Sultan Khan: The Indian Servant Who Became Chess Champion of the British Empire 9056918745, 9789056918743

Table of contents :
Copyright Page
Contents
Foreword by Viswanathan Anand
London, 28th April 1929
Part I India
1 Sultan and his Master
2 Indian Rules
3 All-India Championship 1928
Part II England
4 A Passage to England
5 British Championship, Ramsgate 1929
6 On Parade
7 Tedious Play – Scarborough 1930
Part III Europe
8 Hamburg International Team Tournament 1930
9 Liège 1930
10 Club Matches and a Conference
11 Hastings Congress 1930/1931
12 Tartakower versus Khan
13 Gone to the Dogs
14 Insull Trophy Cable Match, London-Philadelphia
15 A Soirée with Capablanca
16 Prague International Team Tournament 1931
Part IV Fall and Rise
17 British Championship, Worcester 1931
18 Gandhi, Menchik and Alekhine
19 Hastings Congress 1931/1932
20 Sound Opening, Sound Game
21 The Sunday Referee Tournament 1932
22 Langford Club Match 1932
23 Cambridge Easter Congress 1932
24 An Adjudication
25 Bern International Tournament 1932
26 British Championship, London 1932
27 On Tour – Autumn 1932
Part V The Endgame
28 F.D.Yates: 1884-1932
29 Hastings Congress 1932/1933
30 Moving Away
31 Folkestone International Team Tournament 1933
32 British Championship, Hastings 1933
33 The Long Goodbye – Autumn 1933
34 Back Home
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Endnotes
Bibliography
Index of names

Citation preview

Sultan Khan

Daniel King

Sultan Khan The Indian Servant Who Became Chess Champion of the British Empire

With a foreword by former World Champion Viswanathan Anand

New In Chess 2020

© 2020 New In Chess Published by New In Chess, Alkmaar, The Netherlands www.newinchess.com All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission from the publisher. All photos: New In Chess Archives, unless indicated otherwise. Every reasonable effort has been made to trace copyright, but the publisher welcomes any information that clarifies the copyright ownership of any unattributed material displayed and will endeavour to include corrections in reprints. Cover design: Volken Beck Supervision: Peter Boel Editing and typesetting: René Olthof Proofreading: Dennis Keetman, Mairéad O’Siochrú Production: Anton Schermer, Joop de Groot Have you found any errors in this book? Please send your remarks to [email protected]. We will collect all relevant corrections on the Errata page of our website www.newinchess.com and implement them in a possible next edition. ISBN: 978-90-5691-874-3 softcover ISBN: 978-90-5691-875-0 hardcover

Contents Foreword by Viswanathan Anand London, 28th April 1929

Part I India 1 2 3

Sultan and his Master Indian Rules All-India Championship 1928

Part II England 4 5 6 7

A Passage to England British Championship, Ramsgate 1929 On Parade Tedious Play – Scarborough 1930

Part III Europe 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Hamburg International Team Tournament 1930 Liège 1930 Club Matches and a Conference Hastings Congress 1930/1931 Tartakower versus Khan Gone to the Dogs Insull Trophy Cable Match, London-Philadelphia A Soirée with Capablanca Prague International Team Tournament 1931

Part IV Fall and Rise 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

British Championship, Worcester 1931 Gandhi, Menchik and Alekhine Hastings Congress 1931/1932 Sound Opening, Sound Game The Sunday Referee Tournament 1932 Langford Club Match 1932 Cambridge Easter Congress 1932 An Adjudication Bern International Tournament 1932 British Championship, London 1932 On Tour – Autumn 1932

Part V The Endgame 28 29 30 31 32 33 34

F.D.Yates: 1884-1932 Hastings Congress 1932/1933 Moving Away Folkestone International Team Tournament 1933 British Championship, Hastings 1933 The Long Goodbye – Autumn 1933 Back Home

Epilogue Acknowledgements Endnotes Bibliography Index of names

FOREWORD BY VISWANATHAN ANAND Sultan Khan was a pioneer. He should serve as an inspiration for chess players from all over India, the sub-continent, and anyone struggling as an outsider against the odds. Coming from a modest background, he took on the greatest in the world and proved that he could match them. Over the last couple of decades in India we have grown used to our players enjoying success, and each triumph, whether in junior tournaments or elite events, has provided a new marker for others to follow: if they can do it, why can’t I? Imagine how much more difficult it would have been for Sultan Khan, who had only just learned the rules of the international game, was largely unschooled in opening theory, and was unfamiliar with the etiquette of standard tournament chess. He simply had no idea whether he was good enough to compete with established players. I felt the same in my first international tournaments. Deep down I was always asking myself – how far could I go? Did I really belong in this company? When in 1987 I became the first Asian to win the World Junior Championship, it felt to me like a validation that an Indian could achieve such successes and gave me the confidence to pursue further goals. Sultan Khan showed enormous strength of character to overcome his challenges. It is impressive to see the perseverance with which he played, his enormous will to win and his fearlessness at the board – no matter the opponent. He was quite unafraid of reputation and that is a lesson for every aspiring player. Much has been made of Sultan Khan’s lack of formal chess education and how he learned haphazardly just from playing. In our digital age, where the average teenage talent is able to prepare openings to checkmate, or rehearse hundreds of classic endgame positions against a computer, such inefficient

learning is hard to imagine. In fact, that is how I learned to play chess too. In general, in my early days, Indians had a more improvisational style than players in Europe. The only up-to-date theory I accessed was reading Informator – the Yugoslav collection of theoretically important games – every six months. At first when I came to England I imagined that everyone would have a far greater knowledge of the openings than I did, but I soon realised that the majority were as amateurish as I was. The Soviets, however, had a highly developed chess culture, and by studying with them – that’s when I made progress. Sultan Khan’s difficulties with the opening were more extreme than mine, but there are parallels with my experience: he could usually get away with his home-spun systems against the British players, but against the more sophisticated continental Europeans, he sometimes suffered. When I was growing up in the chess world, I had heard Sultan’s story but frankly it didn’t make a big impression on me. His exploits weren’t lauded by the Indian chess community as perhaps they should have been, and politics probably plays a part in this: his triumphs were under the British Raj in preindependence India and he lived the latter half of his life in the newly-created country of Pakistan. On top of that, Khan’s social background was very different from mine: he grew up in a village in rural Punjab; I grew up in cities, in Manila and Chennai, so that when I first visited London, for example, I did not experience the same kind of cultural shock as he would have done. His feudal relationship with his master, Sir Umar Hayat Khan, is from a bygone age and is outside our experience. Yet I can imagine that Sultan must have been very grateful for what he had, and this relationship did provide him with an extraordinary opportunity. In this respect, I see a commonality between us. Like him, I have had privileges, sometimes given, sometimes earned, and they have spurred me to exert myself. Quite simply, I have been given more than others and so I owe more. I am grateful for the help I have had on my journey, and I feel a weight of expectation from family and friends and an obligation to my nation. In the final year of his stay in Europe, the pressure Khan was under is all too evident, and that came not just from his patron, but also from the responsibility of being a representative of India – even if this was not expressly stated. Naturally, pressure is a part of every competitive sport, and this is

balanced by the rewards. After my World Championship victories, I was always given an extraordinary welcome back in India: thousands turned up at the airport and there was a ticker tape parade through the city in an open car. The scenes in Bombay when Sultan Khan arrived back for the final time must have been wonderful for him and they evoke my own happy memories of returning home. Even if the world that Sultan Khan inhabited seems distant, he should be remembered as the first Asian to break through into the upper echelons of the international chess scene. I hope that this book will serve to raise his profile and finally bring him the recognition that he deserves. Viswanathan Anand Chennai 2019

LONDON, 28TH APRIL 1929 In the middle of a smart function room, tables have been arranged into an enclosed rectangle, with thirty-five chessboards and pieces in their starting positions at evenly spaced intervals. On the outside of the rectangle are seated thirty-five players, but there are no chairs on the inside. The stage is set. A low buzz of nervous and excited chatter anticipates the arrival of the professional who will single-handedly take on all these players. A gentleman with dark slicked-back hair and olive complexion, dressed immaculately in a tail-coat, steps through a gap in the tables into the middle of the arena. It is early on a Sunday afternoon, a day of the week when an Englishman is allowed to relax his standards, so the gentleman’s vestments, which might appear as over-formal on others, mark him out as the star of the performance. José Raúl Capablanca has been described as the most gifted chess player that has ever lived, his victories seemingly effortless, as if he understands universal laws of the game lying deep within a position that are a mystery to others. Warm welcoming speeches are made and the crowd applauds. Capablanca shakes the hand of the player on the first board, makes a move, and begins his perambulation around the tables. A hush takes over the room. Capablanca’s opponents on this day are cosmopolitan: the simultaneous display is hosted by the Maccabeans, a club of the Anglo-Jewish elite, in a function hall of the Jewish Liberal Synagogue in leafy St. John’s Wood, north London. But even in this diverse company, the most striking player is a young Indian with a white turban jutting out in geometric shards from his head, the brilliance of the linen emphasising the dark skin of his face. Sultan Khan arrived in England just a few days ago. He is the All-India Chess Champion, but in Europe, as yet, virtually unknown. This afternoon he will be facing not just a seasoned western professional, but arguably the greatest strategist in the history of the game. Even if Capablanca has to battle thirty-five opponents simultaneously, the standard of chess will be at a

different level than the Indian champion will have ever previously experienced. Watching over Sultan Khan is another Indian, but his confident bearing, opulent robes and colourful headgear – the word turban does not do it justice – show him to be of a higher social status. Colonel Nawab Malik Sir Umar Hayat Khan, Tiwana, K.C.I.E., C.B.E., M.V.O., is about to become a member of the council that advises the British Secretary of State for India. He has extensive landholdings in the Punjab and is fiercely loyal to the Empire, serving in the British and Indian armies on three continents. Such loyalty marks out Sir Umar as a controversial character, even in London, where unrest among some Indians is also erupting. Sir Umar is Sultan Khan’s patron – perhaps master is a better description – bringing him into his household when he was made aware of his prodigious talent for chess. When Sir Umar came to London on his political mission, he brought his protégé with him to test his abilities against European opposition. While Sir Umar is a loyalist, one suspects his patronage of Sultan Khan is also a way of proving that Indians are the intellectual equal – at the very least – of their British masters. Simultaneous exhibitions are a way for amateurs to pit themselves against a professional, who in return picks up a healthy fee for condescending to labour against such lowly opposition. As a national champion Sultan Khan can hardly be put into this category, and it is irregular that he is playing among the pack against the star. But no one is quite sure of his strength as there has been little contact between Indian and western players. Most professionals will have played chess for a minimum of ten years before cutting their teeth in international competition. Remarkably, Sultan Khan has been playing the international form of the game for just three years, and only against limited opposition back in India. As is the convention in simultaneous displays, the professional takes the white pieces on all boards and, against Sultan Khan, the Cuban opens by advancing his queen’s pawn two squares forward. With this first move Khan immediately finds himself transported into another world – in the Indian game the foot-soldiers only have the right to move one square forward from their initial position. Over the last three years Khan will have practised this opening with his Indian colleagues, but their opening knowledge will count for little against Capablanca, who has used it as his main weapon in two

World Championship matches. J.R.Capablanca Sultan Khan Simultaneous display, London 28th April 1929 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 d5 4.♗g5 ♗e7 5.e3 a6

Khan’s speciality. Playing the rook’s pawn forward at this early stage is somewhat unorthodox, but there is a similarity with a system that Alekhine used in the Queen’s Gambit Declined against Capablanca in their World Championship match in 1927.

6.cxd5 exd5 7.♗d3 ♗e6?!

The Indian reveals his inexperience in the opening. For the moment there is no need to develop the queen’s bishop. He wants to support the d-pawn, but it would have been better to castle or develop the queen’s knight. A couple of years later Capablanca was to reach this position again in a simultaneous display and his consultation opponents played better: 7…0-0 8.♕c2 ♘bd7 9.♘ge2 ♖e8 10.♘g3 ♘f8 11.♘f5 ♗xf5 12.♗xf5 c6 13.0-0 ♘h5 14.♗xe7 ♖xe7, and the game was later drawn, Capablanca-Allies, Staten Island Chess Club simul, New York, 1931. 8.♘ge2 h6 9.♗h4 c5

Breaking the centre open with the king in the middle feels odd: 9…♘bd7 or

9…0-0 are more sensible. 10.dxc5 ♗xc5 11.0-0 ♘c6 12.♘f4

The opening has been a success for Capablanca. Black needs to bring the king to safety, but castling loses a pawn: 12…0-0 13.♘cxd5 ♗xd5 14.♘xd5 ♕xd5 15.♗xf6 (the bishop cannot be taken because of the discovered check) 15…♕e6 16.♗c3, with a stable advantage. Therefore Khan improvises, but the pawn advance weakens his position horribly: 12…g5 13.♘xe6 fxe6 14.♗g3 ♔e7

Given the lack of pawn cover, castling kingside doesn’t inspire confidence, but playing with his king in the middle of the board is still a bold decision. 15.♖c1 ♗d6

Making the best of the situation: Khan wants to exchange off one of Capablanca’s powerful bishops, reducing the danger to his king. 16.f4

Which Capablanca prevents. Apart from that, it makes sense to open the position with Black’s king still in the middle. 16…♕c7

A cool response, dissuading White from advancing or capturing with the fpawn. 17.♘e2 ♘g4

Counterplay. 18.♘d4

This is a natural move, made on feeling rather than calculation. In a simultaneous display, lingering at a board to look deeply into a position is impossible when there are dozens of opponents also waiting for a move. 18.♕b3! is stronger but would require too much time to work through the consequences: 18…♘xe3 19.♖f3 ♘g4 20.h3 ♘f6 21.fxg5, with the advantage. 18…♘xe3 19.♕e2 gxf4 20.♗h4+ ♔d7 21.♕h5

Considering Khan’s dubious opening play, and the shaky position of Black’s king, I can imagine that Capablanca felt he was closing in for the kill. 21…♖af8!

Excellent defence. Khan resists capturing the rook (21…♘xf1? 22.♘xe6! ♔xe6 23.♕f5 mate) and concentrates on preventing Capablanca’s threats. 22.♕g6 ♕b6

Well calculated. Many players would panic in the face of White’s attack but Khan keeps his cool. Instead, 22…♖e8 23.♗xa6 feels perilous. 23.♕xe6+ ♔c7

With deft footwork, the king reaches a relatively secure square. Capablanca now has a bewildering number of options to consider, and no clearly correct continuation. As the knight in the middle is en prise, then 24.♘xc6 is an obvious move: 24…bxc6 25.♖f2 (to shield the king) with a messy position, although Black’s king has found some security. Chances are level after 25…♖hg8 or 25…♖e8. 24.♗f6 protects the knight and keeps more tension, but Black holds the position with 24…♖hg8 25.♗e5 ♗xe5 26.♕xe5+ ♔d7 27.♕e6+ ♔c7. Because of the threats to the knight and the pawn on g2 White should force a draw. Instead, Capablanca self-destructed: 24.♕xd5?? ♘xd5

… and resigned. The Times correspondent wrote: ‘M.Sultan Khan is the champion of India, and he had the good fortune to find Capablanca making one of his very rare slips, resulting in the loss of the queen.’ The Daily Mail correspondent was also prepared to make excuses for the star: ‘Queen takes queen’s pawn was an obvious oversight on the part of the ex-world champion – a blunder always possible when so many players are being opposed simultaneously.’ He could at least see that by this stage Sultan Khan had survived the worst: ‘Without the mistake the game might have

been drawn, as Black does not appear to be at any disadvantage.’ The truth is this: Capablanca cracked in the face of stout defence. The Cuban would have been expecting to win this game considering how inaccurately his opponent had played the opening. Khan’s decision to leave his king in the middle of the board was risky in the extreme, but turned out to be a masterstroke. Expecting a swift victory Capablanca was provoked into a full-scale assault, but now the game had moved away from the smooth strategic paths where Capa was in his element towards a treacherous quagmire. At this moment, when he found himself in peril, Sultan Khan defended with coolness and originality – qualities he was to display so often in his later chess career. Such complicated and unusual positions require time to process and, in a simultaneous display, with the pressure of the other games in progress, time was precisely what Capablanca lacked. He was stepping on uncomfortably foreign ground. ‘Good fortune’? No, fine play; and all the more remarkable considering Khan’s inexperience in the Western game. Years later, Capablanca was to write: ‘The fact that even under such conditions he succeeded in becoming a champion reveals a genius for chess which is nothing short of extraordinary’. For the moment, let’s leave this hall in affluent north London and transport ourselves to a dusty corner of the Indian subcontinent, where Sultan Khan’s life began.

PART I

India

CHAPTER 1

Sultan and his Master ‘Sir Umar always came in looking like he would draw his sword at any minute; he was a very fierce-looking figure. Sultan Khan was not.’ – W.Ritson-Morry1 Sultan Khan. The name sounds noble, magnificent, even terrifying, reminiscent of the Mughal Emperors who conquered and ruled in northern India centuries before, but the reality was different. The future champion was born into a poor Muslim family in 1905 in a remote part of the Punjab, then part of the British Empire.2 This was a case of wishful nominative determinism – the family had no noble connection, but they hoped that their child would live up to his name.3 Sultan Khan’s home village of Mitha Tiwana lies on flat land between the Indus and Jhelum rivers around 500 miles north-west of New Delhi in the Sargodha district of what is now Pakistan. Although Mitha means ‘sweet water’ due to the natural springs that supply the village, the area is not naturally agriculturally rich. He was one of ten brothers, and their father, Nizamuddin, was the religious leader of the community. Sultan earned the title ‘Hafiz’, accorded to those who are able to recite the whole of the Koran by heart. Whether he received any other kind of education is not known, but he certainly had a very limited knowledge of the English language when, some years later, he arrived in London. Proficiency in English would have been a pre-requisite to gaining any official post in British India, so that gives an indication of the family’s low social status. Chess was popular in the family, as well as in the district. Sultan Khan learned the rules at the age of 9 from his father who was reputed to be a strong player, as was his grandfather. It should be emphasised, this was not the Western game, but chess with specific Indian rules – or some local variety of rules. Khan stated later that he and his brothers were compelled to play the

game. This is the first indication of a strained relationship between Khan and his father. Later Sultan Khan was to disclose, with modesty, that one of his brothers, who had died (presumably before Khan had started on his journey in the chess world) was the strongest of the siblings. This came to light in one of the first newspaper interviews that he gave in England, and he mentions the death in a matter-of-fact manner, suggesting that such tragedies were commonplace. Poor health was normal in poor areas. We don’t know how Khan earned a living in his early years, but his family owned some land that he may have cultivated.4 Home life for him does not sound settled: it is said that his father married for a second time and that his new step-brothers and sisters shunned him in the house. This prompted Sultan to approach the de facto ruler of Mitha Tiwana, the local landowner, Sir Umar Hayat Khan, looking for work. He had knocked on the right door. Sir Umar was a keen chess player and, recognising Sultan Khan’s potential, was happy to take him into his household.5 Sultan Khan would be unknown in the West, or even outside the Punjab, if it weren’t for his patron – and master – Colonel Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan Tiwana. His role in Sultan Khan’s story cannot be overstated: he spotted Sultan’s talent, took him into his household, provided tuition in Western chess, supported him financially, and was the prime mover in bringing him to Europe to test his skills against western opposition. Sir Umar and Sultan were so different in personality and social class, yet bound together by the game of chess.

Colonel Nawab Malik Sir Umar Hayat Khan (April 1930)

Sir Umar and Sultan Khan were complete contrasts. Sir Umar stood at well over six feet tall, was broad-shouldered, square-jawed and physically powerful; Sultan was, at most, five feet five inches and suffered from recurring bouts of malaria and, in Europe, regular attacks of influenza. Their physical appearance matched their personalities: Sir Umar was voluble, vain, clubbable, generous and extrovert; Sultan was mild-mannered, modest and introvert. No less contrasting was the difference in class. Sir Umar Hayat Khan was a hereditary chieftain of the Tiwana clan in the Punjab, an experienced soldier in the Indian and British Army, a politician in the Indian legislature and a sportsman of renown, enjoying polo, horse

racing, dog racing, camel racing, running, wrestling, hunting, falconry – and any other outdoor competitive pursuit that you might care to name. He had inherited considerable landholdings all over the Punjab, but his principle income was derived from the Kalra estate on the Lahore side of the Jhelum River comprising 13,000 acres, not far from Mitha Tiwana where Sultan Khan was born. The Tiwana clan had a reputation as fierce and courageous warriors, gained over centuries of fighting in northern India, a region that has seen foreign invasions going back to the earliest recorded history. They ensured their survival by sensing who was in the ascendancy – and then backing them. Sir Umar was fiercely loyal to the British, but he was only continuing the policy of his ancestors over the past millennium. In Sanskrit, a Tiwana is a Hindu with knowledge of the three Vedic scriptures – the Vedas, Brahamanas and Upanishads. Yet the Tiwana embraced Islam in the 13th century. The Islamic Sultanate had come to power in Delhi in 1206, and this conversion might have been a way of ensuring the tribe’s survival. Whether this was serendipitous or not, they certainly proved to be politically adept over the following centuries. By pledging allegiance to whoever was in power, the Tiwana were rewarded with land and political influence. They supported the Mughal Emperors in the 16th century but, by the early 19th century, seeing the wind blow in a different direction, assisted the Sikhs in expanding their power in the Punjab. Later, when British influence grew in India, the Tiwana switched their colours again and played a decisive role in the Anglo-Sikh battles of the 1840s. During the Indian revolt of 1857, several of the tribe remained loyal to the British and helped in putting down the uprising, not just in the Punjab, but continuing the campaign south into central India. One of those loyalists was Sir Umar’s father, Malik Sahib Khan, who led one thousand horsemen to recover Delhi from the rebels. For this he was handsomely rewarded by the British, and the Tiwana became the largest landholders in the Punjab. In 1879, when Sir Umar was five years old, his father died, at which point the British took the main Kalra estate under their supervision until Umar was old enough to take charge. In the meantime, private tutors were provided to give him a very British outlook on life, and his education was completed at Aitchison College for Chiefs in Lahore. This was typical of British policy throughout the sub-continent. From the

time that they took over direct rule of India in 1858, a systematic attempt had been made to indoctrinate the sons of Indian nobility and the professional classes with the ethos of the British ruling classes. Cultivating like-minded native allies was crucial if Britain was to maintain control of its Empire, and that was particularly important in the remote, volatile and strategically significant north-west of India. Indian public schools taught similar subjects and played similar sports and games to British public schools, so it is unsurprising that they also produced a similar breed of person: ‘The product may be limited in its intellectual range, narrow in its sympathies and arrogant in its assumptions, but at the same time it displays a capacity to set up and abide by standards of conduct and a readiness to accept responsibility.’ (The Indian Public School 1942)6 If we add vanity and a passion for pageantry and flummery, then this would be a reasonable description of Sir Umar. Once he came of age and took over the running of his estates in the Punjab, in effect he became a feudal lord of the British. In return for autonomous rule over his landholdings, Sir Umar was expected to be a loyal subject – and fiercely loyal he proved to be. Sir Umar served in the British Indian army (and the British army) in Somaliland (1903), Tibet (1903-4), Flanders (1914-15), Mesopotamia (1915), Punjab (1919) and Afghanistan (1919). He also acted as a recruiting sergeant. As a powerful landlord, Sir Umar had the means to distribute favours, and those living on his estates had good reason to remain loyal to him. During all these conflicts, he provided hundreds of recruits for the British. In return, Sir Umar was rewarded with more land, more titles and more political influence. Significantly, in 1903 he was made Honorary Lieutenant of the Tiwana Lancers, a cavalry regiment raised by Sir Umar’s father. A mark of the esteem in which the Lancers were held is that the Prince of Wales – later King George V – became their colonel-in-chief in 1906. In 1911 Sir Umar was made the King’s Indian Herald at the Great Coronation Delhi Durbar of King George V and Queen Mary where his voice was described by one correspondent as ‘singularly penetrating’.7 The royal connection was later to

open many doors for Sir Umar and, by extension, Sultan Khan. With all his military accomplishments, his sporting prowess, and the honours heaped upon him by the British, perhaps it’s no wonder that Sir Umar’s vanity led him to pursue a decadent lifestyle. He organised lavish parties at his various residences and, in spite of being a devout Muslim, was a heavy drinker. Yet when combined with his sense of duty, this vanity also led him to perform good works on his estate: there was a mosque for Muslim tenants, but he also built a temple for Hindus. He provided education for all on the estate and helped those who found themselves in straightened circumstances. He didn’t just fulfil his feudal duties to the British, but to those living on his land as well, where he was a popular landlord. Sir Umar’s generosity, combined with his passion for sport and chess, led him to invite Sultan Khan into his household. In effect, Khan became a court chess player, following in a tradition going back centuries to the Caliphs in the Middle East and the Mughal Emperors in India.

At his palace in Fatehpur Sikri, Agra, Emperor Akbar played board games in a huge indoor courtyard, including living chess, with real elephants, horses and servants for the remaining pieces. Akbar used chess as a way to test the character of his subjects.8

Sultan Khan joined Sir Umar’s household in 1926, an exciting time for Indian

chess. There was increasing interest in the Western game, and that was undoubtedly due to the growth of the British educational system. From the beginning of the 19th century the British had recognised that if they were to maintain the jewel in the crown of their empire – the egregiously exploited and profitable Indian subcontinent – they would need to educate a professional class of Indians to run the vast country with its enormous population. After the tumultuous uprising of 1857, the British government took over the direct running of the country from the East India Company and even more effort was put into the foundation of government schools, colleges and universities in order to educate more Indians. By the mid-1880s, many thousands had obtained degrees, and another half-a-million had been through secondary school, all taught in English and inculcated with British political ideas. A by-product of this development was that Western chess became more widespread – at least among this educated class of Indians.9 From around 1850 a steady flow of chess books was published in various Indian languages: Marathi, Bengali, Urdu, and Hindi. The first newspapers appeared in India in 1833, with regular chess columns spreading knowledge and cementing the European rules.10 In 1878 the first recorded round-robin chess tournament ever held in India took place in Calcutta. There was a healthy mix of British and Indian players, as shown by the joint winners, Robert Steele and I.C.Gossain. By the beginning of the 20th century the number of tournaments with Western rules was increasing and the trend was clear. In his 1913 book A History of Chess, H.J.R.Murray noted that, ‘… observers say that these [native] games are gradually losing ground, and there can be little doubt that in the long run […] will be replaced by the European chess.’ Indians were beginning to organise their own tournaments. The first ‘AllIndia’ tournament was held at the Beaman Chess Club in Bombay in 1909, and this started a tradition. The growth in national consciousness at the end of the 19th century fuelled the ambitions of Indian chess players. The Indian National Congress

Party had been formed in 1885 to represent the case for reform to the British government. However, in the face of British intransigence, Congress became more radical and grew into the leading voice for Indian independence. By the 1920s, when Mahatma Gandhi became leader, they had a membership numbering in the millions. Internationally, India began to establish an independent profile from Britain thanks to its involvement in World War I. Over two million Indians served overseas for the Allies, and that led to India taking part in the post-war negotiations and becoming a signatory of the Versailles treaty. That in turn guaranteed India admission into the League of Nations in 1920 – despite its lack of domestic political autonomy – an anomaly that Britain supported as it could control India’s vote. Membership of the League instilled a greater sense of nationhood in India. How could it not, with ‘self-determination’ a fundamental aim of the Versailles treaty? The construction of the Suez Canal in 1869, the introduction of the telegraph and the wireless, the growth of newspapers and, in the early decades of the 20th century, the development of aviation, connected India with the rest of the world as never before. Indian chess players were regularly hearing reports of tournaments in Europe and America, and they wanted to test themselves on the world stage. A milestone in international recognition took place in 1924 when Vinayak Kashinath Khadilkar became the first Indian to participate in the British Championship. Khadilkar was a landowner and educated. He had studied chess conscientiously and read many books on the Western style of play. A photograph of Khadilkar shows him smartly dressed in western clothes: a suit with a tie, and a watch-chain attached from his lapel into his top pocket, with a serious countenance to match. With the financial support of three Indian princes, Khadilkar sailed first class from Bombay to London and then on to the north-west of England to the affluent town of Southport, just along the coast from Liverpool.11

Atkins, Yates and Thomas were the best English players of the time, all with international experience, and they comfortably took the top three places. In view of that, Khadilkar’s score of 4½/11 was respectable. He lost his first four games (perhaps still acclimatising to life in England?) but found his feet later on, managing to defeat, among others, R.H.V.Scott, who was British Champion in 1920. For a debut international tournament, Khadilkar had performed creditably. He was at his best in endgames, winning two oppositecoloured bishop positions in style; and this game finished with a punch: W.A.Fairhurst V.K.Khadilkar British Championship, Southport (11) 23rd August 1924

position after 45.♗b2-d4 45…e3 46.♗xe3 ♗d5+ 47.♗f3 ♖7xf3

and White resigned.

Chail 1925 The following year, a tournament back at home had perhaps even more significance for Indian chess. Each year, the Maharajah of Patiala, Sir Bhupinder Singh, hosted a chess tournament at his palace in Chail, near to Simla in the Himalayan foothills. In 1925 Borislav Kostic, a well-known Yugoslav master, participated and it was the Indians’ results against him that confirmed to Sir Umar, and others, that they would be able to hold their own in western tournaments. Kostic was a seasoned professional with a strong reputation. He had defeated Frank Marshall in a short match in Cologne in 1910, and began a peripatetic lifestyle from then on, living and playing in the USA for several years, before returning to Europe around 1920. His trip to India was part of a world tour between 1924-26 which also took him to China and Australia. He was noted for his blindfold simultaneous exhibitions. Kostic arrived in India in March 1925, first playing a tournament in Bombay that he won by a comfortable margin. Then, while on a sight-seeing tour of the country, he met the gregarious Sir Umar Hayat Khan, who hosted him for a couple of weeks in Delhi. Now the old boys’ network came into

play. Sir Umar was so impressed by Kostic that he urged his friend, the Maharajah of Patiala, to invite him to his tournament. Sir Umar and the Maharajah had much in common: they had both attended Aitchison College in Lahore, both served in the British army in World War I, were passionate about sport, and shared a love of motoring. It is said that the Maharajah would drive around in a motorcade of 20 Rolls Royces.12 When Kostic arrived for the tournament in Chail, he was told that the Maharajah was in the middle of celebrating the birth of his twenty-eighth son, with performances by singers and dancers from all over India every night for three weeks, and therefore the tournament would be postponed for eighteen days. (Incidentally, the Maharajah sired an estimated eighty-eight children from his five wives and numerous concubines.)

The only draw that Joshi dropped was in the last round against Kostic. This was a full fight, the advantage swinging to the Yugoslav in the early middlegame, the Indian staging a powerful counter-attack, and missing several chances to win. B.Kostic N.R.Joshi Chail 1925

position after 47.♔h4-h5

A chaotic position that later ended in a draw after 47…♘d3, but instead, 47…♕f1 would have won the game, e.g. 48.♕xg5 ♕xh3+ 49.♕h4 ♗f6 50.♕xh3 g6 mate. For Joshi and Kishan Lal to match Kostic was a clear indication that Indian players were ready to play internationally. Interestingly, although Joshi won the tournament, Kostic marked out Kishan Lal as the strongest Indian player, so it was perhaps no surprise that Sir Umar employed him as a coach when Sultan Khan came to his attention not long after. Kostic was so ashamed of his second place that he gave a false report to a newspaper claiming he had won.13 Given the momentum in Indian chess in the 1920s, it’s no wonder that Sir Umar was keen for Sultan Khan to make the transition from Indian to Western chess. To that end Sir Umar gathered a coterie of renowned Indian chess players (‘by paying them fat salaries’) with the specific aim of schooling Sultan in Western chess:14 Kishan Lal Sarda – the most distinguished – reckoned to be the strongest player in India in the 1920s; Gurubaksh Rai, chess master at the court of the Maharajah of Jammu and Kashmir; and the older Ramsukh Kaka – Rai’s guru.

