Remembering Partition

In 1947, Delhi's population was around 9.5 lakh. After Partition, 3.3 lakh Muslims left,
leaving about 6 lakh residents. Nearly 5 lakh non-Muslim refugees arrived, balancing the
population. By late August, 130,000 refugees came to Delhi, with 30,000 in the last two
weeks. Thousands were in camps like Jama Masjid maidan and the 'Pak Transfer Office' in
Connaught Place. Muslims sought safety in areas like Jama Masjid and Nizamuddin, then
moved to larger camps at Purana Qila and Humayun’s Tomb, totaling 62,000 to 63,000 each.
By mid-September, many Muslims had fled, making Delhi a 'refugee-istan' with countless
displaced individuals.

Partition and Independence were not just abstract ideas but had profound physical and
emotional impacts. Some never truly felt Independence but only the pain of Partition and
separation from his family in Pakistan. The reality of Independence became clear to them
through the violence of Partition, making it inseparable from the concept of freedom. In
northern India, the divide between the privileged celebrating freedom and refugees mourning
losses was stark on August 15, 1947. While the privileged rejoiced, refugees faced
uncertainty and fear.

Krishna Sobti's experience during Partition reflects a stark duality. Arriving in Delhi from
Lahore for her birthday in 1947, she stayed due to the partition, her home becoming a refuge
for those who lost everything. On Independence Eve, they celebrated patriotically, but the
division between residents and refugees was palpable. The offering of sweets in the national
colours marked a poignant moment as the refugees quietly departed.

Similarly, G. D. Khosla, a Punjab high court judge, moved from Lahore to Mussoorie for
summer in 1947. He witnessed the transfer-of-power ceremony in Delhi but later investigated
disputes between Delhi's displaced Muslims and refugees from West Pakistan.

During September 1947 in Delhi, writers like Abul Kalam Azad and Anees Qidwai vividly
depicted the horrors faced by Muslims, who were afraid to venture outside due to rampant
murders. A British resident reported systematic killings, with bodies left in the streets and
hospitals overwhelmed. Despite curfew, armed Sikhs moved freely perpetrating violence. In a
horrific incident, a hospital for refugees was raided, resulting in the deaths of three Muslim
patients.
At the same time, Hindu militants threatened those protecting low-caste Muslims in Sadar
Bazaar's mohalla Jatan. Indian and European volunteers in Muslim refugee camps also faced
threats from small Sikh groups. This violence, rooted in extremist propaganda, uncertainty,
and refugee influx, had been ongoing and escalated in September. Mohallas erected
protective gates, with authorities mainly targeting Muslims. Feeling defenceless, many saw
escape to Pakistan or refugee camps as their sole recourse.

In September, Anees Qidwai estimated 80,000 to 100,000 people at Purana Qila. By October,
it had dropped to around 60,000. The scene was chaotic—tents, tin roofs, and distressed
people, including children, women, and men in despair. Conditions were dire, lacking food,
water, sanitation, or security. Identity labels became rigid, erasing diverse backgrounds into
singular identities like 'Muslim,' 'Hindu,' or 'Sikh,' leading entire communities to face
suspicion and hardship.

During the tumult of 1947, labelling everything as Hindu or Muslim became pervasive, even
down to clothing choices. IH Qureshi recounted how in the chaos, people wore Hindu marks
and clothes as a survival strategy. This rush to categorize extended to language as well, with
Urdu writers like Josh Malihabadi lamenting the partition of Urdu, once a shared cultural
heritage.

Gandhi and Nehru wondered about Delhi's fate without its Muslim heritage and inhabitants
post-1947. Gandhi questioned the city's identity without Jama Masjid, emphasizing the
richness of its history and cultural diversity. Nehru pondered the consequences of religious
partition on India's secular fabric. Ebadat Barelvi described Delhi as a city of Muslims,
known for its vibrant culture and grandeur.

Shahid Ahmad Dehlavi’s "Dilli ki bipta" is a poignant memoir depicting his forced departure
from a city he never imagined leaving. The title itself, derived from Sanskrit and integrated
into Hindustani, reflects the tragedy not just of Delhi but also of India's Muslims and Shahid
Ahmad's family—a symbol of India's broader calamity.

Qarol Bagh’ marked a new stage in the 1947 violence in Delhi, moving from individual
stabbings and looting to systematic targeting and attempts to drive out Muslims from the city.
Amid escalating violence, individuals like Barelvi and Qureshi witnessed the horrors
firsthand. Armed gatherings signaled impending conflict, which erupted in September,
bringing terror and death to Muslims in areas like Timarpur. The university campus became a
temporary refuge amidst widespread attacks. Qidwai's account highlights the sudden violence
just days after independence, shattering the illusion of safety in Delhi, despite emergency
measures being put in place.

