Imagine a majestic sandstone fortress, its towering domes and intricate carvings whispering tales of empire and independence. This is South Block, the iconic heart of Indian governance for nearly eight decades. But now, a new chapter unfolds. Prime Minister Narendra Modi has unveiled Seva Teerth, a modern complex that will house the Prime Minister's Office (PMO), marking a symbolic shift away from this colonial-era citadel. But what becomes of the grand South Block and its twin, North Block, on Raisina Hill? Prepare to be surprised.
And this is the part most people miss: these imposing structures, once symbols of British rule, are being reborn as the Yuge Yugeen Bharat Museum, envisioned as the world's largest museum. Spanning a staggering 155,000 square meters, it will chronicle India's rich history, a history these very buildings have witnessed firsthand.
This story begins in 1911, when the British Crown, in a bold move, shifted India's capital from Calcutta to Delhi. The task of designing this new imperial city fell to the renowned British architect Edwin Lutyens, whose vision gave birth to what we now know as Lutyens' Delhi. However, the Secretariat buildings on Raisina Hill, the North and South Blocks, were the brainchild of his contemporary, Herbert Baker. Completed in 1931, these symmetrical structures were designed to awe, their Indo-Saracenic Revival style blending European grandeur with Indian motifs like Dholpur sandstone, massive domes, and intricate jaalis.
But here's where it gets controversial: While Baker drew inspiration from Indian architecture, the very existence of these buildings, and the inauguration of New Delhi in 1931, was seen by many as an imperial imposition. Newspaper reports from the time, including the Hindustan Times, paint a picture of a ceremony devoid of popular support, heavily guarded by armed police, and designed to showcase the supremacy of the British Raj.
Historian Swapna Liddle, in her book Connaught Place and the Making of New Delhi, quotes The Times, London, stating, “It would be idle to pretend that the ceremony had any popular support...” and goes on to cite a Hindustan Times editorial that bluntly declared the event “imperialistic” and a demonstration of “the supremacy of the White Man.”
After independence, however, these very corridors became the crucible of a new nation. Jawaharlal Nehru, India's first Prime Minister, worked from South Block, while Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, the architect of a united India, operated from North Block, overseeing the integration of 562 princely states. Within these walls, Five-Year Plans were forged, decisions of war and peace were made, and the trajectory of India's economic reforms was set.
The PMO itself evolved within these walls. From Nehru's small secretariat to its institutionalization under Lal Bahadur Shastri and its growing aura of power during Indira Gandhi's tenure, the PMO has witnessed it all. “The grandeur of the building added an aura of power to the PMO,” observes Himanshu Roy, author of PMO: Prime Minister’s Office Through the Years.
While South Block holds immense historical significance, its limitations are undeniable. “The South Block had restrictions on space... I still remember the tiny lift that everyone had to use,” recalls Sharat Chander, former information officer in the PMO. The move to Seva Teerth, a modern facility reflecting the aspirations of a new India, is therefore seen as both timely and necessary.
This shift raises important questions: Is this simply a practical move for a growing bureaucracy, or does it symbolize a conscious break from the colonial past? Does the transformation of the Secretariat buildings into a museum represent a reclamation of Indian history, or a mere repackaging of a complex legacy?
Sangit K Ragi, professor of political science, sees it as a positive step: “This is a great move in doing away with colonial symbols and embracing our own culture... Our country is now moving towards a new consciousness.”
As South Block embarks on its new life as a museum, it invites us to reflect on the complexities of history, the weight of the past, and the aspirations of a nation looking towards the future. What stories will these walls tell now? The answer, like India itself, is ever-evolving.