They were colourful characters. Kishan Lal Sarda (1879-1934), given the nickname Chadrangwala (chess player) was by trade a buniya – a maker of Indian sweetmeats. Intriguingly, when Khadilkar played in the British Championship in 1924, The Times reported that he was one of the strongest players in India, ‘though it is an open question if he is better than Mr. Kissin [sic] Lal, whose caste prevents him from visiting this country.’ Born in Mathura, a city in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh between Delhi and Agra, his talent was spotted at an early age by a Bengali Doctor who took him to Calcutta where he soon acquired fame as a chess player. ‘Kishan was about 5 feet 6 inches tall, with pleasant features and had a dark bluish-black colour […] While playing he used to move his teeth in a round about fashion just like the lower jaw of a camel, so much so that by the time he was in his middle forties he had lost all his teeth!’ (Western Chess in British India by V.D. Pandit). It is said that Kishan Lal was the main influence on Sultan’s playing style, although with little evidence of his games, this is difficult to gauge. Western Chess in British India gives this description of his play: ‘[Kishan Lal] had a penchant for manoeuvring over the entire board. Though his knowledge of openings was scanty, his middle game play was simply superb. But it was in the end-game that he was a first-class master. As an end-game player amongst his contemporaries, he was unequalled.’ … and in this we can detect strong similarities to Sultan Khan. From the same source, there is reference to a particular opening system: ‘Kishan always opened with 1.e4 and very much favoured playing 2.c4 afterwards, setting up a sort of ‘Stonewall’ for White. He loved to keep a blocked pawn-centre and then to manoeuvre on both flanks. His favourite strategy was to form a block in the centre by pawns at c4, d3, e4, then castle king’s side, play h2-h3, ♘h2 and initiate a king’s side attack by f2-f4, all the while keeping an eye open for a possible

breakthrough on the queen’s side.’ Sultan Khan employed this set-up on more than one occasion: Sultan Khan E.E.Colman British Championship, Hastings (4) 3rd August 1933

position after 14.f4-f5

The other two sparring partners for Sultan Khan were both from the Punjab. Gurubaksh Rai (1890?-1960?) was from Lahore and was also a regular player in the strongest Indian tournaments of the 1920s. We know little about Ramsukh Kaka, except that he was born in 1861. There is a charming story about this pair from the All-India tournament in 1928: Gurubaksh Rai gave Ramsukh Kaka a walkover, deeming it inappropriate to beat someone he looked up to as his guru. Until the All-India Championship of 1928, we have no record of Sultan Khan’s games, and scant indication of how he progressed during his transition from Indian to Western rules. However, there is a vivid account of an idyllic scene described by a British army officer, Colonel William

Grenville Irvine-Fortescue, later a regular player in Scottish chess championships:15 ‘[…] in 1928, I found myself posted to Army Headquarters in Simla. Chess was flourishing in Simla, chiefly due to the patronage of an Indian nobleman, Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan. The Nawab himself was an indifferent player, but he was terribly keen, and maintained a team of professional chess players whose play, by constant practice, had reached a high standard. The leader of the team was Sultan Khan. […] Besides the “professionals” there was an active chess club, which met in the Y.M.C.A. Every Sunday afternoon we used to gather in the garden of the Nawab’s summer residence, where he entertained us with a sumptuous tea, and Indian music. How would the chess players of today, accustomed to the religious hush of a modern tournament, where the lowest whisper is silenced by a fierce “Shsss……!” react to such conditions? The music usually consisted of an instrument like a cross between an accordion and a very small harmonium. It sat on the ground. The musician squatted beside it, working a sort of bellows with one hand, and playing on a keyboard with the other. There were one or more drummers. And there was the vocalist. His huge mouth, reddened with “pon”, used to open to a quite incredible extent, and from it poured such a volume of sound that all other sense data faded from one’s field of perception. Then when at long last his apparently inexhaustible lungs emptied, the drums would rise to a wild frenzy of rattlings and thumpings, and the Nawab, in an ecstasy of his enjoyment, would rock to and fro to the compelling rhythm. But do not think there was no serious chess. Sultan would play one of his error-free games with “Master”, the next best “professional”. For 20 or 30 moves Master would find an answer to every one of Sultan’s tries, and then, slowly and inexorably, the position would change in Sultan’s favour, he would win a pawn, and all would be over. Some of the players used to get most excited. I remember one, who, in his eagerness to play a knight fork, swallowed the nut he was chewing. It stuck in his windpipe, he turned dark purple, and collapsed, together

with the table and the chess board. A hard slap on the back restored his breathing. Still purple and gasping, he struggled to his feet. “Set up the position, set up the position!”, he shouted – only when this had been done did he remember to thank his rescuers.’ These years when Sultan Khan was living in comfort, with few demands, with the instruction and companionship of fellow chess players, and the future prospect of putting his skills into practice – this must have been an exciting time.

CHAPTER 2

Indian Rules ‘Maat or Burji is no game, Pyadi, Untmalli is higher aim, Ghodmalli, Gajmalli still higher claim, Vajeeri wins the topmost fame!’ – types of checkmate in the Punjabi game How difficult would it have been for Sultan Khan to make the transition to Western chess? To judge that we need to go back and look at the rules of the game that he first learned. At this time in India there was no standardised form of the game, and Western chess was mainly played where there was the strongest colonial influence, in other words the big cities (the so-called ‘presidencies’) of Bombay, Delhi, Calcutta and Madras, by Europeans, or those that had received some kind of western education. Indian chess, in all its different varieties, was essentially a folk game, with knowledge passed on by word of mouth and by playing the game itself. There was no body of literature to facilitate proper scientific research. We can only guess at the exact type of game played by Sultan Khan, but the following rules, recorded in Indian Chess History (Aaron & Pandit 2014), are specific to the Punjab and were being played ‘during the 1960s and earlier’. With some variations, these are typical of the game played in many parts of the Indian subcontinent at the start of the 20th century – and earlier. These rules are a hybrid of the older Islamic game of Shatranj played in the Middle East from the 7th century and imported into India through centuries of Muslim influence, and the more dynamic European game with its longrange queen and bishop that was introduced to India with the arrival of the colonial nations after 1500. Here are the rules that are different from Western chess: • Pawns move forward only one square at a time. • Promotion: king and queen pawns promote to a queen. In other cases, a pawn is promoted to the piece according to file, i.e. promotion on a rook’s file results in a rook; on a knight’s file, a knight, etc.

• A promotion cannot result in three knights, two bishops of the same colour, three rooks, or two queens. • When the players are left with only two pieces each, a draw is automatically declared. This is called chau-mohri. • One point for a win, half a point for a draw, and three-quarters of a point for a half-win. A ‘half-win’ occurs when the defending side is left with a lone king. • There is no castling. However, once in a game, a king can move like a knight providing it has not been checked earlier. • At the start of the game the kings and queens do not stand opposite each other, i.e. white king on e1 and queen on d1; black queen e8, black king d8. This endgame study demonstrates the chau-mohri rule and what effect it would have on play:

Pundit Vishnu Datt 1950 White to play and win (Punjabi rules)

In Western chess the rook could simply capture the pawns followed by the inevitable mate with king and rook. But here 1.♖xa3 would leave each side with two pieces each and an immediate draw under the chau-mohri rule. White has to be more subtle and force a win by using the opposition. Here’s the main line:

1.♔b1 ♔g1 2.♔c1 ♔f1 3.♔d1 ♔g1 4.♔e1 ♔h1 5.♔f2 ♔h2 6.♔f3+ ♔g1 7.♔f4 ♔f1 8.♔e3 ♔g1 9.♔f3 ♔h1 10.♔g3 ♔g1 11.♖a1 checkmate.16 A simple study, but a demonstration of the practical difficulties with this version of the game. These rules are the basics. Remember, there was no official organisation to lay down the law from above, so that rules for games and tournaments were agreed on an ad hoc basis and could be far more complex. Perhaps the most notable of these variations was the concept of rewarding more difficult or rarer checkmates. For example, if you succeeded in checkmating with a pawn, or even better a rook’s pawn, you would earn bonus points. Your score might also depend on how much material your opponent still had on the board – the stronger his army, the greater your bonus. If queen, rook, bishop and knight have been captured and only the king and some pawns remain, the game is said to end in Burji (see rhyme above) and the opponent gets a point. Maat is a simple checkmate given by any piece other than a pawn. The winner is awarded two points. And the ultimate aim – Vajeeri: the loser is left with king and queen. The attacker has king, queen and one or two pawns. Checkmate with a pawn. The winner gets seven points. Rewarding artistry and risk in order to engineer such checkmates has a romantic appeal in our professional age.17 When Sultan Khan began with the new game in 1926 he would have had little or no knowledge of western opening theory: how could he when he first learned a version of the game in which pawns could only move a square at a time, the king and queen were in different positions, and there was no castling? That was evident from his first encounters in Europe where he frequently saddled himself with poor positions from the outset. Although Khan was provided with sparring partners who had experience of the European game, it should be remembered that, like him, they had all started playing with Indian rules, so they were hardly experts in opening theory. Besides, they had never played in tournaments outside India, which meant their opening knowledge was gleaned second-hand from European amateurs in India, perhaps from a few western books (though those openings could well have been out-moded), and games found in newspaper chess columns.

Gaining an overview of what was theoretically important in the opening would have been extremely difficult. The following comment from Tamannacharya Padsalgikar in his 1941 book, The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods, also identifies a fundamental gap in philosophy between the two different types of chess: ‘In Hindusthan, efforts were never made to study the game scientifically due to which the question of “who should move first?” was not given any importance. But the westerners gave the game a scientific outlook because of which to get the chance to move first was regarded as good as “gaining a move” (= initiative) against the opponent.’ Khan struggled with the concept of time in the opening, and frequently left his king lingering too long in the middle of the board. In the Indian game, with its gentle start of single pawn steps, time was less significant; but dawdling in the modern Western game could prove fatal. If you return to Khan’s simultaneous game against Capablanca, one of the first games that he played in Europe, the casualness with which he treats his most important piece is noteworthy. What of the endgame? The promotion rules would have radically changed the assessment of many positions. The drawing tendency would surely have been higher than in Western chess if one were unable to promote to a queen with the rook’s, knight’s or bishop’s pawn. Likewise, the chau-mohri rule (see above) would have meant that some fundamental endgame positions would have been unknown to Khan. Apart from the difficulties of playing a new version of the game, there were more humdrum but equally important practical considerations to playing tournament chess. In the West, certainly since the beginning of the 20th century, the Staunton design had become fairly standard in tournament play. In India there was no such uniformity. Not even the convention of white and black pieces, with White moving first. Here’s another passage from The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods that reveals a jaundiced view of their British rulers: ‘In Hindusthan, the pieces are painted any of the two colours from

yellow, red, green etc. and there is no preference for any colour. But in the west only white and black colours are used. As “racism” is deeply rooted in the minds of westerners they imagined that the “white side” (i.e. the side having the white pieces) shall move first and attack, and the “black side” shall move second and hence shall defend. As the Western style is now being adopted everywhere, it has become mandatory for the Hindusthani players also to adopt it.’ Playing with a time limit was a more serious practical difficulty for Indian players to overcome. In the Chail tournament of 1925, clocks were used, which was a novelty for most of the participants. It was often said that Sultan Khan moved quickly, only occasionally getting into time pressure; but one must also understand when to profitably invest time in the calculation of detailed variations. Here are more wise words on the subject from The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods: ‘Our players are not familiar with playing under a time limit. The Tournament Committee therefore finds it difficult to finish all the games by a certain date and is compelled to extend the tournament completion date. This compels many players to leave tournaments partway through because of want of holiday. That is why playing under a time limit has now become important and essential.’ That difference in tempo between Eastern and Western chess – and society – runs through the film The Chess Players (Shatranj Ke Khilari 1977), by Satyajit Ray, a seemingly gentle, but paradoxically savage, satire of the Raj and the last days of the Mughal Empire.18 The film is set in 1856, before the Indian uprising, and just before the British take over the province of Oudh and depose its king. In this scene, the eponymous chess players, Meer and Mirza, are interrupted at the start of their game by a visitor, Nandlal: NANDLAL: I see you’re playing the Indian way. MEER: What other way? NANDLAL: The British Way.

MIRZA: Don’t say the [East India] Company’s taken over chess, too. […] MIRZA: But why change the rules? NANDLAL: It’s a faster game. MIRZA: So they find our game too slow? MEER: Like our transport: now we’re to have railway trains, and the telegraph. NANDLAL: The telegraph is here already – and I don’t like it. MEER: Why not? NANDLAL: Bad news travels faster. (The Chess Players – Satyajit Ray) This scene (and much of the film) is a lament for an older and more traditional way of life, more contemplative and less urgent than the pragmatic and faster-paced new order of the colonial British, and that is beautifully exemplified by the differences in the modern European game of chess, with its more strident pawns, and the slower Indian game, more akin to the Islamic Shatranj of the Middle Ages and Mughal Empire. In reality, did Indians identify the Western game with their British occupiers and educators? And were they therefore reluctant to switch from the indigenous game? I have found no evidence of this. Indeed, the Indian game must have seemed increasingly parochial to many when compared with Western chess. Gauging opinion from English-language newspapers in the 1920s (admittedly with an educated readership) there is an impatience for India to take its place among the international chess community, very much reflecting the political Zeitgeist. The staunchly internationalist correspondent of The Hindu newspaper (Madras) is excited by the British Chess Federation’s announcement of an international team tournament to be held in London in 1927 and is eager that India should be represented: ‘We have excellent players in India, and there can be no doubt that if a chance is given to them they will acquit themselves creditably.’ But when no invitation is forthcoming, his frustration boils over:

‘In matters Chess as in matters politics, India doesn’t count, and she won’t be missed either. A very deplorable state of things indeed!’ The same global outlook, and more frustration, is evident in a letter published in The Times of India:19 ‘The first class chess players of India never meet for years together until some generous hearted Prince suddenly announces a Chess Tournament at a short notice so that there is not time for preparation and hence the performance of Indian Chess players lacks that finesse and polish which alone can popularise the game.’ Then we see the effect the Chail result had on national confidence: ‘… remember that it was an Indian, Mr Joshi of Poona who did better than Mr Kostich at the Chail Tournament. It is evident that there is no lack of good players, but what is required is encouragement and public sympathy. I appeal through your esteemed paper to all the lovers of the game to take this matter seriously so that it may not be an idle dream to send our Indian Chess Players to the West to compete in the International Chess Tournaments.’ For Sir Umar this was no idle dream. He had the means and the connections to get to the West – and in Sultan Khan he had found his champion.

CHAPTER 3

All-India Championship 1928 ‘When I arrived, the rajah’s polo ponies were lined up along the drive, his greyhounds and his hawkers with falcons on their wrists. A splendid scene. But inside the house a chess tournament was in progress, one of the contestants being Mir Sultan Khan… and the thoughts of the rajah (it was plain to see) were all on that tournament.’ – Sir John Simon Entering Colonel Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan’s household in 1926 would have brought Sultan Khan into a very different social world from Mitha Tiwana. With his membership of the Council of State (the Indian upper house), Sir Umar’s political activities took him to New Delhi, the capital of British India; and Simla, in the Himalayan foothills, the summer capital of the Raj where the British retreated during the oppressively hot summer months. Sir Umar had a large residence in Delhi and owned three properties in Simla, not to mention houses in Lahore and of course his residence on the Kalra estate. Sultan Khan’s first recorded tournament result is in the YMCA championship in Simla in 1926, where he came first, although we have no other details of his performance.20 Our next sighting of him is in the capital. On 15th April 1927 The Times of India reported on the Hardinge Library Knockout Tournament in Delhi, sponsored by Sir Umar, which attracted a record entry of 32 players. All the games were played at Sir Umar’s residence in New Delhi with the exception of the final that was held at the prestigious library itself. The story of the library provides a picture of the colonial world that Sultan Khan was being swept into, the fraught political situation of the time, and the swings in historical fortune that affected India over the 20th century. Founded in 1862, the library had moved to a new building in 1912. A plaque on the wall reads: ‘This building was erected by private subscription in grateful

recognition of the escape of their excellencies Lord and Lady Hardinge on the occasion of the bomb outrage at the state entry into Delhi on the 23rd of December 1912.’ The viceroy and his wife were riding on elephants as part of a grand procession when a bomb was thrown at them by a group of revolutionaries. They were both injured but survived; the mahout (elephant rider) died. The perpetrators were apprehended and executed. After Independence in 1947, a neat switch took place: the library’s name was changed from the Hardinge to the Hardayal Library after Lala Hardayal, an Indian nationalist revolutionary who was one of the agitators behind the protests and had publicly eulogised the bomb attack. Sultan Khan and Gurubaksh Rai met in the final which ‘Sultan won in two straight games; and was awarded the silver knight presented by the Library. Gurubaksh also received a prize.’ (The Times of India) For Sultan Khan to beat one of his trainers must have been sweet. Whether his victory created tension between him and his sparring partners is unknown, though Khan was always very respectful of his peers and elders. Sir Umar must have felt that his protégé was ready for the next big challenge, and it was solely through his initiative that an All-India Championship took place early in 1928, the first since the famous Chail tournament in 1925. Once again he acted as host and the tournament was held at his residence in New Delhi. This would be a pivotal moment in Khan’s career, not least for his result on the chessboard, but also for a meeting that Sir Umar engineered with a highly influential member of the British government. Sir Umar was part of a reception committee representing the Indian legislature that welcomed a British parliamentary commission to the government chambers.21 In the face of growing unrest and calls for independence, a commission had been formed of members of the British Houses of Parliament that was given the task of reviewing the structures of governance in India. From the outset the commission provoked controversy as there was not a single Indian included among the seven members. Wherever they travelled in India they were met with protesters and instead of mollifying Indian opinion, the commission actually fuelled the nationalist movement.22

Protestors demanding that Sir John Simon’s Commission leaves India.

The leader of the commission was Sir John Simon, a liberal MP and, by chance, a keen chess player. Sir Umar was not one to hide in the background and, through this first meeting, it must have transpired that they shared a common interest. An invitation was extended to Sir John to visit the national Championship that was to begin a few days later. In the first two rounds Sultan Khan faced his sparring partners, first Gurubaksh Rai and then Ramsukh Kaka. I doubt whether this was coincidence: playing together in the early rounds would put all concerned above the charge of possible collusion if they had played near the end of the tournament. These are the first recorded games of Sultan Khan still in existence. They are uneven in quality, but we get an insight into the kind of chess that he and his trainers had been studying, and a glimpse of the player he would become. Sultan Khan Gurubaksh Rai All-India Championship, Delhi (1) 11th February 1928 1.e4 e5 2.d4 exd4 3.♕xd4

Even in the era that this game was played, this unsophisticated system was a rarity in top-level games in Europe. The opening has the merit of being straightforward: by making a pawn break in the centre White secures free development for his bishops, and the centre pawn also gives him a slight space advantage. The downside is that Black can gain time by attacking the queen. Over time it was discovered that, from White’s viewpoint, the negatives out-weighed the positives. 3…♘c6 4.♕e3 d6

Instead, 4…♘f6 5.♘c3 ♗b4 followed by castling rapidly is the way to go and Black stands well. 5.♗e2 ♗e7 6.♘f3 ♘f6 7.0-0 0-0 8.h3 h6 9.♘c3 ♗e6 10.b3 ♘h7 11.♗b2 ♗f6 12.♖ad1 a6 13.♘h2 ♖e8 14.f4

Sultan Khan has been allowed to set up a strong pawn centre, and Black is pressed in behind the first three ranks. White should play to maintain the space advantage; Black should try to break free. Over the next few moves neither side plays particularly accurately but, in the end, Black loses patience and Khan wins easily. 14…♗d7 15.a3 ♖c8 16.♔h1 ♕e7 17.♗f3 ♗xc3 18.♗xc3 ♘f6 19.♖fe1 ♖cd8 20.♕f2 ♗e6 21.g4

Controlling the centre allows White to launch an attack against the enemy king. The thrust is powerful but Black panics, giving away a piece, and the rest is simple:

21…d5? 22.♗xf6 ♕xf6 23.exd5 ♕xf4 24.dxc6 bxc6 25.♔g2 ♖d6 26.♕g3 ♕xg3+ 27.♔xg3 ♖ed8 28.♖xd6 ♖xd6 29.♖d1 ♗d5 30.c4 ♗xf3 31.♖xd6 cxd6 32.♘xf3 d5 33.c5 1-0

This was a tricky first round to negotiate: Khan can’t have found it easy playing against his more senior sparring partner. Gurubaksh had proved his worth at the Hardinge Library Knockout tournament the year before by winning through to the final. He was also a relatively young man (born in 1890), older than Khan, but still aged in his thirties. During round two, Sir John Simon visited the championship along with one of his colleagues on the commission. Later he was to recall: ‘When I arrived, the rajah’s [he means Sir Umar’s] polo ponies were lined up along the drive, his greyhounds and his hawkers with falcons on their wrists. A splendid scene. But inside the house a chess tournament was in progress, one of the contestants being Mir Sultan Khan… and the thoughts of the rajah (it was plain to see) were all on that tournament.’23 The Times of India, 13th February 1929, reported on the visit: ‘Sir John and his colleague were deeply impressed with the standard of play in India. Sir John, who is himself a renowned chess player of England, later played a game with Sir Umar Hayat. It was a long drawn out match evenly contested throughout. They were playing for more than two hours when dinner time intervened and seeing Sir John leading, Sir Umar Hayat withdrew, leaving the President of the Statutory Commission victorious. On the termination of the game, Sir John remarked: “There is one thing common between East and West and that is a game of chess.” Before the Commissioners departed for the Western Hostel, Sir Umar Hayat Khan assured them that the martial classes throughout India would co-operate with the Statutory Commission.’ How strong a chess player was Sir John Simon? Having seen some of his

games, ‘decent club player’ would probably be the best description. He played for the House of Commons team in occasional matches, for the Reform Club in the Hamilton-Russell Cup (a league of exclusive London clubs that is still thriving), and the National Liberal Club on other occasions. He was not capable of holding his own against the best players, but he demonstrated a keen interest in the game and was knowledgeable about its history and culture, frequently impressing with a witty address at the opening of chess events. Apart from sharing an interest in chess, Sir John and Sir Umar recognised in each other a useful ally. The last line of the newspaper report, in which Sir Umar spoke for ‘the martial classes’, refers to the tribal classification that the British had made after the 1857 uprising. The British army took prevailing social-Darwinist theories and with a broad and arbitrary flick of the pen labelled certain castes and tribes as physically and mentally suited for fighting. The majority of recruits for the British/Indian army came from these tribes; and most of these tribes were located in Northern India. ‘The Martial Race theory had an elegant symmetry. Indians who were intelligent and educated were defined as cowards, while those defined as brave were uneducated and backward.’ (The Imperial Reserve: the Indian Corps on the Western Front, 1914-15 by Jeffrey Greenhut, 1983)24 As chief of the Tiwana Lancers, the barrel-chested Sir Umar stood squarely behind this policy. He had already proved an excellent recruiting sergeant in the First World War for the British, and it goes without saying that they needed to keep such influential nobility on side. A question arises from this meeting. At what point did it occur to both parties to test Sultan Khan’s chess skills in Europe? Judging by Sir John’s description of the tournament, I suspect this was when Sir Umar’s dream of bringing Sultan Khan to England became more real. That evening, Sir John would have witnessed a strong performance from Sir Umar’s protégé. Ramsukh Kaka Sultan Khan

All-India Championship, Delhi (2) 12th February 1928 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 d5

A solid and unpretentious Queen’s Gambit Declined from Khan. 4.♗g5 ♘bd7 5.cxd5 exd5 6.♘f3 c6 7.e3 ♗d6 8.♗d3 0-0 9.0-0 ♖e8 10.♖c1 ♘f8 11.a3 ♗g4 12.h3 ♗d7 13.e4 dxe4 14.♗xf6 ♕xf6 15.♘xe4 ♕f4 16.♘xd6 ♕xd6 17.♗c4 ♗e6 18.♕b3 ♖e7 19.♖c3 ♖d8

Khan’s play in the first game of the tournament was uneven, but here he

demonstrates text-book positional chess, his pieces working together harmoniously, preparing to gang up on White’s isolated queen’s pawn. 20.♖fc1 ♗xc4 21.♕xc4 ♘e6 22.♖e3 ♘f4 23.♖ce1 ♖xe3 24.fxe3 ♘xh3+ 25.♔h1 ♘f2+ 26.♔g1

Black is a pawn up, but the game is a long way from concluding. Khan’s choice here reveals his sensibilities. He could have played 26…♘g4, with a favourable if complicated middlegame, but instead prefers to maintain a blockade and heads for an endgame. 26…♘e4 27.♘e5 ♕d5 28.♕xd5 ♖xd5 29.b4 f6 30.♘d3 b6 31.♖c1 ♖d6 32.♔f1 ♔f7 33.♔e2 g5 34.g4 ♔e6 35.a4 a6

The pawn moves 30…b6 and 33…g5 restricted White’s knight but have created weaknesses in Black’s structure. White should be able to draw but, perhaps tired by a long game, Khan’s elderly opponent cracks. 36.♔f3 f5 37.a5 is correct, with excellent drawing chances. 36.♘f2 ♘xf2 37.♔xf2 f5 38.gxf5+

38.♖h1 is stronger. 38…♔xf5 39.a5 bxa5 40.♖c5+ ♖d5 41.♖xc6 axb4 42.♖xa6 ♖b5 43.♖a2 b3 44.♖b2 ♔e4 45.♔e2 g4

White resigned.

The final position is, at last, convincing. In the middlegame Khan demonstrated excellent positional chess, his pieces finding exactly the right squares. The endgame was less well played, and his opponent could have put up more resistance, but justice was done in the end. Sir John Simon should have been impressed. Sultan Khan’s round three game was a complete contrast. He faced V.N.Gadre, whose ‘attacking style of play was fuelled by original ideas and resulted in spectacular games. An optimist, he was unperturbed when defending a losing game. His cheerful nature was infectious and was conducive to a good atmosphere in tournaments that he played in.’ When playing he talked a lot and sang songs to keep everyone amused and, to complete the eccentric picture, he sported a long curving moustache and smoked Bidis (cheap, often homemade, cigarettes).25

If Khan’s game in round 2 could easily have been from a contemporary European tournament, his performance in round 3 lurched back into the 19th century. Sultan Khan V.N.Gadre All-India Championship, Delhi (3) 13th February 1928 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.d4 exd4 4.♗c4 ♗c5 5.♘g5?!

One wonders whether Khan had been exposed to a very limited, and very old, chess literature and was simply reproducing what he had seen without too much reflection. This reckless sortie had once been played (successfully) by John Cochrane (a stalwart of the Calcutta club in the 1840s and 50s) but discredited not long after. Throughout his career, Sultan Khan’s openings were sometimes good, more often insipid, and occasionally dubious; but this is particularly bad.

5…♘h6

The best move. Instead, 5…♘e5 6.♗xf7+ ♘xf7 7.♘xf7 ♗b4+ 8.c3 dxc3 9.bxc3 ♗xc3+ 10.♘xc3 ♔xf7 11.♕d5+ ♔f8 12.♗a3+ d6 13.e5 gave White a winning position in Cochrane-Deschapelles, Paris 1821. 6.♘xf7 ♘xf7 7.♗xf7+ ♔xf7 8.♕h5+ g6 9.♕xc5 d5

Paul Morphy had played the more solid 9…d6 with success in 1855, but this move takes advantage of White’s poor king position and speeds up Black’s development. 10.exd5?

Khan’s carelessness with his king in the opening is already becoming a familiar trope. Castling is necessary: 10.0-0! dxe4 11.♗f4 ♖e8 12.c3 d3 13.♘d2 (Pap-Godena, Budva 2009). Black still has the better chances, but White has managed to secure a decent blockade of the central pawns and there is plenty of play in the position. 10…♖e8+ 11.♔d1

11.♔f1 would be no better: 11…b6 12.♕c4 ♘e5 13.♕xd4 ♘f3 14.♕f4+ ♕f6 15.g4 ♖e1+ 16.♔g2 ♘h4+ 17.♔g3 ♖xh1 18.♕xc7+ ♔g8 19.♕c6 ♖g1+ 20.♔h3 ♗xg4 checkmate, Baymetov-Adhiban, Tashkent 2007. A brutal attack from a rising Indian star of the 21st century, Adhiban Baskaran. 11…♖e5 12.c4 ♕h4 13.♕a3 ♗g4+

An excellent move. Black avoids the endgame that would arise after 13… ♕xf2 14.♕f3+ ♕xf3+ 15.gxf3. He wants more. 14.f3 ♕f2 15.♗d2 ♕e2+ 16.♔c1 ♕xc4+ 17.♘c3 dxc3 18.♕xc3 ♕xd5 19.fxg4 ♕xg2 20.♕c4+ ♔e7 21.♖f1 ♖e8 22.♖f7+ ♔d8 23.♔c2

23…♖e4?

A fatal error. Instead, there are several winning moves. For example, 23…b6 or 23…b5, but if Black is too lazy to calculate and wanted a routine way forward, then 23…♖d5 is appealing: 24.♖d1 ♔c8, followed by …♖ed8. White will never escape from the pin and the queen can collect more pawns on the kingside. 24.♕d5+ 1-0

It’s mate in three. Khan’s concentration pulled him through at the end, but this was a fortunate victory and certainly his worst game of the tournament. His round 4 game was a rich strategic struggle against the grand old man of Indian chess, Morbhat Mehendale. Born in 1870,26 he won his very first tournament with Western rules, the All-India Championship of 1909, and for good measure repeated his success the following year. He schooled Joshi and Khadilkar, two of India’s leading players of the 1920s and, years later, when Sultan Khan visited Sangli in 1935, ‘… he lovingly shook hands with Morbhatji and showed utmost respect to him as anybody would show to his Guru’.27 A Guru of Indian chess he might have been, but the 1928 All-India Championship was not his finest hour: he finished in joint last place with 2½/9. Nevertheless, the encounter with Sultan Khan was a titanic struggle. Mehendale held his own for the first forty moves, then one suspects that his

stamina gave out. Khan had embarked on an over-arching and ambitious strategic plan which finally paid off, but a closer look shows that both players made serious mistakes. There were times in the game when they might have been playing blitz, such were the changing fortunes. The contrast between this long strategic endgame and the 19th century dice-throwing of the previous round’s encounter are marked. For all the errors, Khan’s play here is far more like his best games of later years – in style, if not accuracy. Sultan Khan Morbhat Mehendale All-India Championship, Delhi (4) 14th February 1928 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.d4 ♘xd4 4.♘xe5 ♘c6 5.♘xc6 dxc6 6.♕xd8+ ♔xd8 7.♗c4 ♗e6 8.♗xe6 fxe6 9.♗f4 ♘f6 10.♗g5

Khan happily accepts the invitation to enter the endgame. Moving the bishop again to exchange off into a knight-versus-bishop endgame is a bold strategic decision, and his strategy in the remainder of the game, despite the inaccuracies, has a clear goal: White seeks to restrict the bishop and finally realise his kingside pawn majority. 10…♗e7 11.♗xf6 ♗xf6 12.c3 ♔e7 13.♘d2 g6 14.♔e2 a5 15.f4 ♖hf8 16.♖af1 a4 17.a3 ♖a5 18.e5 ♗g7 19.h4 ♖b5

The bishop has been restricted but Khan has underestimated the rook’s counter-attack on the queenside. Defending the b-pawn is problematic: 20.♖b1 ♖xf4, or 20.♘c4 ♖c5 21.♘d2 ♖b5 and a further repetition will result in a draw. Instead Khan sacrifices a pawn in order to maintain his bind. 20.g3 ♖xb2 21.♖b1 ♖xb1 22.♖xb1 b6 23.♘e4 c5 24.c4

White is a pawn down, but he has a good grip on the position. The knight is clearly superior to the bishop. 24…h6 25.♘c3 g5

Black has to try to improve the bishop’s prospects. Waiting passively would be perilous: 25…♖a8 26.♖d1 ♗h8 27.♘b5 ♖c8 28.♘a7 ♖a8 29.♘c6+

♔e8 30.♔f3. White edges forward inexorably. 26.♔e3 gxh4 27.g4

Keeping the bishop locked in is strategically consistent, but highly risky. 27.gxh4 h5 28.♖g1 ♗h6 29.♘e2 ♔f7 30.♖d1 ♔e7 31.♖g1 ♔f7 32.♖d1 would lead to a draw. 27…h3 28.♖h1 ♖d8 29.♘b5 c6 30.♘d6 b5 31.♖xh3 b4

The situation is critical. Black threatens to sacrifice rook for knight to liberate the bishop.

32.♘b7 ♖d4 33.♘xc5 ♖xc4 34.axb4 ♖xb4 35.♖h2 ♖c4 36.♘d3 ♔f7 37.♖b2 ♗f8 38.♖b7+ ♔g6 39.f5+

The kingside pawn majority comes good, but Black has enough play to hold the balance. 39…exf5 40.gxf5+ ♔g5 41.f6 a3 42.♖b8 ♔f5?

42…a2 43.♖a8 ♖c2 44.e6 ♔xf6 45.♖xf8+ ♔xe6 46.♖a8 will end in a draw.

43.♖a8?

