June, 1947.
The air over Delhi was thick with heat, dust, and anticipation. British India stood at the edge of both
freedom and chaos, its destiny trembling in the hands of men who knew that history was racing faster
than anyone had planned. Lord Mountbatten, the last Viceroy, had delivered his warning with chilling
urgency: “We must get out before the house catches fire.” The empire that had ruled for nearly two
centuries was about to vanish, and in its place, two new nations would be carved from a land bound by
shared centuries yet divided by irreconcilable visions.
On the evening of June 3, millions huddled around their radios, straining to catch every word as
Mountbatten unveiled his plan, an audacious partition of the subcontinent into two dominions. His
voice was followed by Jawaharlal Nehru’s, carrying the measured conviction of a man ready to
shoulder the hopes of a free India, and then Muhammad Ali Jinnah’s, firm and unyielding, speaking
of Pakistan as both a promise and inevitability.
That night, the fate of millions shifted. Borders not yet drawn were already slicing through villages,
families, and friendships. The stage was set:
Two nations, born of the same soil, destined to walk diverging paths under the shadow of the
empire’s departing hand.
The Council Convenes
Delhi, June 27, 1947.
The room is alive with tension. At the head of the table sits Lord Mountbatten, chairing what may be
the most impossible meeting in history: The Partition Council.
On one side, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel leans forward, his voice sharp, insisting India cannot be
shortchanged. Beside him, Jawaharlal Nehru speaks with passion, trying to hold the bigger picture
together. Across the table, Muhammad Ali Jinnah sits calm, almost icy, every word precise, every
demand firm. He is flanked by Liaquat Ali Khan and Abdur Rab Nishtar, equally determined that
Pakistan must get its due. Even the princely states and minority groups have their representatives here,
throwing their own concerns into the mix.
The task before them is staggering: to split an entire civilization in weeks. Armies must be divided, 64%
of soldiers and equipment to India, 36% to Pakistan. The railways, the postal system, the schools,
the banks, every last coin and record must be sorted. Refugees are already on the move, yet the borders
aren’t even drawn; Radcliffe has just five weeks to decide the fate of 88 million people.
And the details? Nothing is too small. Horses, camels, telegram wires, all must be counted. A British
diplomat even jokes that “the Indian staff left the teacups but took the teaspoons.” Yes, even silver spoons
are on the table.
This is no quiet committee. Voices rise. Tempers clash. Every seat has a role in history.
Characters to Play This is no textbook exercise. You are stepping into 1947, into The Viceroy’s Partition Council itself. Every voice here has an agenda, a vision, and the power to change the fate of millions. And in this simulation, you hold that power.
● Jawaharlal Nehru (Congress, future Prime Minister): The idealistic visionary. You inspire with rhetoric like: “At the stroke of midnight, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom…” Yet beneath your soaring words lies anguish, can freedom ever be complete if India is divided?
● Vallabhbhai Patel (Congress): The Iron Man. You demand order, calm, and security above all. Your focus is practical: refugees, law and order, division of assets. “We must secure calm and protect all our people as borders shift.”
● Abul Kalam Azad (Congress President): The scholar, deeply opposed to Partition. You plead for unity and warn against communal frenzy. Mountbatten reassured you: “I shall see to it that there is no bloodshed and riot.” You take him at his word, and demand safety for every community.
● B.R. Ambedkar (Dalit leader, architect of the Constitution): You look beyond Partition itself. For you, the central issue is the social fabric of India, how will a new Constitution safeguard Dalits and marginalized groups? You remind the Council that freedom means little without equality.
● Jagjivan Ram (Congress, Dalit leader): Pragmatic and loyal to Congress, you urge that independence must not sideline Dalits. You balance between Ambedkar’s radical critique and Patel/Nehru’s pragmatism, positioning yourself as a voice of inclusion.
● Syama Prasad Mukherji (Hindu Mahasabha/Bengal leader): Fierce and uncompromising. You resist the division of Bengal, and your politics lean toward the idea of a stronger Hindu nation-state. You challenge Congress’ concessions, demanding stronger safeguards for Hindus.
● Muhammad Ali Jinnah (Muslim League, future Governor-General of Pakistan): The strategist. Calm, logical, and determined. You declare: “We have obtained our goal.” As Jinnah, you insist that Pakistan must emerge with dignity, resources, and constitutional guarantees.
● Liaquat Ali Khan (Muslim League, future Prime Minister of Pakistan): Jinnah’s trusted ally. Your focus is financial and constitutional safeguards, Pakistan must not begin its life as a crippled state. You bargain hard over treasuries, army shares, and governance structures.
● Master Tara Singh (Sikh leader): The fiery defender of Sikh rights. You warn: “Do not forget us Sikhs in Punjab!” You demand guarantees, land, and recognition of Sikh concerns in any new borders.
● Princely State Rulers: The wildcards. Hari Singh of Kashmir balancing between independence and accession. The Nizam of Hyderabad dreaming of sovereignty. As a ruler, you force the Council to consider princely autonomy, and the messy reality of 565 states deciding their fate.
● Other Minority Voices:
○ Frank Anthony (Anglo-Indian representative): securing guarantees for a tiny but distinct community.
○ Christian and Parsi leaders, small in number but vocal in asking for representation.
Council’s Fun Facts
The Partition Council’s work was equal parts bureaucratic and bizarre.
● Army Division: They actually counted troops and weapons to give 64% of the army to India and
36% to Pakistan. Generals parted with camels, bugles, and even elephants.
● Protocol Splits: Who gets the U.S. embassy in Delhi, or British pound notes? Pakistan even used
Indian postage stamps overprinted with “Pakistan” for a year. Every asset had to be sliced.
● Diplomatic Drama: Deciding embassy property got absurd. In one case, India and Pakistan
literally split shared embassy items, the Indians took the teaspoons but left the teacups.
● Boundary Commission: Meanwhile Sir Cyril Radcliffe worked day and night. In just five weeks
he divided 175,000 sq mi and 88 million people into two countries. The Council eagerly awaited
his Punjab and Bengal maps to finalize details.
● Personal Touch: Officers who dined together on August 13, 1947, saluted different flags on the
15th. Trains crossing borders had to change crews. Even encyclopedias were split A–M to one
country, N–Z to the other.
These facts show the scale and oddity of partition. In council, you deal with them all, from the sensible
(military assets) to the surreal (who keeps the embassy furniture).
Why Participate?
Imagine, the council is gathered in June 1947, maps half-drawn and nerves fully exposed, when
Maulana Abul Kalam Azad quietly writes of his fears for the future: “As a Muslim, I for one am not
prepared for a moment to give up my right to treat the whole of India as my domain and share in the
shaping of its political and economic life.” His words tremble with conviction, proof that in a moment’s
pause, history hangs in the balance.
This is not a rehearsal. This is pressure, ideas, ideals, and humanity colliding in real time. When you sit
at the table, the air around you bristles with urgency, the same urgency that drove Azad to speak of
unity when everything around him pressed toward division.
You feel more than history. You feel the weight of Azad’s indignation. You feel Nehru’s burden to forge
hope. You feel Jinnah’s determination, Patel’s resolve, Tara Singh’s defiance, Ambedkar’s vision. This
council demands your voice, your conviction, your grief, your courage, to decide what kind of future
will rise.
Because in this simulation, like in that crowded chamber, every argument, every gesture, every word
matters. Will you inherit Azad’s plea for unity? Will you replicate or challenge it? Will you seize that
urgency, and reshape the destiny that textbooks later describe? Step into the debate. Let the gravity of Azad’s words guide you.
Because here, history is not behind
you, it is yours to live. Choose wisely.
