In 1946, as India stood on the brink of freedom, the Congress Party was to choose its first Prime Minister. Of the 15 Pradesh Congress Committees that submitted nominations, 12 chose Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel. Three abstained. Not one nominated Jawaharlal Nehru. Patel’s credentials were unmatched, a man who had led India’s farmers, organised mass satyagrahas (Bardoli Satyagrah), and proved time and again that he could turn ideas into action. Yet, destiny would take a different turn.
When Mahatma Gandhi realised Nehru might not accept anyone else as Prime Minister, he intervened. He urged Patel to withdraw, fearing a rift in the movement’s final moments. Patel obeyed, silently and gracefully. At seventy-one, knowing it was his only chance, he stepped aside for the sake of unity. Dr. Rajendra Prasad would later say, “Gandhi once again sacrificed his trusted lieutenant for the glamorous Nehru.” Maulana Azad, too, would call it one of the Congress’s greatest mistakes. But Patel held no bitterness. When Nehru invited him to join the cabinet, Patel simply said, “My services will be at your disposal for the rest of my life.” The man who could have been Prime Minister became India’s first Deputy Prime Minister and Home Minister, and went on to keep the rest of India united after Partition.
When Independence arrived, India was not one seamless country. It was a patchwork of 562 princely states, each with its own ruler, army, and currency. The British withdrawal had left them free to join either India or Pakistan or remain independent. Without firm leadership, India could easily have splintered into dozens of warring mini-nations. It was at this critical moment Patel took on the impossible task with a blend of diplomacy, persuasion, and determination that would come to define his legacy.
He crafted the Instrument of Accession, a simple but brilliant framework under which rulers would hand over Defence, Foreign Affairs, and Communications to India while retaining internal autonomy. It gave them dignity, yet ensured India’s unity. To sweeten the deal, he introduced the Privy Purse, an annual allowance for the princes who agreed to join, an act of political tact and economic assurance. Patel’s diplomacy worked not through threats but through trust. He would invite rulers for tea, appeal to their patriotism, and urge them to “join us in building the nation your people dream of.” One by one, the states came on board. By August 15, 1947, all but three, Hyderabad, Junagadh, and Kashmir, had joined India.
Patel handled each remaining challenge with firmness and clarity. In Junagadh, where a Muslim ruler wanted to join Pakistan despite a Hindu-majority population, he ordered a plebiscite. 99.95% voted to join India, the first democratic integration of an Indian state. In Hyderabad, when the Nizam refused accession and his Razakar militia unleashed terror, Patel waited, warned, and finally acted. In a swift 109-hour military operation, Indian forces liberated Hyderabad. The Nizam surrendered on 17 September 1948, and another piece of India’s unity was secured.
Kashmir, however, became the most complicated of all. When Pakistan-backed tribal invaders entered the Valley in October 1947, Patel pushed for immediate military action. Once Maharaja Hari Singh signed the Instrument of Accession on October 26, Indian troops landed in Srinagar and repelled the invaders.
But as the dust settled, Nehru, whose family hailed from Kashmir, decided to take personal charge of the issue. Against Patel’s advice, he chose to internationalise it by taking the matter to the United Nations in January 1948. That one decision changed the course of history. It froze the conflict, legitimised Pakistan’s illegal invasion, and left a wound that continues to shape India’s destiny. Even after the UN debacle, it was Patel who quietly managed internal stability, ensuring administrative control, troop coordination, and the protection of Kashmir’s accession.
Beyond the map, Patel also built the machinery that would hold the new nation together. He believed unity was not just geographical but institutional. As Home Minister, his role was important in creating the Indian Administrative Service and the Indian Police Service. He called them the “Steel Frame of India.” In his words, “A united India needs officers with a national outlook, disciplined, efficient, and proud of their service.” To this day, every district collector and police officer carries forward that legacy of national service.
During the chaos of Partition, when the subcontinent was torn by riots and mass migration, Patel was the man holding India together. While others spoke of ideals, Patel worked through sleepless nights restoring order, rehabilitating millions of refugees, and preventing Delhi itself from collapsing into anarchy. His was leadership of action, not the oratory of resolve, not rhetoric.
Yet, for decades after Independence, the man who had built the nation’s unity was quietly pushed to the margins of public memory. Congress governments rarely celebrated his birth anniversary, no major memorial was built in his honour. But history, as always, found its balance.
In recent years, Sardar Patel’s legacy has been rightfully restored. October 31 is now celebrated as Rashtriya Ekta Diwas, and the towering Statue of Unity, the world’s tallest statue, stands as a living tribute to the Iron Man who shaped modern India.
Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel turned 562 fragments into one nation. He welded geography into identity and unity into destiny. The man who sacrificed the Prime Ministership became the builder of the Republic itself. His story is not just about uniting land, but about uniting purpose, the quiet strength that transformed uncertainty into the foundation of a nation.
– Author: Krishnakant Jain (tweets at – @kkjain01) is a lawyer and keen observer of India’s political landscape and a passionate student of history, exploring how the past continues to shape the nation’s present.
