Two new books for young readers take us back to the making of the Indian Constitution. Together, they remind us that the Constitution is not only a political charter but also a cultural treasure: born of many voices, inscribed by a steady hand, and alive with stories that still speak to children and adults alike.
The making of the Indian Constitution was one of the great democratic experiments of the twentieth century. Unlike older democracies that evolved gradually, India chose to enshrine its democratic ideals at the very birth of the Republic, in a written Constitution. For a society as diverse as India’s—divided by caste, language, religion, and region—the stakes were immense. The document had to guarantee liberty and equality, while also holding together plural identities. Its strength lay not just in the values it proclaimed but also in the inclusive process by which it was crafted.
It is this spirit of inclusivity that animates 10 Makers of the Indian Constitution by Karthik Venkatesh. Written with children and young readers in mind, the book tells the story of ten remarkable individuals who played defining roles in shaping the Constitution. Yet, its lucid prose and vivid storytelling make it equally engaging for adults. For anyone seeking a lively introduction to the lives and ideas behind the Constitution, this slim volume serves as a perfect entry point. Karthik Venkatesh succeeds admirably in making complex debates accessible without oversimplification—a rare feat in writing about constitutional history.
His disagreements with Gandhi on caste are well known: Ambedkar insisted that political independence could not be meaningful without social emancipation, while Gandhi preferred a united front against colonial rule. Yet, the nationalist leadership acknowledged Ambedkar’s brilliance, inviting him to chair the Drafting Committee. Ambedkar himself rose above differences, pouring his formidable intellect into the task. The principles of liberty, equality, and affirmative action bear his unmistakable stamp. As Dr. Rajendra Prasad later observed, Ambedkar’s role was nothing short of foundational.
Where Ambedkar spoke for the oppressed castes, Jaipal Singh Munda gave voice to India’s tribal communities. A man of many talents—an Oxford graduate and captain of India’s gold-winning hockey team—Jaipal Singh founded the Adivasi Mahasabha and articulated the distinct identity of tribal peoples. In the Assembly, he secured safeguards and raised awareness of tribal concerns, ensuring that Adivasi voices were heard in the making of the Republic.
The Assembly also needed legal acumen, and here Alladi Krishnaswami Ayyar proved invaluable. A seasoned lawyer, he helped define the terms of Indian citizenship and defended the controversial inclusion of Emergency provisions, arguing that a fledgling nation could not afford instability. At the same time, he was a staunch believer in universal adult franchise, a principle that made India’s democracy truly radical at Independence.
Among the Assembly’s most striking figures was Dakshayani Velayudhan, the only Scheduled Caste woman member. Coming from a community historically subjected to untouchability, she could have demanded reparative measures for her people. Instead, she took the unusual position of opposing reservations for the Scheduled Castes, fearing they might compromise dignity.
Hasrat Mohani, poet and radical, had demanded purna swaraj as early as in 1921. His eclectic political journey—spanning the Congress, the Muslim League, and even the Communist Party—illustrated the ideological turbulence of the time. In the Assembly, elected on a League ticket, he opposed the Partition and questioned the legitimacy of an indirectly elected body drafting the Constitution.
Equally significant was KM Munshi, lawyer, writer, and cultural nationalist. He combined a desire that the Constitution reflect India’s spiritual essence with pragmatic positions—supporting free speech, reservations for Scheduled Castes and Tribes, and compromise on the national language through the Munshi-Ayyangar formula.
Where Munshi straddled tradition and modernity, Hansa Mehta pushed firmly for inclusivity. At the United Nations, she famously altered the wording of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights to read ‘all human beings’ instead of ‘all men’. At home, she presented the national flag to Nehru on behalf of Indian women on the eve of Independence, and in the Assembly, she championed women’s rights.
Regional diversity found its defender in James Joy Mohon Nichols Roy, whose advocacy resulted in the Sixth Schedule, granting autonomy to tribal areas in the Northeast. The Assembly’s functioning was also sustained by figures like G Durgabai, a child prodigy turned lawyer, whose work on the Steering Committee helped clarify complex amendments for the wider body.
Overarching all these voices were Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru, the two figures who shaped the moral and political environment in which Constitution-making unfolded. Gandhi never entered the Constituent Assembly, yet his imprint was everywhere—in the insistence on nonviolence, the moral weight of inclusivity, and the conviction that the Constitution must speak to the poorest and most marginalized. Nehru, in turn, provided the political leadership within the Assembly. His Objective Resolution laid out the guiding principles of the Constitution, but his influence went further. He worked tirelessly to balance ideological divides, persuading colleagues to set aside personal ambitions for collective consensus. Just as Gandhi encouraged co-option of critics and dissenters, Nehru reached out to figures across the spectrum, scouting talent and ensuring their voices were heard. The complementarity of their leadership—Gandhi as moral compass, Nehru as political organizer—gave the Assembly its plural character and its ability to absorb difference without breaking. For young readers, their stories together highlight the truth that building a nation requires both vision and patience, principle and pragmatism.
The book also pays tribute to the ‘other makers’—B.N. Rau, the constitutional advisor whose drafts were invaluable; Nandlal Bose, whose artwork adorned the manuscript; and Prem Behari Narain Raizada, the calligrapher whose elegant script gave the Constitution its visual grace.
What makes 10 Makers of the Indian Constitution particularly engaging is the way it weaves these diverse stories into a coherent narrative. Written for younger readers, it explains complex debates in simple, elegant prose. Yet, adults will find it no less rewarding, for it captures the drama, diversity, and idealism of Constitution-making without drowning in technicalities. Venkatesh deserves praise for striking this balance—educating without patronizing, narrating without diluting. His book is both an introduction for children and a refresher for adults; a reminder that the Constitution was born from debate, diversity, and the moral imagination of its makers.
A fine companion volume is Hands That Wrote History: How Prem Behari Narain Raizada Calligraphed the Indian Constitution by Mamta Nainy, with illustrations by Priyankar Gupta. Here the narration captures the range of emotions a child feels—curiosity, excitement, even playfulness—drawing readers into the story as if they were listening to family elders recounting tales of the past. Nainy’s prose has a lyrical quality, while Gupta’s illustrations bring to life Raizada’s quiet yet extraordinary role in turning the Constitution into a visual masterpiece. The book allows children to marvel at how something as simple as calligraphy could become a nation-shaping act, while adults will appreciate the reminder that beauty and artistry were woven into the making of the Republic. If Venkatesh’s book highlights the voices that debated and shaped the Constitution, Nainy and Gupta’s work celebrates the artistry of the man whose elegant pen inscribed it. Read together, the two books show that India’s Constitution is not just a legal document but also a cultural treasure—crafted by many minds and quite literally written into history.