Up until move forty, play has not been perfect, but the strategic direction has been understandable and logical. In this last phase of the game the quality of play deteriorates sharply. The time control in the tournament has not been recorded, but I sense that moves were being made at lightning speed – with inevitable mistakes. Here Khan misses a win with 43.♖xf8 ♖a4 44.♖e8 a2 45.f7. 43…a2 44.♖xa2 ♖e4+ 45.♔f3 h5 46.♖a8 ♗h6 47.♖h8 ♖e3+ 48.♔f2 ♔g6?

Instead 48…♖xd3 49.♖xh6 ♔xe5 50.f7 ♖d8 is a draw. 49.♖g8+?

49.♖xh6+ ♔xh6 50.♔xe3 wins. 49…♔f7 50.♖h8 ♖xd3 51.♖xh6 ♔e6 52.♖h8 ♖d7 53.♖e8+ ♔f7 54.♖c8 ♔e6 55.♖e8+ ♔f7 56.♖h8 ♔e6 57.♖xh5 c5 58.♔e3 ♖d8 59.♖g5 ♖d5 60.♖h5 ♖d1 61.♖g5 ♖d8 62.♔e4 ♖d4+ 63.♔f3 ♖d8 64.♖h5 ♖d1 65.♖h2

65…♖d5?

65…♔xe5 66.f7 ♖d8 67.♖e2+ ♔f6 68.♖e8 ♖d3+ 69.♔e2 ♔xf7 would have forced the draw. 66.♖e2 ♖d4 67.♖e4 ♖d8 68.♔f4 ♖h8 69.♔g3 ♖b8

69…c4 is still good enough to draw. 70.♔f4 ♔f7 71.♖c4 ♖c8 72.♔g5 ♔e6 73.♔f4 ♖c7 74.♔e4 ♖c8 75.♖a4 c4 76.♖a7 ♖e8 77.♖c7 1-0

The c-pawn drops. In round 5 Khan faced the only non-Indian in the tournament. Noel Roughton was an English amateur, but certainly no pushover. He captained the Oxford University chess team in Varsity matches and was top board for the combined Oxford and Cambridge team that played a cable match against an American universities team, winning his game. After leaving university he joined the Indian Civil Service, but kept an active interest in chess, playing in congresses in England whenever he had leave. He and Sultan Khan contested many games together28 (although this is the only one that is recorded) and that must have been a valuable experience for Khan: even if Roughton did not possess the same talent, his style of chess would have offered an insight into the European game. He was also an important entrée into English chess circles. While Sir John Simon had political clout, Roughton had direct contact with officials and players, and it was mainly through his representations to the British Chess Federation that Sultan Khan was selected to play in the British Championship in 1929. As a

recognised player, he would have been able to judge Khan’s abilities, and his opinion must have carried weight. Sultan Khan N.J.Roughton All-India Championship, Delhi (5) 15th February 1928 1.d4 d5 2.c4 c6 3.cxd5 cxd5 4.♘c3 ♘f6 5.♗f4 ♘c6 6.e3 e6 7.♘f3 ♗d6 8.♗g3 ♘e4

All Roughton’s games in the tournament were decisive, and it is possible that his uncompromising style induced Khan to adopt a solid opening strategy. The early exchange of pawns is sound and unpretentious, if a bit dull, and a complete contrast to his reckless round 3 game versus Gadre. Against a player like Roughton, used to an open game and ‘having a go’, it is perhaps not a bad idea. The knight lunge already reveals something about the Englishman’s style: he is inclined to go forward. The jump is a little premature, but Khan does not attempt to punish it, merely completing his development to reach a comfortable position. 9.♘xe4 dxe4 10.♘d2 f5 11.♗xd6 ♕xd6 12.♗c4 0-0 13.a3 ♗d7 14.0-0 ♘e7 15.f3 ♘d5 16.♕b3 exf3 17.♘xf3 ♘b6 18.♘e5 ♘xc4 19.♕xc4 ♖fc8?

19…♖ac8 is fine and the position is roughly level. 20.♕b3 ♖c7 21.♖xf5

Winning a pawn and effectively the game. Roughton blustered on, but Khan handled the aggression comfortably and won in 38 moves. His performance was nothing more than competent, though perhaps that was ideal strategy against the belligerent Roughton. In round 6 Khan produced a consummate positional performance. His understanding of the French fixed pawn structure is superb. Manzur Hassan Sultan Khan All-India Championship, Delhi (6) 16th February 1928 1.e4 e6 2.♘f3 d5 3.e5 c5 4.♗e2 ♘c6 5.0-0 ♗d7 6.c3 ♖c8 7.d4 ♕b6 8.b3 cxd4 9.cxd4 ♘ge7 10.♘a3 ♘f5 11.♘c2 h5

Classic French strategy to secure the knight on f5. 12.♗f4 ♗e7 13.♕d2 ♖g8

Playing to advance the g-pawn, attacking the knight on f3, undermining the support for the pawn on d4. Viktor Kortchnoi, one of the greatest exponents of the French, was fond of this idea. 14.♖ad1

As the rook supports the d-pawn, 14…g5 doesn’t have the desired effect: 15.♘xg5 ♘cxd4 16.♘xd4 ♕xd4 17.♕xd4 ♘xd4 18.♖xd4 ♗xg5 19.♗xg5 ♖xg5 20.f4 ♖g8 21.♗xh5 wins a pawn. Instead, with the queen’s rook

moving into the middle, Sultan Khan switches to an operation on the queenside. 14…♘b4 15.♘xb4 ♗xb4 16.♕b2 ♗c3 17.♕b1 ♗b5

Following correct positional procedure by exchanging off the ‘bad’ bishop. 18.♗xb5+ ♕xb5 19.♖c1 ♔d7!

Khan’s insouciance when dealing with his king sometimes led to disaster, but sometimes, as here, his judgment was absolutely correct. The king stands securely in the middle of the board as the pawn structure is locked. For White, guarding the pawn on d4 while simultaneously preventing an invasion down the c-file presents difficulties.

20.♖fd1 ♖c6 21.a4 ♕b6 22.♗e3 ♖gc8 23.h3 h4! 24.♔h2 ♕b4 25.♕a2 a5 26.♔h1 ♕b6 27.♔g1? ♗b4?

Missing a tactical shot: 27…♘xe3 28.fxe3 ♗xd4! 29.♖xc6 ♗xe3+ 30.♔h1 ♖xc6 31.♘xh4 ♖c3 with an extra pawn and a winning position. Instead, the game continues on its natural strategic course. 28.♖xc6 bxc6 29.♕c2 c5

Now White does best to play 30.♕d3, although Black maintains the upper hand with 30…c4 31.bxc4 ♖xc4. There are two targets, the a4 and d4 pawns, and the rook can sometimes invade on the c-file. There is nothing immediate in sight, but it’s an unpleasant position to defend. Instead, as is so often the case when one side is under sustained pressure, White cracks and allows a tactic. 30.♖c1? ♗a3 31.dxc5 ♘xe3! 32.♕e2 ♗xc5 33.♖xc5 ♖xc5 34.fxe3 ♕xb3 35.♘d4 ♖c1+ 36.♔f2 ♕c4

White resigned. An excellent positional victory, though somewhat tarnished by the tactical oversight. V.K.Khadilkar Sultan Khan All-India Championship, Delhi (7) 17th February 1928

This game was always going to be one of Khan’s sternest challenges. Born in 1882, Khadilkar had won the All-India Championship in 1911, and was the first Indian to play in the British Championship in 1924 (see Chapter 1). Like most, if not all, of the top Indian players, he first learned to play the Indian game but had switched to Western chess in 1907 and was said to be a diligent student of the game. 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 d5 3.♘f3 e6 4.♘c3 b6 5.♗g5 ♗b7

Sultan Khan employed fianchetto openings throughout his career, an opening strategy that was in his blood. Under the Indian rules of the game, pawns were only permitted to advance one square; therefore, playing the bishop to the long diagonal was one of the quickest, and safest, ways to influence the centre. Indian players then transferred the idea to the Western game.29 In Europe, the fianchetto (little flank advance) was first recorded in Italy in the 17th century, but it went against the prevailing wisdom of 19th century chess where immediately occupying the centre with pawns was de rigueur. Nevertheless, the ‘Indian’ openings were to have a profound influence on the development of modern chess strategy. British players in the subcontinent noted the popularity of the fianchetto and word spread back to Europe via publications such as The Chess Player’s Chronicle, edited by Howard Staunton, England’s greatest player of the 19th century. Staunton had been a classical 1.e4 and 1.d4 player early on in his career, but by the 1840s he was experimenting with 1.c4 (later known as the English

Opening), often combining it with a queenside and/or kingside fianchetto. Could he have been influenced from the East? In the early part of the 20th century, players in the Hypermodern movement took on the fianchetto enthusiastically and those openings were dubbed as Indian defences (King’s Indian, Queen’s Indian, Nimzo-Indian, Grünfeld Indian, etc.) 6.cxd5 exd5 7.e3 ♗e7 8.♖c1

The game has transposed into a fairly standard Queen’s Indian position. Castling is the normal move, but Khan has a penchant for the advance of his queenside pawn majority (see his game against Capablanca in the introduction). 8…a6 9.♗d3 0-0 10.0-0 c5 11.♘e5 ♘c6

12.♗xf6

Khadilkar wants to avoid any possibility of Black’s knight leaping in to the e4-square but giving up the bishop for the knight is incorrect. 12.♗b1 is more critical, protecting the d-pawn: 12…♖c8 13.f4! (the socalled Pillsbury attacking formation) 13…cxd4 14.exd4 b5, though Black does have counterplay. 12…♗xf6 13.f4

This version of the Pillsbury Attack isn’t effective as it is difficult to advance the f-pawn again with the bishop standing on f6. 13…g6 14.♘e2

White is intent on a kingside attack, but 14.♗e2 followed by ♗f3 to target

the d5-pawn still held the balance. 14…♖c8 15.♘xc6 ♖xc6 16.f5 ♕e7 17.♖f3 ♗g5 18.♘f4 ♗xf4

A practical move. By exchanging, Khan keeps the position as simple as possible and maintains some advantage, but objectively 18…cxd4 was much stronger: 19.fxg6 hxg6 20.♖xc6 ♗xc6 21.exd4 (21.♕c2 ♕d6 holds everything) 21…♕b4 with great pressure. 19.exf4 ♕f6 20.♕e2?

Instead 20.dxc5 bxc5 21.fxg6 hxg6 22.♗f1 ♖c7 still feels better for Black because of the centre pawns, but White is well coordinated so should hold the position. 20…♕xd4+ 21.♔h1 ♗c8 22.♖d1 ♕f6 23.fxg6 fxg6 24.f5

The pawn could now be captured: 24…gxf5 25.♖df1 ♖e6! 26.♕f2 ♖e5! holds the extra pawns; but Khan’s move is positionally attractive. 24…g5

Once again avoiding complications. The pawn move blocks out White’s pieces. 25.♖df1 c4 26.♗b1 ♖c7

Khan plays to restrict White’s pieces rather than roll his pawns down the board. 27.♖g3 h6 28.h4 ♖g7 29.hxg5 ♖xg5 30.♖ff3 ♗d7 31.♕d2 ♗c6

31…d4 is stronger, though it does allow more activity – and therefore Khan rejects it. 32.♖xg5+ hxg5 33.♖g3?

White is lured by the g-pawn. Instead 33.♖e3! ♖e8 34.♖xe8+ ♗xe8 35.♕xd5+ ♗f7 36.♕d2 a5 should be a draw, though Black can still push for more. 33…♔f7 34.♕xg5 ♕xg5 35.♖xg5 ♖e8

The strategy of restricting White’s bishop by advancing the queenside pawns pays off. The bishop cannot be saved from the marauding rook. 36.♖g6 ♗d7 37.♖d6 ♖e1+ 38.♔h2 ♔e7 39.♖xd5 ♖xb1 40.f6+ ♔e6 41.♖f5 ♔f7 42.♖f2 ♖d1 43.♖f4 ♗e6 44.g4 ♖d2+ 45.♔g3 ♖xb2 46.g5 ♖b5 47.♔h4 c3 48.♔h5 c2 49.♖f1 ♖b1 50.g6+ ♔e8 51.f7+ ♗xf7 0-1

Khan played with a grand strategic plan: the advance of the queenside pawns and the restriction of White’s bishop, which, having subdued White’s kingside play, succeeded beautifully. There were a few occasions where objectively he did not always select the strongest move; he showed a disinclination to move away from his set strategic path, particularly if it allowed his opponent piece activity. Khadilkar missed a few chances to level the game, but he was always on the back foot after the strategic misjudgment 12.♗xf6, exchanging off one of his precious bishops. Sultan Khan N.R.Joshi All-India Championship, Delhi (8) 18th February 1928

This should have been one of the games of the tournament. Joshi’s sensational victory in Chail in 1925 had given him heroic status and inspired the Indian chess scene. Was this really the same player? Khan reverts to the Centre Game and Joshi improvises – disastrously. 1.e4 e5 2.d4 exd4 3.♕xd4 a6? 4.♗c4 ♘e7? 5.♘f3 c5? 6.♕xc5 d6 7.♕e3 h6 8.♕b3 ♕a5+ 9.♗d2 ♕h5 10.♘c3 ♘bc6 11.♘e2 g5 12.♗c3 ♖h7 13.0-0-0 ♕g4 14.♘g3 b5 15.♗d5 ♗d7 16.♔b1 b4 17.h3 ♕f4 18.♘h5 ♘xd5 19.♕xd5

Black’s queen is lost, among other problems. 19…bxc3 20.♘xf4 gxf4 21.e5 ♖b8 22.b3 ♖g7 23.exd6 ♖xg2 24.♖he1+ ♔d8 25.♘e5 1-0

Horrible. Going into the last round Khan had a 100% score and had already won the tournament; his opponent, S.V.Bodas, was in second place. A stalwart of the Indian chess scene, he had the habit of pouring water over his head to cool off in the middle of the game. It’s not clear whether he performed this at the board or away from it.30 Instead of the Centre Game, Khan played a Spanish which transposed into the solid Four Knights Opening. Sultan Khan S.V.Bodas All-India Championship, Delhi (9)

19th February 1928 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.♗b5 ♘f6 4.♘c3 ♗b4 5.0-0 0-0 6.d3 ♗xc3 7.bxc3 d5

A line that is virtually unknown in modern chess, but was a speciality of Frank Marshall’s in the early part of the 20th century. Proving an advantage against it is difficult, and Khan gets nothing from the opening. In the end he finds sufficient activity to draw the game. 8.♗xc6 bxc6 9.♘xe5 dxe4 10.♘xc6 ♕d6 11.♘d4 c5 12.♘e2 ♗a6 13.c4 ♖fd8 14.♗f4 ♕e6 15.♗d2 exd3 16.cxd3 ♗xc4 17.dxc4 ♘e4 18.♘f4 ♕a6 19.♕e2 ♘xd2 20.♖fc1 ♖d4 21.♖e1 ♖f8 22.♖ad1 ♕xc4 23.♖xd2 ♕xe2 24.♖exe2 ♖xf4 25.♖d7 ♖c4 26.g3 a5 27.♖c7 g6 28.♖e5 ♖a4 29.♖cxc5 ♖xa2 30.♖xa5 ♖xa5 31.♖xa5 ♖b8 32.g4 ♔g7 33.♔g2 ♖b3 34.f3 h6 35.h4 ♖b2+ 36.♔g3 ♖b4 37.♖c5 ♖a4 38.♖d5 ♖b4 39.♖e5 ♔f6 40.f4 ♖b3+ 41.♔g2 ♖a3 42.♖b5 ♖a2+ 43.♔f3 ♖a3+ 44.♔e2 ½-½

An anti-climactic finish to the event. One peculiarity of this tournament: Sultan Khan received six whites and only three blacks. How did that happen? Were they drawing for colours at the start of each game?

Khan’s standard of play was clearly superior to the rest of the field, yet very uneven. His openings were often dubious, particularly with white. In the middlegame he demonstrated some sophisticated positional ideas, with a tendency to restrict his opponents’ plans before playing actively himself. In seeking to keep the game under control, he occasionally overlooked powerful tactical hits. He showed a penchant for endgames, even if his technique wasn’t always optimal. Not a perfect display, but let’s concentrate on the result alone: 8½/9 is, in any tournament, a tremendous score. He took on the most senior Indian players and crushed them.31 After such a triumph, where next? There could only be one destination.

PART II

England

CHAPTER 4

A Passage to England ‘… I have come to this country with a special mission to place before the British statesmen and public the views of a large section of the martial races whom I represent.’ – Sir Umar Hayat Khan Later in 1928, and early in 1929, Sultan Khan won several smaller tournaments, in Simla and then Delhi, underlining that he was ready for a bigger stage. In the last of these, in March 1929, Sir Umar’s flair for the dramatic did not let him down as he awarded the prizes at the Delhi Railway Station, en route to Bombay and London. He announced that his intention was to ‘make Sultan Khan play against the leading chess players in England and if possible, on the continent.’32 Introducing Sultan Khan to the rest of the world was not the chief purpose of Sir Umar’s visit to England. He was on a diplomatic mission to promote the interests of the ‘martial classes’ (who supplied the majority of troops to the Indian army) and those of the Muslim community in India as a whole. Considering Sir Umar’s position in society – a member of the Indian upper house, Colonel in the Indian army, and powerful landowner – one might imagine that he held a secure position, but he could sense the tide of history turning against him and those he represented. In the early part of the 20th century Muslim nations all over the world were under attack from the Great Powers of Europe, their religion marginalised and its faithful persecuted. In 1911 France had assumed control over Morocco, and Italy took over Libya. After World War I the Ottoman Empire collapsed and the Caliphate in Istanbul dissolved. The Balfour Declaration of 1917 demanded a homeland for the Jews in Palestine, creating a massive upheaval for the indigenous (mainly Muslim) population. The Treaty of Sèvres in 1920 legitimised a carve-up of the Middle East between Britain and France who ruled the

countries as colonies. Russia, and then the Soviet Union, subjugated Muslim opposition in their southern provinces. Opinion in the West was pro-Christian, anti-Turk and often anti-Muslim. On first entering Jerusalem, General Allenby had declared that ‘The Wars of the Crusades are now complete.’ In India, these events did not touch Muslims directly, but they could sense that their influence was waning. After the British deposed the Mughals following the uprising of 1857, the Muslim population sank in status. They had been the rulers, the keepers of high culture, the poets; but they found they could not compete against Hindus, who were better educated, and dominant in industry and commerce. Moreover, anti-Muslim sentiment coming from the British establishment was worrying. While the Muslim community’s situation under the British Raj was uncomfortable, the prospect of an independent India, in which Hindus outnumbered Muslims by three to one, was worrying. The growth of the Indian National Congress at the vanguard of the independence movement underlined the urgency of the situation. The organisation had started out as non-denominational, but the leadership came to be dominated by Hindus and was viewed by many, from inside and out, as a Hindu nationalist movement. The Muslim community was getting left behind. Sir Umar was in a privileged position, fêted by the British, yet long before he had recognised the shift in power: he was one of the leaders of a Muslim delegation that had petitioned the viceroy, Lord Minto, in 1906, leading to the foundation of the Muslim League of India. His journey to London, to the heart of the British Empire, was a continuation of the political and diplomatic work he had been occupied with over the past three decades, and Sultan Khan could be a useful tool for him in his mission. Sir Umar and Sultan Khan travelled from Bombay on the same boat as the members of the Simon Commission, disembarking at Marseilles, then taking the train through France and crossing the Channel by ferry, arriving in London on Friday afternoon 26th April. Sir John Simon’s departure from India was a little earlier than planned as a General Election had been called in Britain for 30th May 1929. He might have been glad to leave. Apart from the constant demonstrations that accompanied the commission, he was present in the Legislative Assembly in

New Delhi when members of the Hindustan Socialist Republican Party hurled bombs into the chamber.33 On his arrival in London, Sir John was greeted off the train at Victoria Station by the Prime Minister, Stanley Baldwin, and a deputation from the Punjab Association of London presented him with a garland of flowers and gave a welcoming address. But he soon found that he hadn’t escaped the troubled political situation of India. Various groups, including the London branch of the Indian National Congress, had organised a protest rally at Hyde Park with the controversial communist MP Shapurji Saklatvala, a Parsi Indian of the renowned Tata family, the chief speaker. Demonstrators had marched on to Victoria Station and scuffles ensued as the police blocked the entrance to the building; several arrests were made. Given the attack in New Delhi, they were taking no chances. In a short period of time, Sultan Khan had gone from provincial Punjab, to genteel Simla in the Himalayan foothills, then to the grand capital of the British Raj in Delhi, and had crossed seas and oceans to reach the capital of the Empire – London. He had left behind rural village life, and found himself residing in luxurious houses, a sumptuous cabin on board an ocean liner, and finally a smart hotel in the West End of London. The sense of dislocation must have been enormous. In London, Sir Umar wasted no time in courting the British establish-ment – with the help of his protégé. The day after their arrival, on Saturday 27th April, Sultan Khan was formally introduced to London society at the National Liberal Club – one of London’s distinguished gentlemen’s clubs – by Sir John Simon. Housed in a fine building in Whitehall, a mere knight’s jump from Parliament and the offices of government, this was at the heart of the establishment.34 In this safe enclave, Sultan Khan played a four-game match against the club’s strongest player, Bruno Siegheim. Born in Berlin, the cosmopolitan Siegheim had lived for many years in South Africa, winning the national championship on numerous occasions. He had moved to London in 1919 and recorded notable successes, including second place at the 1922/23 Hastings Christmas tournament, equal with Réti and just behind Rubinstein. There was nothing at stake in these games though, as every true chess

player knows, there is no such thing as a friendly game of chess. Besides, all eyes would have been on Sultan Khan, his patron Sir Umar, and benefactor Sir John Simon with his special connection to India and senior position in the British government. Khan acquitted himself well, winning two games, and drawing two.35 This is the only game that survives. B.Siegheim Sultan Khan Match, London (4) 27th April 1929 1.d4 d5 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♘f6 4.♗g5 ♗e7 5.e3 h6 6.♗h4 0-0 7.♘f3 b6 8.cxd5 exd5

The most common move in the 1920s – Tartakower and Capablanca played like this. 8…♘xd5 is the modern way to play, trading pieces and easing the congestion in the black army. 9.♗d3 ♗b7 10.♕c2 c5 11.0-0 ♘c6 12.a3 ♖e8 13.♖fd1 c4 14.♗f5 a6 15.♔h1 ♘a5 16.♘e5 ♕d6 17.f4

We have seen something similar before – in Khan’s game against Khadilkar from the All-India Championship. However, Siegheim plays the so-called Pillsbury Attack (knight on e5 supported by the pawn triad d4-e3-f4) in far better fashion.

17…♗c8 18.g4 ♗xf5 19.gxf5 ♘d7? 20.♗xe7 ♖xe7 21.♖g1

Instead 21.♕g2! is a killer: 21…f6 22.♘xd5 and wins. 21…f6 22.♕g2 fxe5 23.♘xd5 e4! 24.♘xe7+ ♕xe7 25.♕h3 ♔h7 26.♖g6 ♘f6 27.♖ag1 ♖g8 28.♕h4

The situation looks desperate, but Sultan Khan’s knight arrives just in time to save the day. 28…♘b7 29.♖1g3 ♘d6 30.♕g5 ♕f7! 31.♔g1

31.♖h3 ♘xf5! 32.♕xf5 ♕xg6. 31…b5 32.♔f1 a5 33.♔e1 b4 34.axb4 axb4 35.♔d2 c3+ 36.bxc3 bxc3+ 37.♔c1 ♕b7 0-1

Given the inaccuracies, and given that they played four games in one evening, I can imagine that this was played with a fast time control. Khan’s tendency to push his queenside majority in Queen’s Gambit positions, and his ability to defend accurately under pressure, are notable. The soft diplomacy worked well. Sultan Khan’s introduction at the National Liberal Club was reported in the national newspapers, and on the back of that Sir Umar was able to put across the reasons for his visit: ‘… I have come to this country with a special mission to place before the British statesmen and public the views of a large section of the martial races whom I represent.’

He went on to say that the martial races in the Punjab had supplied the Indian Army with a heavy percentage of recruits but had no elected representative of its own in the Legislatures. A great deal of the peace and prosperity of India depended on the contentment of this community and that their voice was being drowned out by ‘professional politicians and agitators, who were heard so much more frequently and audibly.’ (A very clear dig at the Indian National Congress.)36 In another interview, given a few days after this, he was even more blunt: ‘India would go to pieces if left on her own. Instead of drawing men from the upper martial clans, as the British do, the agitators, if they had their way, would draw in men from the south and other districts who physically and mentally are not fit to rule, and the consequence would be that India in the hands of these weaklings would be invaded again from different quarters and eventually go under. The present administration is our only safeguard.’37 The warrior Sir Umar was the physical proof of the fitness of the martial races, and Sultan Khan, while not built in the same mould, was proof of their intellectual quality. Between this duo, the political message could not have been expressed more clearly. The following day, Sunday 28th April, the former World Champion, José Raúl Capablanca, gave a simultaneous display in St. John’s Wood, North London. He played 35, winning 29, drawing three, and losing three, to Dr G.F.Abercrombie, Mr F.Salmony, and Sultan Khan. If you haven’t read the introduction, now is the moment. Incidentally, as well as the results of the display, The Times reported that Khan ‘will probably compete in the British Championship tournament at Ramsgate’, an indication that negotiations for his participation had been made before leaving for England. Capablanca was a prolific exponent of simultaneous exhibitions, conducting more than any other professional player of his day – and probably more than any other since. On his first USA tour in 1909 between 12th January and 2nd March, he crossed the country playing 31 exhibitions with the outstanding total score of 571 wins, 18 draws and 13 losses. This wasn’t

just something he practised in his youth. At the beginning of April 1929, he was embarking on his 9th European simultaneous tour. On the 8th, 9th, 10th and 12th April he had given exhibitions at the famous Selfridges department store in the heart of London, scoring in total 127 wins, 9 draws and just 1 loss. His effortless style was perfectly suited to these displays. Alexander Alekhine, his great rival, conceded that he had never seen in any other player such a ‘flabbergasting quickness of chess comprehension’.38 No other professional matched Capablanca’s speed in simultaneous displays or his scores. The Cuban exuded star quality: he was charming, courteous and always immaculately turned out. He is one of the few chess players to become wellknown outside the narrow confines of the tournament circuit and was hugely popular with the general public. At Selfridges he agreed to play a ‘women only’ exhibition. Forty turned up. He beat them all. Such simultaneous tours were not only lucrative, he was also fulfilling a professional duty to his country. After breaking through into the chess world’s elite, Capablanca secured a post with the Cuban Foreign Office as an ambassador-at-large, in effect representing his country wherever he travelled. He could stay in Cuban embassies, enjoy their hospitality, and come into contact with the great and the good from other walks of life. Being so engaged took away the financial pressure that many other chess professionals had to endure, and it is no wonder that some of them felt that Capablanca looked down on them. They certainly looked up to him. William Winter, one of England’s leading players, wrote: ‘I am bound to say my first impressions of him were not favourable […] in common with other English players I resented his behaviour at the board. He never sat down, but when it was his turn to move, strolled up to the table, surveyed the position for a few seconds, made his move, and walked away as if he were giving a simultaneous exhibition. Probably he was justified in holding the opposition in contempt, but he need not have shown it quite so blatantly.’39 Capablanca himself wrote: ‘Conceit I consider a foolish thing: but more

foolish still is that false modesty that vainly attempts to reveal that which all facts tend to prove.’40 I should add that Winter went on to say, ‘Later on he got rid of all his mannerisms and I came to appreciate his sterling character.’ Although Capablanca had lost the world title to Alekhine in 1927, there were many who believed that the Cuban was nevertheless the stronger player. He set out to prove that he could still be a worthy challenger and started to play in more tournaments than he had as World Champion. In 1928 he came second in Bad Kissingen, first in Budapest, first in Berlin, as well as fitting in another simultaneous exhibition tour. If he could remain in the public eye, there was more chance that he would be able to raise sufficient funds to challenge Alekhine for a return match for the world title. Before the simultaneous exhibitions in Selfridges, Capablanca had played for a foreign masters’ against British masters’ team in Ramsgate and had achieved the top score with 5½/7. As well as his simultaneous tour, for the remainder of 1929 he went on to play in Carlsbad, Budapest, Barcelona and finally, at the end of the year, back in England for the traditional Hastings tournament. We will return to him then. The first week in London could not have gone better for Sir Umar Hayat Khan: he had cemented his friendship with Sir John Simon, been introduced to the British establishment, and had his name and cause publicised in newspapers all over the country. Much of this was thanks to his chess protégé who had performed admirably and created the headlines. The gregarious Sir Umar was in his element with introductions to be made and contacts established. In representing the ‘martial classes’, Sir Umar’s connection to Sir John Simon was essential, but it was actually a mutually beneficial relationship. Sir Umar attended several meetings and receptions with him in the run-up to the general election, often giving a supporting speech, and providing visible evidence that the commission’s work was proceeding with approval from Indians themselves – even though the protests in India told the real story. Sultan Khan didn’t get involved with such politicking. One can search in vain for any view of his on Indian independence or indeed any political matter: it would have been quite out of turn to do so. He knew his place. Sir Umar was the politician – and the master. But Khan benefited from the

connections that his patron established. On Tuesday 30th April, the Imperial Chess Club hosted a lunch in honour of Sir John Simon, Sir Umar Hayat Khan, and Sultan Khan at Claridges, still one of the most fashionable and salubrious hotels in London. Later on, the party moved to the club’s headquarters where Capablanca joined the party. Both Sir Umar and Sultan Khan, as well as other members of the household, ended up playing for the Imperial Chess Club and remained members throughout their stay in London. The Imperial Chess Club met in Brook Street in Mayfair, one of the most exclusive neighbourhoods of London. It had been founded by Andrew Bonar Law (Prime Minister 1922-23) and other notable parliamentarians who wanted to meet the strongest chess players in the country, not to say the world, over a friendly board. No wonder Sir Umar was keen to join such company.41

Sir Umar Hayat Khan and Sultan Khan in London 1929.

Well over a month after arriving in London, Sultan Khan got some proper practice on the chessboard. A small tournament was arranged on his behalf at The Gambit chess rooms by the proprietor Edith Price (British Ladies champion on numerous occasions). The Gambit was an institution on the London chess scene from its opening in 1898 to when it finally closed in

1958. It is said that during that period it only closed for two days – when it was bombed during the Blitz in the 1940s. The rooms provided a convenient location for office workers in the City42 to play a lunchtime game, organised regular tournaments for more serious players, and provided a home for the various rakes of the London chess scene. ‘You will meet many players you know and many more whom all the world knows,’ ran the cumbersome strapline of their classified advertisement and Lasker, Capablanca, and Alekhine were indeed among the noted visitors at the club over the years. The tournament featured Adrian Garcia Conde, a Mexican who was resident in London; and Fred Yates and William Winter, the only two professional players in the country. They both played a significant role in coaching Sultan Khan and were at the same time his rivals at the chessboard.43 Yates was forty-five years old and the reigning British champion – his fifth national title. He was a popular figure on the British chess scene. While never among the absolute front rank on the international scene, he had done much to restore Britain’s reputation after players such as Joseph Blackburne had faded at the end of the 19th century. In 1910 he had been invited to play in a tournament in Hamburg, and the great Dr Tarrasch, in those pre-war years at the height of his powers, had objected to his participation, declaring that, ‘There are no chess masters in England’. Yates went on to demolish him with a blistering attack. Yates had given up a job in accountancy to risk a career as a professional chess player, making a living through tournament prize money, tuition, lectures, simultaneous exhibitions and journalism. He was bookish and reserved with a keen Yorkshire wit. One observer of him at the chessboard described him as ‘… small, clean-shaven, sharp-featured and birdlike, with black hair and thin lips that are never still…’.44 William Winter was more controversial. A Cambridge law graduate, his studies and his perception of the First World War led him to join the Communist Party. He became involved in political agitation in Bristol after the war, was arrested and sentenced to six months in gaol for sedition. Winter was the nephew of J.M.Barrie, the writer of Peter Pan, a connection that could have afforded him a comfortable life-style in any professional field, but one that he eschewed, scraping a living on the margins of society as a chess player. Photographs generally show him with a knotted brow, and, when

seated, twisted limbs, in a tortured effort of concentration. One of his contemporaries recalled that, ‘He had two very great loves. One was chess, certainly, and the other was that he was very fond of beer. He was always a very untidy man to look at and sort of covered with cigarette ash.’45 The appearance might have been unruly, but Winter was a rigorous researcher into the game. He was thirty-one years old – a young age when compared with many of the best players in the country – and a rising star on the scene.46 Facing the experienced Yates and Winter proved to be a reality check for Sultan Khan. Sultan Khan F.D.Yates London Gambit Tournament (1) 3rd June 1929

position after 10…h7-h6

In reply to the pawn push 10…h6, Khan played: 11.♗xf6?

