third eye
ELITE MEMBER
- Joined
- Aug 24, 2008
- Messages
- 18,519
- Reaction score
- 13
- Country
- Location
On August 4, 1914, the British empire declared war on Germany. The young maharajah of this desert kingdom in Rajasthan saw this as a glorious opportunity to emulate his ancestors, the Bika Rathores, of whom 17 out of 21 had led their own troops in warfare.
Ganga Singh, 21st Maharajah of Bikaner, was not the only prince to see himself in this light.The Times of India used similar language in August 1914: “The swords of the martial Princes leapt from their scabbards.” Little did they know what was to come. As a matter of fact, the Indian subcontinent was surprisingly united in “sharing the responsibilities of Empire”, as the young Mohandas Gandhi put it. He and other reformers hoped that by willingly entering the war India would show herself worthy of self-government. More worldly observers, probably including Bikaner, predicted a German/Ottoman alliance moving men and material down through the Middle East and up through Afghanistan, thereby threatening the North-West frontier: this happened in 1916.
The 34-year-old Rajput arrived in north France in October with an appointment on the HQ staff of the 7th Indian Division stationed near Bethune; from there he was assigned to the headquarters staff of Sir John French, Commander-in-Chief of the British Expeditionary Force. He saw no action and was intensely frustrated. His highness was not allowed to risk his life, for in Europe the days when a prince was expected to lead his troops into battle were gone.
In January 1915, the maharajah had to return home because his daughter was seriously ill. So, on the way back, he stopped off in Egypt to visit his Camel Corps, engaged in the defence of the Suez Canal against the Turkish army. The Ganga Risala was the only camel corps east of the Suez Canal and it had been engaged in many patrols and skirmishes before its proper commander arrived. In February 1915, the Turks under Djemal Pasha attacked the Canal itself and, as luck would have it, a large contingent found its way blocked at Katib el Khel by the Camel Corps led by the maharajah himself. A fight ensued and subsequently the Turks withdrew, pursued by camels.
This was the only action the maharajah took part in and he did not return to the Great War. The Ganga Risala, however, covered itself in glory. The Corps was in Egypt throughout the war, eventually numbering in the field 1,067 troopers, 166 ‘followers’ and 1,254 camels. After its first engagement in the Sinai in November 1914, it fought many battles against the Ottoman empire through to the end of the war and won many honours. Just four days after the First World War ended, the Maharajah of Bikaner was summoned urgently to London. His immediate task as a representative of India in the Imperial War Cabinet was to join discussions about a peace settlement consequent upon the armistice (truce) with Germany signed on November 11. By this time he had become in his own words “not only a ruler of a great state, but an Indian statesman”. He had conceived the Council of Princes, an important power bloc because the 600 Indian princes between them ruled one third of the land mass of India. Surprising as it may seem today, it had a specific reforming agenda. Bikaner spelt this out in London in April 1917: “Our aspiration is to see our country attaining, under the standard of the King-Emperor, the self- government and autonomy which you in this country secured long ago and which our more fortunate sister Dominions (the so-called White Dominions of Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa) have enjoyed for some time past.”
The maharajah’s considerable diplomatic achievements over the next six months must be judged with this in mind. He had two things going for him. The first: he was a favourite of both King George V and the prime minister. Lloyd George wrote in hisWar Memoirs: “‘Bikaner’, as he was familiarly and affectionately called—the Indian Prince —was a magnificent specimen of manhood of his great country. We soon found he was one of “the wise men that came from the East”. More and more did we come to rely on his advice, especially on all matters that affected India.”
Lloyd George was well aware of Ganga Singh’s reforming agenda—and he agreed with it. “We will never govern India as it ought to be governed until we have given it freedom,” he said. Today that sounds like a complete contradiction. But in 1919, when the Government of India Act became law (result of the Montagu-Chelmsford reforms to which Bikaner contributed), few apart from the Congress party revolutionaries doubted for a moment what exactly autonomy meant: self-rule within the British empire, though this changed soon. The maharajah would have found abandoning the king-emperor a sacrilege.
