Maharajadhira Tribhubana Bir Bikram who came to the
[210]
Nepal
throne in 1911, was later exiled for a short period, and his
three-year-old grandson was installed in his place. However,
he came back to Nepal ui 1951, put an end to rule by
hereditary premiers and established a popular constitutional
government.
We met the king, and his two official wives, when he
received us that evening prior to the buffet dinner he was
giving in my honor. He and his wives were very cordial; but
I cannot say conversation Bowed easily between us, and I
was relieved when an aide announced it was time to go into
the hall where the dinner was being given.
The younger brother of the Prime Minister was also
at the dinner. He told me he was coming to the United
States soon. He was not only younger than his brother,
whom he has since displaced in office, but, I thought, less
stable and mature. I only hope the development of the
country will not be affected by the change of prime minis-
ters, for there is much to be done there.
The Nepalese seemed to me quiet, gentle and hard-work-
ing, people you could like but who would have little ability
to achieve the things they wanted by themselves. It will take
wise leadership and intelligent help from outside to prepare
them for living in a democracy.
The people seem to be of two stocks the Mongols, who
so far as anyone knows were the original inhabitants, and
the descendants of the Aryans, who came in from India,
mixed with the Mongolic tribes and in the eighteenth cen-
[ail]
India and the Awakening East
tury became predominant. The official religion and that
observed by the majority of the people is Hinduism, but
there are also many Buddhists, particularly in the north.
The morning after our arrival we visited a Buddhist temple
in a village where the Chinese Lama lives. He was away, so
we did not see him, but we walked about the village and
saw a number of other temples and shrines. There are, I am
told, over twenty-five hundred Buddhist temples in this
valley. They are extremely ornate and lavishly decorated
with skillful wood carving. But they were not, I thought,
really beautiful.
Leaving Katmandu for Calcutta, we flew as close to the
Himalayas as possible in order to obtain the best view of
the mountains. Unfortunately it was cloudy a good part of
the time, though we did have a glimpse of Mount Everest
and of some of the other high peaks. Perhaps the clouds
around the mountains really enhanced their height for they
still looked overwhelmingly impressive and majestic.
[212]
7
Homeward Bound
My visit to India ended, I headed home with no real
stops except for a few days in Indonesia. We touched down
briefly in Rangoon and stayed overnight in Bangkok, where
we were delightfully entertained by our Ambassador, Edwin
Stanton, and his wife and by officials of the Siamese govern-
ment. The next morning we were off again at seven for
Djakarta, the capital of the Indonesian Republic, with only
an hour and a half stop in Singapore.
It had been getting steadily hotter ever since we left India,
the kind of damp hotness that we Westerners find difficult
to take until we become acclimated. Indonesia lies along the
equator, and by the time we landed at Djakarta, where
Merle Cochrane, our Ambassador, met us, we were
thoroughly uncomfortable.
Indonesia is principally an agricultural country. The three
thousand islands in this archipelago grow a great variety
of products rice (there are rice paddies everywhere you
look), nuts, palm trees, rubber trees (here on Java I saw my
India and the Awakening East
first rubber plantation), tobacco, coffee, tea, sugar. It is lush
tropical country.
We dined with the President and Mrs. Soekarno, both
friendly, kind people. Dr. Soekarno is Indonesia's first
President, and a veteran in the fight for her independence.
He is greatly interested in modern painters and has a young
artist living with them who paints scenes of Indonesian
life. After dinner he showed me his own excellent collection
of modern paintings, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Indonesia is one of the world's rich countries, not only
agriculturally but in natural resources. She has vast supplies
of tin, coal and oil, and ample mineral deposits. It seemed
to me that here was a country that could support as great a
development as she was prepared to undertake, and use,
with perhaps phenomenal benefit to the living standards of
the people, the economic and technical assistance the United
Nations and the United States could give her. Yet only the
month before my arrival the Cabinet had resigned over a
disagreement about accepting help under our Mutual Se-
curity program. Later, to be sure, they did agree to accept
some technical and economic aid, but rejected the military
aid clause.
While I was there we talked over the difficulties the
United States has had with Indonesia; and I came to the
conclusion that it would perhaps be wise not to press our
MSA program too fast on these people, particularly the
military part of it. They are not antagonistic to us, but like
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Homeward Bound
other countries that have only recently become free, they
are definitely wary of us. Indonesia does not want to risk
becoming economically dependent; she does not welcome
too much in the way of leadership and guidance from the
outside.
