The Ten Minutes That Changed History: What Really Happened When Gandhi Was Assassinated

 

On January 30, 1948, Mahatma Gandhi hurried across the lawn at Birla House in New Delhi. He was late for his daily prayer meeting, a fact that irritated him deeply. He had forgotten his watch and become distracted by visitors.

Ten minutes behind schedule, Gandhi scolded his grandnieces Manu and Abha as they walked beside him. "Even a minute's delay for the prayer causes me great discomfort," he told them.

He would never reach that prayer meeting.

What happened in those final moments reveals details that challenge the simple narrative most people know about Gandhi's death. The assassination was not a sudden act by a lone fanatic. It was the culmination of multiple attempts, political calculations, and a controversy that still sparks debate today.

The Prayer Gesture That Hid a Gun

As Gandhi approached the waiting crowd of approximately 500 people, a man stepped forward from the assembly. Nathuram Godse folded his hands in the traditional Hindu greeting, the namaste gesture that signals respect and reverence. Between his palms, Godse concealed a small-caliber Beretta pistol. When Gandhi came within range, Godse fired three shots at point-blank range into Gandhi's chest, abdomen, and upper thigh. The 78-year-old leader collapsed immediately. For several seconds, the crowd stood paralyzed. No one could process what had just happened. A BBC reporter present at the scene later described the atmosphere: "Everyone seemed dazed and numb." Herbert Reiner Jr., a 32-year-old American vice-consul who had recently arrived in Delhi, broke the spell. He seized Godse by the shoulders, preventing the assassin from escaping into the confused crowd. Reiner's action made front-page news worldwide, though the diplomat's role is often forgotten in historical accounts.

The assassination at Birla House was actually the fourth time Godse had tried to kill Gandhi. In 1944, Godse attempted to assassinate Gandhi twice—once with a knife and once with a dagger. Both times, Gandhi refused to press charges, and Godse was released. Just ten days before the fatal shooting, on January 20, 1948, conspirators including Godse had planted a bomb at the same prayer ground. The plot failed when one conspirator lost his nerve and fled the scene. Gandhi's security remained minimal despite these threats. He believed in living without fear and refused heavy protection. This principle would cost him his life.

The assassination plot began on January 13, 1948, the day Gandhi started a fast-unto-death. Gandhi's demand was specific: the Indian government must release 550 million rupees owed to Pakistan. India had withheld the payment because officials feared Pakistan would use the funds for military action against India. The two nations had been created through the violent Partition just months earlier, and tensions remained explosive. When India yielded to Gandhi's pressure on January 18 and agreed to release the funds, Hindu extremists viewed this as a betrayal. To them, Gandhi was favoring Muslims over Hindus, prioritizing Pakistan's interests over India's security. Godse and his co-conspirators saw Gandhi's fast as the final proof that the Mahatma had become a threat to Hindu interests. They began planning immediately. The Partition of India in August 1947 had created two nations along religious lines: Hindu-majority India and Muslim-majority Pakistan. The division sparked massive communal violence. Estimates suggest between 200,000 and two million people died in the riots and forced migrations. Gandhi had spent his final months trying to stop the violence, fasting and traveling to riot-torn areas. Some Hindus blamed him for the Partition itself, believing his commitment to Hindu-Muslim unity had weakened India's negotiating position. This political context transformed Gandhi from a revered independence leader into a controversial figure in his final year.

The Trial and Its Aftermath

During his trial at Delhi's historic Red Fort in May 1948, Godse delivered a 30,000-word confession that took nine hours to read. He called the murder "wholly and exclusively political." He claimed he acted alone, though seven others were eventually convicted as co-conspirators. Most remarkably, he described his final moments before pulling the trigger: "Before I fired the shots I actually wished him well and bowed to him in reverence." Godse accepted the death sentence but never expressed remorse. "I am not at all sorry for what I have done," he stated in court. The trial revealed the depth of political opposition Gandhi faced. Godse argued that Gandhi's policies had weakened India and emboldened Pakistan. He believed assassination was necessary to protect Hindu interests.

