Delhi – Prime Minister's Office, South Block – 9th April 1948
The brass clock on Arjun's desk ticked steadily as Patel gathered his papers, the morning briefing apparently concluded. Outside, the first hints of Delhi's approaching summer heat shimmered off the courtyard stones.
"Ah yes, I almost forgot. I still need you to do something rather urgently, Sardar-ji", Arjun spoke, with his signature smile on his face.
Patel's hand froze on his briefcase handle. That tone – deceptively casual, almost friendly – had preceded some of Arjun's most ruthless decisions. He settled back into his chair, studying the younger man's face.
Arjun stood and walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back. "The visible resistance is finished. The Zamindars are broken and the regional agitators have been discredited."
He turned, and Patel saw something cold flicker behind his eyes. "But we should know that it's only half the battle won."
Patel waited, wondering what it could be.
"What I'm referring to is the ideological threat." Arjun returned to his desk, pulling out a thin folder.
"I'm talking about organizations that don't throw stones or burn crops, but do something far more dangerous – they plant ideas. Alternative loyalties. Competing visions of what India should be. The same ones, whose members were involved behind the scenes, in the recent chaos."
Patel gave a quiet nod, signaling his understanding of the matter.
Arjun then opened the folder, revealing a list of names and organizations written in his careful script.
"The Muslim League's Indian chapter still exists, however weakened. Its very presence legitimizes the idea of separate Muslim political identity within our borders. That cannot be allowed to take root again."
Patel agreed. The logic was sound, even if the implications were troubling.
"The Communist Party," Arjun continued, "preaches class warfare and takes direction from Moscow. Their vision of revolution would tear apart everything we're building.
And the various Islamic movements – Khaksar, Majlis-e-Ahrar, even the ostensibly peaceful Tablighi Jamaat – they all promote loyalties that transcend our borders."
He slid the folder across the desk. "These organizations need to disappear, Sardar-ji. Not just their activities – their very existence. As if they never existed in the first place."
The weight of the request settled on Patel like a shroud. "You're talking about more than arrests."
"I'm talking about surgical removal of threats to national unity." Arjun's voice remained steady, matter-of-fact.
"The IB will coordinate with the CBI and local police. Financial assets will be frozen, leaders will be...neutralized.
As for members, those who are only involved on surface, they will find new opportunities elsewhere, preferably far from political activity. And those who are closely involved in the organization activities, will also be eliminated."
Patel studied the list, recognizing names he'd once worked alongside during the independence struggle. "Some of these people fought the British with us."
"And now they threaten what we fought to create." Arjun leaned forward.
"This isn't about personal vendetta, Sardar-ji. It's about ensuring that when a child grows up in our new India, his first loyalty is to the nation – not to a class, not to any caste, not to a transnational religious movement, and certainly not to a foreign ideology."
The older man's fingers drummed against the folder. He'd known this moment would come, had perhaps even seen its necessity. But knowing and accepting were different things.
"How thorough?" he asked quietly.
"Complete. Any inquiry into their fate should be met with genuine confusion. Records will be lost, witnesses will have poor memories, and investigators will find nothing but dead ends." Arjun's smile was thin, humorless.
"History is written by those who shape the present, Sardar-ji. These organizations will simply... fade from memory."
Patel closed the folder and stood. "It will take time. And considerable resources."
"You have both. And my complete authority to use whatever methods you deem necessary."
As Patel reached the door, Arjun called out once more. "Remember – we're not destroying these groups out of cruelty. We're ensuring that the India we're building has room to grow without poisonous roots undermining its foundation."
"Sure, if that's what you say.", Patel scoffed.
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Arjun alone. He walked back to the window, watching gardeners tend to the rose beds below.
As if remembering something, he reached out for the intercom button on his table. "Send for the Education Minister."
Narahari D. Parikh entered twenty minutes later, his arms full of curriculum proposals and policy drafts.
"Minister," Arjun gestured to the chair Patel had vacated. "What's the progress of integration of uniform curriculum in religious institutes?"
"Quite well, Prime Minister. Although there were some minor protests in the beginning, IB officials had managed to convince them."
Arjun nodded approvingly. "Excellent. But I want to discuss something more... comprehensive. We're building a new nation, Narahari-ji, but nations are only as strong as the minds of their citizens. Education will be our most powerful tool for shaping those minds."
The Minister leaned forward, intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"
"Integration of not just of curriculum, but of institutions." Arjun said.
He pulled out a document with research and recommendations.
"All religious schools – madrasas, missionary institutions, even the traditional gurukuls if needed, though they already align with most of the requirements, must be brought under direct state oversight.
A new Bureau of Educational Integration within your ministry will ensure they meet national standards."
Parikh 's eyebrows rose. "That's...a bit pushy. There will be resistance, particularly from minority communities who see educational autonomy as protection of their rights. Especially after repeated meddling in their matters."
"Which is why we'll approach this carefully." Arjun spread several documents across his desk.
"We don't ban religious education – we modernize it.
Science, mathematics, history, civics – all taught alongside traditional subjects, but ensuring that Science and Religion stays separated.
We'll recruit respected and progressive religious educators of all faiths, to champion the reforms in respective institutes, and show how they benefit students."
"In case of the gurukuls or other dharmic institutions, we need to strictly ensure that any study that could promote divisions based on caste, intentionally or unintentionally, is thoroughly eliminated."
He pulled out a chart showing funding allocations.
"Institutions that comply receive generous state support, scholarships for their students, modern facilities. Those that resist will find bureaucratic obstacles, funding difficulties, declining enrolment as parents choose schools that offer better opportunities."
The Minister studied the proposals, recognizing their sophistication. This wasn't just a crude suppression but rather systematic transformation.
"And a core tenet, Minister," Arjun's gaze sharpened, "will be the 'Majority Respect Doctrine'. This is not about religious superiority, but about the fundamental truth of India's demographic and cultural reality.
Our curriculum, our public messaging, will celebrate India's rich embroidery of cultures, but it will subtly, constantly reinforce the idea that the nation's enduring strength, its unity, and the very shelter it provides for all, is rooted in its civilizational core, which is predominantly shaped by its indigenous ethos.
It's about national cohesion, about gratitude for the stability and opportunities provided by the larger national framework. This will be woven into civics lessons, into historical narratives, into moral science."
Parikh set down the papers. "You're talking about social engineering on a massive scale."
"Yes, I'm talking about nation-building." Arjun's voice carried quiet conviction. "Every successful country shapes the values of its citizens through education. We're simply being more deliberate about it."
He walked to a map of India hanging on the wall, tracing the new state boundaries with his finger.
"Imagine a generation that grows up seeing themselves as Indians first. Who understand that their prosperity depends on national strength, their freedom on national unity. Who appreciate diversity but never mistake it for division."
"School assemblies with national pledges," the Minister mused, warming to the concept. "Citizenship ceremonies for graduating students. Merit scholarships tied to community service..."
"Exactly. But subtly done, woven into the fabric of education so naturally that it feels like common sense rather than indoctrination." Arjun returned to his desk.
"The goal isn't to create automatons, Narahari-ji. It's to ensure that when our citizens think about their identity, their loyalties, their responsibilities – India comes first."
The Education Minister gathered the documents, his academic mind already working through implementation challenges. "This is bound to transform the entire educational system."
"Yes," Arjun agreed. "And through it, the entire country. We have perhaps twenty years before the children entering school today begin taking leadership roles in society.
What they learn in our classrooms will determine whether India remains united and strong, or fragments into competing loyalties."
"Oh…and Narahar-ji, I intend to make the education mandatory till the age of 14 by the 1950, throughout the entire nation", Arjun casually said.