Chapter 60: Integration of Territories

Nehru immediately straightened, raising a hand in sharp dissent. "No, Vallabhbhai! Absolutely not! We have just taken our place in the international community as a nation built on moral authority, non-aggression, and international law. If our very first act as an independent republic is to launch unprovoked armed invasions of foreign-held enclaves, we destroy our standing before we even begin! The Western press will brand us as expansionist aggressors, and it will paralyse our diplomacy at the United Nations."

"I agree with Jawaharlal on the military question, Vallabhbhai," Ram said calmly, raising his hand before Patel could counter. "An armed invasion of French and Portuguese enclaves at this exact junction is politically crude and diplomatically counter-productive. It gives European powers a victimhood narrative. We must try one more comprehensive, undeniable avenue of communication, one that forces the entire world to watch."

Ram turned his gaze directly toward Nehru. "Panditji, I am going to trouble you again. As Minister for External Affairs, I want you to undertake an extensive diplomatic mission to Europe and America. You will take V.K. Krishna Menon with you."

Nehru leaned his hands on the edge of the mahogany desk, listening intently. "What is the precise itinerary and mandate, Ram?"

"First, London," Ram outlined, ticking the points off on his fingers. "You will meet with Attlee and the Commonwealth Office. You will demand absolute clarity on their intentions in the subcontinent, specifically their remaining timeline in Ceylon, their post-independence posture in Burma, and whether they intend to covertly fuel the Burmese civil war to protect British oil and timber interests. You will not indicate a single word about the MI6 espionage cell we have dismantled in the north. Let Whitehall wonder why their agents have gone dark. Let them stew in their own intelligence vacuum while you press them on trade and military withdrawal."

"And France and Portugal?" Nehru asked.

"You will go to Paris and Lisbon in person," Ram continued. "Present our demands directly to their foreign ministers: an immediate, peaceful, and phased handover of all French and Portuguese enclaves on Indian soil. In Paris, you will also deliver a stern, principled critique of their war in Indochina, urging them to cease military aggression against anti-colonial movements. If they agree to negotiate the transfer of Pondicherry and Goa, well and good."

Ram paused, his eyes narrowing into cold calculation. "However, if the French and Portuguese foreign offices refuse to meet you, or if they reject our peaceful proposals out of hand, as I suspect they will, as they live in grand imperial delusions... you will immediately alter your itinerary and fly directly to Moscow."

Nehru’s eyes widened slightly. Patel leaned back, a faint, approving smile touching his lips.

"Moscow?" Nehru echoed.

"Yes," Ram said firmly. "You will meet with Molotov and, if necessary, Stalin himself. You will build an international diplomatic consensus around a very specific, undeniable truth: that the massive financial and economic aid pouring into Western Europe under the United States’ Marshall Plan is actively being diverted by France and Portugal to prop up imperialist intentions and fund colonial oppression in Asia, in Indochina, in Goa, and across Africa. Moscow will naturally and enthusiastically align with us on this narrative. They will amplify it across their global propaganda apparatus and the Eastern Bloc."

"That will set off alarm bells in Washington," Nehru murmured, his mind rapidly constructing the geopolitical implications.

"That is precisely the point," Ram said. "From Moscow, you and Krishna Menon will fly directly to New York and Washington, D.C."

"In New York," Ram continued, "you will address the United Nations. Menon has already brought to my attention that the UN Secretariat has remained conspicuously silent regarding our independence, treating us as an afterthought. You will change that. You will take the podium at the General Assembly and the Security Council to reiterate how Marshall Plan aid is being weaponised to prop up imperialism. And then, Panditji, you will lay down our major international demand."

Ram struck the desk softly with his palm. "You will formally demand a Permanent Seat for the Republic of India on the United Nations Security Council, equipped with the same veto powers accorded to the other five permanent members.

You will remind the Assembly that India represents three hundred and fifty million people: one-seventh of human civilisation, and that a Security Council that excludes a seventh of humanity is nothing more than an executive committee for Western dominance."

"A powerful and undeniable argument," Nehru said, his eyes flashing with conviction. "The post-war order cannot be built on the supremacy of shattered European empires while Asian nations are treated as secondary states."

"Finally, you go to Washington D.C. to meet Truman and General George Marshall," Ram concluded. "You will attempt to stall or place conditions on Marshall Plan allocations to France and Portugal based on their colonial aggression. I suspect, realistically, that we will fail to stop the American money flow; Truman is too terrified of communist expansion in Europe to cut off aid to his allies. But it is our moral and strategic duty to put it on the record.

And while you are in Washington, Menon must exercise his formidable negotiation skills to squeeze trade concessions, industrial machinery credits, and agricultural support out of the State Department."

Patel chuckled dryly, looking at Nehru. "A heavy diplomatic trunk to carry, Jawaharlal. But it paints those colonial fascists in Lisbon and Paris into a very tight corner."

"It is a brilliant grand strategy, Ram," Nehru said, nodding vigorously as he jotted rapid notes on a leather pad. "It links our local territorial integrity to the broader global anti-colonial struggle. I shall have Menon prepare the briefing papers immediately."

The meeting adjourned in the late afternoon. Ram Prasad Gupta, Sardar Patel, and Jawaharlal Nehru gathered their coats and documents, stepping out of the cool interior of South Block into the stifling Delhi heat.

They walked down the broad granite steps to the waiting motorcade, three black Humber Pullmans idling quietly in the driveway. Their escort, a small detachment of motor police, straightened to attention. The drivers opened the doors, and the three leaders settled into the rear compartment of the primary vehicle.