Indonesia has come through a long period of guerrilla
warfare and has gained her freedom. She has to settle down
to organize her own government, to regulate her relationship
with the Netherlands and the rest of the world, and she has
some problems that are not easy to solve within her own
domain. Right in Djakarta she has a large Chinese popula-
tion. The government has recognized the Republic of China,
so there is an active Communist center in the Chinese em-
bassy there. It is very easy for Chinese Communists to in-
filtrate into Indonesia and it would be foolish to think they
are not doing so. Therefore we would be unwise not to co-
operate to the best of our ability in the development of
Indonesia in order to make life more worth while for the
people. But to expect that Indonesia is ready to enter into
an alliance in which she accepts a certain percentage of
military responsibility I think is asking too much and per-
haps does us more harm than good. She is jealous of her
independence; she should be allowed to formulate her own
plans and programs. We should not insist where she does
not signify her willingness to co-operate with us. In the long
run, if we wait for the government of Indonesia to ask for
our help, I think we will find ourselves further ahead than
India and the Awakening East
if we press her to accept our plans. Even though she may
do so, it will be reluctantly done.
In Indonesia, as in many other places, we have both
friends and enemies. Again it is deeds that will prove our
real intentions.
Because Indonesia is a rich country, many business people
are attracted to it. They, as well as our official government
representatives, should be used to create good will, but they
should be carefully briefed, and must walk with extreme tact
and care.
Leaving Djakarta, we headed for the Philippines and the
last speaking appointment of my trip. Both there and in
Indonesia I felt guilty, because time compelled me to refuse
so many of the engagements I was invited to fill.
As we flew in over the bay toward Manila, Bataan and
the island of Corregidor were pointed out below. To any
American those names will bring back a page in our history
that we will long remember with deep regret and sorrow.
No sooner had we stepped off the plane and been greeted
by Ambassador and Mrs. Spruance than I was confronted
with a request for a press conference and an expression of
my views on the Philippines, though I would have thought
it obvious that I could have little to say at that point. I am
afraid, since I was there only twenty-four hours, I have not
much more to offer now.
[ 21 6]
Homeward Bound
However, during the evening, when I met the women
who were to be my guides the following day, I learned how
much they at least thought it was possible to pack into that
time. The first thing the next morning, after laying wreaths
on the graves of some of the Philippine martyrs of the war,
I was taken to visit the old Spanish church of San Agustin,
in whose vestry Admiral Dewey signed the treaty trans-
ferring ownership of the Philippines from Spain to the
United States. This is the only building in the old walled
city part of Manila that hatf been left standing by earth-
quakes, bombings and the desperate fighting that finally
retook Manila from the Japanese. All of Manila still shows
the terrible scars of the devastation wrought by the war;
the New City was badly damaged, and the Old City com-
pletely erased except for this church. The government has
begun an extensive rebuilding program, with American aid,
but here too, in this already crowded, war-torn city, bad
conditions have been aggravated by a refugee problem. Over
150,000 refugees have fled into Manila to escape the
Communist-led Huk guerrillas who make life unsafe in the
outlying villages. So there are slums, overcrowding, not
enough jobs.
After leaving the church, we went to a United Nations
information center where people could learn about the
various activities of the organization; and then to a tuber-
culosis sanitarium. Tuberculosis is one of their most serious
health problems. Before the war, the United States had made
India and the Awakening East
remarkable gains in reducing the prevalence not only of
tuberculosis but of malaria, beriberi and other diseases
common in the East. During the war of course much of the
headway that had been made was lost, and the Philippine
government has had to attack the problem all over again.
Our next visit was to a children's village for orphans whose
parents were killed in the war. Here too are the children of
lepers; and though they are separated from the others, an
effort is made to give them as normal a life as possible. Their
parents are housed in the leper colony.
I had not realized before my visit that the Philippine
women were playing such a positive role in the development
of the country, so I was surprised at the extent of their
activities. I was particularly impressed by the work being
done by the rural schoolteachers, which, it seems to me, will
eventually revolutionize village life in the Philippines. The
plans now under way are to some extent based on the mass-
education program that the American-educated scholar,
James Yen, was directing in China before the arrival of the
Communists obliged him to leave. The Philippines have
free elementary education for both boys and girls, and the
teachers are trying to bring it within the reach of more
children; and they have begun fundamental education classes
for older people who have not had a chance to learn to read
and write (about half the population is literate). At the
same time they are planning to teach improved farming
techniques, and simple sanitation and health measures.
Homeward Bound
The morning ended up with a private audience with
President Quirino. I had learned earlier that two of his
daughters and his wife were killed by Japanese machine-
gunners only a few days before the city was liberated. Our
meeting was followed by a pleasant luncheon party at which
another daughter, who is charming, acted as hostess. I was
fascinated by the beautifully embroidered shirts worn by the
men, and before I left Manila asked someone to buy some
for my own menfolk though I don't know whether they
will ever wear them.