A basic positional error. White has to preserve the bishop pair with 11.♗h4. Khan must have been worried by 11…g5 12.♗g3 exd4 13.cxd4 ♘xe4, but unsurprisingly White gets an easy attack with 14.♗xe4 ♖xe4 15.♘c3 and f2-f4.

Exchanging is a seemingly safe move, but it takes all the pressure from Black, and from this moment Yates had an easy game. Khan does not stand worse, but little by little he was outplayed and after 55 moves he succumbed. The second round featured Khan’s trusty Queen’s Gambit Declined with an early …a7-a6. A.G.Conde Sultan Khan London Gambit Tournament (2) 4th June 1929 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘f3 d5 4.♗g5 ♗e7 5.e3 a6 6.cxd5 exd5 7.♘c3 ♗e6 8.♗d3 ♘bd7 9.0-0 h6 10.♗h4 c5

Khan persists with his policy of advancing his queenside pawn majority but opening the centre before castling is foolhardy. The same idea had landed him in trouble against Capablanca. Coming right up to date, PelletierNakamura, Zurich 2017, continued instead 10…0-0! 11.♖c1 ♖e8 12.h3 ♗d6 13.♘e2 c6 14.♗g3 ♕b8 15.♗xd6 ♕xd6 with balanced chances.

Over the next few moves White has several favourable opportunities to exchange on c5, but he obviously wanted to retain the pawn on d4 to begin a Pillsbury-style attack with ♘e5 – that was the strategic fashion of the time. 11.♖c1 b5 12.a3 ♖c8 13.♗b1 c4

Establishing the queenside pawn majority – see his games versus Siegheim and Khadilkar. 14.♘e5 ♘xe5 15.dxe5 ♘g8 16.♗xe7 ♘xe7 17.f4

17…f5?

White’s kingside pawn advance is worrying, but this is an over-reaction. Instead 17…g6 was playable. Khan’s difficulties are a consequence of his decision to delay castling. 18.♘e2

18.exf6! gxf6, damaging the kingside pawns, looks stronger, and ♕d4, ♕h5+ and ♕e1 are all good follow-ups. 18…0-0 19.♘d4 ♕d7 20.h3 ♘c6 21.♔h2 ♘xd4 22.exd4 ♕e7 23.♕e1 h5 24.g4 hxg4 25.hxg4 g6 26.g5?

A curious decision. White had to keep the position open with 26.gxf5 ♗xf5 27.♖c3 ♕e6, but Black is well enough coordinated to hold the kingside. 26…♔g7 27.♔g2 ♖h8 28.♖h1 ♖xh1 29.♕xh1 ♖h8 30.♕e1 ♕a7 31.♕e3 ♔g8 32.♖h1 ♖xh1 33.♔xh1 a5 34.♔g2 b4 35.axb4 axb4 36.♔f2 b3

Khan employs his favourite strategy of shutting in White’s bishop (see the game against Khadilkar). From here on White is struggling.

37.♔e2 ♕a1 38.♕c1 ♗d7 39.♔e3 ♗e8 40.♔e2 ♕a5 41.♕e3 ♕a7 42.♔f2 ♕h7 43.♔g2 ♕h5 44.♕f3 ♕xf3+ 45.♔xf3 ♔f7 46.♔e3 ♔e7 47.♔d2 ♔d7 48.♔c3 ♔c6 49.♔b4 ♔b6 50.♔c3 ♔b5 51.♔d2 ♔b4 52.♔e3 ♗b5 53.e6 ♗e8 54.♔d2 ♔b5 55.♔c3 ♔c6 0-1

The king picks up the e-pawn then returns to force a break on the queenside. Early on, Khan didn’t take care of his king very well, but his opponent misplayed the attack and then positional technique took over. The Observer’s correspondent was impressed: ‘Sultan Khan’s play has made a most favourable impression among the “cognoscenti” and his win against the strong Mexican player in the second round was a masterpiece of end-game

strategy.’ However, against stronger opposition the shortcomings of his play would surely have been exposed. As in the third round. William Winter had impressed recently: he won the Scarborough Inter​national in 1928 and had finished third in the 1928 British Championship. He had a well-rehearsed opening repertoire and sound classical style. Sultan Khan W.Winter London Gambit Tournament (3), 5th June 1929 1.e4 c5 2.♗c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♘c6 4.♘f3 ♘f6 5.♕e2

These look like the moves of a player who has never faced the Sicilian before. Nevertheless, Khan manages to steer the game towards a position that is roughly level. 5…d6 6.0-0 ♗e7 7.♗b5 ♗d7 8.♗xc6 ♗xc6 9.d4 0-0 10.dxc5 dxc5 11.♘e5 ♕c7 12.♘xc6 ♕xc6 13.♗g5 h6 14.♗h4 ♖ad8 15.♖fd1 ♕c8 16.e5 ♘d5 17.♗xe7 ♘xe7 18.♘e4 ♘f5 19.c3 b6 20.f3 ♖xd1+ 21.♖xd1 ♖d8 22.♔f2 ♕c7 23.f4 ♖d5 24.g4 ♘e7 25.♖g1 ♕d8 26.♔e3

This is an utterly unrealistic attempt to play for a win. First, Khan moved the rook away from the open file, and then, as a consequence, he has had to bring his king into the middle in order to prevent Black’s rook from invading on the d-file. There are still a few adventures in the remainder of the game, but there was an inevitability to the finish.

26…♔f8 27.h4 h5 28.♘d6 f6 29.c4 ♖d4 30.♕g2 fxe5 31.fxe5 hxg4 32.♕f1+ ♘f5+ 33.♘xf5 exf5 34.♕xf5+ ♔g8 35.♖xg4 ♖d1 36.♕c2 ♖e1+ 37.♔f3 ♕f8+ 38.♔g2 ♕f1+ 0-1

Mate follows shortly. In the fourth round Khan faced Yates again, this time with black, but was gradually outplayed in a French Winawer. In the fifth round he drew with Conde, and in the sixth lost to Winter again.

First prize was £7; 2nd £3 10s; 3rd £2; 4th £1, with a special prize of 10 shillings for each win and 5 shillings for each draw, and £1 for the most brilliant game.47 The British Chess Magazine commented: ‘The Indian plays a strong imaginative game and apparently lacks nothing but experience to raise him to master strength.’ The remark sounds too kind to me. Khan’s openings were

poor, and his middlegame judgment sometimes suspect, particularly regarding king safety. An odd event occurred in the middle of the tournament. The Times reported on 7th June that ‘the tournament has not made very much progress as M.Sultan Khan, the Indian player, had another engagement on Wednesday’. This underlines how Khan was not a free agent. I am guessing that he was obliged to attend an official function in connection with Sir Umar’s advancement in society. The Nawab was offered a seat on the Council of India, the committee that advised the Secretary of State to India, the British cabinet minister responsible for the governance of India, Burma and Aden. A new Secretary took over on 7th June, William Wedgwood Benn, a member of the Labour Party. Would that mean more radical policies? In short, no. At that time the major political parties were united in their policy towards India: reform was on the agenda and Sir John Simon’s commission was working on that, but the granting of independence was out of the question. For the British, Sir Umar must have been a perfect candidate for the job with his fierce loyalty, his knowledge of the sensitive Punjab region and, not least, his close relationship to Sir John Simon. Perfect, at least, if one didn’t wish to be challenged too hard on policy. Sir Umar’s diplomatic efforts had been a complete success: he was now able to directly influence decisionmaking at the heart of government. Rather than the ‘short stay’ that he had announced on his arrival, he was now in London for the foreseeable future and, naturally, if he stayed, then Sultan Khan would be staying too.48 The Gambit tournament might well have acted as a final audition for Khan for the British Championship in August and, despite his indifferent result, he was granted entry. The officials in the British Chess Federation would have been persuaded by his successes in India, testimonial from his sparring partner in New Delhi, Noel Roughton, and no doubt Sir Umar Hayat Khan and Sir John Simon added their weight.49 In the June edition of the British Chess Magazine the participants in the British Championship were announced and Sultan Khan was one of them.

CHAPTER 5

British Championship, Ramsgate 1929 ‘A splendid achievement for British and Imperial Chess.’ – Sir Richard Barnett MP After the Gambit tournament, Sultan Khan had six weeks before the British Championship began. His shortcomings were clear, but there was an obvious remedy. William Winter and Fred Yates had proved conclusively that they were superior to Khan; they were both professional players, making a meagre living, and an offer from Sir Umar to tutor his protégé would have been very welcome. Winter wrote in his memoirs: ‘I remember vividly my first meeting with the dark skinned man who spoke very little English and answered remarks that he did not understand with a sweet and gentle smile. One of the Alekhine v Bogoljubow matches was in a [sic] progress and showed him a short game, without telling him the contestants. “I tink” he said, “that they both very weak players.” This was not conceit on his part. The vigorous style of the world championship contenders leading to rapid contact and a quick decision in the middle-game, was quite foreign to his conception of the Indian game in which the pawn moves only one square at a time. Yates and I discovered that although he knew nothing of the theory of the openings, his middle-game strategy showed great profundity and his endings were of real master class.’50 On the eve of the British Championship, The Times gave a preview of the tournament, noting that Sir George Thomas and Fred Yates, two of the top players in the country, would be absent as they would be participating in the renowned Carlsbad international tournament: ‘On general form there are at least half a dozen of the players who

might come out first at the end of next week […] So far as the Indian player is concerned, the recent tournament at the Gambit Chess rooms revealed him as a very strong player, but not up to the standard of W.Winter and F.D.Yates. I expect to see him do well, but hardly enough to win the title’. Ramsgate is a seaside town in the south-east of England, on the tip of Kent, jutting out into the North Sea. In Victorian times it was a fashionable resort – Princess Victoria had convalesced there for several months as a teenager in 1835, not long before she ascended the throne. The thriving port and proximity to mainland Europe perhaps account for the number of notable foreign visitors: Vincent van Gogh moved there in 1876, as did Karl Marx in 1879. The grand facades of the hotels on the seafront speak of a well-heeled clientele. In the 1920s the council had invested heavily in extending the promenade, and this was a popular place to spend a holiday, just a couple of hours by train from London. At the beginning of August, the town would have been packed with tourists enjoying their summer holidays, especially as this year there was a heatwave. This was the unique English seaside experience: walks on the promenade, fish and chips, ice-cream, bucket and spade, salty sea air, deckchairs and sunburn.

Standing: W.H.M.Kirk, W.Winter, J.A.J.Drewitt, Rev. F.E.Hamond, T.H.Tylor,

R.P.Michell, J.H.Morrison Seated: A.Eva, H.E.Price, Sultan Khan, G.Abrahams, W.A.Fairhurst.

The British Chess Championships were held at Chatham House Grammar School, a grand red-brick building in the centre of the town, a few hundred yards back from the sea front. As well as the main championship itself, there was a ladies’ championship and a host of subsidiary tournaments for weaker players.51 The Daily Herald (London) reported that ‘Among other notable persons at the annual congress of the British Chess Federation… is Colonel Nawab Malik, Sir Umar Hayat Khan (Tiwana), the famous Indian prince in native costume, accompanied by M.Sultan Khan, the Indian chess champion…’ Once again, Sir Umar steals the headline, with Sultan Khan an adjunct – even though this was a chess tournament, not a political gathering.52 Sultan Khan stayed at a Jewish boarding house where he found himself lodging with Harry Golombek (later British Champion), who recalled that he was in search of cooking that wasn’t too far away from what he was used to in India: ‘Despite the fact that he had little English we got on very well together, particularly over the chess board after the day’s play. Though so much younger than him I was more or less able to hold my own in analysis since I was London Boy Champion and had a very quick sight of the board. For this reason, later on, when we did meet in tournaments, he treated me with care and a sort of respect that he did not exactly vouchsafe to players who were by reputation my superior.’53 On another occasion Golombek noted that: ‘Sultan Khan, I discovered, was totally uneducated, rather lazy, and blest, or cursed, with a childish sense of humour that manifested itself in a high-pitched laugh.’54 These personal remarks need some commentary: ‘totally uneducated’ means without a western education. ‘Lazy’ – possibly. Khan was certainly not a great researcher when it came to chess but preferred to play. ‘Childish sense

of humour’ – no one else has made this or a similar comment about him.55 William Winter recalled that, ‘[Sultan Khan] always appeared in flowing white robes and was accompanied by two attendants similarly clad, one to write down his score and the other to supply him with the lemonade which he drank continuously. The latter had to be withdrawn after spilling a glass of the noxious beverage over the trousers of one of the competitors. Sultan and his retinue were one of the centres of attraction, particularly to the juvenile element. Every day he was accompanied to the congress by a horde of yelling children who, unless the doorkeepers were very vigilant, did not stop at the entrance…’56 Did that account for his poor performance in the first round? He attempted a Slav Defence – a departure for him, and perhaps played under the tutelage of Winter, who included it in his own opening repertoire – but his inexperience showed. Rev. F.E.Hamond Sultan Khan British Championship, Ramsgate (1) 29th July 1929 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 d5 3.c4 e6 4.♘c3 c6 5.e3 ♗d6 6.♕c2 ♘bd7 7.♗d2 0-0 8.cxd5 exd5 9.♗d3 h6

Khan has castled early (good) but weakens his kingside pawn front unnecessarily (bad). Instead 9…♖e8 and …♘f8 is the standard way to play – as we will see later in Sultan Khan-Menchik, Hastings 1932… 10.g4

In true English style, Hamond lashes out. 10…♖e8

Another misjudgment. Khan should at least have taken the pawn for his trouble: 10…♘xg4. White will continue with 11.♖g1, followed by castling queenside, but the attack is not as easy as the game since the g5-square is covered by the pawn. Declining makes matters worse. 11.g5 hxg5 12.♘xg5 ♘f8 13.0-0-0 ♘e6 14.h4 c5 15.♖dg1 cxd4 16.♘xe6 ♗xe6 17.exd4 ♕c7 18.h5 ♘e4 19.♗xe4 dxe4 20.♕xe4 f5 21.♕h4 ♗d5 22.h6

A convincing attack. Khan stretched the game out till move 43, but White’s victory was never in doubt. The Reverend Francis Hamond fits the stereotype of the old-fashioned amateur English chess player. One imagines a greying elderly academic hunched over a chessboard on a wet Sunday afternoon in the vicarage. He had first participated in one of the subsidiary tournaments in 1904, and the championship proper in 1906, competing on several occasions after that with indifferent results. To everyone’s surprise, he returned to the championship in 1929 after a break of six years and was leading the tournament after seven rounds with 5½ points before suffering a complete collapse, losing his final four games. The 60-year-old’s stamina ran out, possibly exacerbated by the extreme heatwave. The British Chess Magazine reported, ‘He frankly admitted that his early form was too good to last, and was no more despondent over losses than elated over victories. His was a true sporting outlook right through…’ The true English amateur spirit: giving his best, showing modesty, and accepting his fate with equanimity. ‘Better a fair loser than a vulgar winner’,57 was the attitude lauded in this era, and a contrast with the professional chess of today where ‘Nice guys are losers’ would be a more accurate description of the ethos. We have no record of the moves of Khan’s game from round 2. The Times reported: ‘Sultan Khan against Morrison came quite early to a position

wherein the latter won a pawn, a somewhat desultory struggle following. Morrison retained his pawn at the adjournment, but it is difficult to see how either can do much with the position.’58 The result was a draw in 70 moves.59 Another sub-optimal performance for the Indian: Morrison often propped up the bottom of tournament crosstables in England in the 1920s. In round 3 Khan faced Gerald Abrahams, at 22 years old the youngest player in the tournament. He had already provided an upset in round 1 by defeating William Winter, one of the pre-tournament favourites. Sultan Khan G.Abrahams British Championship, Ramsgate (3) 31st July 1929 1.e4 e6 2.♘f3 d5 3.exd5

The French Exchange Variation is not the most critical test for Black, but it is perhaps a sensible choice for Khan as in this simple position he can play naturally and avoid unfamiliar opening theory. 3…exd5 4.d4 ♘f6 5.♗d3 ♗d6 6.0-0 ♘c6 7.♖e1+ ♘e7 8.♗g5 ♗e6 9.♘c3 c6 10.♘e2 ♕c7 11.♘g3 0-0-0 12.c3 h6

13.♗d2

13.♗xf6 gxf6 14.♘h5 looks better to target squares and pawns, but Khan might have been influenced by the catastrophe of round 1 and was loathe to open a file in front of his king. 13…h5

An odd move. Giving away the g5-square makes it more difficult to advance on the kingside. 14.♗g5 ♗g4 15.h3 h4 16.♘f1 ♗h5 17.b4 ♘fg8 18.♗xe7

Giving up the bishop pair and straightening out Black’s pieces is a curious decision, but I’m guessing he was concerned about …f7-f6, …g7-g5 and then …g5-g4, breaking open the kingside. 18…♘xe7 19.♘e3 ♕d7 20.b5!?

Forward at any cost. 20…♖dg8

What would happen if Black had taken the pawn: 20…cxb5…? The obvious follow up is 21.♕b3, but that would allow 21…♗xf3, shattering the kingside. So 21.♗e2 would have to be played first before pursuing the attack. This should have been tried. 21.bxc6 ♕xc6 22.c4 ♕d7 23.cxd5 ♔b8 24.♖b1 g5 25.♗b5 ♕c7 26.♕a4 g4 27.♖ec1 ♕d8 28.hxg4 ♗g6 29.♖b3 h3 30.♗c6 b6 31.♘c4

The concentration of forces around Black’s king signals the end. 31…♘xc6 32.♕xc6 hxg2 33.♘xd6 ♕e7 34.♖e3 ♖h1+ 35.♔xg2 ♖xc1 36.♖xe7 ♖xc6 37.dxc6 1-0

There were a couple of strange moments out of the opening but, in the end, Khan played the attack with vigour. This game is a fitting counterpart to round 1: this time he was doing the attacking on open files. That brought him to 1½/3. In the fourth round Khan faced another fast-improving player, 25-year-old William Fairhurst. The year before he had scored a respectable 6½/11 in the British Championship. He was to become British champion in 1937, 11 times Scottish champion between 1931 and 1962 and later, after emigrating, represented New Zealand at the Nice Olympiad in 1974. W.A.Fairhurst Sultan Khan British Championship, Ramsgate (4) 1th August 1929 1.♘f3 e6 2.d4 d5 3.c4 ♘f6 4.♘c3 a6

Sultan’s favourite system again. For comparison, see his earlier games against Capablanca, Khadilkar, Siegheim and Conde. 5.♗g5 ♗e7 6.e3 dxc4 7.♗xc4 b5 8.♗d3 ♗b7 9.0-0 ♘bd7 10.♕e2 c5 11.♖fd1 c4

Ambitious. We have seen in his previous Queen’s Gambit games that Khan has an inclination to push his queenside pawn majority, but it takes the pressure off White’s centre. 11…♕b6 or 11…cxd4 are more prudent.

12.♗c2 ♘d5!?

Otherwise 12…0-0 13.e4 restricts Black’s pieces. 13.♘e4 f6 14.♗h4 0-0 15.♗g3 ♕b6 16.♖ac1 ♖fd8 17.♗b1 ♖ac8 18.♘ed2 ♘f8 19.e4 ♘b4 20.♘f1 a5?

Eager to use the pawn majority, Khan pushes forward, but it is premature. 20…♗d6 was the last opportunity to exchange bishops, allowing Black more freedom to manoeuvre. 21.♘e3 ♘a6 22.a4! ♘b4 23.axb5 ♕xb5 24.b3 a4!?

Good practical play. In a difficult situation, Khan finds a way to confuse matters. 25.bxa4

The alternative was 25.bxc4 ♕a6, and although White’s pawn centre is impressive, the a-pawn is annoying. 25…♕xa4 26.d5

The position breaks open and play becomes more tactical. I suspect time pressure was a factor in what transpires. 26…exd5 27.exd5 ♗xd5 28.♘xd5 ♘xd5 29.♗xh7+ ♔xh7 30.♖xd5 ♖xd5 31.♕e4+ ♔h8 32.♕xd5 ♖d8 33.♕h5+ ♔g8 34.♘h4 ♗a3 35.♖f1 c3 36.♘f5 c2 37.♘d6 ♕b3 38.♘f5 ♖d1 39.♗f4 ♖xf1+ 40.♔xf1 ♕b1+

White resigned.

In spite of the swings in fortune, I find this an impressive game. First, there was a coherence and singlemindedness of strategy: the c-pawn that Khan boldly advanced on move 11 marched on towards the queening square and proved the decisive factor. Second, even when the position turned against him, Khan cleverly succeeded in complicating with a pawn sacrifice (24… a4), and in the final phase of the game dealt with the tactics well. One factor in that was the pragmatic positioning of the knight on f8 on move 18, protecting the sensitive h7-square, and allowing him to carry on with his queenside strategy. In round 5, Khan played Wilfred Kirk with the black pieces. As far as can be ascertained from the major tournaments of the 1920s, Kirk was an ‘also ran’ on the British chess scene. There is no record of the game moves but, by all accounts, Khan’s never-say-die spirit pulled him through: ‘Sultan Khan placed himself among the leaders by defeating Kirk. The play was not without vicissitudes, the Indian representative being subject through nearly the whole of the game to a raking attack as the result of an early pawn-gaining expedition. The utmost care and patience were needed, but the Sultan survived the ordeal, and finally won through his recognised skill in end games.’ (Western Daily Press)60

Sultan Khan drew with Theodore Tylor in round 6 – this game score has also not survived. Press reports noted that the opening was original; neither side had any marked advantage throughout the game and the draw after 40 moves was ‘legitimate’.61 Theodore Tylor was another of the gifted amateur chess players of this era. He competed in 12 British Championship tournaments (generally finishing in the top half), was part of the British team at the Hamburg Olympiad in 1930, and participated in the famous Nottingham tournament of 1936 in which he picked up the notable scalps of Flohr and Tartakower. His performances were remarkable for the fact that he was partially sighted.62 The first week of the championship was over, and after six rounds the two oldest players were leading the tournament: Hamond, Michell 4½, Khan, Winter, Drewitt 4. At this point, as was traditional in the British Championship, there was a free day on the Sunday. Play resumed on the Monday, and Sultan Khan continued his strong run, aided by his opponent: ‘I understand that Drewitt inadvertently touched his queen with the apparent intention of capturing a knight, which would have meant the loss of the queen. He at once resigned.’ (The Times)63 There is a contradiction in this report between ‘inadvertently’ and ‘with the apparent intention…’ No record of the game exists, but even that wouldn’t be able to tell us about the clock times. We know that Khan liked to move quickly, so perhaps the 56-year-old Drewitt simply cracked in time pressure. Going into round 8, the leading scores were: Hamond 5½, Khan, Michell 5. H.E.Price Sultan Khan British Championship, Ramsgate (8) 6th August 1929

1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.e5 e6

A gruesome example of Khan’s ignorance of opening theory, transposing into a French Advance Variation a tempo down. We have already seen him play the black side of the French against Hassan in the All-India Championship – a fine positional victory – and perhaps his rosy view of that game led him to play in this way. In closed positions the loss of time usually isn’t that important, but here French strategy is so well known that White should be able to secure a comfortable advantage. Incidentally, the Caro-Kann was another of Winter’s openings – but it seems that he hadn’t schooled his pupil very comprehensively. Instead 3…♗f5 or 3…c5 are the standard moves. 4.♗d3 c5 5.c3 ♘c6 6.♘e2 ♕b6 7.0-0 ♗d7 8.dxc5 ♗xc5 9.b4 ♗e7 10.♗e3 ♕c7 11.f4 f5 12.♘d2 ♘h6 13.h3 0-0 14.♘f3 a6 15.♔h1 ♗e8 16.♘fd4 ♕d7 17.♗c2 ♗h5 18.♕d3 ♗g6 19.a3?

White has a pleasant space advantage and well-placed pieces. If he had dropped the queen back to d2 on the last turn all would have been safe and he could have pressed Black further on the queenside. But he has carelessly allowed a tactic: 19…♘xe5 20.fxe5 f4 21.♕d1

I don’t understand why White didn’t recover the pawn: 21.♕d2 fxe3 22.♕xe3 ♗xc2 23.♘xc2, with a position that is more comfortable for Black, but no more. In the game, Khan manages to keep the extra pawn and finishes off smartly when his opponent exposes his king with a rash pawn advance. 21…♗xc2 22.♕xc2 fxe3 23.♕d3 ♗g5 24.♘f3 ♕e7 25.g4 ♖ac8 26.♔g2 ♖f7 27.♘ed4 ♗f4 28.a4 ♖ff8 29.♘e2 g5 30.♖h1 ♖c4 31.♘ed4 ♘f7 32.h4 ♘xe5 33.♘xe5 ♗xe5 34.hxg5 ♖f2+ 35.♔g1 ♗xd4 36.cxd4 ♖cc2 37.♖h6 ♖g2+ 38.♔h1 ♕c7

And White resigned.

With this victory Khan took the lead with 6 points out of 8 as his more elderly rivals, Hamond and Michell, faltered. Nevertheless, they were still only a half point behind, so the next game was a crucial encounter. Once again, it did not begin well. R.P.Michell Sultan Khan British Championship, Ramsgate (9) 7th August 1929 1.d4 d5 2.c4 c6 3.♘f3 ♘f6 4.♘c3 a6

Khan’s favourite move in queen’s pawn openings, this time in a Slav setting. Later, in the last decades of the 20th century, the rest of the world was to catch up and the so-called Chebanenko Variation achieved respectability at the very highest levels of professional chess. 5.cxd5 cxd5 6.♗f4 ♘c6 7.♕c2 e6 8.a3 ♗d7 9.e3 ♕a5 10.♘d2 b5 11.♘b3 ♕b6 12.♗d3 ♗e7 13.0-0 ♖c8 14.♕e2 h6 15.♖ac1 ♘a5 16.♘xa5 ♕xa5 17.e4 ♕b6 18.e5 ♘g8 19.♕g4 g5 20.♗e3 f5

4…a6 is fine – but not when followed up like this. The early queen sortie to b6 wasted time and 10…b5 weakened the c5-square. Instead of the queenside demonstration, kingside castling was a necessity: the last opportunities to do this were on moves 14 or 15. At this point, Michell is too mild. 21.♘xd5 exd5 22.♗xf5 leaves Black in a desperate situation as he is unable to develop his kingside pieces. Instead the veteran’s advantage gradually dwindles as he fails to find a way to break through. 21.exf6 ♘xf6 22.♗g6+ ♔d8 23.♕e2 ♖c6 24.♗d3 ♗d6 25.♔h1 ♕b8 26.g3 ♖c8 27.f4 g4 28.f5 e5 29.dxe5 ♗xe5 30.♕f2 ♖c6 31.♗d4 ♗xd4 32.♕xd4 ♕b6

Over the last ten moves Michell has squandered chances to attack and little by little the exchanges have relieved the pressure on Black’s position. Even here he could still have kept a semblance of attack with 33.♕f4. Instead Michell meekly acquiesces to an endgame. 33.♘e2 ♕xd4 34.♘xd4 ♖xc1 35.♖xc1 ♔e7 36.♔g1 ♔d6 37.♔f2 ♖e8 38.♘b3 ♖e5 39.♘d4 ♘e4+ 40.♔g2 ♖e8 41.♖f1 ♔e5

The transformation is complete. The king has raced up the board to push away the knight and Black’s pieces dominate the centre. 42.♘e2 ♗xf5 43.♘c3 ♖f8 44.♖e1 ♔d4 45.♗xe4 ♗xe4+ 46.♔g1 ♔d3 47.♖d1+ ♔c2 48.♖d4 ♔xb2

From inauspicious beginnings, the king triumphs. 49.♘xe4 dxe4 50.♖xe4 ♔xa3 51.♖e3+ ♔b4 52.♖e4+ ♔c3 53.♖xg4 a5 54.♖g6 ♖h8 55.♖a6 a4 56.♔f1 ♔b3 0-1

Khan had a clear idea of what he wanted to achieve in the middlegame, and he played the endgame well, preventing White’s king from crossing into the middle of the board (37…♖e8), before invading with his own king. His opening play, on the other hand, was atrocious. With that win Sultan Khan extended his lead as Hamond lost again. Leading scores after nine rounds: Khan 7, Michell, Tylor, Drewitt, Hamond 5½. With two rounds to go the Championship was almost his – but he had yet to face the pre-tournament favourite. William Winter was on 5/9, with only an outside chance of the title, but there was much pride at stake. Winter had twice defeated him in the Gambit tournament in June and had been coaching Khan in the weeks before the tournament. I’m sure that he was keen to prove a point against this interloper on the British scene. That made for an interesting dynamic: as the pupil, Khan was the underdog; but he was leading the tournament with the title in sight, so there was pressure on both players. Sultan Khan W.Winter British Championship, Ramsgate (10) 8th August 1929 1.e4 c5 2.♗c4 e6 3.♘c3 a6

‘The opening was a Sicilian defence, developed in rather unusual fashion by the Indian representative, who played rapidly and with great confidence.’ (Western Daily Press)64 Playing rapidly does not always demonstrate great confidence. Khan has repeated his ineffective opening from their game at the Gambit which had continued 3…♘c6 4.♘f3 ♘f6 5.♕e2 d6 6.0-0 ♗e7 7.♗b5 ♗d7 8.♗xc6 ♗xc6 9.d4, with a roughly level game. That explains why Winter prevented the bishop moving to b5 and demonstrates his ambition. 4.a4 ♘c6 5.♘f3 ♘f6 6.♕e2 ♘d4 7.♘xd4 cxd4 8.♘b1 d5 9.exd5 ♘xd5 10.0-0 ♗e7 11.d3 0-0 12.♘d2 b6 13.♘f3 ♗f6 14.♕e4 ♗b7 15.♘xd4 ♕d7 16.♘f3 ♘c3 17.♕g4 ♘e2+ 18.♔h1 ♘xc1 19.♖axc1 b5 20.axb5 axb5 21.♗b3 ♗xb2 22.♖b1 ♗f6 23.♖fe1 ♕d6 24.♕g3 ♕xg3 25.hxg3

Winter’s opening strategy has been a success: the bishop on b3 remains out of play; Black’s sound kingside pawn structure and the tangible advantage of the two bishops represent a solid and permanent advantage. There is no pressure on his position, so it is possible to build up steadily and make the break at the right moment. Realistically, only two results are possible: either a win for Winter or a draw. 25…♗c3 26.♖e2 ♖fd8 27.♘g5 g6 28.♘e4 ♗d4 29.f3 h5 30.♔h2 ♔g7 31.f4 ♗c6 32.♘g5 ♖e8 33.♘f3 ♗c3 34.♔g1 ♖e7 35.♘g5 ♖ae8 36.♘e4 ♗d4+ 37.♔h2 f5 38.♘g5 e5 39.♔h3 e4 40.dxe4 fxe4 41.♔h2

Winter has carefully nurtured his advantage and established a strong passed

pawn. Khan is in trouble. The game must have been adjourned around this position and play resumed in the evening. It was at this point that the drama took place. The local newspaper reported that many of the players from the chess congress, ‘… enjoyed the buoyancy of the police sports in the grounds adjoining their own serene arena. When the young men and maidens on the lawn, in the evening, began tripping the light fantastic to the strains of lilting music supplied by the band of The Buffs’ Depot [the local military regiment] three pairs of the masters at chess were engrossed in the struggle for the championship, and when the jazz commenced the gymnasium doors were gently closed. Jazz and chess do not mix well.’65 Could the stuffy conditions inside the school gymnasium and the intruding music have played on Winter’s nerves at the end of this long session? Was Khan inured to these distractions by his afternoons in Simla playing beside a cacophonous band? 41…♗f6 42.♖d1 ♗xg5 43.fxg5 e3 44.♖d6 ♗d7 45.♗d5 ♗g4 46.♗f3 ♖d7 47.♖xd7+ ♗xd7 48.♖e1 b4 49.g4 hxg4 50.♗e2 ♗f5 51.♖b1 ♖e4 52.♔g3 ♔f7 53.c3 bxc3 54.♖c1 ♔e6 55.♖xc3 ♔e5 56.♖c5+ ♔d4 57.♖c4+ ♔d5 58.♖c1 ♖d4 59.♖c3 ♔e4 60.♖c7 ♖d2 61.♖e7+ ♔d4 62.♗xg4 ♗xg4 63.♔xg4 ♖xg2+ 64.♔f3 ♖f2+ 65.♔g3 ♖f5 66.♖e6 ♖xg5+ 67.♔f3 ♖f5+ 68.♔e2 ♖f2+ 69.♔e1 g5 70.♖g6 ♖g2 71.♔f1 e2+ 72.♔e1

