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Man with an Angora Cap. While the Cabinet Mission still talked with India's leaders, a meeting was held in the courtyard of Anglo-Arabic College across Delhi from the Viceroy's palace. Green and white banners flaunted unacademic slogans: "Pakistan or die," "We are determined to fight." The speeches were equally inflammatory. Said Abdul Qaiyum Khan from the North-West Frontier Province: "I hope the Moslem nation will strike swiftly before [a Hindu] government can be set up in this country. . . . The Moslems will have no alternative but to take out their swords." Said Sirdar Shaukat Hyat Khan of the Punjab (which furnishes more than half the troops of the Indian regular army): "The Punjabi Moslems . . . will fight for you unto the death."
One of the wealthiest of Moslem leaders, Sir Firozkhan Noon, a Punjab landowner, did not hesitate to wave the Red flag; "If neither [the Hindus nor the British] give [Pakistan] to us . . . if our own course is to fight, and if in that fight we go down, the only course for Moslems is to look to Russia. ... I will be the first to lose every rupee I have in order that we may be free in this country." Five thousand Moslems cheered. Even the women in the purdah enclosure to the left of the platform could be heard-applauding behind their screen.
The presiding officer was neither shocked nor carried away by the incendiary speeches. Mohamed Ali Jinnah, clad in black angora cap, a long black sherwani (tunic), and tight-fitting black churidar on his wire-thin legs, smiled his ice-cold smile. He was at the peak of his power. He was the man who might say whether one-fifth of the world's people would be free. His 5 ft. 11 in. and 119 Ibs. stood between India and independence.
Man with a Monocle. After the meeting, Jinnah got out of his political costume as soon as possible, relaxed in his comfortable New Delhi home (he has a more palatial one on Bombay's Malabar Hill). He changed quickly to a tropical grey suit, blue & black striped tie, black & white sport shoes. Later, as he read to a reporter passages from one of his past speeches, Jinnah screwed a monocle into his right eye. He wears Moslem dress only because his enemies sneer that Jinnah, head of India's Moslem League, is lax in his religious observances. ("Jinnah does not have a beard; Jinnah does not go to the Mosque; Jinnah drinks whiskey!") With his perfect English, which he speaks better than his native Gujerati, his slick grey hair and graceful, precise gestures, he might be a European diplomat of the old school. How such a man at a fateful moment in history came to be the spokesman for millions of Moslem peasants, small shopkeepers and soldiers, is a story of love of country and lust for power, a story that twists and turns like a bullock track in the hills.