In the afternoon I spoke at Rizal Stadium to a con-
siderable audience of government officials, diplomats, dele-
gates of all the women's organizations and representatives
from the other islands in the Philippines. The stadium, I
learned, was named after one of the nineteenth-century
leaders in the movement for independence, who was ex-
ecuted by the Spanish, It is such a big place that I had
worried about making myself heard, and I had also been
concerned about language difficulties. To my relief, every-
one apparently was able to understand me, since, as I
realized later, English is the medium of instruction, though
Tagalog, a Malayan dialect, has been adopted as the national
language.
After my speech, we all watched an exhibition of native
dancing, which I thought was really outstanding and by
now I felt I had a right to judge!
Then, after an early dinner, we took off on our long
India and the Awakening East
flight to Honolulu, with short stops at Guam and Wake. At
last, with all official and social engagements behind me, I
felt I was really on my way home. My first contact with the
mainland of the United States was in Honolulu, when I was
informed that New York City was calling me. I was petrified,
as one always is, with the thought that something had gone
wrong at home, but it was only a matter of a business ques-
tion which my son John wanted to ask me. To him, Hono-
lulu meant I was practically home, and therefore within
telephone-calling distance.
Once I reach my own country after a trip I always want
to get all the way home as fast as possible. I have experienced
this feeling on every trip I have made, and it is exactly the
way I felt on the last lap of this one. Consequently I de-
cided not to linger on the coast, even though there were
family and friends I wanted to see. I had a special reason for
hurrying back this time, for Queen Juliana of the Nether-
lands was coming for a week end at Hyde Park, and I felt
it was important to be there at least a few days before she
arrived. I had been away for five months, with the exception
of a few days over Christmas, and a house that has been
empty that long can acquire a very deserted look.
[220]
By Way of Conclusion
It is curious how quickly when you are back in your own
surroundings you slip into the rut of the day's routine and
almost forget that only lately you have been completely im-
mersed in the problems and interests of faraway countries.
But I found after this trip that I could not forget some of
the things I had seen and experienced and felt; they re-
mained with me still. The excitement of meeting the dedi-
cated people who are building a new world in Israel, and
the interest of my first acquaintance with the Middle East
in the Arab countries, the sense there of groping for better
understanding, the pleasure and warmth of the contacts in
Pakistan and India all were unforgettable experiences.
When I try to gather my impressions and relate them to
the world situation and to what may happen to the United
States in the next few years, the touchstone seems always
to be China where I have never been. I think that in the
past, most people who thought about Asia thought of China,
because of her great size and population, as the heart of
Asia, and felt that there was no other Eastern country
whose healthy development would so profoundly affect the
entire Asian continent. The United States always counted
on a friendly relationship with her people. Much money
[221]
India and the Awakening East
was invested and many good people devoted themselves to
ameliorating the life of her four hundred millions. Yet in the
long run we failed to obtain the objectives we sought for
the Chinese people.
There has been much argument about how it happened,
and whether this policy or that policy was right or wrong,
but for whatever reason, China is now in the hands of the
Communists, and her leaders are undoubtedly close to their
masters in the Kremlin. There are people in Asia, in Europe
and even in this country who hope that China will prove
to be more a socialist than a communist state, and that
some of the objectionable features of Russian communism,
which permit no individual freedom and smother everyone
under a pall of fear, may be eliminated. These same people
feel that communism has taken a more moderate form in
Yugoslavia and that the people there are more influential
with Tito, dictator though he is, than they were with Stalin
or are with their present Russian masters. This is a difference
important enough, they believe, to give us hope that these
states may develop a type of communism that more nearly
resembles socialism and with which it may be possible for
the other countries of the world to live in peace.
Whatever pattern China follows, I should never want to
see the United States or the United Nations engaged in a
war with her. The vastness of the country and the size of
her population would, in my opinion, make it a most un-
profitable undertaking. In any case, I feel that the Chinese
[222]
By Way of Conclusion
people have a right to develop their government along what-
ever lines they see fit.
If China can in time satisfactorily fulfill the qualifications
of "a peace-loving state" I imagine she will eventually be
admitted to the United Nations; and I hope that trade and
diplomatic relations can then be restored. As long as the
United Nations is at war in Korea, however, I see no possi-
bility of any peaceful solution of our differences.
This makes India of greater importance than ever before.
Already most of the countries of Asia look to her for leader-
ship. Geographically, she lies between the Far East and
Europe. On the strength of these facts alone, no country is
in a better position to foster the growth of good will and
understanding between East and West. Nowhere could
the United Nations and the United States find more
knowledgeable help in securing the best results from their
aid programs in Asia. If India and Pakistan can be helped
to solve their differences and surmount their internal diffi-
culties, they will by their example be the most powerful
sales argument the democracies of the West can offer to the
people of the East.
We have a better chance in India than we had in China.