The second was the contribution of the Indian army to the Allied cause in the First World War. Over one million soldiers served overseas (higher estimates do exist), mostly on the Western Front and in Mesopotamia, and 75,000 lost their lives. Few doubted that this “sacrifice” entitled India to have her say in the peace settlement.
After a forceful argument by Lloyd George, it was agreed that the major White Dominions and India should each have two ‘plenipotentiaries’ to represent them at the Peace Conference that began in Paris in January 1919. Initially, the Maharajah of Bikaner was named an “Adviser” but after the newly ennobled Lord S.P. Sinha returned to London to steer through the Parliament the India Act, Ganga Singh and the secretary of state for India, Lord Montagu, became the two plenipotentiaries. They would both sign the eventual Treaty of Versailles. This was an honour, of course, and conferred a high status, but in truth the role of plenipotentiary did not involve much else. The real power lay with the Council of Three, President Wilson of the US, Prime Minister Clemenceau of France and Prime Minister Lloyd George of Great Britain. They met informally and in secret, heard opinions, made decisions and delegated them to commissions for ratification and wording.
The exception to this was the founding of the League of Nations. Long before the end of the First World War, statesmen had pondered the setting up of an assembly of the world’s nations to try to make war impossible in the future, and this was the first major task to be undertaken in Paris. For the plenipotentiaries representing the British empire, this offered a huge prize to be won, not for the empire but for their own individual countries. Assuming the League was to endure, independent membership with the right to vote against Great Britain would be the strongest proof of self-government. This was not lost on the maharajah, but how could India possibly join when Article 7 of the draft covenant clearly stated “admission to the League shall be limited to fully self-governing countries including dominions and colonies”? Ganga Singh pulled out all the stops. In a formal declaration, he invoked India’s ancient civilisation, its membership of one-fifth of the human race, its huge sacrifices for freedom in the war, its “special representation at the Council table of the Peace Conference” (i.e. plenipotentiary status). He ended forcefully: “It is inconceivable that India should now be told to walk out as no longer belonging to the civilised nations of the world”.
Ganga Singh, 21st Maharajah of Bikaner, was not the only prince to see himself in this light.The Times of India used similar language in August 1914: “The swords of the martial Princes leapt from their scabbards.” Little did they know what was to come. As a matter of fact, the Indian subcontinent was surprisingly united in “sharing the responsibilities of Empire”, as the young Mohandas Gandhi put it. He and other reformers hoped that by willingly entering the war India would show herself worthy of self-government. More worldly observers, probably including Bikaner, predicted a German/Ottoman alliance moving men and material down through the Middle East and up through Afghanistan, thereby threatening the North-West frontier: this happened in 1916.
The 34-year-old Rajput arrived in north France in October with an appointment on the HQ staff of the 7th Indian Division stationed near Bethune; from there he was assigned to the headquarters staff of Sir John French, Commander-in-Chief of the British Expeditionary Force. He saw no action and was intensely frustrated. His highness was not allowed to risk his life, for in Europe the days when a prince was expected to lead his troops into battle were gone.
In January 1915, the maharajah had to return home because his daughter was seriously ill. So, on the way back, he stopped off in Egypt to visit his Camel Corps, engaged in the defence of the Suez Canal against the Turkish army. The Ganga Risala was the only camel corps east of the Suez Canal and it had been engaged in many patrols and skirmishes before its proper commander arrived. In February 1915, the Turks under Djemal Pasha attacked the Canal itself and, as luck would have it, a large contingent found its way blocked at Katib el Khel by the Camel Corps led by the maharajah himself. A fight ensued and subsequently the Turks withdrew, pursued by camels.