Reports showed stark differences between Hindu/Sikh and Muslim camps, with delayed aid
for the latter. A camp for Muslims was set up after appeals from the Pakistani High
Commissioner and unofficial support. Gandhi's visit on 13 September 1947 prompted the
Indian government to take full responsibility, acknowledging these refugees as citizens. This
struggle reflects early challenges in building a pluralistic, secular nation.

Gandhi's arrival in Delhi sparked a change, boosting secular nationalists and prompting swift
action from officials and activists. Peace committees were formed, and efforts to restore
normalcy began, aided by government emergency committees. The transfer of displaced
Muslims and the involvement of south Indian troops also played a role in easing tensions and
improving the situation.

One Delhi Muslim likened Gandhi’s arrival in 1947 to much-needed rain after a harsh
summer. Gandhi, known for his peace efforts in Calcutta, was now looked upon in Delhi for
another miracle. His daily speeches, broadcasted on the radio, seemed to quell major riots,
though violence against Muslims persisted. On Guru Nanak’s birthday, Gandhi was shocked
to see no Muslims in Chandni Chowk, expressing shame at the division.

In December, Gandhi criticized Hindu and Sikh refugees occupying Muslim homes. Despite
some peace, intolerance and displacement persisted. Gandhi’s January 1948 fast-unto-death
highlighted these tensions. Government intervention eventually allowed Muslims to return
home, gradually restoring normalcy in Delhi and marking a shift towards rebuilding and
coexistence.

The fervor for complete Partition in Delhi waned as Muslims began returning home,
signaling a tentative return to normalcy after the late 1946 turmoil. Jawaharlal Nehru, Arthur
Moore, and many others joined Gandhi in a fast, with even those across the border expressing
concern for his health. This fast had a ripple effect, with 100,000 government employees
pledging for peace and urging Gandhi to end his fast on the fifth day. Even previous
opponents, including RSS and Hindu Mahasabha representatives, supported his demands and
appealed for an end to the fast.

The assassination of Gandhi by Hindu extremists, following earlier attempts, initially raised
fears of weakening secular elements in the government. However, it led to swift action
against Hindu communalist forces, including the banning of the RSS and arrests of its
leaders. The media also began to report violence against Muslims more comprehensively.
Gandhi's death, like his fasts, achieved a profound impact, signalling the potential for a new
political community based on sacrifice and resistance to divisive ideologies.

This event marked a turning point, extinguishing the flames of Hindu-Muslim violence and
restoring a sense of security for Muslims in Delhi. Overnight, a calm and peace settled,
allowing people to return to their normal lives and routines. Gandhi's assassination, while
tragic, paradoxically contributed to a moment of transformative change, emphasizing the
power of individual sacrifice and resistance to shape political and social realities.

The changing atmosphere allowed them to move freely, but the Muslim question in India
persisted. Many returned home, yet they faced further ghettoization. Meanwhile, Hindus and
Sikhs expressed resentment toward the government's support for Muslim returnees, especially
from Pakistan, while the safety of non-Muslims in Pakistan remained uncertain. These
complex dynamics highlighted the ongoing challenges and tensions surrounding religious
identity and citizenship post-independence.
By August–September 1947, Delhi's Muslims faced siege, fear, and demoralization amid
curfews and scarcity. Desperate for supplies, they resorted to black-market activities and
selling possessions, even pets, for sustenance. Local police often worsened their distress.
Shahid Ahmad Dehlavi's "Dilli ki bipta" captures this anguish.

Despite hardships, Hindu neighbors in the Old City reassured and defended Muslims. Ebadat
Barelvi and Ishtiaq Husain Qureshi likened the Delhi they left in 1947–48 to a prison for
Muslims. Barelvi called it ‘Rukhsat-i-Zindaan’ (Liberation from the Prison House) and
Qureshi described it as 'a prison for the Muslims.' Qidwai described Delhi as a corpse bathed
in blood, and Dehlavi likened Purana Qila to a field of judgment day.
Many Muslims, desperate to escape confinement and potential death, left the city or country.
However, the trauma of forced displacement persisted, especially for those without means or
connections.

Millions of people became ‘refugees’ in the subcontinent in 1947–8 and the years that
followed, some moving to another country, some not moving very far or indeed leaving their
homes at all.