WeeklyWorker

23.10.1997

A right royal mess

The spirit of the empire is not quite dead - yet. This is the lesson of the queen’s visit to Pakistan and India last week, timed to coincide with the 50th anniversary of their declaration of independence - and the bloody imperialist partition of the subcontinent, which led to such massive communalist and sectarian slaughter.

It is clear that the queen and her entourage wanted to relive past imperial glories and bask in the retrospective light of the Raj - while at the same time appearing appropriately contrite. This would hopefully improve her tarnished image back home and keep the press off her back.

It was never going to work out like that. Irrepressible imperial arrogance and haughtiness were guaranteed to surface. Sensitivity was never the strong point of the British monarchy.

This was amply demonstrated right at the beginning of the trip. At the official reception for the queen and the Indian president, KR Narayanan, her name was placed above that of president’s on the invitation card. This upset all the Indian newspapers and a large swathe of public opinion.

The row over the ‘Madras speech’ also saw the British delegation engaging in petty diplomatic games, in a pathetic attempt to reassert imperial authority. British officials told reporters that the Indian government had “cancelled” a speech the queen was due to give in Madras. In fact, as the Indians pointed out, the speech had never been scheduled in the first place. Even though the British delegation claimed there had been a “slight misunderstanding”, it is clear that the high commission officials in Delhi and Madras had attempted to bulldoze their way through protocol - to “bully Indians into acceptance”, as Talmiz Ahmed, the external affairs ministry spokesperson, put it.

The queen’s visit to the scene of the 1919 Amritsar massacre encapsulated the superior detachment of the monarchy. This was one of the savage atrocities of the British empire and is seared into the Indian psyche. The official British count was that 379 Indians were killed by British troops under the command of General Reginald Dyer - who became something of a hero afterwards amongst the British establishment - at the open ground a few hundred yards from the Golden Temple. In reality, many more were killed.

Being the first British monarch to visit the scene, it had been expected that the queen would issue some sort of apology, or at the very least make some vague remorseful comments. She said nothing. Even worse, her famously chauvinist husband, Prince Phillip, when looking at a plaque which mentions the 2,000 martyred that day, challenged the figure: “That’s wrong. I was in the navy with Dyer’s son.”

These constant snubs, and reminders of the humiliation which the Raj brought, fed a need for retaliation. These took the form of low-key but irritating diplomatic provocations, as far as the British delegation was concerned. One such incident saw the Indians telling the British that the Royal Marines band was not allowed to play in front of the queen and president Narayanan at a ceremony to open a British exhibition at India’s national museum. The same day, at a state banquet to welcome the queen, every British diplomat bar the high commissioner was excluded at the last moment.

However the most serious wound was inflicted by the “third rate power” jibe of the prime minister, Inder Kumar Gurjal. He denied ever making it of course, but it was designed to puncture imperial pride. Gurjal’s comment was also made for domestic consumption, in view of the difficulty he is experiencing with his coalition partners and the slump in his popularity. As he intended, his remark was greeted with delight - especially by the newspapers and New Delhi’s dinner party circuit. Indian officials advised newspaper editors they could print Gurjal’s “third rate power” remark and his ‘official’ denial. Take your pick.

It must come as a big shock to some, but the queen is regarded in India as a mere mortal - and a particularly undesirable one at that. As one so far unnamed Labour MP stated, “Relations between Britain and India are at a crossroads. It is about a former colony making a stand. They are saying, ‘You may be the queen of England, but here you are just like any other head of state’.” This view is supported by The Times of India, which trumpeted: “She came, she saw, but did not conquer” (both quoted in The Guardian October 16).

These snubs against the queen and the spirit of the Raj have rustled the feathers of rightwing newspapers in this country. William Dalrymple of The Sunday Telegraph thundered:

“Does the British taxpayer really wish the bulk of his foreign aid budget to go to a country where the prime minister holds us in undisguised contempt, where his foreign office feels quite free to behave with straightforward rudeness both to our queen and our diplomats, and where the local press rejoice in our every small humiliation?” (October 18).

Foreign secretary Robin Cook’s role on this trip further underlines the way New Labour is trying to reconfigure Britain’s ‘new’ monarchy. Whereas the past saw the palace quietly cover up the gaffes of HRH’s government, new Labour steps bravely into the breech - to wallpaper over the cracks of a crumbling monarchy. First, Whitehall’s ‘spin’ over Diana Windsor’s death and now a rescue attempt during this royal tour.

Communists applaud “every small humiliation” of the British monarchy and British imperialism - past and present. British rule in this sub-continent was cruel and oppressive, involving big humiliations every day. The only ‘civilisation’ Britain brought to the region - unless you count cricket and polo - is that described by Marx as being “born in a sea of blood”. The empire has left a poisonous legacy of racism, communalism and inequality.

Paul Greenaway