On my birth anniversary today, I write to you not as a monument but as a predecessor who once bore the responsibility you now carry. The world has transformed beyond recognition, yet India’s defining questions endure like old songs: What is the purpose of power? What nation do we seek to build?
In a democracy, power’s legitimacy flows from the consent of the people. Its sanctity depends on restraint. The arrogance of majorities, the intoxication of victory, and the temptation to equate the nation with the ruler are dangerous signs of decay. True leadership is tested in the humility of service, in the aftermath of triumph. I have seen what hatred achieves. Partition remains the darkest chapter in our history. Trains arrived carrying the dead. Families were destroyed. Neighbours became enemies. An estimated 15 million people crossed borders. Death toll estimates range from 2,00,000 to 2 million. On January 30, 1948, Nathuram Godse shot Mahatma Gandhi three times during an interfaith prayer meeting. Godse, associated with the RSS and the Hindu Mahasabha, declared Gandhi’s murder political, holding him responsible for Partition. In his confession, Godse expressed no remorse for killing the man who preached Hindu-Muslim unity. Those who witnessed that horror swore that never again would politics be allowed to exploit faith or community. B R Ambedkar built our Republic upon Gandhi’s ideal of unity in diversity. Rabindranath Tagore warned that a nation shackled by fear loses its creative soul.
Economic progress and global prestige are valuable. But they cannot be substitutes for social harmony. A nation that grows materially while decaying morally walks on fragile ground. The world respects India for its idea more than its size or strength — a civilisation that discovered unity through embracing differences, through democracy. Our Republic was built on faith in reason, in dialogue, in the shared humanity of all citizens. That faith gave India moral stature among nations.
On the eve of Independence, in my ‘Tryst with Destiny’ speech, I declared: “We are citizens of a great country on the verge of bold advance, and we have to live up to that high standard. All of us, to whatever religion we may belong, are equally the children of India with equal rights, privileges and obligations. We cannot encourage communalism or narrow-mindedness, for no nation can be great whose people are narrow in thought or in action.”
History will not remember who outshouted whom in the heat of the election. It will remember who dared to rise above division, to protect the weak, to hold firm to values that protect India’s civilisational soul. During the first General Elections of 1951-52, I travelled 25,000 miles and addressed 35 million people, a tenth of India’s population. I knew it was my duty to educate our fellow citizens about adult suffrage and their duty to vote responsibly. A British paper noted at the time that “if ever a country took a leap in the dark towards democracy, it was India”.
That leap succeeded because we chose inclusion over exclusion. Dialogue over division. Restraint over revenge.
In one of my Constituent Assembly speeches, I said, “Whatever system of government we may establish here must fit in with the temper of our people and be acceptable to them.” I added that our institutions “are ultimately the projections of a people’s character, thinking and aims”. Democracy is tested by how it treats those who think differently, worship differently, look different. After Gandhi’s death, I addressed the nation: “The light has gone out of our lives, and there is darkness everywhere.” But I also believed that that light would survive a thousand years. That light was Gandhi’s message: Violence breeds violence, hatred destroys the hater as much as the hated, and India’s strength lies in its ability to embrace all its people.
The Republic we built was not perfect. However, we made an effort to ensure that every citizen, regardless of faith, caste, region, or language, felt a sense of belonging. We tried to make democracy mean something more than majority rule. We tried to make it mean dignity, fairness, opportunity. That is the inheritance you received. That is the trust you must preserve.
Yours sincerely,
Jawaharlal Nehru
The writer is MP (Rajya Sabha), Rashtriya Janata Dal
