INDIA: Relics of the Raj

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In the courtyard of New Delhi's vast President's House last week, an Indian army band stood smartly to attention. As the national anthem rang out in the crisp winter air, Indian Army Chief of Staff General Sam Hormuzji Framji Jamshedji Manekshaw stepped forward to the presidential dais and saluted stiffly. Then India's President V.V. Giri ceremoniously handed Manekshaw an ornate silver-tipped baton. With that, the military commander who masterminded Pakistan's humiliating defeat in the 1971 Indo-Pakistan war became the first Indian field marshal in his country's history.

The ceremony was as determinedly British as it might have been in the era of the Raj. In a singular display of military punctilio, the new field marshal even received a congratulatory cable from the Pakistan army chief of staff, General Tikka Khan, who was military governor of East Pakistan when the war with India began. Like Manekshaw, Tikka Khan is a graduate of the Indian Military Academy, India's equivalent of Sandhurst. It was all, as the British might say, "a jolly good show."

Of all the institutions that the British left behind in India, the army—trained and for generations staffed by English gentlemen officers—is the most British in style and tradition. In spite of 25 years of proud Indian independence, however, the British legacy survives not only in institutions but in the country's way of life itself. Most educated Indians still speak with British accents, even if they have never been to England and were never taught by Englishmen. Indian motorists, not to mention bullock-cart drivers, continue to use the left side of the road. When it reported the bombing of the Indian embassy in Hanoi recently, the state-owned All India Radio—which is modeled on the BBC—solemnly informed its listeners that "officers and other staff" were safe. Whether it was intended consciously or not, the announcement was identical to an expression used during colonial days, when "officers" signified British and "other staff" referred to Indians.

For a good many Indians, behaving in a more British fashion than the British is cricket—even though until independence in 1947, most cricket clubs, not to mention polo and tennis clubs as well, were strictly off-limits to all but the most powerful or wealthy Indians.

After an egalitarian-minded Briton once took some Indian friends swimming at a British planters' club in Bihar State, his fellow members ordered the pool drained and refilled.

Nicknames. The clubs still exist but most of them are faded husks of their former elegance. They are simply too expensive to be kept up. The few clubs that have retained the grand old look are patronized mainly by affluent Indians. A visitor strolling across the manicured lawns of a private club these days is likely to hear an echo of the past in calls for "Jimmy" (short for "Jamshedji"), "Bunty" (a current Indian favorite) or "Sam" (which General Manekshaw prefixed to his string of Parsi names). The use of such Anglicisms dates back to the time when British officers, unable to pronounce Indian names correctly, gave their troops nicknames for convenience. Indians who slavishly follow such British customs have been given the mocking name "brown sahibs" by their countrymen.