In China much of the government was corrupt and the re-
forms that should have been made and that might have
welded the people together under Chiang's leadership were
not achieved. In India the government is honest and is
India and the Awakening East
straining every sinew to make the changes that will give the
people a better life.
The statesmen of India know, I think, that the next few
years will probably tell the story whether the new govern-
ment will be able to meet the needs of the people, to sus-
tain their hopes and to give them a feeling that something
is being accomplished, or whether the people, feeling that
the change is not coming fast enough, will become dis-
couraged and turn for help to some outside force that offers
different methods and glibly promises quick and easy results.
It seems to me there is one thing our experience in China
should bring home to us. Whether the Chinese Communists
were Communists from the start and under Russian in-
fluence, or were merely agrarian reformers, as many people
in the United States first thought, the conditions that drove
them to seek a change were the all-important factor in the
sequence of further events. In both India and Pakistan we
should now look for the conditions that must be remedied
if the same thing is not to happen there, and we must find
better solutions than we found in China. Otherwise we
may fail.
Chester Bowles, in every report to Congress and in every
speech I heard him make and in every conversation, stressed
the fact that economic aid is essential if we expect India
and I would add Pakistan to develop strong and stable
governments and achieve tangible results for the benefit of
the people. Everything I myself saw and heard bears this
[224]
By Way of Conclusion
out. Only tangible results can keep the Communist appeal
from attracting the young people, the intellectuals, the
farmers or the industrial workers, who in their hopelessness
will feel they must try more drastic methods.
For the United Nations this means greater expense for
all the countries that are working together in India and
Pakistan.
For the United States it means a careful consideration of
our policies in all parts of the world. We have felt, and
rightly, I think, that it was necessary to build up our armed
strength to the point where it would be impossible for
Russia not to realize that Communist aggression anywhere
in the world would be met by prompt resistance and punish-
ment. This is costly, and brings us only one return: it gives
us time to build up our economy and to help other nations to
build up theirs.
We hear quite frequently in this country the cry that we
cannot afford to put so much money into armaments and
into the development of the atom bomb and at the same
time to give so much in economic aid to the peoples of other
countries. We can always get money for arms from Congress;
but though it has been generous with relief and rehabilita-
tion appropriations, it is not so easily convinced that eco-
nomic aid is essential. Yet in the long run it may be more
important than the money we spend for defense.
The same people who criticized our policy in China
criticize the proposed policy in India. The very people who
India and the Awakening East
voted for national defense spending and want to cut down
on plans for technical assistance are the people who once
voted to give arms to Chiang Kai-shek and voted against
economic aid to the Chinese people. They voted also against
giving economic aid to the Republic of South Korea; and
yet they are among those who are most violently critical of
the results in South Korea and China. If the same policy
of spending for defense but not for economic improvement
is followed we will create in India the very situation which
we today deplore in China and South Korea.
Even if it means sacrifice for the next few years, which
are the crucial years for the world, it is essential that we
pick the areas of the world where economic aid is primarily
important and see to it that we do not fail the governments
of those countries. I myself am convinced that India and
Pakistan are the critical areas at the moment.
We have done much for Europe. We cannot completely
and abruptly withdraw, particularly since that front is the
one nearest to us. But I think we can find less expensive
ways to stimulate European economic well-being. For one
thing we should not follow the short-sighted policy of set-
ting up tariff barriers against European goods just at the
time when our best way of helping those countries to re-
cover and to become strong lies in trading with them.
Trade is also an essential factor in the help we can give
to the underdeveloped nations of the world at this time, for
we can strongly bolster their economies by buying their raw
[226]
By Way of Conclusion
materials. I think we will have to put some of our wisest, best
trained and most astute people throughout the whole of the
Eastern and Asiatic regions. Our policies and the friendship
that we build up could tip the balance in favor of democracy
and against communism.
We need every agency of the UN at work. We must call
on science for the improvement of health and agriculture
and for the better care of children. UNESCO must develop
educational programs so that people will be able to com-
municate with each other and understand each other's ends
and means.
Above all, if the heavy burden our people and the people
of other nations are now carrying is ever to be lifted, we must
keep hammering at the Soviet government in the Disarma-
ment Conference to try to bring it to some reasonable solu-
tion, so that less money need be spent on arms and more
can be devoted to economic well-being.
One word I think I must say about the role that needs to
be played by the citizens of the United States. Somehow
we must be able to show people that democracy is not
words, but action.