In a demonstration of commitment to their father's principle of nonviolence, Gandhi's sons Manilal and Ramdas pleaded for clemency for Godse and his co-conspirator Narayan Apte. They asked that the assassins not be executed. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, Deputy Prime Minister Vallabhbhai Patel, and Governor-General Chakravarti Rajagopalachari all rejected the appeals. Godse and Apte were hanged on November 15, 1949, at Ambala jail. This detail reveals the complexity of Gandhi's legacy. His sons understood that executing the assassins contradicted everything their father had taught about responding to violence with compassion.

Gandhi's alleged final words remain controversial. The widely reported version claims Gandhi uttered "He Ram, He Ram" ("Oh God, Oh God") as he died. This phrase has become part of the historical narrative, suggesting Gandhi died with God's name on his lips. Gandhi's granddaughter Mani, in whose lap his head rested as he died, announced "Bapu (father) is finished." However, Gopal Godse, the assassin's brother, later claimed Gandhi only uttered "a feeble 'ah'" as breath left his body. Gopal alleged the government fabricated the religious phrase to portray Gandhi as a devout Hindu and to counter the narrative that a Hindu had killed him. The truth remains uncertain. In the chaos and shock of the moment, different witnesses reported different details. The debate reflects larger questions about how Gandhi's death was politically managed and memorialized.

The Impact on a Nation

The following day, an estimated one million people lined the five-mile funeral route to the Yamuna River. Gandhi's body was carried on an army weapons carrier. Workers had dismantled the chassis overnight and installed a high floor so mourners could see the body as it passed. Air force planes dropped flowers from above. The journey took five hours instead of the anticipated time because crowds repeatedly surged forward, overwhelming security. Prime Minister Nehru gave an emotional radio address the night of the assassination. His words captured the nation's shock: "The light has gone out of our lives, and there is darkness everywhere. I do not know what to tell you and how to say it." Outside Birla House, Nehru nearly collapsed while addressing the crowd. "Dear Bapu is no more," he murmured. "Let us not cry, but try to carry out the ideals he preached in his lifetime."

Despite the religious tensions that had plagued India since Partition, Gandhi's assassination led to a temporary halt in communal violence across most of the country. People poured into streets not to riot but to mourn. This response demonstrated how deeply Gandhi's teachings of nonviolence had taken root. Even those who disagreed with his politics recognized the magnitude of the loss. Riots did break out in Bombay (now Mumbai), where attacks targeted Brahmins because Godse belonged to that caste. But these incidents were exceptions. The broader national response was grief, not revenge.

The ten minutes between Gandhi leaving his room and his death contain layers that complicate the simple story of martyrdom. Gandhi was human—frustrated by his own lateness, dependent on others to keep him on schedule. His assassin approached with a gesture of respect, highlighting the twisted logic that allowed Godse to revere Gandhi's stature while believing his death was necessary. The multiple assassination attempts reveal that Gandhi's final months were more dangerous than most accounts suggest. The political opposition to his policies was not abstract—it was organized, determined, and willing to use violence. The debate over his final words shows how even the smallest details of historical events become contested territory. Different groups claim different versions because those details support different narratives about what Gandhi represented and how he should be remembered. Gandhi's sons pleading for mercy for their father's killer demonstrates the profound challenge of living by principles of nonviolence when confronted with actual violence. They understood their father's teachings in ways that made them willing to forgive the unforgivable.

Gandhi's assassination did not end his influence. If anything, his death amplified his message. The temporary halt in communal violence after the assassination proved that his teachings had changed how millions of people thought about conflict and response. The fact that riots did not consume India after a Hindu killed the nation's most revered leader shows the depth of transformation Gandhi had achieved. The details that emerge from examining those final ten minutes humanize Gandhi without diminishing his significance. He was late to a prayer meeting. He scolded his grandnieces. He walked through a crowd without adequate security because he refused to live in fear. These details matter because they show that historical transformation does not require perfection. Gandhi changed the world while being fully human—frustrated, vulnerable, and flawed. The assassination itself reveals the cost of pursuing reconciliation in a divided society. Gandhi died because he refused to abandon his commitment to Hindu-Muslim unity, even when that commitment made him deeply unpopular with extremists on both sides. Seventy-five years later, the questions Gandhi grappled with remain relevant. How do societies heal after communal violence? When does compromise become capitulation? How do leaders balance security with the principles they claim to represent? The ten minutes that ended Gandhi's life continue to illuminate these questions. The details matter because they reveal the human complexity behind historical transformation—the courage required, the opposition faced, and the cost of refusing to compromise on fundamental principles.