The convoy pulled out onto Rajpath, kicking up light red dust as it swept past the quiet Ministry buildings. The journey through the capital was marked by scenes of a nation in transition: gangways of public works crews laying municipal water lines along Janpath, groups of citizens gathered around community radio receivers listening to news bulletins, and trucks loaded with construction materials heading toward the new refugee housing colonies in the south.

"The capital feels calmer today," Nehru remarked softly, watching a group of school children waving Indian flags from a roadside park. "The initial shock of the partition lines has settled into a quiet determination."

"People want stability, Jawaharlal," Patel said, looking out at the passing trees. "They want to know that the government under their feet is unyielding. When they see order, they give us their trust."

"And order is precisely what we must deliver at every point on the perimeter," Ram added quietly as the cars turned onto Albuquerque Road.

Minutes later, the motorcade turned through the open wrought-iron gates of Birla House. The quiet grounds were serene, shaded by towering neem and banyan trees. The soft, rhythmic sound of devotional singing drifted from the far side of the garden pavilion, where a small gathering of devotees had already assembled for the evening prayer session.

The three men stepped out onto the gravel driveway, removed their footwear at the entrance of the side veranda, and walked softly across the cool stone floor.

Mahatma Gandhi sat on a clean woven reed mat, resting his back against a long white bolster. Beside him sat his personal physician, Dr Sushila Nayar, adjusting a medical bag, alongside two young women attendants who were preparing a tray of warm water and lime. Bapu looked frail, his brown skin stretched tight over his thin frame, but his eyes were bright, warm, and remarkably lively as he looked up to greet them.

"Ah," Bapu said, a soft, wide smile breaking across his weathered face as he set aside his wooden spinning wheel. "The heavy weight of the Republic approaches. Come, sit down, sit down."

Ram, Patel, and Nehru sat cross-legged on the floor mat before him.

"We came to pay our respects, Bapu," Ram said smoothly, offering a respectful bow of his head. "And to see how your health is holding up after the relentless stress of the past weeks."

"My health is in the hands of the Almighty, Ram Prasad," Gandhi replied softly, reaching out to gently pat Patel’s knee. "And how are the managers of India faring? Are the ledger books balancing?"

"They are balancing slowly, Bapu," Patel said with a rare, gentle smile. "Though we must thank you for your daily evening radio broadcasts on cleanliness and civil sanitation. All India Radio reports that millions across the cities and villages are tuning in. People are taking your words on hygiene and community service very seriously."

"Cleanliness of the streets is the first step toward cleanliness of the soul, Vallabhbhai," Gandhi said gently. "If a free citizen cannot sweep his own doorway, he is not yet truly free."

"Bapu," Nehru began, leaning forward respectfully, "we have received an earnest entreaty from the people and representatives of our new island territories: Mauritius and the Seychelles. They have sent word that the people there are desperate to see you, to hear your voice, and to receive your blessings as they integrate into our republic. They have formally requested if you would be willing to travel to their shores."

Gandhi looked out toward the green garden, his eyes filled with quiet contemplation. "Mauritius... the Seychelles... So many of our poor indentured brothers and sisters were carried away across the dark waters to those islands decades ago, to labour on sugar plantations under the hot sun. If those people wish to see an old man, how can I refuse them? I shall gladly go."

Dr Sushila Nayar immediately leaned forward, her face showing professional concern. "Bapu, the long sea voyage or transit could be severely taxing on your physical frame-"

"Actually, Dr Sushila-ji," Patel interrupted smoothly, "we have already devised a comprehensive plan to ensure Bapu’s complete health, comfort, and security."

Patel turned to Gandhi, his tone crisp and organised. "Bapu, we will not send you alone or on an uncomfortable commercial steamer. We will send a full complement of civil administrative staff, top medical specialists, healthcare workers, and advanced communication equipment to these new territories, including the Maldives, Mauritius, and the Seychelles, alongside you."

"Furthermore," Patel added, looking at Dr Nayar, "our medical advisors agree that the clean, salt-rich island air will work wonders to rejuvenate Bapu’s health away from the dusty heat of Delhi."

Dr Nayar paused, thought for a moment, and nodded in slow agreement. "The marine air and a restful climate away from political crowds in the capital would indeed be highly therapeutic for his lungs and blood pressure."

"What of the transport and security, Ram?" Nehru asked.

"We have taken full account of that," Ram explained calmly. "For long-distance transport, we will deploy our newly arrived fleet of C-47B Skytrain military transport aircraft. These twin-engine transports will provide rapid, comfortable airlift for Bapu, his personal retinue, the civil medical staff, and all administrative equipment. Utilising these aircraft for this mass civil transport mission will also serve as vital operational training for our services on new equipment and mark the formal integration of these new territories into the Republic."

Ram looked at Patel, then back at Gandhi. "And for security and maritime presence: the Indian Navy will deploy one fully armed frigate to each of the three island clusters, Mauritius, the Seychelles, and the Maldives. They will remain anchored offshore to provide absolute communication support, medical backup, and territorial security while Bapu is amongst the islanders."

Gandhi let out a soft, amused chuckle, shaking his head gently. "Frigates and military aeroplanes for an old man with a walking stick? You are turning a simple pilgrimage of service into a grand state expedition, Ram Prasad."

"You are the Father of the Nation, Bapu," Ram replied with quiet, unshakeable reverence. "When you step beyond our shores, the sovereign state must ensure that not a single hair on your head is vulnerable, and that your mission of mercy is backed by the full administrative and defence capabilities of the Republic."

Gandhi smiled, his eyes twinkling with soft affection. "Very well. If it brings health to the islanders and trains our young people in service, I accept."

A/N: Let me know your thoughts in the comments and the reviews. Stone me?