INDIA: The Happy War

TIME Correspondent Robert Lubar, together with a LIFE reporter and photographer, set out in a hired 1935 Ford to have a look at the war between India and Hyderabad. The Indian army had undertaken a “police action” (which it also called a “mission of mercy”) against Hyderabad, whose predominantly Hindu population was ruled by a stubborn Moslem Nizam. The would-be war correspondents sped 180 miles toward the front, found that the war was over by the time they got there. All in all, it had been one of the shortest, happiest wars ever seen. Cabled Lubar:

Everyone is satisfied. The aggressive section of Indian public opinion has been appeased. Hyderabad, which was never really out of India, is now indisputably part of India. There have been no terrible outbreaks of communal violence. The Nizam, who capitulated in four days and 13 hours, satisfied the demands of his ego for at least a token fight. Said Lieut. General Sir Maharaj Rajendrasinghji, the Indian generalissimo: “It is not our job to hurt anybody who is law-abiding.” This presumably included the Hyderabad army. There were no casualty reports (by the best available count, twelve Indian soldiers were killed).

Just the same, eager Indian war correspondents sent back reports which turned up under headlines like NIZAM’S FORTRESS TOWNS FALL LIKE NINEPINS. The reports failed to mention that the fortresses had been built in the 15th Century.

“He Is Sorry.” At the Hyderabad border we were greeted by Hindu peasants who were obviously all for the Indian “invaders.” At Naldrug camp, where we breakfasted, soldiers were gathered around a radio listening to a rebroadcast of the Nizam’s surrender speech. A soldier translated the gist to me: “He is sorry. He wants to be friends.”

Along the roads it was hard to tell that there had been fighting. Farmers tilled fields, animals grazed, peasants slept under trees. Only at rare intervals did we see a few dead bodies. Here & there was an overturned Hyderabad truck. At the village of Homnabad, the Indian army showed off its prize prisoner: he was a middle-aged clerk who had been secretary of the local Razakar organization—the band of Moslem diehards and guerrillas led by fanatic little Kasim Razvi (TIME, Aug. 30). A meek character in a grey Persian lamb fez and long coat, he looked just as his leader Razvi might look if the fire were gone from his eyes. He was captured the day before war’s end with a sword in his hand. Now he was bewildered, crushed. He murmured: “Razvi has deceived us.”

“The Game of Life.” Five miles from Secunderabad, the Hyderabad army was to surrender officially. A shiny Buick brought Hyderabad’s army commander, Major General Syed Ahmed El Edroos, a black-haired, black-mustached man who told me a month ago he would “fight to the end.” He advanced to meet Major General Chaudhuri, commander of India’s ist Armored Division and field leader of the invasion. They shook hands, lit cigarettes and talked quietly while spellbound villagers looked on. Said Chaudhuri: “You’ll have to clean up the Razakars.” El Edroos nodded, looking slightly pale. He was also commissioned to hold Hyderabad City, which had not been entered by Indian troops. Snapped Chaudhuri: “See that there is no trouble.”

There was no trouble. In the city of Hyderabad (where Moslems make up almost half the population), streets were deathly quiet. The Moslems were scared. Some barred and shuttered their homes. For weeks they had been fed rumors that the Indian army was capturing Razakar boys, putting gunpowder in their mouths and setting it off. It would take time before these people regained confidence.

The Nizam’s powers were shorn, his ministers were under house arrest, but he would probably salvage his wealth and royal trappings. Kasim Razvi faced a dimmer fate. In a broadcast to his followers on the morning of surrender he said: “This is the last time I shall be speaking to you.” Then he disappeared. The next day he was captured by Hyderabad troops. Said he: “I gambled and lost.”

The defeated commander, El Edroos, told me philosophically: “It’s the game of life. We did our best.”