One of the things that is particularly impairing our leader-
ship in many areas of the world is our treatment of mi-
norities in our own country. Everywhere a traveler from the
United States is asked whether what these people have
heard about us is true. Sometimes they recite some incident
they have heard or read about and ask whether this rep-
India and the Awakening East
resents our idea of democracy. The Soviets see to it that the
sordid stories of discrimination are known throughout the
world; it is therefore important that we should tell the story
of our efforts to improve human relations in this country
and of our many successes. We must, of course, tell the
truth and acknowledge our failures, but we should con-
stantly cite examples showing that we are continually plan-
ning and striving for a more perfect democracy.
We must show by our behavior that we believe in equality
and justice and that our religion teaches faith and love and
charity to our fellow men. Here is where each of us has a
job to do that must be done at home, because we can lose
the battle on the soil of the United States just as surely as
we can lose it in any one of the other countries of the world.
I said in the beginning of my book that I went out to the
Middle East and to Asia to get an insight into the people
and their problems. I believe that I did gain some under-
standing, and I would be happy to think that I helped some
of them to a better understanding of us.
I shall never cease to hope that I may awaken in others a
sense of the importance of these nations to the future of the
world and a realization that we have strong potential friends
there. We shall have to be willing to learn and to accept dif-
ferences of opinion and background, for they will not always
think and feel as we do, nor will they always accept our
solutions to their problems. But if we try to understand
[228]
By Way of Conclusion
them, they will, I think, come to understand us and to be-
lieve in us, and in our genuine desire to help them. For in
the end we all want the same thing. We all want peace.
In the United Nations we are making an effort to work out
the technique of living in harmony; and I have come to feel
with ever-increasing conviction that work with and through
the United Nations is the keystone to success in developing
co-operation among countries and to peace in the future.
Ind
ex
Abraham, 35
Administrative inefficiency, 15
Afghanistan, 53, 92, 97
Afghan wars, 92, 93, 95
Afridi tribesmen, 93, 94
Agra, India, 168-71
Agriculture, India, 119-20; Indo-
nesia, 213; Israel, 43; Lebanon,
5-6, 19; Nepal, 210; Pakistan,
79-80; Syria, 9
Ajanta Caves, 167-68
Akbar, 168
Aleppo, Syria, 18
Alexander the Great, 92
Ali, Mohammed, 72 n.
Aligarh, India, 176
Aligarh Moslem University, 176
Ali Khan, Begum Liaquat, 50,
63-65, 67, 68, 85, 90
AH Khan, Mir Osman, 161-62
Allahabad, India, 179-91, 202
Allahabad University, 183-91
Alliance Tire and Rubber Com-
pany, 43
All-India Women's Conference,
116, 144, 163
All Pakistan Women's Associa-
tion, 50, 57, 66, 67
Amber, India, 173
American University, Beirut, 19-
20, 26-27
Amman, Jordan, 35
Anderson, Dr* Richmond K., 157
Arabian Sea, 154
Arab-Jewish riots, 26
Arab League, 34, 37
Arab refugees, 24-34
Aryans, 211
Assam, 56
Assyrians, 3
Atal, Mr., 149, 172-73, 176
Aurangabad, India, 165-67
Aurangzeb, 170, 171
Baber, 54, 92, 168
Baghdad, 17
Bahr-el-Huleh, 40
Baifour, Lord, 25
Balfour Declaration, 25
Baluchistan, province of, 56, 66,
OQ Q~
Bangalore, India, 157, 159, 161
Bangkok, 213
Baratz, Joseph, 44-45
Bataan, 216
Bay of Bengal, 1 54, 204
Beersheba, 41-42
Beirut, Lebanon, 2, 8-9, 10, 19-
20, 27