Winter has achieved a winning position but was apparently ‘…exasperated by the Indian’s failure to resign in a hopeless position…’66 He should bring his king across to support the g-pawn: 72…♔e4 73.♖e6+ ♔f4 74.♖f6+ ♔g3, and so on, with a winning position. Instead… 72…♔e3?? 73.♖xg5 ½-½

If the rook is taken, stalemate. ‘Poor Willie, distraught in the extreme, ran up and down the hall tearing at his hair and swearing he would never play in the same tournament as Sultan Khan. He soon forgot this.’ (Golombek)67 A massive slice of luck, certainly, but it would not have occurred without Khan’s tenacity and concentration. Heading into the last round Khan was a full point clear of Michell, so just needed a draw to be sure of undisputed first place. He faced Arthur Eva, who was in last position in the tournament. The game was anything but smooth. A.Eva Sultan Khan British Championship, Ramsgate (11) 9th August 1929

1.d4 d5 2.c4 c6 3.♘c3 a6 4.cxd5 cxd5 5.♘f3 ♘c6 6.♗f4 ♘f6

Khan has repeated the same line as his game against Michell, but here Eva deviates first with… 7.h3

Preventing 7…♗g4, but a better way to do this is to play 7.♖c1, as in SoCarlsen, Stavanger 2018. 7…e6 8.e3 ♕b6

Khan has not learned the lesson of his game against Michell. In fact, throughout his career, Khan had a weakness for an early adventure with his queen in a variety of openings. In this case, it wastes time and encourages White to carry out his strategic plan of ♘a4-c5. Instead 8…♗d6, exchanging off the strong bishop on f4, is sensible. 9.♖b1 ♗b4 10.♗d3 ♗d7 11.0-0 ♖c8 12.♘a4 ♕a7 13.a3 ♗e7 14.b4 b6

Understandably, Khan does not wish to allow the knight into c5. But with this move he overlooks a tactic: 15.♗xa6, winning a pawn. Eva ignores this, but still retains a massive positional advantage – which he then proceeds to squander. 15.♕e2 ♘b8 16.♖fc1 0-0 17.♘c3 b5 18.♘e5 ♘c6 19.♗g5 h6 20.♗h4 ♗e8 21.♖b3 ♘e4 22.♗xe7 ♘xe7 23.♗b1 f6 24.♘d3 ♘xc3 25.♖bxc3 ♖xc3 26.♖xc3 ♗g6 27.♕d1 ♗xd3 28.♕xd3 f5 29.♖c5 ♖c8 30.f3 ♕b8 31.e4 ♖f8 32.♗a2 fxe4 33.fxe4 ♕f4 34.exd5 ♘xd5

Steering the game towards a dead draw. Khan could have won a piece with

34…♕f2+ 35.♔h2 ♕xa2, but he probably didn’t want to have to deal with the tricky 36.♕e4. 35.♔h1 ♕f2 36.♗xd5 exd5 37.♕c3 ♖e8 38.♖c8 ♕f1+ 39.♔h2 ♕f4+ 40.♔h1 ♕f1+ 41.♔h2 ♕f4+

Draw agreed. All’s well that ends well.68 It was reported that, ‘Sultan’s last opponent, Eva, put up a good defence against the Indian player, but Sultan needed only a draw and obtained that result amid general congratulations before the lunch time adjournment.’ It seems that the correspondent didn’t examine the game too closely. Instead of enjoying a well-earned rest, Khan was invited to play in a living chess display in the afternoon featuring school children dressed up in costumes playing on a giant board. He played against Dr Arpad Vajda, who had shared first in the Major Open tournament – and lost. I’m sure he just wanted to go back and rest.69

On the morning of Saturday 10th August, the closing ceremony was presided over by the president of the British Chess Federation, Canon A.G.Gordon Ross, and followed the stiff protocol of the time with a procession of speeches by officials and dignitaries all thanking each other for their good work. Nevertheless, the occasion was livened by the presence of Sir Umar, who had arrived in Ramsgate to witness, and take part in, Sultan’s coronation.70 The British Chess Magazine reported that: ‘The memorable victory of M. Sultan Khan is of peculiar appropriateness, as he hails from India, the traditional birthplace of chess, and this point was emphasised in dramatic fashion at the farewell meeting when Colonel Sir Nawab Umar Hayat Khan, a great patron of chess in India, moved several places across the platform in order to deliver an able speech from right by the side of Canon Gordon Ross, president of the British Federation. With his hand on the shoulder of the president, the Nawab gave refutation to Kipling’s lines: “East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet,” and in stirring manner alluded to the great value of his protégé’s victory in strengthening the bonds of Empire.’71

How typical of Sir Umar to take centre stage (literally), stealing some credit for Khan’s victory; and how ironic that he proclaims ‘the bonds of Empire’ as he breaches English social etiquette. One can just imagine the murmurs as this fierce warrior of a man, resplendent in eastern garments and elaborate turban, approached the president, a Church of England clergyman. Nevertheless, Khan had his moment: ‘Particular enthusiasm was aroused when M.Sultan Khan – a picturesque figure in snow-white turban – went up to receive the splendid crown that represents the blue riband of British Empire chess. In honour of his victory he also receives a gold medal, the gift of Sir Umar.’72 Other speakers also put Khan’s victory into political context. Sir Richard Barnett MP (former Irish Champion, and president of the House of Commons Chess Circle) declared that ‘Sultan Khan’s win was a splendid achievement for British and Imperial chess.’ As Khan’s English wasn’t good enough to give a speech, a certain Mr Bosworth Smith thanked the meeting on his behalf remarking that his victory ‘was a great gain for India, and opened the door for all members of the Empire’.73

This was also picked up in some newspaper reports. Under the heading ‘A BOND OF EMPIRE’, The Observer correspondent wrote: ‘Although the tournament has always been open to chess players of the whole Empire, this is the first occasion on which an overseas player has wrested the title from the British experts, and the success of an Indian is peculiarly gratifying to those who, like myself, believe that the International art of chess may prove a bond in bringing together the intelligentsia of England and the Eastern part of her Empire.’74 These blithe views of Empire are sweet and at the same time remarkably deluded when set against the widespread strikes, boycotts and mass protests taking place throughout India. When reading the pages of The Hindu or The Times of India, there is an underlying narrative that independence is inevitable. The intelligentsia of India, with which the Observer correspondent is so eager to connect, were concerning themselves with matters other than chess, namely the case for independence from the British Empire.

The reactions to Sultan Khan’s victory were mixed. In his memoirs, with characteristic frankness, Winter was later to write: ‘It must be confessed that he was extremely lucky. A wit suggested that he exercised some oriental hypnotic powers over his rivals, only Hamond, as a parson, being superior to the malign influence. I certainly never remember a championship with so many blunders – probably due to the excessive heat.’ Many newspapers noted the absence of the experienced Yates and Thomas. Yet only a few of the reports mentioned that Khan had been seriously ill. ‘Never of robust habit, Sultan complained of having been very unwell throughout the tournament at Ramsgate owing to cold winds and rain.’75 When others were complaining of the heat, Khan felt the cold. The weather must have turned at some point during the tournament and there isn’t much respite from the wind on the North Sea coast: this was many decades before double-glazing. Moreover ‘unwell’ is an understatement. ‘During the tournament at Ramsgate Sultan Khan, who contracted malaria in India, developed such a high temperature that it was considered necessary to scratch him, but he refused to submit to the ruling and persisted in continuing to play.’ (The Manchester Guardian)76 Viewed in this light, Khan’s performance was remarkable. The British Chess Magazine noted that he was indebted to his companion interpreter, Syed Akbar Shah, who ‘nursed him during his illness, kept him posted with information and was often to be seen translating Press reports to him.’77 Regarding the opposition, the absent Yates and Thomas were regarded as the best British players at that time, but you can only beat what is in front of you. The competitors in the Championship very much reflected the British chess scene at that time.

Hamond was a clergyman. Michell worked for the Admiralty. Fairhurst was at the start of a highly successful career as a civil engineer.78 Drewitt was a classicist at Oxford. Theodore Tylor was a lawyer and had a distinguished academic career at Oxford.79 Abrahams was an undergraduate in law at Oxford. They were all gifted individuals who had the opportunity to play chess at a high level, but the game was always a secondary pursuit to their career. Professionalism, with all that entails – the ‘win at all cost’ attitude, the style of play, as well as the inevitable abandonment of a serious career – was anathema to the elite in Britain. The amateur attitude to sport emerged in the 19th century from the elite British public schools: games should be played for their own sake, and not for a monetary reward; they should be played fairly, and respect shown to opponents and to the referee; flair and daring were encouraged. The idea was to develop character and to breed a group of men (yes, always men) who could be sent out to run the Empire in the proper way, with the right values and the appropriate sense of duty. Such an attitude also fostered a kind of snobbishness: amateurs were gentlemen; professionals clearly were not. By the late 1920s the world was changing fast, but old views died hard. There was a splendidly snotty newspaper article written by the Headmaster of Eton published, coincidentally, just after Sultan Khan’s arrival in England, entitled ‘Those Tyrants the Experts – pity the poor amateurs in a world ruled by Champions’ ‘… at the bottom of our hearts we strongly prefer the amateur. It is but a symptom of the tyranny under which we groan that this word, which really (as has often been observed) implies nothing but a genuine love of the subject, has passed at the dictation of the experts into something very like a term of abuse. It seems hard, but experts are ruthless people, and their baleful influence extends over all our activities, and not least over our recreations. It is a truism to say that as soon as a game falls into the hands of an expert it is ruined. The experts play everything so well that the ordinary player is driven from the field. It had never occurred to most of us that chess was too easy a game, but the experts are desperately trying to

invent some new complications which will render it worth their continuing to play… The pill for some of us is no easier to swallow because it comes across the Atlantic, and is stamped with the American mark…’ (Dr Alington, Headmaster of Eton, Evening Standard, Monday 29th April) There was no distinction in chess between the amateur and the professional: there wasn’t enough money to support a huge band of professional players, and no one was disbarred for collecting a prize. The amateur spirit of play pervaded the British chess scene, as we can see from the Observer correspondent’s comments after the first week’s play in Ramsgate: ‘The British Championship Tournament has been marked throughout the week by a number of short and sparkling games, many of them of an extremely brilliant order. In fact, the whole tournament is an objectlesson to those who have complained that modern first-class play is of the dull and stodgy type. Very few long games have been played, and although, naturally, the Queen’s Pawn opening has been predominant, the vast majority of the games have been decided by King’s side play.’80 If a game is ‘short’, the defence cannot have been ‘sparkling’ and doesn’t that detract from the brilliance of the game? And apparently the only honourable way to conduct a game of chess is to attack the opponent’s king. I fear that many of Khan’s games, involving dogged defence and patient manoeuvring, might have been described by this correspondent as of the ‘dull and stodgy type’. There is also an underlying anti-intellectual stance to this attitude. One can imagine that the Observer correspondent would have had an instinctive suspicion of continentals such as Nimzowitsch, Réti and Breyer, with their new-fangled Hypermodern systems, even though these ground-breaking strategic concepts were beginning to score notable successes. The Empire might have been won on the playing fields of Eton, but on the chessboards of central Europe, the Brits were getting out-manoeuvred and outclassed. In the Carlsbad tournament that clashed with the British

Championship, Fred Yates came 17th and Sir George Thomas was 21st – out of 22 players. Even in Ramsgate, in the Major Open (the subsidiary tournament alongside the British Championship), the top four prize winners came from abroad. As one correspondent lamented, ‘Seitz, Vajda, Vukovic, and Noteboom seemed, indeed, to be in a different class to the Britishers, whose play in the main was very poor.’81 There were only two true professional chess players in Britain, William Winter and Fred Yates, and they could only support themselves by writing, teaching and giving simultaneous exhibitions. Winter was critical of the English chess scene, complaining that the chess correspondents of the main national newspapers were ‘pin-money amateurs’, depriving true professionals such as Yates and himself of a steady income. Incidentally, Sir George Thomas might have been one of the strongest players in the country, but he was a ‘gentleman amateur’: he had inherited a baronetcy (and a private income) and playing chess was a serious pastime, but he did not depend on the game for his livelihood.

The Chess Amateur: the proud title of an English magazine from the late 1920s.

Considering the largely amateurish chess scene in England it is possible to see how even an inexperienced player such as Sultan Khan could make such a big impression. Was Khan ‘lucky’? Yes, Khan’s opponents made blunders against him, but what kind of pressure were they put under at the board? What made the difference for Sultan Khan in Ramsgate was his concentration, temperament, and tenacity, qualities only underlined by his illness. Khan was handicapped by a practically non-existent opening repertoire. Apart from his ignorance of theory, in these early Western games it is striking how often he underestimates the factor of time in the opening, a hangover from the slower-paced Indian game. Tuition in the openings from Winter and Yates only confirmed that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. If he was to make progress, he would have to remedy this part of his game. His openings were poor, but his middlegame and endgame were much better. Sometimes he made errors of judgment, but he made no gross tactical oversights, and was alert to exploiting his opponents’ blunders. The British Chess Magazine reported that Khan won a lightning tournament in the middle of the event – which is further evidence that he had a very quick sight of the board. The Press Association interviewed Khan (with the help of his interpreter) and this was reproduced in many newspapers: ‘By religion a Mohammedan, Sultan is a strict abstainer, and lives chiefly on a milk diet. He smokes an occasional cigarette while playing, and refreshes himself with frequent sips of lemonade. He has the ideal chess temperament, and remains quite unperturbed whether in victory or defeat. The new British champion proposes to make his home in England for five years and to devote himself entirely to the practice of chess. He will play as representative in any continental tournaments to which he may be invited, and as he has not yet reached his full strength further successes are doubtless before him.’82 Back in India, the tone went beyond optimistic and morphed into ebullience.

There was certainly no mention of ‘Bonds of Empire’ – this was an Indian success and clearly one in the eye for their imperial masters: ‘That the Indian player will not stop at this interesting stage is certain. Contact with other international players is indicated – and with the experience and necessary practice gained by such encounters fresh laurels for India. And there is the championship of the world to come after. All India will watch with interest Sultan Khan’s chess career.’ (The Hindu newspaper)83

CHAPTER 6

On Parade

The Times of India, 17 August 1929. William Wedgwood Benn was the Secretary of State for India, 1929-1931.

Sultan Khan returned to London as champion – and was paraded by Sir Umar in front of the great and good. On 25th August they both attended a luncheon at the Indian Social Club in honour of Sir Mohammed Habibullah, a member of the Executive Council of the Viceroy of India. Also present were the Indian delegates to the League of Nations, some members of the Indian Central Committee, and Dr Drummond Shiels, a Labour MP who served as Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State for India. The assembled company was about to be photographed when they were disturbed by anti-Simon protestors led by Shapurji Saklatvala, the wellknown communist agitator (he was in the vanguard of demonstrators when the commission returned to the country in April – see ‘A Passage to England’). Threatening to smash the camera, he declared that the Members of the Central Committee were boycotted in India and ought to be boycotted here

too. It was a little reminder that the Anglo-Indian bubble in London was a long way from the realities of India and, although not an active participant in politics, Sultan Khan was associated with an Indian establishment that remained loyal to the crown.84 Sir John Simon was still keeping a close interest in Sultan Khan, perhaps even more so, now that his protégé had won the British Championship, and they played regularly at the National Liberal Club ‘with Sir John not always rising as the loser’.85 Such off-hand games were pretty much the extent of Khan’s chess activity for the time being. The British Championship had been the only event planned for Khan when he had arrived in April, and the tournament circuit was not well developed, either on the continent or in England. A pause in serious chess was probably no bad thing: there was much in his play that needed remedying. Nevertheless, plans were afoot to test Khan. Capablanca sent word from the tournament in Carlsbad that he intended to visit Hastings next Christmas to play in the annual tournament. He had last played there at the so-called Victory congress of 1919. ‘This will be a great attraction, and if Sultan Khan can also be induced to play the meeting will be a memorable one.’ (The Hastings and St. Leonards Observer)86 Meanwhile a challenge of a different kind was organised by the president of the Imperial Chess Club, Mrs Rawson. A simultaneous display took place on Saturday 28th September 1929 at the newly opened Grosvenor House Hotel on Park Lane with proceeds to be donated to St. Dunstan’s Home for the Blind. This was probably the first time that Khan had given such an exhibition. A few months before, when he arrived in England, he was one of the amateurs, seated on the outside of the circle. Now he stood in the middle as the star of the performance. There were 33 boards. Play began at 3.15pm and proceeded slowly. The Sunday Times reported on the following day: ‘The Queen’s pawn opening was selected by Sultan Khan on nearly all the boards. The opening scarcely lends itself to early “brilliances,” but in selecting it the Indian was only following in the footsteps of Lasker,

Capablanca, and Alekhine, who, having almost invariably to play simultaneously against very strong teams, find it more prudent to adopt safe openings, rather than King’s gambits, Evans gambits, Danish gambits, etc., the practice in vogue in the days when amateurs were not as good, on the average, as they are now. The disadvantage of the present-day practice is that the openings make for longer games, with the result that many games have to be adjudicated when the allotted time for an exhibition expires. Yesterday’s display proved no exception in this respect. Sultan Khan made his moves on the various boards with commendable rapidity, and quite free from nervousness or undue excitement. After three hours’ play, however, only ten games were finished – without a loss to the master. His first loss was registered just before the call of “time,” Mr Wreford-Brown, who had played a very able counter-attacking game, being the winner.’87 Sultan Khan C.Wreford-Brown Simultaneous display, Grosvenor House 1929

position after 10…♖f8xf5

Normally, in a simultaneous display, the chess master aims for positional

advantages where moves can fit in with a general strategy, do not require deep calculation, and can therefore be made quickly. Complex tactical positions require calculation – which takes time and can easily go wrong under such pressured conditions. Here Khan makes a naïve choice. 11.g4

Even if this were objectively strong, it is inadvisable in a simultaneous display. Instead, the uncomplicated 11.♘g3 ♘xg3 12.hxg3, followed by ♗d3, gives White a safe positional advantage and easy play. 11…♖xf3 12.♗xb6 ♗xg4 13.h3 ♗f5 14.♗f2 ♗h4 15.♘g3 ♖xf2 16.♔xf2 ♘xg3 17.♔g2 ♕g5

… with a winning attack. Charles Wreford-Brown – captain of the English football team and first-class cricketer – was also strong enough on the chessboard to play in the British Championship in 1933. He embodied the amateur spirit of the age. At 7.30pm unfinished games were adjudicated; it’s not clear how many had to be decided like this. The final result: 26 wins for Khan, 3 draws and 4 losses, to Miss W.M.Brown, F.W.Chambers, E.Irving and C.Wreford-Brown. This was one of the games decided by adjudication. Sultan Khan E.Irving Simultaneous display, Grosvenor House 1929

position after 20…♔c8-b7

Ernest Irving, the chess correspondent of The Illustrated London News (and better known as a musical conductor and composer), had employed a gambit which Khan had negotiated reasonably well, though the position was messy. If Khan plays the preparatory 21.♕b5, preventing Black’s queen from returning to the fray, then he stands to win a pawn and has an excellent position. Instead, sensing that the initiative had turned his way, Khan moved onto the attack for the first time in the game. At a quick glance – and that is all there is time for in a simul – threatening mate in one is tempting, but he had overlooked a powerful reply: 21.♘e4? ♕a5

Now it is his opponent’s turn to threaten mate. 22.♘d2 ♕xe5 23.♘f3 ♕f4+ 24.♔b1 d3 25.cxd3 ♕f5 26.♘e5 ♘d7 27.g4 ♕xf2 28.♘c4

‘and Black won (on adjudication after picking up another pawn).’ (The Observer) Irving reported on the event in his chess column, but modestly did not publish his own win. While calling Khan’s first ever simultaneous display ‘an undoubted success’, he shrewdly noted that: ‘The new champion has not yet acquired that facility in the openings which is necessary for rapid simultaneous display’. There is a knack to giving simuls, and one ploy is to essay tricky opening

variations with the aim of catching out a few players quickly. For an object lesson in this strategy, look at Garry Kasparov’s finely-tuned opening repertoire especially concocted for these displays. Knocking out a few players quickly gives the professional a fillip and speeds up the round, putting pressure on the amateurs who have to move more quickly. Khan’s opening repertoire was virtually non-existent, and certainly did not contain the kind of killer variations that would be at the mental finger-tips of others of his calibre. With 33 players to face down, it’s no wonder he was squeezed for time.88 A week after this display Khan gave another at the Highbury Club ‘where some excellent chess was played though he dropped 5 points’.89 Considering these were his first simultaneous exhibitions, the results weren’t at all bad. Khan was later to say that he didn’t believe he possessed a special talent for these displays, and that the odds were stacked against the simultaneous player. In his view, whoever could apply the greater concentration should win. A characteristically modest statement.90 At the end of the British Chess Magazine report on these displays, there was a surprise announcement: ‘[Sultan Khan] is shortly returning to India for a few months, but hopes to be back in England in the spring.’ Sir Umar was returning to India, and therefore Khan had to go with him – it was that simple. Given the Nawab’s successful entry into the realms of government and London society in general, why was he returning home? This is uncertain, but it is quite possible that this return trip was planned from the outset, and Sir Umar’s political appointment in June had simply come as a surprise. This announcement was made at the end of September, yet they didn’t leave until the end of November 1929, probably because of Sir Umar’s governmental duties. The day before they were to leave, Sir Umar had an audience with The Prince of Wales (the future Edward VIII) at St James’s Palace. The timing cannot have been coincidental and sounds like a neat piece of diplomatic flattery on the part of the British establishment to keep

Sir Umar on side. Sir Umar Hayat Khan, Sultan Khan, and the rest of the retinue, left London on 27th November, taking the boat train to cross the English Channel, then travelling down to Marseilles where they embarked on the ship to Bombay. On 29th December, The Hindu newspaper announced: ‘The British Champion has now gone to the Punjab’.

CHAPTER 7

Tedious Play – Scarborough 1930 ‘He is a cultured student and undoubtedly a strong player, excelling particularly in the end game, where Oriental subtlety has a fine field.’ – Lancashire Evening Post Sultan Khan had disappeared without trace. His will to win was certainly missed at the annual Hastings tournament after Christmas where one of the donors had complained about the high number of draws. Capablanca and Vidmar took the first two places by drawing pacifically against each other and winning a few games against the English amateurs. A familiar story. Three months later, to the surprise of organisers and competitors, Sir Umar Hayat Khan and Sultan Khan appeared at the opening ceremony of the Canterbury Easter Chess Congress. The British Chess Magazine wrote with regret that ‘[Sultan Khan’s] return from India with the suite of Colonel the Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan was unexpected or else he would have been invited to take part.’ In fact, the return had already been heralded in British newspapers in March. It was announced that Sultan Khan had accepted an invitation to play in the Scarborough International Tournament in June, and would also be part of the British Empire team that would participate in the Hamburg Olympiad in July. On the first trip to London in 1929, Sir Umar and his household had stayed – at considerable expense – in a hotel in the fashionable West End of London; this time they economised (to a certain extent) by renting a permanent home at 6 Albert Road, on the north side of Regents Park. The grand and centrally located Georgian town-house became a magnet for guests, particularly with such a generous host as Sir Umar. At weekends there was virtually ‘open house’, with the Nawab the centre of attention, gathering together the elite of the Indian community in London. The remarkable photograph on the next page shows such an occasion. In the

bottom left with the turban, Sir Umar Hayat Khan, comfortable and proud. In the top left, Sultan Khan – reluctant to push himself forward in such distinguished and educated company. Standing in the centre, Choudhry Rahmat Ali, whose historic pamphlet ‘Now or Never’ (1933), proposing a Muslim state, was partly penned in Sir Umar’s house. This was the first occasion that the name of the new state, Pakistan, an acronym of five provinces in North-West India (Punjab, Afghan, Kashmir, Sind and Baluchistan) was recorded.

A gathering of the Indian community at Sir Umar’s residence.

Sultan Khan had returned to London on 11th April 1930, and the very next day was in action on the chessboard for the Imperial Chess Club against the National Liberal Club, defeating Sir Richard Barnett MP, a former Irish chess champion, but now advancing in years. On 20th May, Khan and Sir Umar were part of a team for the Imperial Chess Club that played a match versus Lord Kylsant’s Companies on board the ship The Llangibby Castle in Tilbury docks. Sultan Khan drew with W.Veitch – an English amateur who much later played in the British Championship.91 From the photograph, in the British Chess Magazine, one

can see that many of the participants enjoyed a jolly good day out; but Sultan Khan may have had mixed feelings. He would have been on parade as British Chess Champion, enduring a formal lunch with unfamiliar and unappetising food, and yet more stultifying and incomprehensible speeches, all for one game of chess against mediocre opposition in odd surroundings. It’s highly likely that in the time before the Scarborough tournament Khan received more tuition. Gerald Abrahams, one of his competitors in the British Championship in 1929, later published a training game, and it was probably played around this time. G.Abrahams Sultan Khan Practice game 1930

Khan was trying out a Nimzo-Indian, stepping away from his more predic​table Queen’s Gambit Declined, but an opening where one slip can be fatal. 13…♗xc4 14.♘e4 ♗xd5 15.♗g5 ♕c7 16.♘d6+ ♔f8 17.c4 ♗b7 18.f4 f5 19.♕h5 g6 20.♕h4 h6 21.♗e7+ ♔g7 22.♗f6+ ♔h7 23.♘f7 ♖f8 24.♘g5

checkmate.92 Dreadful. Whatever Sultan Khan had been doing in India, it wasn’t studying openings.

Meanwhile, Sir Umar resumed his duties as a member of the Council of India and threw himself back into London society. Just before leaving London in November 1929, he had been received by the Prince of Wales at St James’s Palace. This time he went one better and on May 13th was invited to Buckingham Palace by King George V. This was a re-acquaintance. They had met on at least two previous occasions: at the Delhi Durbar in 1911 when Sir Umar was assistant herald, and during World War I in Flanders. The British establishment was maintaining its charm offensive, and Sir Umar was a willing and enthusiastic participant in the charade. As ever, he made the most of his moment in the limelight, dressing in a green and gold robe with a gold turban, carrying a long sword.93 Civil unrest was growing in the sub-continent and the British needed Indian allies. After a period of relative inactivity, Gandhi had taken the initiative again with his Salt March at the beginning of April 1930. As a protest against the British tax on salt production, he had marched to the sea with thousands of supporters and, in front of journalists from around the world, picked up a handful of salt from the beach, waved his fist in the air and declared: ‘With this, I’m shaking the foundations of the British Empire’. He was immediately arrested. Later in the day, a group of Gandhi’s supporters had marched on a local salt production site. They had advanced slowly in an orderly column but, line by line, were beaten down by Indian police. Following Gandhi’s non-violent principles, they offered no resistance, they did not fight and there was no struggle. At the end of the day, two people were dead and 320 injured. An American journalist, Webb Miller, witnessed the events and the next day his report had been printed in newspapers around the world. In the eyes of the international community the British had lost their moral authority to rule, and civil disobedience grew in India. Gandhi and his campaign of Satyagraha (truth force) was winning the argument. Back in London the Simon Commission published its two-volume report over May and June 1930, but its hesitant governmental and constitutional reforms already appeared irrelevant in the light of events. The commission recommended the establishment of representative government in the provinces. Separate elections for Hindus and Muslims were to be retained, but only until tensions between the communities had died

down, which sounds like a classic British fudge: a difficult decision was avoided by pushing it into the future but, in the process, few were satisfied. The proposals were rejected by all major parties in India. The leadership of the Indian National Congress demanded dominion status for India, while the more radical wing of the party wanted complete independence. The Muslim League also rejected the Commission’s proposal as they felt it did not guarantee their community’s safety. In the wake of the Commission’s report, an India Round Table Conference was announced for November 1930 in an attempt to resolve the issues. Continuing its campaign of non-cooperation, the Congress party, the main opposition to British rule in India, refused to take part: with most of the Congress leadership imprisoned by the British, this was hardly unexpected. On the other hand, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the head of the Muslim League, already living and working in London as a barrister, was more than willing to engage with the British. With the Congress party absent, this was a perfect opportunity to promote the interests of the Muslim minority.

Scarborough 23rd June – 4th July 1930 As the International Team Tournament was taking place in Hamburg in July, the British Chess Federation decided not to hold a national championship, but instead to organise a congress in June with an international tournament as the main event. The foreign invitees were Rubinstein, Maroczy, Grünfeld, Colle, Ahues and originally Tartakower – but he had to withdraw due to illness and was replaced by Vera Menchik, the Women’s World Champion. Yates, Thomas, Winter, Sergeant, Michell and Sultan Khan made up the ‘British’ contingent. This was a severe test for Khan as, apart from a few club games and simultaneous exhibitions, this was his first tournament for 11 months – we have no record of him competing on his return to India. Would he be able to answer those who felt he had been lucky in last year’s British championship? How would he fare against the top two British players, Yates and Thomas, who had both been absent? Like last year there was much interest in Khan. As one newspaper put it: ‘One of the most romantic figures at the tournament will be the

turbaned Mir Sultan Khan, who […] came to England last year and carried off the British championship at the first asking. He is a cultured student and undoubtedly a strong player, excelling particularly in the end game, where Oriental subtlety has a fine field.’94 As we have already seen, the stereotypes projected onto Khan aren’t entirely accurate. He must have disliked the attention he had received in Ramsgate and sought to assimilate by adopting western dress. As was later reported: ‘It turns out, however, that for this occasion Sultan Khan has abandoned his picturesque Indian costume, and appears in European dress which suits him admirably.’95 Khan easily defeated an English amateur, E.G.Sergeant, in the first round, confirmation of his form from last summer. Before delving into his next game, let us make a short digression for a graphic eye-witness report of the tournament’s second round that was published in the Yorkshire Evening Post on 24th June 1930: WHERE SOUND IS A CRIME Great Chess Masters Meet At Scarborough (From our own correspondent) Scarborough, Tuesday Isolated amid all the gaieties, bustle and noise of “Home Week” at Scarborough, one room stands aloof. Here, sound is a crime. Here, in this room at the Grand Hotel, sit more than 100 people – men and women, and even children – amid the soothing atmosphere of tobacco smoke, the silence broken by the rhythmic ticking of a hundred clocks. This mysterious chamber is the scene of the annual congress of the British Chess Federation, where some of the greatest brains of the world are matched across small green tables. Their brains are working as ceaselessly as the clocks are ticking, relentlessly planning the capture of a pawn, or the overpowering massing of pieces.

