Dedications to books make delightful reading in themselves. Most authors dedicate books to their parents, spouses, children, friends and so on. Many are emotional. Some are humorous. Open The Heart of a Goof by P G Wodehouse and you will read ‘Dedicated to my daughter Leonora, without whose never-failing sympathy and encouragement this book would have been finished in half the time.’ Another witty dedication can be found in the book The Egg and I by Betty MacDonald published in 1945. It describes her life on a chicken farm in the United States. Her husband, an engineer, thinks it a good idea to buy a chicken farm and the author finds herself trying to raise chickens without the faintest idea of how to go about it. Her sister with whom she shared her experiences found the descriptions entertaining and persuaded her to try yet another hitherto unknown activity — writing. The dedication to the book ran, ‘To my sister who has always believed I can do anything she puts her mind to.’
Interesting and important though they are, it is rare for a dedication to change a life. Yet, the dedication of one book had profound consequences for the author. In the year 1951, Nirad Chaudhuri published his first book. It was called The Autobiography of an Unknown Indian. The dedication started with the words, ‘To the memory of the British Empire in India….’ and concluded, ‘Because all that was good and living within us was made, shaped and quickened by the same British rule.’
The book was a masterpiece of erudition and was well-received abroad. In India, book and author were branded anti-national. Perhaps few understood that the dedication did not mean to denigrate Indians. It is quite possible that most people had read only the dedication. Even those who found the book objectionable agreed it was well written. As happens often, what endured in public memory was the dedication. Chaudhuri was working for All India Radio in New Delhi at the time. His tenure was not extended and he had to leave.
An avowed Anglophile, he soon gained a reputation for being anti-Indian. Many years later, Khushwant Singh became editor of the Illustrated Weekly of India. An early issue in 1969, carried a picture of Nirad Chaudhuri on the cover. The bold, provocative caption beneath, was also the title of Chaudhuri’s article ‘Why I Hate Indians’.
There is another interesting aspect to the episode of the dedication. A reason was found to deny Chaudhuri an extension of service. He was accused of violating a regulation. A government servant is required to obtain prior permission before publishing his memoirs — something Chaudhuri had failed to do. In the entire process no mention was made of the contents of the book.
Such bureaucratic interpretation is another legacy of British rule. Thus Indian officials found a very British solution to rid themselves of an Anglophile. Perhaps the irony was not lost on Chaudhuri who had dedicated his book to the memory of the British Empire.