Beit-ed-dine, 6
Bekaa, Syria, 18
Benares, India, 202-4, 2 8
Ben Gurion, David, 44, 48-49
Bunche, Dr* Ralph, 24
Bhakra, Nangal, India, 131
Bihar, India, 131
Bikram, Maharajadhira Tribhu-
bana Bir, 210-11
Index
Bolitho, Hector, 63
Bombay, India, 101, 139-47
Bowles, Chester, 102, 112, 114,
115-17, 122, 175, 208, 224
Brahmans, 133
Buddhism, 212
Buddhist temples, Nepal, 212
Burnier, Mr., 202, 203
Calcutta, India, 204-7, 208, 212
Calvary, 36
Cape Comorin, 1 54
Caste system, 133-34. *37
Cauvery River, 156
Ceylon, 154
Chamundi Bull, 155
Chamundi Temple, 155
Chenab River, 81
Chiang Kai-shek, 223, 226
Children's villages, Israel, 47-48
China, 221-24
Chittagong, Pakistan, 51, 84
Church of the Holy Sepulchre,
36
Cochrane, Merle, 213
Coimbatore, India, 122
Colleges and universities, India,
157, 176, 183-92; Israel, 36;
Lebanon, 19-20, 26-27; Pakis-
tan, 66-67, 99J Syria, 18
Colombo Plan, 121
Comay, Michael, 39
Communal settlements, Israel,
43-46 ^
Communism, 5, 10, 23, 100,
183-91, 192, 197-98, 200,
215, 222, 225
Congress, U. S., 225
Co-operative communities, Israel,
46
Corr, Maureen, i, 39, 144, 173
Cornwallis, General, 158
Corregidor, 216
Damascus, 9, 10, 14, 17, 18
Dasappa, H. G, 155, 156, 157
Dead Sea, 35
Dewey, Admiral George, 217
Degania, Israel, 43
Discovery of India, Nehru, 106-8,
182
Djakarta, Indonesia, 213, 215
Dome of the Rock, 35
East Bengal, 56, 81, 82
East Punjab, 82
Economic aid, 225-26; see also
Point Four program
Education, India, 153-54; Near
East, 15; Pakistan, 69-70;
Philippines, 218
Egyptians, 3
Electrification, Lebanon, 19
Ellora Caves, 166-67, 168
Etawah, India, 123-30, 131, 179
Faridabad, India, 132-33, 134
First World War, 4
Folk dancing, India, 137, 151;
Pakistan, 74-75
Ford Foundation, 20, 62, 67, 80,
85, 121-22, 129, 200
Fort Ali Masjid, 95
Gandhi, Mohandas, 102, 117,
133, 134, 175, 176, 191, 192,
195-96
Ganges River, 81, 202-4
General Electric Company, 84
Genghis Khan, 54
Index
George VI, of England, 37
Ghosh, Sudhir, 132-33
Ghulam, Mohammed, 58, 78
Gideon, Mr., 39
Governmental standards, 15-16
Graham, Dr. Frank P., 53, 178-79
Greek influence, 3
Guam, 220
Gurewitsch, Dr. David, 1-2, 39,
96, 97, 144, 149, 156, 173,
188, 202
Hadera, Israel, 43
Haifa, Israel, 43
Hastings, Warren, 158
Hebrew University, 36, 37
Himalayas, 50, 131, 208, 212
Hinduism, 212
Hindu Rush, 53, 92, 94
Hindu-Moslem rivalry, 53-57
Hirakud, India, 131
Hittites, 3
Hoffman, Paul, 200-1
Holi carnival, 163, 172
Holmes, Horace, 123-25
Honolulu, 220
Hooghly River, 204
Hostility, Lebanon, 2-3
Housing projects, 14; India, 138;
Israel, 42; Pakistan, 77-78, 85
Huleh swamps, Israel, 40
Hussain, Dr. Zakir, 176
Hutheesing, Raja, 147
Hyde Park, 220
Hyderabad, India, 161-65
Hyder Ali, 157-58
Illiteracy, 7-8
Immigrants, Israel, 27, 40-42, 47
Imperialism, American, 114
India, 101-207, 221, 223-24,
226; agriculture, 119-20; Brit-
ish influence, 159-61; British
rule in, 54-55, 113; caste sys-
tem, 133-34, 137; cattle, 126-
127; colleges and universities;
122, 143, 157, 176, 183-92;
communism, 192, 197-98, 200;
democratic republic, 56 n.;
democracy in, 111-12; educa-
tion, 153-54; emancipation of
women, 21; fertilizer, 132; Five
Year Plan, no, 119, 130, 153,
199; food situation, 118; hous-
ing, 138; independence, no;
international co-operation, 121-
123; irrigation, 120-21, 130-32;
Point Four aid, 114, 123, 130,
132, 154; political parties,
109-10; population, 118-19;
power systems, 130-31; princely
states, 52; quarrel with Paki-
stan, 52-57; refugees, 204; re-
nunciation, 194-200; Russian
propaganda, 206-7; sanitation,
127-28; self-government, 55;
water problem, 120-21
Indian Civil Service, 61, 120, 173
Indian Constitution, 105, 134