Through the windows in the sunshine there are seen the alluring expanse of beach and the decorated Spa, while in the bay lie three giant battleships of the Atlantic Fleet. But such things are not for the players. Chess reigns supreme. A whispered “check” ruffles the silence for a second. In one corner is a rope enclosure where 12 of the greatest masters of the game strive for supremacy. There is the slight dark figure of Sultan Khan, the British champion. With as much imperturbability as the onlookers show, he seeks to thwart the scheme of Rubinstein, who yesterday defeated R.P.Michell, the runner-up in last year’s British championship. Rubinstein is calm and undisturbed, with his hands between his knees, finger tips to finger tips. British Champions Then there are the two British ex-champions, Sir George Thomas and F.D.Yates, neither of whom was playing in the championship last year, so Sultan Khan will have to look to laurels when he meets them. Sir George is playing Miss Vera Menchik, the young Russian girl, now naturalised, who has made remarkable progress during the last few years. She is the only woman in the master tourney having been promoted there on the illness of Dr Tartakower. Sir George, with mouth set firmly, studies the board. Nothing can ruffle him except the heinous crime of noise, on which, with a gentle “Hush,” he will reprove the offender. They all have their little characteristics, these masters of chess. Yates, facing Mitchell [sic], moves his jaws silently and unceasingly as he studies the board; Sultan Khan sits with his hands clasped in his lap, playing with his fingers, and Winter, the clever London player, wears a perpetual worried look. He has just drawn his game with Serjeant [sic] after only 13 moves. Then there is Colle, the Belgian player, ever immaculate, with hair brushed neatly back. He sits with one hand over his mouth, his left foot beating a silent tattoo on the carpet… This second-round game was a new challenge for Sultan Khan. He faced Akiba Rubinstein, one of the strongest chess players in the world in the first

couple of decades of the century and even at this time, although less consistent, capable of playing at the highest level. For once, the opening phase of the game ran well for the Indian and from a modest, but sound, start he developed a pawn storm against Rubinstein’s king. The watching journalists were impressed: Indian Puzzles Rubinstein The feature of the second round of the Masters’ Tournament today was the fine play of Sultan Khan against Rubinstein. The Indian master seems to have improved greatly in the short interval since, with very little experience of European chess, he carried off the British championship at Ramsgate. Today, with the white pieces in a Ruy Lopez opening, he had the great Polish master, who usually plays with so much ease and confidence, puzzled almost from the beginning. The middle game was hard for both players, and to add to Rubinstein’s difficulties he became very short of time. With great efforts, however, he maintained something like equality, and the game at the midday adjournment was in a critical position, from which almost any result might occur. (The Scotsman) Sultan Khan A.Rubinstein Scarborough International Tournament (2) 24th June 1930 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.♗b5 a6 4.♗a4 ♘f6 5.d3 d6 6.h3 b5 7.♗b3 ♘a5 8.♘c3 ♗e7 9.♗e3 0-0 10.♕e2 ♖e8 11.g4 ♘xb3 12.axb3 b4 13.♘a4 c5 14.♘d2 ♘d7 15.0-0-0 ♗b7 16.♖hf1 d5 17.exd5 ♗xd5 18.f3 ♕c7 19.♕f2 ♖ac8 20.♖de1 ♘f8 21.h4 ♘e6 22.g5 ♕c6 23.♕g3 ♗d6 24.♕g4 ♘f4 25.♘e4 ♗xe4 26.fxe4 ♖e6 27.h5 ♖ce8 28.♔b1 ♔h8 29.♕g1 ♖c8 30.♕h1 ♔g8 31.♕f3 ♔h8 32.♖c1 ♕b5 33.♖fd1 ♔g8

The position is complex and finely balanced. Khan could sit tight, and Black can make no progress; but, typically, he wants to play for a win. Perhaps emboldened by Rubinstein’s time shortage he opens the queenside and sets up a dangerous central pawn roller. Over the next few moves the advantage swings back and forth, but finally Khan’s initiative dissolves as the central pawns hit the buffer. 34.c3 ♖d8 35.♗xf4

35.d4! is better, undermining the knight’s support. 35…exf4 36.d4 c4 37.cxb4 cxb3

The game was adjourned here, so presumably Khan sealed the next move.96

38.♕xb3

Bringing the knight back into play with 38.♘c5! is better. 38…♕xb4 39.♕xb4 ♗xb4 40.♖c4

40.♘c5! is stronger. 40…♗e7 41.d5 ♗xg5 42.♘c5 ♖b6 43.e5 ♔f8 44.♘e4

44.d6! 44…h6 45.d6 ♖b5 46.♖c5

46.♘c5! 46…f3

46…♖b4! 47.♖f1? ♗f4 48.♖xb5 axb5 49.e6 ♗xd6 50.♖xf3 f6 51.♘c3 ♗e5 52.♘xb5 ♔e7 53.♘c3 ♔xe6 54.♔c2 f5

Rubinstein has consolidated his position and with the help of king, bishop and rook finally succeeded in promoting the f-pawn, forcing the win. As ever, Khan put up enormous resistance and the game only finished at midnight after 82 moves.97 It was a pity that Khan wasn’t rewarded for his bold play. Was he moving too quickly? It certainly looks like it in the phase after the adjournment. Round 3 provided another test for Khan: he faced one of the players who had been absent from the British Championship the previous year, Fred Yates. However, those looking forward to a great fight between the British champions of 1928 and 1929 would have been disappointed.

F.D.Yates Sultan Khan Scarborough International Tournament (3) 25th June 1930 1.e4 c5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.d4 cxd4 4.♘xd4 e5

‘Owing to his inexperience of European methods, Sultan’s fine natural style is a little obscured in the opening stages of the game. Against Yates he conducted a Sicilian with the rather startling anachronism 4…P-K4.’ (British Chess Magazine) This opening had enjoyed brief periods of popularity in the 19th century, occasionally essayed by De La Bourdonnais, Staunton, and the man who gave the opening its name, Löwenthal. We can only guess where Khan gained inspiration for the move. In any case, this is more evidence that he had been working on his openings, and in this case the outcome is successful. Later in the 20th century the opening was to achieve respectability of sorts when championed by the Russian, Evgeny Sveshnikov, and dubbed the ‘Kalashnikov’. Recently, even Magnus Carlsen has played it. However, in the 1920s and 1930s, this opening was very much out of fashion. 5.♘b3

Hardly the most critical move, but perhaps Yates has a memory of it from a game in the Schlechter-Lasker World Championship match 1910. 5…♘f6 6.♘c3 ♗b4 7.♗d3 d5

Once Black achieves this pawn break, liberating his pieces, he has a completely satisfactory position. 8.exd5 ♘xd5 9.♗d2 ♘xc3 10.bxc3 ♗e7

Game 9 of the Schlechter-Lasker match had continued: 10…♗d6 11.♕h5 ♕c7 12.0-0 ♗e6 13.♗g5 h6 14.f4 exf4 15.♖ae1 with enormous complications. 11.♕h5 ♗e6 12.0-0 ♕c7 13.♗e3 0-0-0?

Mistake. Instead, 13…g6 14.♕e2 0-0 15.f4 f5 is better for Black. 14.♘c5??

14.♗f5! ♔b8 15.♗xe6 fxe6 16.♕g4 is better for White. 14…♗xc5 15.♗xc5 ♖d5 16.♗e3 e4

Winning a piece. Despite Yates’s best efforts, Khan kept control of the game and forced resignation on move 42. Yates was wrong-footed by the opening but, by any standards, this was an awful blunder. In the fourth round Sultan Khan faced another continental opponent: Carl Ahues was the reigning German champion and a highly experienced tournament player. Sultan Khan C.Ahues Scarborough International Tournament (4) 26th June 1930

1.e4 e5 2.♗c4 ♘f6 3.d3 ♘c6 4.♘c3 ♗b4

5.a3

We are back to opening improvisation. Once again Khan shows a disregard for the element of time in the opening although, in such a gentle position, he isn’t risking much. The Vienna is not particularly testing, but strong players occasionally use it to avoid the well-trodden tracks of other openings. 5.♘ge2, 5.♘f3, and 5.♗g5 – bringing pieces into the game rather than making another pawn move – are the most common moves here. 5…♗xc3+ 6.bxc3 d5 7.exd5 ♘xd5 8.♘e2 0-0 9.0-0 ♗e6 10.♗d2 ♘ce7

Moving backwards is a bit odd. 10…♕d7 connects the rooks and looks normal. 11.f4 ♘xf4 12.♗xf4 ♗xc4 13.♗xe5 ♗d5 14.c4 ♗c6 15.♕d2 ♘g6 16.♗g3 ♖e8 17.♖ae1 ♕d7 18.c3 ♖ad8 19.♘d4 ♘f8

19…♗a4 would have saved Black a lot of trouble. 20.♕f4 ♘e6 21.♘xe6 ♖xe6 22.d4 ♗a4 23.♖xe6 fxe6 24.♕xc7 ♕xc7 25.♗xc7 ♖d7 26.♗e5 ♗b3 27.c5

27…♖f7 28.♖b1

Exchanging rooks would inevitably lead to a draw. Over the next few moves Khan patiently improves his position, preventing Black’s rook from finding activity, and gradually advancing in the middle. 28…♗c4 29.h3 h6 30.♗b8 a6 31.♗g3 ♔h7 32.♗f2!

32.♖b4? ♖f1+ 33.♔h2 ♗d5. 32…♗d5 33.♖b4 ♗c6

33…♗a2 offers better chances of resistance, as once White gets in c4, it is hard for the rook to move. 34.c4 ♔g6

35.♖b3

Next step. The rook is repositioned to a better square. 35…♖d7 36.♖e3 ♔f7 37.♖e5 ♔f6

The d5 breakthrough has been covered, so it’s time for White to gain ground elsewhere. 38.h4

The squeeze starts on the kingside. 38…♗a4 39.♖e3 h5 40.♗g3 ♗c6 41.♗e5+ ♔f7 42.♔h2 ♔g6 43.♔g1 ♔f7 44.♖g3 g6

The pieces have been shuffled again and the bishop has managed to return to the dream square in the middle of the board. The next stage is for the rook to gain entry into Black’s position. 45.♖e3 ♔e8 46.♗d6 ♔f7 47.♖e2 ♗a4 48.♖f2+ ♔g8 49.♖f6

Winning a second pawn and effectively the game. 49…♗b3 50.♖xg6+ ♖g7 51.♖xe6 ♗xc4 52.♖e8+ ♔f7 53.♖e5 ♔g6 54.♖g5+ 1-0

After 54…♔f7 55.♖xh5, White would have three extra pawns. Very patiently played. The opening was mediocre, but Khan showed excellent technique in the endgame where he was in his element. Unfortunately, this kind of chess wasn’t readily appreciated by the home crowd. The splendidly ignorant headline in the Yorkshire Evening Post ran: TEDIOUS PLAY IN THE PRINCIPAL TOURNEY Play was very long drawn out at the annual congress of the British Chess Federation […] This was particularly the case in the masters’ tourney, in which not a single round game was completed. In the end, five of those six adjourned games ended decisively, but by that stage the correspondent had clearly lost interest. Even the British Chess Magazine’s report betrays a slight impatience with Khan’s methods: ‘Ahues lost one pawn and had another isolated, though he managed to retain odd bishops. Each side still had a rook, so that the game could be

won, though this was a long process’. Leading scores after four rounds: Rubinstein 3½, Colle, Khan 3 points. Khan’s fifth-round opponent was sixty years old but enjoying a second career in chess. In the earlier part of the century he had played against the world’s leading players and had built up considerable knowledge and experience. Maroczy was a cultured player. G.Maroczy Sultan Khan Scarborough International Tournament (5) 27th June 1930 1.e4 e6 2.d4 d5 3.♘c3 ♗b4 4.exd5 exd5 5.♗d3 c5 6.dxc5 d4 7.a3 ♗a5 8.b4 dxc3 9.bxa5 ♕xa5 10.♗e3 ♘f6 11.♘e2 ♘c6 12.0-0 ♘d5 13.♗d4 ♗e6 14.♕e1

If Black castles kingside, I see no difficulties at all: his king is safe and minor pieces stand well. Instead, Khan played… 14…0-0-0

… and once again underestimated the potential danger to his king. Khan certainly had an inclination to castle on the opposite side to his opponent. 15.♗xc3 ♕xc5 16.♗d2 ♖he8 17.♕b1 ♗g4 18.♖e1 ♘e5 19.♘f4 ♘xd3 20.cxd3 ♔b8 21.♕b3 ♗e6 22.♘xe6 fxe6 23.♖e4 ♖c8 24.♖b1 b6 25.♖c4

♕d6 26.a4 a6 27.♗b4 ♕d7 28.♗a5

White makes the breakthrough and the writing is on the wall. Maroczy is too experienced to fall for any of the tactics afterwards, and coolly holds his advantage. 28…♔a8 29.♗xb6 ♖b8 30.a5 ♖ec8 31.♕c2 ♕b7 32.g3 h5 33.h4 ♖f8 34.♕e2 ♖f6 35.♕xh5 ♖bf8 36.♖b2 ♘e3 37.♖e4 ♖f5 38.♕e2 ♖xf2 39.♕xf2 ♖xf2 40.♖xf2 ♘f5 41.♖xf5 1-0

Castling queenside was simply irresponsible. The British Chess Magazine’s comment on the game is odd: ‘The Indian followed up his very hazardous-looking 5…P-QB4 with an admirable tactical display, such as often characterises his performance. He fully extended Maroczy…’ In the previous round there was frustration at the length of Khan’s game; here there is admiration for the early complications – even though his strategy led to defeat! Scores after five rounds: Colle 4 points, Rubinstein, Maroczy 3½, Khan 3. Khan had a much easier time against the Women’s World Champion in the next round. He played the Exchange Variation against the Caro-Kann, a good practical choice and one that suited his style: with a fixed pawn structure he was able to carry out the piece manoeuvres that he enjoyed.

Sultan Khan V.Menchik Scarborough International Tournament (6) 28th June 1930 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.exd5 cxd5 4.♗d3 ♘c6 5.c3 ♕c7 6.♘e2 e6 7.♗f4 ♗d6 8.♗g3 ♘f6 9.♘d2 0-0 10.f4 ♘h5 11.0-0 f5 12.♖c1 ♘xg3 13.hxg3 ♕f7 14.♘f3 ♗e7 15.♕c2 h6

16.g4 fxg4 17.♘e5 ♘xe5 18.fxe5 ♕e8 19.♗g6 ♕d8 20.♖xf8+ ♗xf8 21.♖f1 ♗e7 22.♗h7+ ♔h8 23.♘f4 g5 24.♘g6+ ♔g7 25.♘xe7 1-0

A very straightforward attack. Menchik’s play was too passive (6…e6?! blocks in the light-squared bishop) and she put up no serious resistance to Khan’s plan. Scores after six rounds: Colle 4½, Rubinstein, Maroczy, Khan 4. In round 7 Khan resumed his battle against William Winter. After the catastrophic endgame blunder in last year’s British Championship, the Englishman had a score to settle, and on this occasion he didn’t need to go that far before putting matters right. ‘Sultan’s original opening play, always precarious, led here to a débâcle.’ (British Chess Magazine)

W.Winter Sultan Khan Scarborough International Tournament (7) 30th June 1930 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 d5 4.♗g5 c6 5.e3 ♗b4 6.♕c2 ♘bd7 7.♘f3 h6

This doesn’t fit with Black’s set-up. In the final round against Michell, Khan showed that he was learning and played the standard Cambridge Springs Variation with 7…♕a5. 8.♗h4 g5

Reckless. Once again Khan pays scant regard to his king position. 9.♗g3 ♘e4 10.♘d2 f5 11.♘dxe4 dxe4 12.f3 exf3 13.gxf3 ♕f6 14.0-0-0 b6?

Black’s position is already badly compromised, but this is a blunder. Instead 14…0-0 15.h4 gives White an obvious and easy attack. 15.♕a4

A painful double attack. Winter makes no mistake with the finish. 15…f4

Instead 15…♗xc3 16.♕xc6 0-0 17.♕xa8 with a winning material advantage. 16.♕xb4 fxg3 17.♘e4 ♕xf3 18.♘d6+ ♔d8 19.♗g2 ♕xg2 20.♘f7+ ♔e8 21.♘xh8 gxh2 22.♕d6 ♕e4 23.♕xh2 ♗a6 24.♕xh6 ♗xc4 25.♕xg5 ♘f8 26.♕h5+ ♔d7 27.♕f7+ ♔d6 28.♕b7 ♕xe3+ 29.♔b1 ♗d3+ 30.♔a1 ♖e8 31.♘f7+ ♔d5 32.♖h5+ ♗f5 33.♘e5

Black resigned. ‘Here Black lost on the time limit, but it is obvious that nothing but an airraid or an earthquake could have saved him.’ (The Illustrated London News) Running short of time was an unusual occurrence for Khan, and an indication of his desperate situation. Leading scores after seven rounds: Colle, Maroczy 5, Rubinstein 4½, Grünfeld, Khan, Ahues 4. In the eighth round Khan faced another Englishman, Sir George Thomas, another challenge deferred from last year. There was keen interest in the game. So far in Scarborough, against 1.e4 e5, Khan had played the Spanish, the Vienna, and here he returned to the Centre Game, 2.d4 exd4 3.♕xd4, that he had used in the 1928 All-India Championship. After an odd opening by both players, a balanced endgame was reached in which Khan, quite typically, pressed for an advantage with a general advance of his pawns. For one who grew up only playing his pawns forward by one square, he was making the most of the opportunity to push them further. Sultan Khan Sir G.A.Thomas Scarborough International Tournament (8) 1st July 1930

position after 23…♗b7xd5 24.b5!

Giving up a pawn, but keeping Black’s minor pieces hemmed in. Khan is not obliged to play like this, but recognises that 24.bxc5 ♗xc5 would liquidate to a draw. 24…♗xa2 25.♔c2 ♗d5 26.c4 ♗xf3 27.♘xf3 ♗f6 28.♘e5

28…g5?

Defending such cramped positions is difficult but 28…♗xe5 29.fxe5 ♖xd1 30.♖xd1 ♖f3 is good enough to draw, in spite of the woeful position of the

knight. 29.♖xd8?

Instead 29.♘d7 is a relatively simple win, but I suspect that Khan was rushing with Thomas in time pressure. 29…♖xd8?

29…♗xd8 30.fxg5 ♘e8 31.♔d3 ♗c7 32.♘c6 ♖f3 is a much better chance. 30.♘c6 ♖d7 31.fxg5 ♗d4 32.♖d1 e5 33.♘xe5 ♖e7 34.♗xd4 cxd4 35.♘c6 ♖e2+ 36.♖d2 ♖e3 37.♖xd4 ♖xh3 38.♘xa7 ♘e6 39.♖d6 ♘c5 40.♖xb6 ♖h2+ 41.♔d1 1-0

This was ambitious play from Khan, and Thomas couldn’t maintain his equilibrium under the assault. In round 9 Sultan Khan faced Ernst Grünfeld, top board for Austria and one of the leading players in the hugely influential Hypermodern movement. For once, Khan didn’t do badly in the opening phase, improving his play in the Slav that he had tried out in last year’s British Championship. A tight game finally ended in a draw in 67 moves. Leading scores after nine rounds: Colle 7, Maroczy 6½, Rubinstein 6, Khan 5½, Ahues 5. In the penultimate round Khan faced the tournament leader, Edgar Colle. The Belgian had a reputation for bold play, which in this tournament he had employed against the British to devastating effect. Sultan Khan E.Colle Scarborough International Tournament (10) 3rd July 1930

‘Colle in an Alekhine’s Defence found the Indian in his most aggressive mood. Colle can face risks as coolly as any player living, and the conflict of the two imperturbables gave us the wildest game of the tourney…’ (British Chess Magazine). 1.e4 ♘f6

A canny choice against Khan. He doesn’t appreciate the danger of advancing his pawns and compounds the errors by failing to castle before commencing an attack.

2.e5 ♘d5 3.c4 ♘b6 4.d4 d6 5.exd6 cxd6 6.♗e2 g6 7.♘c3 ♗g7 8.♗e3 0-0 9.h4?! h5 10.♘h3 ♘c6 11.♘g5 d5! 12.c5 ♘c4 13.♗f3 ♘xe3 14.fxe3 e5

The perfect moment to counter-attack: in all the excitement of pressing forward with his pawns, Khan hasn’t found time to castle and, with the exchange of his dark-squared bishop, his pawn structure is riddled with weaknesses. He decides to career on and sacrifice a piece, but the alternative 15.dxe5 d4 16.exd4 ♘xd4 also gives Black a tremendous position. 15.♗xd5 exd4 16.0-0 dxc3 17.♕b3 ♘e5 18.♗xf7+ ♔h8 19.bxc3 ♕e7 20.♗d5 ♗f6

‘Sultan Khan obtained a reasonably good position in the opening stages of his game against Colle and then yielded to the temptation of sacrificing a piece for an attack on the king’s side. This was not quite sound…’ (The Times) Wonderful understatement. White has absolutely no compensation for the sacrificed piece, and before then he had played wildly and poorly. Khan continued in vain before resigning on the 47th move. This was his worst game of the tournament. Leading scores after 10 rounds: Colle 8, Maroczy 7, Rubinstein 6½, Ahues 6, Khan, Grünfeld 5½. His final game was nothing short of sensational. R.P.Michell Sultan Khan Scarborough International Tournament (11) 4th July 1930 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 d5 4.♗g5 ♘bd7 5.e3 c6 6.♘f3 ♗b4 7.♕c2

7…♕a5

In round 7, Khan had recklessly played 7…h6 8.♗h4 g5. Perhaps Winter had informed him of the correct move after the game. 7…♕a5 introduces the socalled Cambridge Springs Variation, high fashion at that time, and still essayed today by many leading players including Mamedyarov, and even

Carlsen, on occasion. 8.♘d2 dxc4 9.♗xf6 ♘xf6 10.♘xc4 ♕c7 11.♗e2

11…♘d5

What is Khan doing? He moves the knight again, only to exchange it off the board on the next turn, losing time and allowing White to set up a dominating centre. From that solid base, Michell then begins an attack on the queenside. Instead, 11…0-0 has been played in hundreds of games and is absolutely correct. These are basics: bring the king to safety and then decide on a plan. 12.0-0 ♘xc3 13.bxc3 ♗e7 14.♘e5 g6 15.f4 ♗f6 16.♖ab1 ♗g7 17.♗f3 0-0 18.♘d3 b6 19.c4 ♗d7 20.a4 f6 21.c5 ♖ac8 22.♖fc1 ♖fe8 23.cxb6 axb6 24.♕b3 ♕d6 25.♕xb6 e5 26.♕c5 ♕c7 27.dxe5 fxe5 28.♘xe5 ♗xe5 29.fxe5 ♕xe5 30.♕xe5 ♖xe5

At this moment White has a clear extra pawn and well-coordinated pieces. The win should be simple. 31.♖a1

This seemingly natural move, playing the rook behind the pawn, is inaccurate. 31.♖b7 is correct, sending the bishop to a poor square: 31…♗e8 32.♔f2 ♖a5 33.♖c4, looking to move to e4 and attack on the seventh rank. As soon as Khan advances the c-pawn (32…c5) he has created sufficient counter-play to make White’s task difficult. 31…♖a5

I suspect that Michell had been analysing 31…♖xe3?! 32.a5, with a powerful initiative, and hadn’t considered this blocking move. 32.♖c4 c5 33.♗d5+ ♔g7 34.♖f4 ♗e8 35.♔f2 ♖d8 36.e4 ♖c8 37.e5 ♖d8 38.♗f3 ♖d2+ 39.♔e3 ♖b2 40.♖c4 ♗f7 41.♖c3 c4 42.♔d4 ♖d2+ 43.♔e3 ♖d8 44.♔f4 ♖d4+ 45.♔e3 ♖h4 46.♔f2 ♖f4 47.♖e3 ♗e6 48.♖b1 ♖xa4 49.♖b6 ♔f7 50.♖b7+ ♔f8 51.♖xh7 ♖a5 52.♖c7 ♖f5 53.♖c6 ♔e7 54.♖c7+ ♔d8 55.♖g7 g5 56.♖g6 ♔e7 57.♖g7+ ♔f8 58.♖g6 ♔f7 59.♖f6+ ♖xf6 60.exf6 ♔xf6 61.♖c3 ♔e5

There were several moments where White could have improved his play, but this is the point where his position dips from ‘equal’ into ‘dubious’. He should have blocked out Black’s king with 62.♔e3. 62.♖e3+ ♔d6 63.♗e2 ♖c5 64.♖c3 ♖f5+ 65.♔g3 ♖f4 66.♖a3 ♗d5 67.♗f3 ♗xf3 68.gxf3 ♖d4 69.♔f2 ♖d2+ 70.♔e3 ♖d1 71.♖a8 ♔c5 72.♖g8 c3 73.♖c8+ ♔b4 74.♖b8+ ♔a3 75.♖a8+ ♔b2 76.♖b8+ ♔c1 77.♔e4 c2 78.♖c8 ♖h1 79.♔f5 ♔d2 80.♔xg5 c1♕ 81.♖xc1 ♖xc1 82.h4 ♖g1+ 83.♔f6 ♖h1

84.♔g5 ♔e3 85.h5

85…♔d4!

Well calculated. 85…♔xf3 would have led to a draw: 86.h6 ♔e4 87.♔g6 ♔e5 88.h7 ♔e6 89.♔g7. They must have been playing for hours, so this level of skill and concentration is impressive. 86.♔g6 ♔e5 87.h6 ♔e6 88.♔g7 ♔e7 89.h7 ♖g1+ 90.♔h6 ♔f7 91.h8♘+ ♔f6 92.♔h7 ♖g7+ 93.♔h6 ♖g3 94.♔h7 ♖xf3 95.♔g8 ♖g3+ 96.♔f8 ♖g7 0-1

How did Khan turn a lost position into a winning one? With all the characteristics that he displayed in winning the British Championship the year before: concentration, tenacity and skill – plus Michell’s less than incisive technique. In many positions the English amateur trusted his judgment, but at some moment he needed to calculate. The 57-year-old must have found that increasingly difficult as Khan managed to stretch the game out, especially in the last round of a long tournament.

The British Chess Magazine reported: ‘The first prize was deservedly won by E.Colle, who played the strongest chess in the tournament. Bold strategy has only one real justification – a consummate command of tactics. This Colle has; and his style, without being fantastic or bizarre, shows that touch of independence which is the authentic sign of mastery… The most startling success was that of Sultan. Familiarity with European technique is not to be expected in one who as lately as last year could not read European books; hence the Indian’s opening play, particularly with black, has moments of blood-curdling jeopardy. Negotiating these hazards with philosophic calm, he affords a spectacle rich in a certain dreadful fascination for all who think Heaven sends chess and the Devil sends analysts.’ How had Khan’s play developed since last year? With black he was trying out new openings – the Sicilian with 4…e5 against Yates, and the Cambridge Springs – but his inexperience with them was evident. His game against Winter was a disaster and he should have lost to Michell. His play with white was no less hazardous. He was lost out of the opening against Colle’s Alekhine’s Defence and he was still playing the out-moded Centre Game against Thomas.

In general, he still didn’t look after his king very well (versus Winter, Maroczy, Colle), and he was sometimes rash with his pawn advances in the opening (versus Winter and Colle). It is notable that these were areas of the game governed by ‘Western’ rules (castling and two-step pawn advances). He was still gaining experience with these alien concepts. Khan showed tremendous fighting spirit, playing just one draw in the eleven games. He was not afraid of his illustrious opponents – not the English players who were supposed to be his superiors, nor the experienced continentals – and was always prepared to take risks in order to play for a win. This could be very positive, for example, the fine positional pawn sacrifice against Thomas; but sometimes he lost his objectivity – against Rubinstein, Maroczy and Colle. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that the three strongest players, all from continental Europe, managed to trip him up. His will to win also came through in his long endgames against Ahues and Michell in which he displayed excellent technique. Khan had partially answered the critics who had doubted his abilities after winning last year’s British Championship. In the final standings he was clearly ahead of the British contingent, and had defeated the top two, Yates and Thomas. His losses showed that the Continentals played with a sophistication that was, for the main, a little beyond him. Nevertheless, there were signs of development and Scarborough had been excellent preparation for the Hamburg International Team Tournament that was to start in just over a week.

PART III

Europe

CHAPTER 8

Hamburg International Team Tournament 1930 ‘For anyone accustomed to the stony indifference with which chess events are regarded in England, the opening of the tournament was a strange and inspiring sight. As we assembled for the first day’s play, hundreds of people lined the streets leading to the Congress Hall, eagerly and knowledgeably trying to pick out the famous names.’ – William Winter William Winter’s recollection98 demonstrates the prestige that chess enjoyed in German society. The tournament was hosted in style by the Hamburger Schachklub, celebrating its centenary, at the splendid Provinzialloge von Niedersachsen – a grand freemasons’ lodge – that was large enough to accommodate all the teams in its main hall. This was the third event of its kind that later came to be known as the Chess Olympiad. The first took place in London in 1927, the second in The Hague in 1928 and both were won by Hungary. Many of the world’s leading players were attracted to the event, despite the lack of prize money. The World Champion, Alexander Alekhine, played nine games for France scoring 100%, though he ducked the stronger teams, preferring, as he explained, not to influence the fight for first place; but he might just have wanted to avoid any danger. A Cuban team was not participating, but Capablanca made an appearance, wanting to meet delegates at the Federation International des Échecs (FIDÉ) congress to restate his claim for a return match against Alekhine. Eighteen teams took part, playing an all-play-all tournament, which resulted in a gruelling schedule over the two weeks as there had to be some double-round days. Matches took place over four boards, and each team had one reserve. The tournament was a superb opportunity for Khan to test himself against some of the world’s best players, while having the support and advice of his British team-mates, Thomas, Yates, Winter and Tylor.

In a sleight of hand, the British team was renamed, for the first time ever, the ‘British Empire’ team, so that Sultan Khan could be included without inviting awkward questions. For the record, there was no Indian team in the competition.99 Was there any criticism of Khan’s selection for the British team? Certainly none in the British chess magazines and newspapers. There was a strong sporting precedent for his inclusion: Sir Ranjitsinhji Vibhaji Jadeja, an Indian prince, better known as ‘Ranji’, one of the most successful cricket batsmen of all time, had represented England between 1896 and 1902. Indeed, Sultan Khan was sometimes described as the ‘Ranji of chess’ in newspaper articles.100 Ranji’s nephew, Duleepsinhji, also played cricket for England from 1929-1931 – coinciding with Sultan Khan’s time in London. So long as Indians conformed with British culture, then Britain, at this time, was inclusive. More than that, they were proud that India and Indians were a part of the Empire and part of society. Stereotypical ideas of how an Indian should look and behave were often projected onto Sultan Khan, but the chess scene was welcoming towards him. It must have been difficult for the British chess team to find themselves with a new top board, but I can find no mention of animosity towards Khan; the opposite in fact – the rest of the team was supportive. Khan’s personality would have played a part in this. On the odd occasion when there are direct quotes from him, he was invariably modest about his achievements and anything but strident in his views. ‘There is no more unassuming or popular player,’ was the glowing comment after one of his later tournament victories.101 How was he treated by his opponents? William Winter relates that, ‘…his lack of any intelligible language annoyed some rivals. “What language does your champion speak?” shouted the Austrian, Kmoch, after his third offer of a draw had been met only with Sultan’s gentle smile. “Chess” I replied, and so it proved, for in a few moves the Austrian champion had to resign.’ This is another case where Winter, writing a couple of decades later, has mis-remembered the facts: Khan did play against Kmoch, but the game ended in a draw.102 We will probably never learn the name of Khan’s opponent in this anecdote, but the story in its essence is believable: at this point Khan’s English was still poor, and he always tried to squeeze as much from the position as possible.

The Times chess correspondent previewed the event and considered that the current holders, Hungary, would be tough to beat, ‘But I am not without hope that the British Empire team… will prove equal to the task of bringing the cup home. At all events, there will be nothing to justify the complaint of the pessimists, one of whom was heard at Scarborough contending that, as usual, English players could do nothing against the foreign.’103 In fact, the pessimists had their view confirmed in the very first round when the British Empire team took on Germany. Khan was on board 1, facing the German champion Ahues whom he had beaten a couple of weeks before. ‘Naturally the larger crowds, and crowds is the correct description, were round the table where the British Empire was fighting Germany and where Poland was engaged with Hungary.’ (The Times) C.Ahues Sultan Khan Hamburg International Team Tournament (1) (Germany-British Empire) 13th July 1930 1.e4 c5 2.♘f3 ♘c6

Khan wants to repeat 3.d4 cxd4 4.♘xd4 e5, but Ahues, aware of the game against Yates in Scarborough, plays a canny side-step, delaying d4 and waiting to see if his opponent has a wider knowledge of the Sicilian. The answer: no. 3.♘c3 e6 4.♗e2 g6?

