Recently, I had the opportunity to work on a prestigious organisational project commemorating the 75th year of the adoption of the Indian Constitution. A large part of it involved combing the Constituent Assembly debates for landmark speeches, didactic precedents, and various values of constitutionality. What startled me were the many humorous moments in the debates, which signal not only the humanising elements of the Constitution—and of the Assembly that authored it—but also the fact that our founding parents were deeply in touch with their own and society’s foibles, and that they did not necessarily frown on themselves or their compatriots for these humane shortcomings. The Constituent Assembly debates, held between December 9, 1946, and January 25, 1950, run into nearly 6,000 pages and 3.6 million words.
‘Nightingale Of India’ In A Male-Dominated House
On December 11, 1946, when Sachchidananda Sinha, the Chairman of the Assembly, invited “bulbul-i-Hind, the Nightingale of India,” Sarojini Naidu, to address the House “not in prose but in poetry,” the invitation was met with rapture. At one point, Naidu exclaimed, “Mr. Chairman, the manner of your calling me is not constitutional!” “Order, order,” called Sinha, adding that it was “no reflection on the Chair please.” Laughter continued.
Then, Naidu said something that made even the most serious members of the Assembly chuckle. “I will be modest,” she remarked, “emulating the example of Rajendra Babu himself and confine myself, as a woman should, to purely domestic issues.” Her self-deprecating humour seemed to mildly rebuke an ostensibly male-dominated assembly—there were only fifteen women back then in an assembly of nearly 390 members.
When Ambedkar Joked About ‘Professor’ Kamath
On December 27, 1948, during a debate on pensions for parliamentary members and Prime Ministers and Presidents, BR Ambedkar addressed HV Kamath as “Professor Kamath”, while inviting him to share his thoughts on residential provisions. Kamath, who had the reputation of being a fiery and garrulous speaker, protested: “Sir, I am not Professor Kamath.” Ambedkar’s rejoinder comprised dry Anglo-American wit. “But he is quite entitled to be called Professor because he speaks so often,” remarked Ambedkar. The Assembly cracked up, more so because Ambedkar was not known to display his witty sense of humour very often in the Assembly. Ambedkar’s comment was also funny because he, himself, as the Chairman of the Drafting Committee for the Constitution, is known to have spoken the most in the Assembly: nearly 2,70,000 words. The reply to Kamath, if anything, was a jovial acknowledgement of his credo, not an opposition to him.
Despite his otherwise serious demeanour, Ambedkar occasionally resorted to humour to express a sceptical stance on grave matters, such as the criticism against the Draft Constitution. In one instance, addressing critics who wanted a Constitution based on ancient village-based polities, Ambedkar said, “They do not want any Central or Provincial Governments. They just want India to contain so many village Governments. The love of the intellectual Indians for the village community is of course infinite if not pathetic.” Hearing these words, even Ambedkar’s opponents in the Assembly broke into laughter.
Notwithstanding The Word ‘Notwithstanding’
Then there was the speech of PS Deshmukh, who later became India’s first Minister for Agriculture. On September 8, 1949, Deshmukh remarked: “I think the comment is absolutely justified that this is going to be a lawyers’ constitution, a ‘Paradise for lawyers’, where, there will be so many innumerable loopholes that we will be wasting years and years before we could come to the final and correct interpretation of many clauses.” Explaining his point further, he took up the example of the word ‘notwithstanding,’ which recurs in the Constitution of India. “If we count the use of the word ‘notwithstanding’ in this Constitution, I am certain that the number of times that word is used will far exceed the use of the word ‘Parliament’ or ‘Constitution’ in the whole Constitution.”
On October 17 Kamath proposed to move a singular amendment meant to prefix the phrase, “In the name of God” before “We, the People of India” in the Preamble to the Constitution. Several members of the Assembly, including Purnima Banerji, a member from the United Provinces, alerted the Assembly to the ramifications. Banerji cautioned that “the matter of God” could not be “made the subject of discussion between a majority and a minority.” A. Thanu Pillai, a member from Travancore and Cochin State, though a self-avowed ‘believer,’ argued that the amendment could amount to “compulsion in the matter of faith.” Sensing that the atmosphere of the Assembly was turning tense, Rohini Kumar Chaudhury, a member from Assam, remarked dryly: “May I move an amendment to that of Shri Kamath that, instead of ‘In the name of God’, would he be pleased to accept ‘In the name of Goddess’?” Even in that very serious hour, Chaudhury’s intervention conjured peals of laughter. Later on, Chaudhury went on to amplify—especially after a criticism of the proposed amendment by freedom fighter and later Rajya Sabha Member, Hridya Nath Kunzru—that he believed in a Goddess. “I belong to Kamrup where the Goddess Kamakhya is worshipped,” he said.
Humour Is Necessary
These examples of humour and wit are not exhaustive, nor are they politically representative. But the intention behind these selections is merely to highlight how key protagonists often found themselves resorting to wit in their journey towards wisdom and while debating contentious issues.
During my research, I also came across some dubious comments that do the rounds on many a WhatsApp group today, attributed to the likes of Sardar Vallabhai Patel, Jawaharlal Nehru, and Rajendra Prasad. Once, when a member of the Constituent Assembly forgot to bring his notes, Nehru is said to have remarked: “It seems even our papers are demanding freedom from us.” On another occasion, when the national symbols of India were being discussed, Prasad is believed to have joked on the debate over choosing between a tiger or a lion: “As long as it is not goat, all else is fine.” These statements should still be considered fake unless someone can provide documented evidence of these words having been exchanged during the Assembly Debates. However, regardless of the veracity of these statements, there’s a lesson we must draw from these debates, especially in today’s age of passion and (mis)information: thou may have a sense of humour because the Constitution hath it.
[Arup K. Chatterjee is the author of The Great Indian Railways (2017, 2019), Indians in London (2021), and Adam’s Bridge (2024)]
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