Indian Ocean, 50, 154
Indonesia, 213-16
Indus River, 82-83
Industry, Israel, 42-43; Lebanon,
6, 9; Pakistan, 51, 83-84; Syria,
9
International Bank, 48, 79
Iran, 42
Irrigation, India, 120-21; 130-32;
Israel, 38; Lebanon, 19; Paki-
stan, 51, 8 0-8 1
Index
Israel, 24, 27, 33-34, 113, 221;
agriculture, 43; children's vil-
lages, 47-48; communal settle-
ments, 43-46; dedicated land,
35-49; diversity and elasticity,
46-47; financial crisis, 48;
housing, 42; immigrants, 27,
40-42, 47; industry, 42-43;
irrigation, 38; Point Four aid,
48; population, 38; reparations
from Germany, 48
Israel Development Corporation,
43-44
Israeli- Arab dispute, 22-34, 44-45
Jaipur, India, 171-75
Jamrud Fort, 93
Japan, Pakistan trade, 86-87
Java, 213-14
Jehan, Shah, 168, 169
Jericho, 35
Jerusalem, 12, 24, 35-38
Jesus of Nazareth, 36
Jhelum River, 81
Jinnah, Fatima, 62-63
Jinnah, Mohammed Ali, 62, 69
Johnson and Johnson, 84
John the Baptist, 35
Jordan, 9-10, 14, 29-30; Point
Four aid, 17; political back-
ground, 4; population, 23
Jordan River, 38, 40
Juliana, Queen of the Nether-
lands, 220
Jumma Masjid, mosque of, 1 59
Jumna River, 117
Kaiser-Frazer plant, 43
Karachi, Pakistan, 50, 51, 57-91,
92, 101, 103
Karnafuli, East Pakistan, 83
Kashmir, 52, 53, 82, 102, 179
Kathiawar Peninsula, 135
Katju, Dr., 179-80, 182, 194-95,
199
Katmandu, Nepal, 116, 208, 212
Kaur, Rajkumari Amrit, 102
Khan, Lady Zafrullah, 73-74
Khan, Sir Zafrullah, 73
Khoury, Bechara el, 13
Khyber Pass, 51-52, 53, 92-100,
151
Khyber Rifles, 93
King and I, The, 152
Kipling, Rudyard, 94
Knesset (Israeli parliament), 39
Koran, 68-69
Korea, 223, 226
Kotxi Barrage, 80
Krishnarajsegar Dam, 155-56
Kshatriyas, 133
Lahore, Pakistan, 60, 65, 73, 78,
101
Lake Success, 25
Lake Tiberias, 45
League of Women Voters, 71
Lebanon, 2-9, 13-14; agriculture,
5-6, 19; American University
at Beirut, 19-20, 26-27; elec-
trification, 19; hostility, 2-3;
illiteracy, 7-8; industry, 6, 9;
irrigation, 19; Point Four aid,
4~5? J9J political background,
3-4; population, 7; poverty, 5;
refugee camps, 28-29, SQ'S 1 ?
refugees, 30; religious tolera'
tion, 23; water supplies, 19
Lebanon Parliament, 23
Lydda, Israel, 50
[234]
Index
Mahal, Ivlumtaz, 170
Mahmud of Ghazni, 53, 92
Malik, Begum Husain, 57-58, 62,
65
Malik, Dr. Charles, i
Manila, P. L, 216-19
Mardan, Pakistan, 94
Mass evacuation, 32
Mecca, 36
Mehta, Hansa, 205
Menuhin, Yehudi, 143-44, 166
Meyer, Albert, 123
Minor, Harold, 12
Minority groups, 115, 227-28
Mitter, Lady, 205
Moab Mountains, 35
Modi, Governor, 124, 179
Mogul empire, 54
Mohammed, 36
Mohammedan religion, 21-24
Mongols, 211
Morocco, 42
Moslem influence, 3
Moslem invaders, 53-54
Mosque of Omar, 35
Mountbatten, Lady, 104-5
Mountbatten, Lord Louis, 56,
103, 105
Mount Everest, 212
Mount Scopus, 36, 37
Mutual Security Agency (MSA),
121
Mysore, India, 154-57
Mysore University, 157
National Congress Party, India,
55, 56, 108-9, 175
National Moslem League, India,
55
Nazimudden, Khwaja, 72-73, 78
Nebuchadnezzar, 35
Negev, 38, 40, 41
Nehru, Jawaharlal, 82, 90, 102,
105-10, 134, 176, 178, 179-80,
l8l-82, 185, 190, 198, 200-1,
2O7
Nepal, 208-12
Netherlands, 215
New Delhi, India, 101, 102-17,
134. I7r79> *96> 208
New Delhi University, 191
Noon, Lady Firoz Khan, 85
North-West Frontier Province,
Pakistan, 56
North-West Frontier University,
99
Ording, Aak, xi
Pakistan, 50-91, 101-2, 113, 221,
223, 224, 226; agriculture,
79-80; army, 52; bridges and
dams, 81; colleges and univer-
sities, 66-67, 99 education,
69-70; emancipation of women,
21, 57, 65-75; flw of rivers,
82; folk dancing, 74-75; gov-
ernment personnel, 61-62;
health, 76-77; hospitals, 76-77,
