Once upon a time in the East

While over two billion viewers on television and Internet and about half a million stood along the procession route in London to witness Prince William’s wedding, there was hardly anyone present at the coronation ceremony of the 12-year old Kumar Padmanabh Singh, the new Maharaja of Jaipur in India, once considered the biggest jewel in the British Crown. Such can be the glaring contrasts of times.
There was a time, when princely rulers of over five hundred princely states commanded the destiny of about one-third of the total Indian population inhabiting two-third of the sub-continental landmass – the state of Mewar in Rajasthan founded in 800 AD and ruled by the Udaipur Dynasty being the oldest dynasty in the world. Some of the princes may have been oppressive and corrupt but overall they were looked upon by their subjects as ‘Ma-Baap’ (father and mother) and ‘Annadata’ (giver of food). About fifteen centuries ago, the famous poet Kalidas while explaining the relationship between the ruler and the ruled stated that the Indian ruler was like the sun which sucked up water from the ocean and the vegetation but gave back fourfold in the monsoon.
The independent status of the Indian princedoms became semi-independent after Queen Victoria’s November 1858 Royal Proclamation whereby they were to ‘underpin and support’ the British Raj. This they did with exemplary loyalty. For example, at the age of seventy, the Maharaja of Jodhpur personally accompanied the Jodhpur Lancers into the trenches of France and Palestine. During the successful take-over of Heifa, his orders to his troops were curt and crisp: “You can go forward and be killed by the enemy’s bullets or you can fall back and be executed by me.”
The same spirit was shown by the princely rulers during the two World Wars, when not only forces of Jaipur, Jodhpur, Kashmir, Gwalior and Patiala fought along the British on several fronts but the Maharajas of Jaipur, Cooch Bihar, Kohlapur and Bundi distinguished personally in action. However, a century of this unquestioned loyalty was betrayed by the British monarch at the time of transfer of power in 1947, when, despite princedoms’ direct treaties with the Crown, they were thrown at the mercy of Congress and the League to fend for themselves.
A dramatic accession was signed by the Maharaja of Jodhpur, who pulled out his revolver and warned Patel’s secretary that he would “shoot him like a dog if he betrayed the starving people of Jodhpur.”
Many people in the states lived in abject poverty because some of the princes such as Bhupinder Singh of Patiala kept about half of state’s annual revenue for personal spending. Others like Jagatjit Singh of Kapurthala lived a life like that of French monarchs, evident from the statement of Rajendrasinhji of Idar: “I could point to ten if not twenty palaces in India such as the palaces of the Maharajas of Jodhpur and Mysore before which the Queen’s palace pales by comparison.” Moreover, Osman Ali Pasha, the Nizam of Hydrabad was the richest man in the world with £ 30 million in coffers, jewellery estimated to be worth at least as much, rooms full of gold bullion and lands that brought in 35 crores of rupees, annually.
When Queen Mary would be on a visit, her princely host would try to hide all the precious things because whenever she wanted to take something, she would say, “Oh, Your Highness, isn’t this lovely! May I take it home and ask someone to find another like it?” But that thing would never come back. And whenever Lady Willingdon wanted to extract a gift, she would say, “Oh, Your Highness, how lovely this is” and the host would have no option but to give it to her.
Several princes also developed gastronomy to the level of an art, particularly the state of Rampur, which was known for the finest cuisine in the subcontinent. Its ruler Nawab Hamid Ali, though himself ate just one meal a day yet hired a hundred cooks and spent about rupees two and a half lacs per year on Indian food and one and a half lacs on English food for his personal kitchen.
The Maharaja of Baroda had introduced free but compulsory primary education whereas the Raja of Sawantwadi had introduced the Sharada Act that forbade old men from marrying young girls. Similarly, the state of Gondal was the first to make female education compulsory. The importance given to the maintenance of law and order in Hydrabad can be imagined from a letter of its Kotwal, which stated that “he hadn’t had any leave for thirty-eight years and if he could please take a day off as his wife wasn’t very well.”
This princely order with all its grandeur and mystique silently faded into history. For more than anyone, it was a personal tragedy for the princes, who lost their coveted social status and munificence. The unfortunate ones almost became paupers as is clear from the parting comments of a prince, who was attending a meeting of the princes, convened in response to June 1967 Congress resolution calling for the abolition of all princely privileges and privy purses: “I am afraid this is the last meeting I’m going to attend because my privy purse is 192 rupees and I cannot afford the train fare.” Prince William and his likes are lucky to be still enjoying the monarchical splendor.

The writer is an academic and journalist. He can be reached at [email protected]