Sunrise Soliloquy

The sun never set last week on the British Empire's internal troubles. Eire--which despite its rugged individualism is still a member of the British Commonwealth of Nations--seethed with anti-English feeling (see col. 2). Canada, in the throes of an important election, lost her Governor General (see p. 27). In the Union of South Africa former Prime Minister James Hertzog, who recently defended Adolf Hitler's policies and, like the Fuehrer, blamed the Versailles Treaty for the war, worked to convert the Union into a republic, urged a separate peace with Germany. Prime Minister Jan Christiaan Smuts, who said General Hertzog's speech sounded like Mein Kampf, kept South Africa at war by a Parliamentary vote of 81 to 59, charged widespread Nazi activity in the Union.

The Government of London could do little overtly to straighten out the difficulties of these self-governing units. But there was also increasing trouble in a corner of the Empire which does not run itself, and here London could and did decidedly act. At New Delhi, lavish capital of India, a little skinny man dressed in homespun cotton garments, with a shawl drooped around his shoulders, passed through the imposing gates of The Viceroy's House.

For two and one-half hours Mohandas K. Gandhi and Lord Linlithgow conferred. Well did His Excellency know that the millions of Gandhi followers were fairly itching to have their beloved Mahatma declare that the time had come for them to go on strike against British rule. Well did he know that in this war India has not contributed anything like the money or the soldiers she did in the last. He knew very well also what another Gandhi-directed civil disobedience campaign would meana transportation tie-up of badly-needed supplies, calling out large Indian Army units, a constant worry that Soviet Russia might find such a difficult British moment propitious for launching a Middle Eastern "diversion."

As for the Mahatma, he simply wanted Indian independence. He might have been satisfied to get "dominion status." His minimum demands were a freely-elected Indian legislature and cabinet at New Delhi. The Viceroy had half a mind to grant the Mahatma an all-Indian cabinet, reserving, however, the portfolios of Defense and Foreign Affairs for the British Raj. The Mahatma sternly declined and the conference broke up. The Viceroy issued a cordial communique; the Mahatma, the next morning at dawn, invited newsmen to listen to a "sunrise soliloquy" delivered by himself.

Gandhi sat on a sheet-covered mat, his hands folded under a white cotton blanket. A shorthand expert was on one side; on the other were two women disciples, one of them Madeleine Slade, daughter of a British admiral. A "wide gulf" separated Britain and India, began the Mahatma. There was no "prospect whatsoever of a peaceful, honorable settlement" until Britain let the Indians determine their own status. And then: "When this is done, questions regarding defense of minorities, princes and European interests automatically will be dissolved. ... If Britain cannot recognize India's legitimate claims, what will it be but Britain's moral bankruptcy?"

The next move, he thought, was up to Lord Linlithgow. The next move, others thought, was up to him.

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