78; housing, 77-78, 85; indus-
try, 51, 83-84; irrigation, 51,
8 0-8 1 ; monogamy, trend to-
ward, 68; partition, 51-52, 56;
Point Four aid, 79-80; power
developments, 83; purdah, cus-
tom, 68-74; quarrel with India,
52-57; refugees, 75-77; trade
situation, 86-87; tribal disci-
pline, 89
Index
Pandit, Madame Vijaya Lakshmi,
102, 144, 147, 176, 179-80,
185, 1 86, 187, 202
Paris, i
Parsees, 142
Penrose, Dr. S. B. L., 20, 26-27
Persians, 3
Peshawar, Pakistan, 78, 92, 93,
95> 99
Pharaon, Henri, 14
Philippines, 216-19
Phoenicians, 3, 7, 8
Point Four program, 4-5, 17, 19,
20, 48, 79-80, 114, 121, 123,
130, 132, 154, 209
Population, India, 118-19; Israel,
38; Jordan, 23; Lebanon, 7;
Syria, 23
Prasad, Rajenda, 103, 175, 178,
191
Proclamation of the State of Is-
rael, 39
Punjab, 56, 60, 8 1, 95, 123
Purdah, custom of, 68-74
Quirino, President, 219
Rajghat, India, 1 1 7
Ram, Radha Sri, 202
Rangoon, 213
Rasul, Pakistan, 81, 83
Ravi River, 82
Red Cross, 29, 32, 105
Refugee camps, Lebanon, 28-29,
30-31
Refugees, Arab, 24-34; India,
204; Lebanon, 30; Pakistan,
75-77; Philippine, 217
Religious toleration, Lebanon, 23
Republic of China, 215
Republic of South Korea, 226
River, The, 175-76, 202
Rizal Stadium, Manila, 219
Rockefeller Foundation, 122
Rockefeller Foundation Research
Institute, 157
Rock of the Ascension, 36
Roman influence, 3
Roosevelt, Franklin D., 58, 60,
71, 156
Roosevelt, James, 60
Roosevelt, John, 220
Roosevelt, Theodore, 140
Rose, Mr. and Mrs., 209-10
Rothschild-Hadassah Medical Cen-
ter, 36
Saheb, Jam, of Nawanagar, 135-
139
St. Thomas, 151-52
San Agustin, church of, 217
Santiniketan University, 191-92
Saudi Arabia, 40
Saurashtra, India, 135
Selenie, Syria, 18
Seringapatam, India, 157, 158
Sheba, Dr. Chain, 39
Shere Ali, 95
Sibi, Baluchistan, 66, 88-89
Sind, province of, 56
Sindri, India, 132
Singh, Jai, 171-72
Singh, Rani Maharaj, 144
Singh, Sir Hari, 93
Soekarno, President, 214
Solomon's Temple, 35
Soviet Union, 23, 206-7, 227
Spring, Lucy, 70
Spruance, Ambassador and Mrs.,
216
[236]
Index
Stalin, Joseph, 222
Stanton, Edwin, 213
Sudras, 133
Sutlej River, 82, 131
Syria, 14; agriculture, 9; colleges,
1 8; constitution, 18, 21; in-
dustry, 9; land holdings, 18;
Point Four aid, 17; political
background, 4; population, 23
Tagore, Rabindranath, 191
Taj Mahal, 168, 169-71, 179
Tamerlane, 54
Tariff barriers, 226
Tata, Jamshedji, 142-43
Tata Institute of Social Sciences,
MS
Thai Project, Punjab, 81
Tippoo Sahib, 157-58
Tito, Marshal, 222
Trade, 226-27
Trivandrum, India, 147-54
Tungabhadra River, 131
Tyler, Mr., American consul at
Jerusalem, 37
Unemployment, 10
United Nations, 22, 24, 26, 27,
33, 52, 81, 214, 222, 223,
225, 227, 228; Arab Refugee
Agency, 33; Committee on
Human Rights, i; Economic
Commission for Asia and the
Far East, 79; Educational, So-
cial and Cultural Organization
(UNESCO), 122, 154, 227;
Food and Agricultural Organ-
ization, 79, 122; International
Children's Emergency Fund,
77, 1 1 6, 122; Relief and
Worts Agency for Palestine
Refugees, 29; Technical As-
sistance program, 122
United States Information Serv-
ice Center, 206
Untouchables, 133, 134
Vaisyas, 133
Velloidi, Mr., 163
Via Dolorosa, 36
Wailing Wall of the Jews, 35
Wake Island, 220
Warren, Avra, 80
Warsak, Pakistan, 83
Weizmann, Chaim, 25
Wellington, Duke of, 158
Wilson, Mr. and Mrs,, 205-6
Women, emancipation, 20-21;
India, 21; Pakistan, 57, 65-75;
Philippine, 218
World Bank, 82
World Health Organization
(WHO), 119, 121
Yemen, 40, 42
Yemenites, 40-41
Yen, James, 218
Youth Aliyah, 47
Yugoslavia, 222
Yunus Khan, Major, 102
[237]
Set in Linotype Electra
Format by Robert Cheney
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