If Black can play …♗g7 to prevent d4, then all is well, but Ahues seizes the moment. Instead 4…♘f6 or 4…a6 are normal, but this must already have been unfamiliar territory to Khan. 5.d4 cxd4 6.♘xd4

White threatens 7.♘db5 so Black has to make another pawn move, allowing White to seize the initiative. 6…a6 7.♘xc6 bxc6 8.♕d4 f6 9.h4 ♖b8 10.h5 g5 11.h6 ♕b6 12.♕d3 ♕c7 13.♗h5+ ♔e7 14.b3 ♔d8 15.♗b2 ♕d6 16.♕e2 ♕e7 17.0-0-0 ♗xh6 18.♕c4 ♔c7 19.♘a4 ♕b4 20.♕e2 ♗g7 21.♖d4 ♕b5 22.c4 ♕b4 23.c5 ♕b5 24.♕d2

Black’s position is an embarrassment. White threatens 25.♗e2, driving the queen away, followed by 26.♕a5+. 24…d5 25.cxd6+ ♔d7 26.♗a3 g4 27.♗f7 ♕g5 28.♘c5+ ♔d8 29.d7 ♕xd2+ 30.♖xd2 1-0

‘Eine schreckliche Niederlage’ (‘a dreadful defeat’) was the description of this game in the official tournament book. They weren’t wrong.104 Ahues’s clever opening finesse highlighted Khan’s inexperience. The British Empire team were convincingly defeated by Germany 3-1, but they bounced back in round 2 defeating a weak Norwegian team 3½-½. Khan won easily after his opponent made a simple tactical error. His opponent in round 3 was stronger, but also made a horrible oversight, this time directly in the opening. H.Weenink Sultan Khan Hamburg International Team Tournament (3) (Netherlands-British Empire) 15th July 1930 1.e4 c5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.d4 cxd4 4.♘xd4 e5 5.♘e2

I am guessing that Weenink hadn’t seen Khan’s previous outing with this opening against Yates, and perhaps not even his first-round game here in Hamburg against Ahues. Khan was to employ 4…e5 on two further occasions in Hamburg. In round 8 Golmayo de la Torriente-Sultan Khan continued 5.♘b3 ♘f6 6.♗c4 d6

7.♘c3 ♗e6 and Black was already fine.105 The only move that tests Black is 5.♘b5, but Khan dealt with that successfully in round 14: Apsenieks-Khan continued 5.♘b5 d6 6.♗c4?! ♗e6 7.♘1a3 a6 8.♘c3 ♘f6 9.♗e3 b5 10.♗d5 ♖c8 and Black already had the better position and went on to win.106 5…♘f6 6.♘ec3 ♗c5 7.♗c4 d6 8.a3? ♘g4

White is forced to give up a pawn as 9.0-0 ♕h4 wins on the spot. 9.♗e3 ♘xe3 10.fxe3 ♕g5 11.♕f3 ♕xe3 12.♕xe3 ♗xe3 13.♘d5 ♗b6 14.♘xb6 axb6 15.♘c3 ♗e6 16.♘b5 ♔e7 17.♗xe6 fxe6 18.0-0-0 ♖ad8 19.♖hf1 d5 20.♘c3 d4 21.♘a4 b5 22.♘c5 ♘a5 23.♖f3 ♖hf8 24.♖df1 ♖f6 25.♖xf6 gxf6 26.♖f3 ♖g8 27.♖h3 ♖g7 28.b3 ♔d6 29.♘d3 ♘c6 30.g3 ♘d8 31.♖h6 ♔e7 32.♔d2 ♘f7 33.♖h5 h6 34.♘f2 ♖g8 35.♔d3 ♖c8 36.♔d2 ♔f8 37.g4 ♖a8 38.a4 bxa4 39.bxa4 ♘g5 40.♖xh6 ♔g7 41.♖h5 ♖xa4 42.h4 ♘f7 43.♘d3 b6 44.♘f2 ♖a1 45.♘d1 ♖a3 46.♘b2 ♖g3 0-1

A beautifully controlled endgame. Khan instinctively understood the value of the central pawns, holding them firm while chipping away around the edges at White’s structure, then probing with the rook. His record with 4…e5 over Scarborough and Hamburg was 4/4, an opening that suited his positional style. It’s a pity he didn’t retain it in his repertoire for much longer after this. Another opening system that Khan continued to develop at this time, with mixed results at first, was the Queen’s Indian. His round 5 game began: 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘f3 b6 4.g3 ♗b7 5.♗g2 c5

Ruben-Sultan Khan, Hamburg, round 5, 16th July 1930 (Denmark-British Empire). The early advance of the c-pawn was popular at the time. Capablanca had beaten Alekhine with it in New York 1927, and both Yates and Thomas had copied. I am guessing that Khan had been schooled by his colleagues. The opening turned out well, but he was gradually outplayed in the middlegame and finally lost in 77 moves. Round 6 saw Khan picking up more experience with this Queen’s Indian/Hedgehog set-up. S.Takacs Sultan Khan Hamburg International Team Tournament (6) (Hungary-British Empire) 17th July 1930 1.c4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 c5 3.♘c3 b6 4.g3 ♗b7 5.♗g2 e6 6.0-0 ♗e7 7.d4 cxd4 8.♘xd4 ♗xg2 9.♔xg2 a6 10.b3 ♕c7 11.♗b2 ♘c6 12.e4 h5

Advancing the rook’s pawn is quite appropriate for these systems, although at the time I suspect it would have looked distinctly bizarre. The Hedgehog only became respectable in top-level chess in the 1970s. White has the difficult decision of whether to block with h4, contain with h3, or get on with

something else entirely. 13.♖c1 ♘xd4 14.♕xd4 ♗c5 15.♕d3 h4 16.♘a4 hxg3 17.hxg3 ♘g4 18.♗d4 00-0

This looks natural, but Khan overlooks a beautiful idea: 18…♖h2+ 19.♔h1 ♔e7 followed by …♖ah8 gives Black a huge attack. Therefore 19.♔f3, and now 19…♕e5! with the idea 20.♗xe5 ♘xe5+ 21.♔e2 ♘xd3 22.♔xd3 ♖xf2 and Black has a clear extra pawn. 19.♖h1 ♕d6 20.♖cd1?

20.♖xh8 ♖xh8 21.♖d1 would have held the position. 20…♖xh1 21.♔xh1 ♘xf2+ 22.♗xf2 ♕xd3 23.♖xd3 ♗xf2 24.♔g2 ♗c5 25.♘xc5 bxc5 26.♖d6 ♔b7 27.e5 f6 28.♔f3 fxe5 29.♔e4 a5 30.♔xe5 a4 31.bxa4 ♔c7 32.♖a6

Khan’s enterprising play has paid off. Compare Black’s connected centre pawns with White’s ragged collection – potentially a winning positional advantage. He just needs to activate his rook to drive away the king and then attack the isolated pawns. 32…♖h8 is correct: 33.♖a7+ ♔c6 34.♖a6+ ♔b7 35.♖a5 ♔b6 36.♖b5+ ♔c6. White’s rook and king have been kept at bay, and then Black’s rook can sweep into the position. 32…♖b8? 33.♖a7+ ♔c6 34.♖a6+ ♔c7 ½-½

Here Black needs to be able to play 34…♔b7, but it fails to 35.♖a5 ♔b6 36.♖b5+ ♔c7 37.♖xc5+. The rook is misplaced on b8.

Round 7 provides more evidence that Khan was learning rapidly. His game against Colle in Scarborough had been a disaster, rashly advancing his pawns all over the board against the provocative Alekhine’s Defence. This time, he treated the opening with more respect. Sultan Khan A.Pokorny Hamburg International Team Tournament (7) (British Empire-Czechoslovakia) 18th July 1930 1.e4 ♘f6 2.♘c3

Offering a transposition into the Vienna (2…e5). Black declines and we end up in a typical Alekhine’s Defence/Scandinavian position where White has a slight space advantage – and risks very little. 2…d5 3.exd5 ♘xd5 4.♘f3 g6 5.♗c4 c6 6.0-0 ♗g7 7.♖e1 0-0 8.d4 ♗g4 9.h3 ♗xf3 10.♕xf3 e6

11.♘e4

A bold move. Protecting the d-pawn (by 11.♖d1 or 11.♘e2) would have slowed down his development and put his pieces on awkward squares, so Khan just offers the pawn instead. Unwilling to disturb his solid defensive formation, Pokorny declines 11…♗xd4, preferring to develop. Psychologically understandable, but it hands over the initiative. Through this finesse, Khan is able to protect the d-pawn more efficiently and

naturally with the c-pawn and swiftly develops a kingside attack. 11…♘d7 12.c3 ♕c7 13.♗b3 b5 14.h4 ♖ae8 15.h5

Black is under pressure and decides to break in the centre, but that opens the diagonal for the light-squared bishop which eventually proves fatal. 15…e5 16.h6 ♗h8 17.♘g5 ♘7b6 18.dxe5 ♗xe5 19.♗e3 ♘xe3 20.♖xe3 ♗h2+ 21.♔h1 ♖xe3 22.fxe3 ♗e5 23.♘e6

Winning the exchange. Khan continued vigorously and Pokorny, who was short of time, was swept away: 23…♕e7 24.♘xf8 ♔xf8 25.♔g1 c5 26.♖f1 c4 27.♗c2 ♗d6 28.g3 ♗c5 29.♔g2 a6 30.e4 ♘d7 31.e5 ♘xe5 32.♕a8+ ♕e8 33.♕xe8+ ♔xe8 34.♖f6 ♘g4 35.♖c6 ♗f8 36.♗e4 a5 37.♖c8+ ♔e7 38.♖b8 b4 39.cxb4 axb4 40.♖xb4 ♗xh6 41.a4 ♔d6 42.a5 ♗d2 43.a6 1-0

This looks like proper chess: a competent opening, good development, sound middlegame strategy, a command of tactics and efficient technique. Moreover, Pokorny was an experienced master. In round 9, Khan demonstrated his ability to conjure winning chances from a flat position. Sultan Khan L.Betbeder Matibet Hamburg International Team Tournament (9) (British Empire-France) 20th July 1930

position after 29…c6-c5

This arose from a Centre Game (1.e4 e5 2.d4) but on this occasion Khan has achieved a decent position. Black has just struck out with 29…c5. The normal response would be 30.dxc5 bxc5 and chances are balanced: White cannot do much with his major pieces as Black’s kingside pawn structure is solid and his pieces well-coordinated. Instead Khan comes up with a creative way to keep his chances alive: 30.d5

Black has to eliminate this passed pawn. 30…f6 31.♖e7 ♕xd5

In taking the pawn Black has had to expose the seventh rank, and that is worrying. 32.♘f4 ♕d1+ 33.♕xd1 ♖xd1+ 34.♔g2 ♖f7 35.♘g6 ♗xg6

Under pressure (time pressure?) Black eliminates the seemingly dangerous knight – a mistake. In fact, White has nothing more than a draw by perpetual check after 35…♖a1 36.♖e8+ ♔f7 37.♖e7+ etc. 36.hxg6 ♖xe7 37.♖xe7 ♔f8 38.♖f7+ ♔e8

Losing swiftly, but 38…♔g8 is also insufficient: 39.♖b7 ♔f8 40.f4! ♖a1 41.♖b8+ ♔e7 42.♖g8 ♖xa2+ 43.♔f3 ♖c2 44.♖xg7+ ♔f8 45.♖f7+ ♔g8 46.♖xf6 ♖xc3+ 47.♔e4. The king, rook, and pawn combine to attack Black’s king. There is no way out and Black’s pawns are too slow on the other side of the board. 39.♖xg7 ♖d2 40.♖g8+ ♔e7 41.♖b8 1-0

All in all, these games, apart from the disastrous first round, are encouraging. Khan’s opening repertoire was developing, and he was producing some creative ideas in the middlegame. Even though he was facing stronger opposition he was continuing to play fearlessly, as well as displaying his customary fighting spirit. Unfortunately, it was a case of two steps forward, one step back. Khan suffered another opening disaster in round 10. E.Gilfer Sultan Khan Hamburg International Team Tournament (10) (Iceland-British Empire) 21st July 1930 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 e6 3.e3 b6 4.♗d3 ♗b7 5.0-0 ♘e4

This is over-eager. 6.c4 f5 7.♘e5 ♘f6

It has taken the knight three moves to get to this square. 8.f4 ♗e7

8…g6, to bolster the f5-pawn, followed by …♗g7 would still have been alright for Black. 9.♘c3 0-0 10.♕c2 d6 11.♘f3 c5 12.♘g5 ♗c8 13.d5

Both 13…exd5 and 13…e5 lose to 14.♗xf5.

13…g6 14.dxe6 h6 15.♘f7 ♕e8 16.♘xh6+ 1-0

After 16…♔g7 White has a number of different ways to play. 17.♘f7 ♗xe6 18.♘g5 is a safe extra pawn; or 17.♘xf5+ gxf5 18.♗xf5 followed by g4 and b3 gives White four pawns for the piece and a safe method of attack. That said, I’m still a little surprised that Khan resigned. He is lost, but there are so many pieces on the board that one could still hope for a miracle, and miracles sometimes turned up in his games. He must have been quite disgusted with his opening play. Khan struck back by winning his next game against Ragnar Krogius from Finland using his favourite 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.exd5 cxd5 4.♗d3. Then in the 12th round he played Akiba Rubinstein, with whom he had had the titanic struggle in Scarborough. On this occasion Khan had a dubious opening and was outplayed. Rubinstein was on superb form at the Olympiad, scoring 13 wins and 4 draws out of 17 games, and winning a special prize of 60 marks for the best individual performance.107 In the final rounds, Khan scored draws against Kashdan from America and Stahlberg from Sweden, both promising younger players, and defeated Abramavicius (Lithuania), Apsenieks (Latvia), and Taubmann (Romania). This last victory was Khan’s best performance in the later rounds. The Illustrated London News, 13th September 1930, featured this game accompanying it with this bizarre assessment of his style: ‘Mir Sultan Khan, playing top board for Britain at Hamburg, thoroughly justified himself as British champion, and silenced those critics who thought his Ramsgate victory “fluky.” There is not much gaiety in his chess; he plays a grim, thrustful game, and in winning employs methods of brutal simplicity. The game which follows is a good specimen of his style, in which one looks in vain for the filigree and arabesque usually associated with Hindustan.’ H.Taubmann Sultan Khan Hamburg International Team Tournament (16) {Romania-British Empire) 26th July 1930

1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♗b4 4.a3 ♗xc3+ 5.bxc3 b6 6.♕c2 ♗b7 7.f3

White would like to advance the e-pawn, building a strong centre, and Black can stop that or contain it. Kmoch-Capablanca, Budapest 1928, went 7…d6 8.e4 e5 9.♗d3 c5 10.♘e2 ♘c6 11.♗e3 ♕e7 12.0-0, but White had a pleasant space advantage. Perhaps Khan was wary of this type of centre after his drubbing by Abrahams in the training game, so he prevented White from playing e4: 7…d5 8.♗g5 ♘bd7 9.cxd5 exd5 10.c4 h6 11.♗h4 c5 12.dxc5 ♖c8

This is a reversal of roles. Khan’s rapid mobilisation catches out his opponent. If 13.cxb6 ♖c5 hits queen and bishop: 14.♗xf6 ♕xf6 15.♕d1 00 16.bxa7 ♕b6 gives Black a massive attack. 13.cxd5 ♖xc5 14.♕a4 ♗xd5 15.e4 ♗c6 16.♕b3 0-0 17.♖d1 ♕e7 18.♗d3

Black has a lead in development, but that needs to be converted into something more tangible. There are several candidate moves to consider: 18…♖h5, 18…♖a5, 18…g5, for example, but Khan goes for something straightforward. 18…♘e5 19.♘e2 ♘xd3+ 20.♕xd3 ♗b5 21.♕e3 ♖fc8 22.0-0 ♘g4

‘A fine move; Sultan must almost have smiled. If BxQ, the exchanges leave White wringing his hands on the Queen’s wing.’ (The Illustrated London News) The comment about almost smiling must refer to Khan’s famed inscrutability at the board but, to my ears, it’s too familiar. In any case, the columnist is over-impressed by the tactical exchange. White

should have played 23.♗xe7 ♘xe3 24.♗xc5 ♘xd1 25.♖xd1 ♗xe2 26.♖e1 ♖xc5 27.♖xe2 when Black still has some advantage but converting this into a win would require some assistance from the opponent. 23.fxg4 ♕xh4 24.♕f3 ♕e7 25.♖f2 ♗xe2 26.♖xe2 ♖c3 27.♕f5 ♕xa3 28.♖d7 ♖f8

‘Childlike, but effective; White might now have resigned.’ (The Illustrated London News). 29.h4 ♖c5 30.e5 ♕g3 31.♕f1 ♕xg4 32.♖xa7 ♕xh4 33.♕a1 ♕g5 34.♖e1 ♖c2 0-1

The Illustrated London News finished off the report of this game with the comment: ‘White resigns, with three cheers for the Red, White, and Blue.’ Is he being ironic? Possibly. If not, then the assumption that Britain is able to co-opt talent from around the Empire and bring them happily under the flag is complacent in the extreme. In any case, the columnist’s annotations throughout are patronising. Sultan Khan’s final score in the Olympiad was 9 wins, 4 draws, 4 losses and was well received in the British press. His play was developing. In the opening he was regularly playing the Sicilian Löwenthal and the Queen’s Indian, in which he displayed a decent positional understanding. Notably, in both cases, he understood that the majority of pawns in the centre could give him a long-term advantage. In general, he was less reckless with his pawn advances – against Pokorny’s Alekhine’s Defence he played a controlled and responsible attack. His will to win brought in more points than he lost. This enterprising spirit was all the more remarkable considering that he had no rest days in the entire event: he played all 17 games, including two double-round days. Sir George Thomas had fallen ill in the middle of the tournament and was forced to miss a few games and, as the British team only had one reserve player (Tylor), Khan was unable to take a rest. Besides, he was playing well.108 Khan must have been exhausted – though it didn’t particularly show in his play. In fact, such a concentrated period of chess gave him invaluable experience, especially as he had his team-mates to assist with preparation and advice. On the negative side of the equation were a couple of disastrous losses where he was caught out in the opening; and Rubinstein out-classed him in all phases of the game. In other words, there was still plenty of room for

improvement. The final scores in the tournament: Poland 48½, Hungary 47, Germany 44½. The British Empire team finished in eighth position with 40½ points.

CHAPTER 9

Liège 1930 ‘From the British point of view… the performance of Sultan Khan, the British champion, has been very encouraging.’ – Birmingham Gazette Instead of returning home after Hamburg, Sultan Khan went on to play a tournament in Liège in Belgium. There were three weeks before the event started on 19th August, and it’s unclear where he stayed in that time. Sir George Thomas was also a participant, and there were others who had travelled from Hamburg, so perhaps lodgings were arranged for them all. The tournament was part of the Liège Exposition and to add lustre to the occasion the World Champion, Alexander Alekhine, gave a simultaneous exhibition on the first day, although he did not compete in the tournament. Nevertheless, this was a strong event – certainly stronger than the Scarborough tournament – providing another test and more experience for Sultan Khan. In previewing the event The Times correspondent opined that ‘Probably Nimzowitsch and Rubinstein are the strongest players… but one has to remember that Colle won the recent Scarborough tournament.’ In the first round Khan faced Victor Soultanbeieff, an émigré from Soviet Russia, who had been part of the Belgian team in Hamburg.

The participants in the Liège Masters 1930, plus others who had travelled on after Hamburg, including Alexander Alekhine, seated third from left.109 V.Soultanbeieff Sultan Khan Liège (1) 19th August 1930 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 b6 3.c4 e6 4.g3 ♗b7 5.♗g2

Khan had tried 5…c5 in Hamburg, but now he varied: 5…♗b4+ 6.♗d2 ♗xd2+ 7.♘bxd2 0-0 8.0-0 c5 9.♕c2

This line was high fashion in the late 1920s and early 1930s. MarshallCapablanca, New York 1931, continued 9.dxc5 bxc5 10.♖c1 ♕c7 11.♘b3 d6 12.♕d2 ♘c6 13.♖fd1 ♖fd8 14.♘h4 a5 15.a4 ♖ab8, employing a similar, and successful, strategy to this game. 9…♘c6 10.dxc5 bxc5 11.e4

Reuben Fine, in his book The World’s Greatest Chess Games, gave this move a double question mark. White’s pawn advance is a strategic mistake, giving away the d4-square. By combining play on the b-file with the threat to occupy d4 with the knight, Khan takes control of the position. 11…♕c7 12.♖fe1 d6 13.♖ac1 h6 14.a3 ♘d7 15.♕c3 a5 16.♘h4 g5 17.♕e3 ♕d8 18.♘hf3 ♕e7 19.h3 ♖ab8 20.b3 ♗a8 21.♘b1 ♘de5 22.a4 ♘xf3+ 23.♗xf3 ♘d4 24.♗d1

Black stands better in every sector of the board and his pieces combine beautifully. The final attack is simple and brutal.

24…f5 25.exf5

25.e5 ♖xb3 26.♗xb3 ♕b7 crushes. 25…♖xf5 26.♖c3 ♖bf8 27.♖f1 ♖f3 28.♗xf3

28.♕e1 ♕b7 doesn’t change matters. 28…♖xf3 0-1

If 29.♕e1 Black can choose between 29…♕b7 or 29…♖xc3. A perfect game. The Times correspondent bafflingly reported that ‘Mir Sultan Khan hardly had the best of the opening, but improved his position later on and won by a King’s side attack…’ At least he understood the attack. In round 2 Khan outplayed Henri Weenink positionally (again) and won an endgame in 70 moves. Khan resumed his battle with the German champion, Ahues, in round 3. From a slightly shaky Nimzo-Indian, Khan had stabilised the position and gradually assumed the initiative. With his last move, Khan set a trap. C.Ahues Sultan Khan Liège (3) 21st August 1930

position after 43…♕b6-c5

White’s knight is oddly placed, and his king a little open, but if he plays correctly he can still maintain the balance. 44.♕b2 waits, and Black can make no progress. In this case 44…♘g3+ does not work because of 45.hxg3 fxg3 46.♕e2 ♕h5 47.♕e4+, winning. 44.♕b1

Losing. Maintaining the pin on the rook feels right, but in fact the queen is out of position when it comes to defence: 44…♘g3+ 45.hxg3 fxg3 46.♕c2 ♕h5 0-1

There is no defence to the invasion on the h-file. In the next round Khan faced a true star of the chess world – Frank J.Marshall. At the St Petersburg tournament of 1914, the Tsar of Russia conferred the Grandmaster title on the five finalists: Lasker, Capablanca, Alekhine, Tarrasch and Marshall. That alone puts him in the pantheon of chess greats. Marshall was the originator of many opening ideas, including his famous gambit in the Ruy Lopez. The American was 53 years old, but still capable of performing well. In Hamburg he had played on the third board for the American team scoring an excellent 12½/17. Sultan Khan F.J.Marshall Liège (4) 22nd August 1930 1.e4 e5 2.d4 exd4 3.♕xd4

Khan was developing his opening repertoire as Black (that was perhaps more urgent), but it is surprising that he was still playing this poor system as White. 3…♘c6 4.♕e3 ♘f6 5.♘c3 ♗e7 6.♗d2 d5 7.exd5 ♘xd5 8.♘xd5 ♕xd5 9.♘e2 ♗g4 10.♘f4 ♕d7 11.f3 0-0-0

Typically, Marshall makes a bold attempt to seize the initiative. If the piece is accepted, White can land in trouble: 12.fxg4 ♗h4+ 13.♔d1 ♖he8 14.♕d3 ♕xg4+ 15.♗e2 ♖xe2! 16.♕xe2 ♕xf4 with a dangerous attack. Prudently, Khan rejects this and brings his king to safety. 12.0-0-0 ♖he8?

Marshall persists, but he should have backed down and played 12…♗f5 13.♗d3 with a roughly level position. 13.fxg4! ♗b4 14.♕f2 ♗c5

15.♕xc5? ♕xd2+ forces mate. 15.♕f3 ♖e3

16.♕d5

I suspect that Marshall had underestimated this move. 16…♕e7

Instead 16…♕xd5 17.♘xd5 ♖xd5 18.♗c4! wins an exchange. 17.♕f5+ ♔b8 18.♘d3

Black has nothing to show for the sacrificed piece. Marshall lost on time on move 26. While the opening was poor, Khan calculated well in defeating the great American champion. Marshall was renowned for his attacking play and to catch him out with accurate defence was a coup. In round 5 he convincingly defeated the Argentinian champion, Isaias Pleci, with the Nimzo-Indian, and then in round 6 he had the chance to take revenge on Edgar Colle. Perhaps influenced by his successes with the Queen’s Indian, he tried a queenside fianchetto with white. Sultan Khan E.Colle Liège (6) 25th August 1930 1.♘f3 ♘f6 2.b3 c5 3.c4 g6 4.♗b2 ♗g7 5.e4

This takes the game into original paths – at least to our eyes. In fact, Khan isn’t improvising: he is employing a favourite system of Kishan Lal, one of his coaches in India (see earlier chapter). 5…d6 6.d3 ♘c6 7.♗e2 0-0 8.♕c1 a6 9.h3 b5 10.♘bd2 e5 11.g4 bxc4 12.bxc4 ♖b8 13.♗c3 ♘d4 14.♘f1 ♗b7 15.♘g3 ♗c6 16.♘xd4

16…exd4

16…cxd4! would have exposed the shortcomings of the system: 17.♗d2 ♘d7, followed by …♘c5 with a clear advantage. Colle, a dangerous attacker, must have feared White’s kingside assault, but the open b-file provides Black with more than sufficient counterplay. The endgame that follows is balanced for a long time, but Khan gradually assumes control and outplays his opponent. Such long-winded manoeuvring wasn’t the Belgian’s favoured territory. 17.♗d2 ♖e8 18.f3 ♕b6 19.♔f2 ♕b2 20.♗f4 ♕xc1 21.♖hxc1 ♗f8 22.♖ab1 ♘d7 23.♖b3 ♖xb3 24.axb3 ♖b8 25.♗d1 ♘e5 26.♔e2 ♗d7 27.♖a1 ♗c8 28.♗d2 ♗e7 29.f4 ♘c6 30.♘f1

A stand-off has been reached on the queenside, so attention shifts to the other side of the board where White has more space. In other words, Khan can improve his position, Colle cannot. 30…h5 31.♘h2 hxg4 32.hxg4 ♔g7 33.♔f2 ♗b7 34.♘f3 ♖h8 35.♗e2 ♗c8 36.♖g1 ♗d8 37.♔g3 ♗b7 38.g5 ♗c8 39.♘h4 f6 40.gxf6+ ♗xf6 41.♘f3 ♗d7 42.♔f2 ♖b8 43.♗d1 a5 44.f5 ♗e8 45.♗f4 ♘e5 46.♘xe5 dxe5 47.♗c1 ♗h4+ 48.♔g2 ♗f7 49.♖h1 ♗e7 50.♔f3 ♗d6 51.♗g5

Khan has made progress on the kingside using the f5-pawn as a spearhead. The defender faces the traditional dilemma to which there is rarely a clear answer: should one hold firm in defence or break out? Colle chooses incorrectly. 51…gxf5 52.exf5 ♗e8 53.♔g4 ♗d7 54.♖h6 ♖b6 55.♖g6+ ♔f7 56.♗f3

Colle was hoping to use this diagonal when he exchanged pawns, but his strategy has completely rebounded. If Black waits, for example with 56… ♗c8, then White creeps in: 57.♗d5+ ♔e8 58.♖h6 ♗d7 59.♖h7 ♗c8 60.♗f7+, and so on. He gives up a piece, which is also hopeless. 56…♗xf5+ 57.♔xf5 ♔e8 58.♗d5 ♔d7 59.♖g7+ ♔c8 60.♖g8+ 1-0

The opening might have been dubious, but Khan’s understanding of the endgame was excellent. The tournament was running perfectly, but round 7 was a test. He faced Rubinstein, who had beaten him in Scarborough (narrowly), and then in Hamburg (convincingly). The Pole repeated the Colle Opening from Hamburg, and this time Khan played better. The middlegame was closed and tense, but slowly the veteran gained the upper hand and reached a winning endgame. A.Rubinstein Sultan Khan Liège (7) 26th August 1930

position after 72…♖a5-g5

At a glance, it is hard to imagine that Black has any chance of saving this game. Many players would have resigned some time ago. In truth, the path to victory at this point still requires precise calculation and technique: 73.♖g2 ♖xg2+ 74.♔xg2 ♔xb2 75.♔f3 and here the most stubborn defence is 75…a3 76.♔f4 a2 77.♖h2+ ♔b3 78.♖xa2 ♔xa2 79.♔f5 ♔b3 80.h6 ♔xc3 81.g7 ♔b4 82.h7 ♖xg7 83.h8♕. White should win but this is still not easy. I suspect that Rubinstein looked at this line – perhaps not even to this depth – and thought he could find something simpler. 73.♖h4 ♖h8

Here 74.♔h3 still wins: 74…♖gxh5 75.♖xh5 ♖xh5+ 76.♔g4 ♖h8 77.♔g5 a3 78.bxa3 ♔xc3 79.g7 ♖d8 80.♔f6. White will win the rook for the g-pawn and queens the a-pawn. But this line is not easy to calculate. I suspect that Rubinstein was exhausted after playing out long adjournment sessions. 74.♖e6? ♖hxh5

Now it’s a draw. White would even lose if he tried 75.♔h3 ♔xb2. 75.♖b6+ ♖b5 76.♖xh5 ♖xb6 77.g7 ♖g6 78.♖b5+ ♔c2 79.♖b4 ♖xg7 80.♖xa4 ½-½

The leading scores after 7 rounds: Sultan Khan 6½, Tartakower 5. With just four games to play, it seemed that the tournament was his. So far

Khan had shown much-improved opening play, strategic skill, excellent calculation, patient endgame technique, and his customary resilience. Then disaster struck. Sultan Khan Sir G.A.Thomas Liège (8) 27th August 1930 1.e4 e6 2.♘f3 d5 3.exd5 exd5 4.d4 ♗d6 5.♗d3 ♘e7 6.0-0 0-0 7.♘c3 c6 8.♖e1 ♗f5 9.♗g5 f6 10.♗h4 ♕d7 11.♗g3 ♗xd3 12.♕xd3 ♘a6 13.♖e2

Khan has achieved absolutely nothing with his customary Exchange Variation against the French. The game appears to be drifting towards a draw – not a bad result in view of the tournament standings. I’m not sure that Khan thought about such matters: every single game counted; in every single game he wanted to play for a win. 13…♗xg3 14.fxg3

An odd decision. 14.hxg3 is normal and correct and a draw would be on the cards. Had Khan been struck by hubris? Or was this just his normal antipathy to a dry position? Whatever the case, recapturing away from the centre weakens the e4-square and is quite unjustified. 14…♖ae8

15.h4

This compounds the error, weakening the g4-square and by extension f5. Thomas can play for a win without risk and he simplifies into a knight endgame with a huge positional advantage. 15…♘c8 16.♖ae1 ♘d6 17.a3 ♖xe2 18.♖xe2 ♖e8 19.♔h2 ♘c7 20.♘g1 ♕f5 21.♕xf5 ♘xf5 22.♘f3 ♔f7 23.a4 ♖xe2 24.♘xe2 ♘e3 25.c3 ♔e6

Black threatens to advance his king up the board via f5 and e4, so Khan offers a pawn in order to bring his king into play. Desperate defence, but it at least prolongs the game. 26.g4 ♘xg4+ 27.♔g3 ♘e3 28.b3 ♘e8 29.♘d2 ♘d6 30.♔f3 ♘ef5 31.♘f4+ ♔f7

32.h5 g5 33.hxg6+ hxg6 34.g4 ♘g7 35.c4 ♘e6 36.cxd5

Thomas could keep control with 36…♘xf4 37.♔xf4 cxd5, when Black is safely on track to victory. Instead, he allows himself to be distracted by a long variation at the end of which he has overlooked a resource. 36…♘xd4+ 37.♔e3 ♘c2+ 38.♔d3 ♘b4+ 39.♔d4 g5 40.♔c5

I suspect this came as a surprise. 40…gxf4

With the time control at move 40, the game would have been adjourned around here, which makes what now occurred even more bizarre. Khan would have had time to analyse the position before the evening resumption, and despite that makes an oversight after just a few moves. 41.dxc6 ♘xc6 42.♔xd6 ♘d4

If White chooses 43.♔d5 ♘e6 44.b4, with best play it is impossible for Black to make progress because of the dominant position of White’s king. 43.♔c7? b5 44.a5?

A terrible mistake. 44.axb5 still offers drawing chances.

44…♘xb3 0-1

A simple tactic that wins the game: 45.♘xb3 f3 46.♘d2 f2 47.♔b7 b4 and one of the pawns goes through. Compared to the previous games, a dreadful performance from Khan. Positionally, there were some irresponsible choices; and at the end of the game when his survival instinct usually showed, he overlooked drawing continuations and finally made an outright blunder. Incidentally, Sir George Thomas should be commended for his performance in the tournament (he managed 5½/11), not least because he had to contend with a lady spectator who kept fainting at his board. It happened on two occasions before the tournament committee got wise and as she was about to swoon for a third time in front of the English baronet, she was escorted from the room. She also fainted on Weenink’s shoulders, who was so rattled that he offered Nimzowitsch a draw in a winning position.110 The next round was no less disastrous for Khan. From a comfortable position against Dawid Przepiorka, he weakened his king, inviting pressure, and ended up losing a long endgame. Before going through the next game, please revisit Soultanbeieff-Khan from round 1 to understand its strangeness. Sultan Khan

A.Nimzowitsch Liège (10) 29th August 1930 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘f3 b6 4.g3 ♗a6

This finesse was Nimzowitsch’s invention and is now the main line of the opening. However, the way that Khan plays, the inclusion of the move b2-b3 doesn’t make too much difference to the position. One point is that the white queen no longer has access to the b3 or a4 squares. Soultanbeieff-Khan from round 1 went 4…♗b7 5.♗g2 ♗b4+, etc. 5.b3 ♗b4+ 6.♗d2 ♗xd2+ 7.♘bxd2 ♗b7 8.♗g2 c5 9.dxc5 bxc5 10.0-0 0-0 11.♖e1 ♕e7 12.♖c1 e5

13.e4

Setting up a familiar pawn structure and, once again, it hands over the initiative to Black. Khan has an idea to bring the knights to c3 and e3, which is more purposeful than Soultanbeieff’s play, but it doesn’t change the assessment of the position. I prefer 13.♘h4, starting manoeuvres but keeping a flexible pawn structure. 13…♘c6 14.♘b1 d6 15.♘c3 a5 16.♘d2 ♘d4 17.♘f1 ♗c6 18.♘e3 ♕b7 19.♕d3 a4 20.bxa4 ♗xa4

The advance of the a-pawn has created chronic weaknesses in White’s queenside structure. Khan fought hard, but his ingenuity was never quite able to compensate for the positional deficiencies and he lost after 60 moves. It is

all the more bizarre because he employed the same strategy in his games against Ruben and Takacs at the Olympiad. In the last round Tartakower was a point clear so only needed a draw with Khan to secure first place. With white, he took no chances, playing a delayed form of the French Exchange: 1.e4 e6 2.d4 d5 3.♘c3 ♘f6 4.♗g5 ♗e7 5.exd5 exd5 6.♘f3. Khan recklessly sacrificed a pawn, but Tartakower consolidated and managed to steer into an endgame. Resignation only came on move 57, but it felt inevitable. Four losses in a row. Khan’s fierce desire to play for a win often brought him extra points, but in these last rounds he completely lost his objectivity.

