india be damned

A NOVEL OF PARTITION

INDIA BE DAMNED is an epic thriller set in India during the last days of the Raj.

As the empire winds down, a group of foreigners in Delhi feud and fight, betray and fall in love, risk death and die. The correspondents of the Times and Newsweek and a young freelancer fresh from London, a Rajasthani aristocrat and the Englishwoman who has been Mahatma Gandhi’s long-serving PA – all are ripped from their moorings as independence and partition shatter their long-held certainties.

‘An entertaining novel of the dying days of the Raj and of the blinkered arrogance that even then afflicted its servants.’ Shashi Tharoor, author of Inglorious Empire: What the British Did to India

‘A masterpiece…shiningly written.’ Luke Harding, author of Mafia State, A Very Expensive Poison, Invasion

‘Popham elegantly weaves fiction and fact together in a tale brilliantly told. A must read.’ Anne Penketh, author of the Sam Clayton murder mysteries

‘Powerfully evocative. This superb novel is a must-read for those interested in historical fiction and Britain’s colonial legacy.’ Humphrey Hawksley, author and broadcaster

‘A fascinating account of an important period in India’s history.’ Stephen Vines, author of Defying the Dragon: Hong Kong and the World’s Largest Dictatorship

‘An amazing achievement, it brings the place, the period and the characters so vividly to life. I am gripped and have been reading all weekend.’ Harriet Sergeant, journalist and author of Among the Hoods

India Be Damned…

…traces the fate of a group of Indians and foreigners ripped from their moorings by the first murderous months of independence, their long-held certainties shattered.

As the independence deadline approaches Britain plays a wild card, appointing world-famous war hero Lord Mountbatten the last Viceroy. “Dickie” and his socialist wife Edwina imbue the end of empire with their celebrated panache, and for foreign journalists and freedom fighters alike, it’s a dazzling show. But when Mountbatten decides to rush the process to its conclusion, he damns India to a baptism of blood.

“Lord Mountbatten…

“…looked like a movie star. He was rich, royal, his chest was covered in medals. He was Prince Charming, a war hero, as famous as it was possible to be famous, yet he wore his fame without pride or pomposity.

“He was a sort of demigod. And he was coming to India at top speed, rushing valiantly to India’s aid. Then he was going to close down the Empire, and hand over the keys and all the money and everything else to India, with a movie star smile and a self-deprecating joke.”

The Reckoning

“Barty pushed the door with his boot. It creaked open. A wild-looking figure with matted hair and beard came to the door. From his fingers dangled a kitchen knife the size of a cutlass. He squinted at Barty and Starr. Then he went back inside and returned, hauling Krishna by the hair. Krishna wailed with pain and fright.

‘Here,’ he said, giving the boy a shove so he fell on the ground at their feet. ‘Here’s one of yours. There’s no point him staying with me. He’ll end up dead.’

He squinted at the two men again, then took off his glasses and stood six inches from Zacharay Starr and peered into his face. ‘I know you,’ he said.

The End of the Affair

“Fred went through the newspapers with a catch of terror in his heart. Hilda’s death. The sky falling in. He scoured the columns for these events, and not finding them put the paper quickly away.

Nothing happened.

Pure limbo.

World War Three, brewing up over there somewhere, beyond the innocent hills…”

“Fred, you people are in power!”

Vandana Singh exhaled a plume of smoke. “Don’t be silly, Fred,” she said.

“Where does ‘silly’ come into it?”

“Fred dear, you’re British. The Raj is dying on its feet.”

“Why is this a problem?”

“You people are in power,” she explained gently. “Outrageous though it seems, you’ve been in power here for centuries. What do you imagine your life here would be like if you weren’t?”

“The Prospect of Freedom…

…had shaken all the malign ghosts of the past from their sleep.

Beggars materialised at traffic lights like a guilty conscience…”

What Partition Did

“This is the bloodiest corner of India: all the invaders rampaged through the Punjab, but it was a passing thing like a storm of wind. The invading army swept through, the local rulers were maybe murdered and replaced, but the peasants stayed where they were, for hundreds, thousands of years: more rooted than the trees, older than religion.

“The religion might change, forcibly, whole villages forced to come over to Allah, but the people stayed where they were. The home, the land, the things you cannot remove, these are the things that matter. Tear a peasant from the land of his ancestors, how much of the man remains?”

Welcome to my new website. You’ll get a taste here of my novel, India Be Damned.

It’s a tough title. You’ve noticed that already.

How we Brits loved India! We couldn’t get enough of it!

Then in 1947 we did the mother of all bunks.

India Be Damned tells what it was like to be in the thick of that.

Peter Popham

“‘Christ almighty, give me a break!’ Fisher cried, slamming the old tome down. These blasted Brits! Not content with ripping the guts out of India, they have to slobber all over it! They have to make it their own for ever and ever, even the bits they haven’t got their mitts on, spraying anything the eye can bear to look at with their tomcat romanticism…”