This was the only action the maharajah took part in and he did not return to the Great War. The Ganga Risala, however, covered itself in glory. The Corps was in Egypt throughout the war, eventually numbering in the field 1,067 troopers, 166 ‘followers’ and 1,254 camels. After its first engagement in the Sinai in November 1914, it fought many battles against the Ottoman empire through to the end of the war and won many honours. Just four days after the First World War ended, the Maharajah of Bikaner was summoned urgently to London. His immediate task as a representative of India in the Imperial War Cabinet was to join discussions about a peace settlement consequent upon the armistice (truce) with Germany signed on November 11. By this time he had become in his own words “not only a ruler of a great state, but an Indian statesman”. He had conceived the Council of Princes, an important power bloc because the 600 Indian princes between them ruled one third of the land mass of India. Surprising as it may seem today, it had a specific reforming agenda. Bikaner spelt this out in London in April 1917: “Our aspiration is to see our country attaining, under the standard of the King-Emperor, the self- government and autonomy which you in this country secured long ago and which our more fortunate sister Dominions (the so-called White Dominions of Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa) have enjoyed for some time past.”
The maharajah’s considerable diplomatic achievements over the next six months must be judged with this in mind. He had two things going for him. The first: he was a favourite of both King George V and the prime minister. Lloyd George wrote in hisWar Memoirs: “‘Bikaner’, as he was familiarly and affectionately called—the Indian Prince —was a magnificent specimen of manhood of his great country. We soon found he was one of “the wise men that came from the East”. More and more did we come to rely on his advice, especially on all matters that affected India.”
Lloyd George was well aware of Ganga Singh’s reforming agenda—and he agreed with it. “We will never govern India as it ought to be governed until we have given it freedom,” he said. Today that sounds like a complete contradiction. But in 1919, when the Government of India Act became law (result of the Montagu-Chelmsford reforms to which Bikaner contributed), few apart from the Congress party revolutionaries doubted for a moment what exactly autonomy meant: self-rule within the British empire, though this changed soon. The maharajah would have found abandoning the king-emperor a sacrilege.
The second was the contribution of the Indian army to the Allied cause in the First World War. Over one million soldiers served overseas (higher estimates do exist), mostly on the Western Front and in Mesopotamia, and 75,000 lost their lives. Few doubted that this “sacrifice” entitled India to have her say in the peace settlement.
After a forceful argument by Lloyd George, it was agreed that the major White Dominions and India should each have two ‘plenipotentiaries’ to represent them at the Peace Conference that began in Paris in January 1919. Initially, the Maharajah of Bikaner was named an “Adviser” but after the newly ennobled Lord S.P. Sinha returned to London to steer through the Parliament the India Act, Ganga Singh and the secretary of state for India, Lord Montagu, became the two plenipotentiaries. They would both sign the eventual Treaty of Versailles. This was an honour, of course, and conferred a high status, but in truth the role of plenipotentiary did not involve much else. The real power lay with the Council of Three, President Wilson of the US, Prime Minister Clemenceau of France and Prime Minister Lloyd George of Great Britain. They met informally and in secret, heard opinions, made decisions and delegated them to commissions for ratification and wording.
The exception to this was the founding of the League of Nations. Long before the end of the First World War, statesmen had pondered the setting up of an assembly of the world’s nations to try to make war impossible in the future, and this was the first major task to be undertaken in Paris. For the plenipotentiaries representing the British empire, this offered a huge prize to be won, not for the empire but for their own individual countries. Assuming the League was to endure, independent membership with the right to vote against Great Britain would be the strongest proof of self-government. This was not lost on the maharajah, but how could India possibly join when Article 7 of the draft covenant clearly stated “admission to the League shall be limited to fully self-governing countries including dominions and colonies”? Ganga Singh pulled out all the stops. In a formal declaration, he invoked India’s ancient civilisation, its membership of one-fifth of the human race, its huge sacrifices for freedom in the war, its “special representation at the Council table of the Peace Conference” (i.e. plenipotentiary status). He ended forcefully: “It is inconceivable that India should now be told to walk out as no longer belonging to the civilised nations of the world”.