In spite of his collapse at the end of the tournament, Khan’s play was lauded by the press back in Britain: ‘A very commendable performance for a player of such limited experience of masters’ tournaments.’ (The Staffordshire Advertiser) The chess correspondent of The Devon and Exeter Gazette declared, without irony, that Khan had ‘upheld the prestige of this country.’ ‘From the British point of view, however, the performance of Sultan Khan, the British champion, has been very encouraging. Naturally he

could not be expected to continue as he started. In the last five rounds he only added half a point to his opening score of six clear wins. Nevertheless this was sufficient to win him second prize.’ (Birmingham Gazette) How could he lose four games in a row? All the qualities that Sultan Khan had displayed in the first seven rounds of the tournament had deserted him: his positional sense was poor, he miscalculated, and he lacked the grit that often pulled him out of difficult situations. In the November edition of the British Chess Magazine there was an addendum: ‘In our report of the Liège Masters’ tournament last month we should have mentioned that Mir Sultan Khan was suffering from influenza during the last rounds, which was a great handicap to him.’ We can only speculate on the exact nature of his ailment. While this report says ‘influenza’, it is possible that this was a recurrence of the malaria with which he had been afflicted in the British Championship the previous year. Khan suffered from regular periods of ill health throughout his time in Europe. According to R.N.Coles, it was not unusual to see him at the board with his neck wrapped in towels.111 In little over two months Sultan Khan had played 39 games over three events. Such intense competition had had a dramatic effect on his play. In Scarborough his opening play was rough – think of his disastrous loss to Winter. By the time he played in Liège this phase of the game was much improved; at least he managed to avoid the kind of outright catastrophes that had still occurred in Hamburg. I have no doubt that travelling abroad with the British team had been an enormous help to him. During these tournaments he was exposed to a more sophisticated kind of chess than in England and, as a consequence, he was forced to temper his play. In Scarborough he had lost to Colle and Rubinstein; by Liège he was playing as their equal.

CHAPTER 10

Club Matches and a Conference ‘… never before have British and Indian statesmen and rulers of Indian states met, as you now meet, in one place and round one table to discuss the future system of government for India…’ – King George V Following the packed playing schedule over the summer of 1930, not to mention his illness at the end of the Liège tournament, the autumn was a relatively quiet period for Sultan Khan. There were no tournaments in the calendar until Hastings at the end of December. Nevertheless, he was able to keep some match fitness by playing simultaneous displays and club games. He also made several appearances at a new chess club in London.

The Empire Social Chess Club In spite of the difficult economic climate there was an enthusiasm for chess activity which was given expression in the opening of a new club. The Empire Social Chess Club was launched on 6th October at Whiteley’s department store in Bayswater in London’s West End. When the store first started trading in 1911, it ushered in a new commercial era similar to the malls of today. Apart from the different retail outlets, there was a golf course on the roof and a theatre within the building. This was a leisure experience – and a ‘social’ chess club fitted the environment. The club was the brain-child of Arthur Firth, a man of means and a chess enthusiast, who sought to popularise the game by reaching out to the ‘home player’, that untapped legion who were interested in the game but were perhaps intimidated by the serious nature of club chess. In other words, he wanted to bring back the game to the amateur. As the president of the club, Sir Ernest Graham-Little, was to write: ‘Quite a wrong impression, I believe, prevails as to the playing of chess, which can be a very delightful pastime as far removed as possible from the sombre duels of master play as usually pictured. It is

for chess as a game, the finest in the world, and not as the serious study of one’s life, that this Club opens its doors.’112 Firth had approached the Whiteley brothers who owned the department store, and they had generously offered to provide rooms to host the club at virtually no cost – in the hope, no doubt, that they would be welcoming more customers into the building. Opening hours were 10am-1pm and then from 2-6pm, except Saturdays when it closed at 1pm. William Winter would be in permanent attendance as the club professional to offer help and chess advice. An ambitious programme of simultaneous displays, lectures, matches and tournaments was planned. For a modest annual membership fee of 2 shillings and sixpence, as well as access to the club, a magazine was provided. The Social Chess Quarterly magazine would complement the club’s activities by concentrating on the ‘lighter and brighter side of the game’, as well as ‘guidance and instruction’, areas it felt were neglected by the otherwise excellent British Chess Magazine. The spacious lounge just by the restaurant in Whiteley’s was crowded to overflowing for the opening ceremony, with all the leading chess players, organisers, benefactors and journalists in attendance – and naturally, the British champion, Sultan Khan. Lady Margaret Hamilton-Russell113 performed the official opening of the club. Lord Dunsany gave a witty speech: ‘To meet Capablanca,’ he said, ‘made one feel as a mouse would feel when it met an elephant’. As usual, instead of Sultan, Sir Umar Hayat Khan took centre stage, speaking of the international freemasonry of chess, ‘which made chess players of both sexes sisters and brothers all the world over’. He referred to the eastern origins of the game and, somewhat controversially, declared that the Indian form of the game in which a pawn could only go one square on its first move was more difficult than the European style. Personally, he much preferred the Indian form. Twenty-five brand new chess sets were laid out, and after the speeches were over, all were soon in use. Intriguingly, as well as Sir Umar and Sultan Khan, there is mention of a third Indian in attendance who gave Fred Yates a game – and beat him. That could well have been Dr Basalvi, the physician in

Sir Umar’s household, who played regularly in London.114 The Social Chess Quarterly of January 1931 featured a game of Sultan Khan’s but did not name his opponent. I am guessing that this was played in an off-hand game in the Autumn, and certainly fits the magazine’s brief of ‘light and bright’. NN Sultan Khan Empire Social Chess Club 1930 1.e3 c5 2.b3 ♘c6 3.♗b2 e5 4.c4 d6 5.d4 exd4 6.exd4 ♘xd4 7.♗xd4 cxd4 8.♕xd4 ♗e7 9.♘c3 ♗f6 10.♕e4+ ♘e7 11.♘ge2 ♕a5 12.♕c2 0-0 13.0-0-0 ♗f5 14.♕d2 ♘c6 15.g4 ♗xg4 16.♘b5 ♘b4 17.a3

17…♕xb5 18.cxb5 ♖ac8+ 19.♘c3 ♖xc3+ 20.♕xc3 ♘a2+ 21.♔b2 ♗xc3+ 22.♔xa2 ♗xd1 0-1

Sultan Khan’s results from this time were mixed. Playing for the Imperial Chess Club against Lloyds Bank, he lost horribly to H.Felce.115 Then on 14th November he played for a team that Sir Umar had raised to play against the Empire Social Chess Club. As well as playing himself, Sir Umar had also recruited members of his staff: Dr Basalvi, the household physician (spelled incorrectly below); Ghulam Muhammed Khan, his trusted adviser and factotum; and Abdul Aziz

(whose role is unclear). Sultan Khan lost to R.C.Griffith, the editor of the British Chess Magazine and the winner of the British Championship in 1912.

The next day, the Imperial Chess Club played against Cambridge University and Khan faced another difficult opponent, the up-and-coming C.H.O’D.Alexander, president of the university chess club.116 C.H.O’D.Alexander Sultan Khan Imperial v. Cambridge University 15th November 1930 1.e4 c5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.d4 cxd4 4.♘xd4 e5 5.♘f3 ♘f6 6.♗c4 d6

Varying from 6…♗e7 as he played against Felce in October (although it is not a bad move) and shying away from 6…♘xe4 – which in fact is possible. If 7.♕d5 ♕a5+ exchanges queens and although White has some compensation, this is the principled way to play. 7.♘g5! d5

Not the best start. This is the only way to avoid catastrophe on f7, but at least Khan succeeds in stabilising his position over the next few moves and gradually assumes the initiative on the kingside. 8.exd5 ♘a5 9.♗b5+ ♗d7 10.♕e2 ♗d6 11.0-0 h6 12.♘e4 ♘xe4 13.♗xd7+ ♕xd7 14.♕xe4 ♖c8 15.b3 b5 16.♗d2 ♘b7 17.c4 bxc4 18.bxc4 0-0 19.♗c3 f5 20.♕e2 e4 21.♘d2 ♘c5 22.♘b3 ♘d3

A position has evolved that could quite typically arise from a Sicilian Sveshnikov. Compare this with the game Karjakin-Carlsen from Shamkir 2019. 23.♘a5 ♕a4 24.♕d1 ♕e8 25.♖b1 ♕g6 26.♖b7 ♖c7 27.♖xc7 ♗xc7 28.♘c6 ♔h7 29.♔h1 f4 30.♗d4

30.f3 had to be played. 30…f3 31.gxf3 ♕d6 32.f4 ♕xf4 33.♕h5

33…e3!

A beautiful clearance move, allowing the queen to check on e4. 34.♗xe3 ♕e4+ 35.♔g1 ♖f6 36.♖d1 ♗f4 37.♕h4 ♗xh2+ 38.♕xh2 ♕g4+ 39.♕g2 ♕xd1+ 40.♔h2 ♖g6 41.♕e4 ♕h5+ 0-1117

Khan played the attack with determination and style. Unfortunately, the opening was poor, and, perhaps as a result of this, and his defeat against Felce, he never again played the Sicilian with 4…e5. A great pity. His games with it in Scarborough and Hamburg showed that his opponents weren’t familiar with this unfashionable opening and a little research by Khan could have been highly beneficial.

On 13th December Khan gave a simultaneous display at the Imperial Chess Club and won on all 20 boards. That at least was a sign of improvement in his play compared with the year before. All in all though, his mixed results from the few games he played in the autumn hardly augured well for the Hastings Chess Congress that began after Christmas. Given Sultan Khan’s poor English and, perhaps more to the point, his lack of social status, his chess activity was in some part limited by how much time Sir Umar could spend arranging events for him. The problem was that in the autumn, the Nawab was heavily involved in political events.

India Round Table Conference The first India Round Table Conference began in November to discuss the report of the Simon Commission and the constitutional reform of India. Sir Umar, as a member of the council advising the Secretary of State for India, would not have been sitting at the negotiating table, but behind the scenes his role was very important. He would have had a great say in deciding who to invite from India and, when it came to the Conference itself, he welcomed the Indian delegates to the capital of the Empire, catching up with old friends and acquaintances. As one of the most prominent Indians in London, Sir Umar was a key player in smoothing diplomatic relations between the countries, and while there was little doubt that he was already fiercely loyal to the British, that relationship was further cemented when he was appointed aidede-camp to King George V. This was a ceremonial position, but the political symbolism was great. An Indian nobleman had been placed in a trusted position at the heart of the British establishment. King George V (or ‘the King Emperor’ as he was usually styled) opened the conference in the royal gallery of the House of Lords at noon on 12th November 1930. Delegates hastened to their places as the King strode towards a scarlet and gold chair, raised like a throne on a dais, and a hush descended. The King commenced his address precisely as Big Ben struck its first chime, speaking into a silver and gold microphone that broadcast the speech around the world. The momentousness of the occasion could not be doubted. When the King came to this passage, his delivery became slower and more deliberate:

‘More than once the sovereign has summoned historic assemblies on the soil of India, but never before have British and Indian statesmen and rulers of Indian states met, as you now meet, in one place and round one table to discuss the future system of government for India and seek agreement for the guidance of my parliament as to the foundations upon which it must stand.’ The whole speech lasted six minutes and, his work done, the king departed. An impressive piece of theatre. The Maharajah of Patiala – Sir Umar’s old friend and the sponsor of the famous Chail tournament of 1925 – then rose to propose that the Prime Minister, Ramsay MacDonald, should act as chairman, a further mark of the importance of the conference. In this milieu, Sir Umar was in his element, a celebrity even among the nobility, frequently appearing in newspaper reports of dazzling receptions for the delegates. ‘It was a little late when I arrived at Lancaster House last night for the Government reception in honour of the Indian delegates to the Round Table Conference, but a solid block of people were still surging slowly up the magnificent golden stairway, at the head of which the Prime Minister and Miss MacDonald were receiving the guests. For once it was the men who drew all eyes. The women’s dresses, even the pale silks of the Indian ladies, seemed merely a background for the effective black and white of the throng of ambassadors, soldiers and diplomats, with their waistcoats slashed with crimson sashes and their lapels ablaze with decorations. Even more were they a foil for the gorgeous silk coats, tapering white trousers and jewelled turbans of the great Princes and potentates of the Indian Empire. Rank upon rank of people, fair-skinned and olive-skinned, lined the upper balustrade and gazed down upon the scene below. A few of the guests thinned out into the galleries of the Museum and, against a case of Watteau crinolines, I saw the keen features and winged headdress of Colonel Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan.’

(London Notes, The Yorkshire Post)118 Unfortunately, in spite of the good will and warm words expressed by all parties, the Round Table Conference could achieve very little. Reading the speeches, one gains the impression that the British had assembled a cosy club of loyal friends with too many vested interests to propose any radical constitutional change. The Indian National Congress Party, with its avowed declaration of complete independence, had boycotted the Conference and was like the spectre at the feast. In The Times, next to the report of the Conference opening ceremony, there was news of a general strike in Karachi, and demonstrations in Bombay that were brutally suppressed. A cruel and telling juxtaposition. The Conference concluded in January with broad agreement that a federal system of government should be introduced. The Muslim League, fearing Hindu-dominated central control, were cautiously supportive, as this could give them more control in regions with a majority Muslim population. The Princely states, who had been able to maintain their sovereignty under the British in return for their loyalty, were in favour – although they were still anxious to secure guarantees of autonomy. Getting this far had been hard enough, but even these modest proposals of reform would mean nothing if the Congress party back in India wasn’t involved in any agreement. Ramsay MacDonald alluded to this in his closing speech: ‘I regret profoundly that important sections of Indian political activity are not here too,’ and reached out to them: ‘If, in the meantime, there is a response to the Viceroy’s appeal to those engaged at present in civil disobedience, and others wish to cooperate on the general lines of this declaration, steps will be taken to enlist their services’.119 The second India Round Table Conference scheduled for September 1931 would have a different composition.

CHAPTER 11

Hastings Congress 1930/1931 ‘The day of a lion is better than a thousand of a jackal.’ – Tipu Sultan, ruler of the Kingdom of Mysore The Hastings Chess Congress had been growing in reputation since the famous international tournament of 1895, and the Victory Congress of 1919. This was the 11th consecutive year that a winter congress had been held in the seaside resort. Like Ramsgate further round the coast, the town was enjoying a golden period in the late 1920s. With easy access by train from London, the metropolitan populace could enjoy a day trip to the seaside, and there was plenty to keep visitors entertained. A three-mile long promenade had been constructed along the sea front with plenty of hotels; there were theatres, concert halls, and of course the pier, to satisfy holidaymakers’ thirst for entertainment. The delights of Hastings were not quite as evident in the middle of winter, but the Congress was attracting ever greater numbers year by year. This time one hundred players competed at a new venue, the Waverley Hotel in the centre of the town. The British Chess Magazine snobbishly grumbled that it lacked the ‘dignified atmosphere of the Town Hall’, often the venue in previous years, but ‘adequate arrangements for play’ had been made. The Masters tournament was eagerly anticipated. The ‘home’ contingent was as strong as it could be: Sultan Khan, Sir George Thomas, F.D.Yates, W.Winter – clearly the top four in the country; R.P.Michell, always a consistent performer, the young lawyer T.H.Tylor, and Vera Menchik, the Women’s World Champion, who was resident in Hastings. Three foreign players had been invited: Edgar Colle, Max Euwe and José Raúl Capablanca. Colle had won the Hastings premier in 1928/29, took first place in Scarborough in July 1930, and had followed that with decent results in Liège and Frankfurt. He had an aggressive style that was appreciated in England. Max Euwe, the 29-year-old Dutch champion, was also a previous winner

in Hastings – a little further back in 1923/24. Since then he had made steady and strong improvement, though as a secondary school teacher he could only play in the holidays. He had played in the strong Carlsbad tournament of 1929 and, despite a mixed performance, the tournament book had declared: ‘Dr Euwe is one of the few players destined to reach for the world title at some stage.’120 At the start of the tournament, in conversation with the chess correspondent of The Times, Capablanca had judged Euwe to be equal favourite, with himself, to win the tournament. Capablanca had not played a serious tournament since Hastings the previous year. As well as his work for the Cuban Embassy, his energy had been thrown into attempting to secure a rematch for the world title. He had petitioned FIDÉ members at the Congress in Hamburg; contacted organisers all over the world looking for a venue to host the match; searched for financial backers willing to put up the required prize money; and engaged in a legalistic, acrimonious and ultimately fruitless correspondence with Alekhine to persuade him to agree location, dates and terms. As the Hastings tournament got underway, there was an alarming report about Alekhine that appeared in the newspapers. The World Champion had been enjoying a banquet in his honour in the town of Osijek in Croatia. Alekhine had returned to his hotel room at 5am, gone to bed and lit a cigarette, but had fallen asleep – and his bedsheets, and then much else in the room, had caught on fire. Alekhine was rescued from the blaze unconscious, and was expected to make a full recovery, but it was obviously a near thing. The contrast between the smoking and drinking Alekhine and the suave but abstemious Capablanca was stark, and such louche episodes, however unfortunate, only increased the appetite for a re-match. Despite his lack of serious play for a whole year, the Cuban’s reputation on the chessboard was little diminished. Indeed, there was almost blind belief in his abilities. The chess correspondent of the Birmingham Gazette predicted that: ‘Capablanca’s supremacy is not likely to be seriously endangered, but

the representation is good and a keen struggle seems likely for the other places.’ The Times correspondent also named him as the favourite in Hastings, but was more circumspect: ‘We have got into the habit of expecting Capablanca to win the first prize in any tournament in which he is a competitor, and he has done so in the two previous tournaments in which he competed at Hastings. To add to this record should be within his powers, but Dr. Euwe and Sultan Khan are antagonists to whom he cannot afford to yield even a half point, for half points mean a good deal in a short tournament of this kind.’ In discussing Sultan Khan’s prospects, the correspondent was even more prophetic: ‘How far he will go remains to be seen, but he needs very little teaching how to handle the most complicated positions, though he has a strong dislike of a position he can only draw.’ A journalist from the national newspaper Daily Herald sketched the scene in the first round: DRAWING THE LONG BROW AT HASTINGS Moving (Sometimes) Scenes At Chess Congress From Our Special Correspondent, Hastings, Monday. Ssh! You must not laugh! I know it’s funny, but for the love of mike don’t laugh. If your shoes creak, take them off or go home. If you are likely to sneeze or cough, flee while there is time. Ready? Right. Ssh! You may now come with me along narrow corridors and down steep, dim stairs into a smoke-filled basement, and watch some of the world’s best chess players at play.

Yes, I said play. In the brilliantly-lit room are three long green tables, and at each table, facing each other in pairs, are ten chess players. People are moving about, but there is not a sound. The room looks like a headache hospital. Each man looks as though he had just seen his wife and child run over. Ssh! They are thinking. Creep over to the far corner, where most of the spectators are gathered. Here you will find the one calm spot in the room. It is in a navy blue suit and tortoiseshell glasses, and its black hair is sleekly brushed. Its name is Capablanca. He alone has no headache. He doesn’t smoke. Now and then he thinks, but not for long, and not very aggressively. That slim, pale, prepossessed man opposite? That is Colle, the exchampion of Belgium. His right foot under the chair is shaking with mechanical monotony, his left hand holding his face, and a cigarette is trembling. Great stuff this chess! Capablanca has risen silently and stolen away. He knows just how long it will take his opponent to decide about that pawn. He will be back in nice time to see the move. He thinks for a few moments and moves a black piece. Then walks away again. His opponent will light another cigarette. And you and I will be barmy if we stay any longer. Oh. Fresh air again! Well, now I’ll tell you something to restore your sanity. Dr. Alekhine, the world’s chess champion, smoking a final cigarette in bed in his hotel this morning, fell asleep. His cigarette set fire to the bedclothes, which set fire to the furniture. The room was destroyed, but Dr. Alekhine was rescued unconscious, and will recover. You see what brains do for you. A brandy did you say? Earlier in the day I had a talk with Capablanca. ‘Chess is all very well,’ he said in his soft caressing voice. ‘I like it, but there are other things in life besides chess. I lost the world championship in 1927,’ he went on, ‘and I have not played much since. If I feel like it sometime I may try to regain it. But one becomes worse

as one gets older. I was at my best between 1916 and 1921,’ he added.121 Sultan Khan’s game was the first to finish. Sultan Khan R.P.Michell Hastings Premier (1) 29th December 1930 1.d4

Khan had already dabbled with this first move, but starting with this tournament, he switched from 1.e4 and played, almost exclusively, queen’s pawn openings with white. The relaxed autumn schedule had at least given him time to re-think his opening repertoire. 1…♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♗b4 4.e3 0-0 5.♗d3 c5 6.♘e2 ♘c6 7.0-0 d5 8.a3 ♗xc3 9.bxc3

The Nimzo-Indian was still a relatively young opening and the main lines were yet to be determined. At the time, this position had only been reached once before, in Alekhine-Bogoljubow, Triberg 1921, which had continued 9…dxc4 10.♗xc4 b6. Whether Khan knew of this is a moot point. His handling of the middlegame position is straightforward and exemplary.

Michell is wiped out after playing the premature 11…c4, allowing White to advance the kingside pawns with ease. 9…b6 10.cxd5 exd5 11.♘g3 c4 12.♗c2 ♖e8 13.f3 b5 14.e4 ♕b6 15.♔h1 g6 16.♗g5 ♘e7 17.♕d2 ♗b7 18.♕f4 ♘d7 19.e5 ♖ac8 20.♕h4 ♘c6 21.f4 ♘xd4 22.cxd4 ♕xd4 23.♘f5

A simple way to end the game quickly. 23…gxf5 24.♗xf5 ♘f8 25.♗f6 1-0

‘Strenuous chess marked the games played yesterday in the second round of the Masters Tournament in the Hastings Chess congress. So far the anticipation that this would be a fighting contest has been fulfilled, and it is reassuring to note, in view of some fears expressed as to the future of the game, that there has been a complete absence from these early rounds of those premature draws by agreement which are the bane of tournament play.’ (The Scotsman) In round 2 Khan faced Edgar Colle, their third tournament encounter. The Belgian played his trademark system: 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 e6 3.e3, and Khan struggled – as he had against Rubinstein. It’s curious how this seemingly innocuous opening could cause him so much trouble. Nevertheless, he survived an early onslaught, found his way into an endgame, and outplayed the Belgian. It was a similar story to their game in Liège.

E.Colle Sultan Khan Hastings Premier (2) 30th December 1930

position after 36…♗e7-d8

Black’s minor pieces have succeeded in finding secure squares, and White’s king and rook have been blocked out of play. Nevertheless, if White just sits, he can hold the position. Colle (in time pressure?) panics and pushes forward – creating irreparable weaknesses. 37.f6 ♔f7 38.e6+

If 38.♔f2 ♗c7, followed by …♘f3, picks up the e-pawn. 38…♔xe6 39.♗e5

It is quite possible that in his haste Colle had overlooked that 39.f7 loses to 39…♗c7+ 40.♔h3 ♗g2 checkmate. 39…♔xe5 40.f7 ♘g6 41.f8♕ ♘xf8 42.♖xf8 ♗e7 43.♖f2 ♗c6 44.♖f5+ ♔e6 45.♔f2 ♗e4 0-1

Capablanca and Khan had both won their first two games and fittingly they met in the next round. The London Evening News reported that, ‘The other games in the third round received less notice than usual, as the Sultan KhanCapablanca struggle extended over the greater part of two sessions and the board was uncomfortably crowded by onlookers.’

Sultan Khan J.R.Capablanca Hastings Premier (3) 31st December 1930 1.♘f3 ♘f6 2.d4 b6 3.c4 ♗b7 4.♘c3 e6 5.a3

A pioneering move. Decades later, this became known as the Petrosian Variation and developed into the main line of the Queen’s Indian, championed by none other than Garry Kasparov. A handful of players had tried this in the 1920s, but I doubt whether Sultan Khan was aware of these games. Khan’s lack of knowledge, and lack of prejudice, in the opening facilitated his creativity, producing ideas that often challenged the prevailing orthodoxy. Sometimes his novelties were bizarre, some were simply poor, and some have stood the test of time. He had experimented with such short pawn moves on both flanks (a2-a3 and h2-h3) in other games, but this one is the most effective. Black is prevented from playing the bishop to b4, and therefore White gains more control over e4. 5…d5 6.cxd5 exd5

As one would expect from Capablanca, the classical move, maintaining a pawn in the centre. This is perfectly playable, but the modern main line is 6…♘xd5. 7.♗g5 ♗e7 8.e3 0-0 9.♗d3 ♘e4

Showing an impatience to exchange. 9…♘bd7, completing development, is better. 10.♗f4

In spite of his lack of experience on the white side of the opening, Khan shows good understanding. Instead 10.♗xe7 ♕xe7 would free Black’s position as the queen has stepped off the back rank and the rooks are ready to move into the middle of the board. 10…♘d7 11.♕c2

An excellent move, pin-pointing two sensitive spots in Black’s position, h7 and c7. Khan’s habitual willingness to delay castling pays off in this instance. 11…f5

Capablanca said afterwards that the usual move 11…♘df6 should have been played here, but he (and many others) had overlooked a simple tactic: 12.♗xc7 ♕xc7 13.♘xe4 ♕xc2 14.♘xf6+ ♗xf6 15.♗xc2 with a clear extra pawn. 12.♘b5

Black has difficulties in defending the c7-pawn. If 12…c5 13.♘c7 threatens the rook and a fork on e6. 12…♗d6

Capa backs down. The critical move is 12…a6, inviting a capture and setting off wild complications. This position was much discussed after the game, many claiming that Black was fine, but in fact White stands better: 12…a6 13.♕xc7! (best, although 13.♘xc7 is also possible) 13…axb5

14.♕xb7 ♘dc5 15.dxc5 ♘xc5 16.♗c7! (not an easy move to see) 16… ♘xb7 (16…♘xd3+ 17.♔e2 ♕d7 18.♔xd3; and 16…♕d7 17.♘e5! are both fine for White) 17.♗xd8 ♖fxd8 and White can choose between taking on b5 or f5, with the advantage. 13.♘xd6 cxd6

The fixed pawn structure robs Black’s position of its dynamism and the pawn on d6 is a long-term weakness. 14.h4

An excellent move, preventing Black’s expansion on the kingside, and claiming space. As we have seen, Khan was usually unafraid to leave his king in the middle of the board, and in this case it is absolutely appropriate. Black has no possibility of opening the centre. 14…♖c8 15.♕b3 ♕e7 16.♘d2 ♘df6 17.♘xe4

Khan exchanges off the best piece in Black’s position, the knight on e4. 17… ♘xe4 would be met 18.f3 ♘f6 19.♗xf5. 17…fxe4 18.♗e2 ♖c6 19.g4

Khan recognises he is in complete control and expands on the kingside. The king is still safe in the middle. 19…♖fc8 20.g5 ♘e8 21.♗g4

Both Black’s minor pieces are pitifully placed, blocked in by their own pawns, in stark contrast to White’s bishop pair. Taking the pawn is possible, 21.♕xd5+, but would only have given Black’s pieces more freedom. 21…♖c1+

Capablanca does not want to sit and wait but instead changes the nature of the position. He could have procrastinated with 21…♖8c7, but then White could choose between 22.♔d2, or taking the plunge with 22.♕xd5+ in an improved version of the above. 22.♔d2 ♖8c2+ 23.♕xc2 ♖xc2+ 24.♔xc2

White still stands better because of the minor pieces, but from Black’s viewpoint at least the situation is complicated because of the material imbalance. Over the next few moves Khan has to contain the queen, but that is relatively easy considering that the bishop and knight can offer no support. 24…♕c7+ 25.♔d2 ♕c4 26.♗e2 ♕b3 27.♖ab1 ♔f7 28.♖hc1 ♔e7 29.♖c3 ♕a4 30.b4 ♕d7

The queen bounces back, only to appear on the other side of the board. 31.♖bc1 a6 32.♖g1 ♕h3 33.♖gc1

Khan could have grabbed material with 33.♗g4 ♕xh4 34.♗g3 ♕xg5 35.♗c8 ♗xc8 36.♗xd6+ ♔xd6 37.♖xg5 ♗d7, but how easy is it for White to win this position? I can understand why this was rejected. 33…♕d7

If 33…♕xh4 34.♖c7+ ♘xc7+ 35.♖xc7+ ♔d8 36.♖xb7 with a winning material advantage. 34.h5

The squeeze is on. The pawn is less vulnerable here and helps restrict the knight. Black’s pieces can barely move as they must prevent the rooks invading. Capablanca keeps probing with the queen just to keep White busy. Khan continues by repositioning his king, well away from the kingside, and begins an advance of the queenside pawns. The closer they are to the queening square, the easier it will be to win should White succeed in breaking through. 34…♔d8 35.♖1c2 ♕h3 36.♔c1 ♕h4 37.♔b2 ♕h3

37…♕xf2 loses to 38.♗xa6 ♕xc2+ 39.♖xc2 ♗xa6 40.♖c6. 38.♖c1 ♕h4 39.♖3c2 ♕h3 40.a4 ♕h4 41.♔a3 ♕h3 42.♗g3 ♕f5 43.♗h4 g6 44.h6 ♕d7 45.b5 a5 46.♗g3 ♕f5 47.♗f4 ♕h3

In order to make the breakthrough on the c-file, White needs to be able to play the bishop to g4. Capablanca frustrates that manoeuvre by keeping his queen buzzing around that diagonal. For the moment Khan patiently manoeuvres, holding his advantage, not committing himself, and working out the best way to make progress. As is so often the case, the defender jumps out of his passive state before he is pushed, making life much easier for the attacker.

48.♔b2 ♕g2 49.♔b1 ♕h3

Instead, 49…♕xf2 50.♗g4 ♕h4 51.♖g1 traps the queen. 50.♔a1 ♕g2 51.♔b2

If Black continues to wait, for example with 51…♔d7, then White can force the bishop to g4 with 52.♗g3 ♕h3 53.♖g1 followed by ♗f4 and ♗g4 and Black cracks. 51…♕h3 52.♖g1

White is ready to play ♗g4. 52…♗c8

Defending against the threat, but allowing the rook to penetrate.

53.♖c6 ♕h4 54.♖gc1 ♗g4

54…♗d7 55.♗g3 ♕xg5 56.♖xb6 wins. 55.♗f1 ♕h5

55…♕xf2+ loses to 56.♖6c2 ♕h4 57.♖h2. 56.♖e1

Capturing on b6 was possible, but he first prevents the bishop moving in to e2. 56…♕h1 57.♖ec1

57.♖xb6 was possible as 57…♗h3 could be met by 58.♖b8+, but Khan again avoids complications and returns the rook to a protected square. Capablanca returns with the queen, repeating the position, but Khan deviates. 57…♕h5 58.♔c3

With the intention of meeting 58…♗e2 with 59.♔d2, preventing the queen from entering the position. 58…♕h4 59.♗g3

Maintaining the strong pawn chain f2-e3-d4 – by this stage the g5-pawn is superfluous. 59…♕xg5 60.♔d2

Connecting the rooks again before carrying on. 60…♕h5

61.♖xb6

Finally, once all his pieces are coordinated, his king totally safe, and Black without the slightest chance of counterplay, Khan takes the all-important

pawn. 61…♔e7 62.♖b7+ ♔e6 63.b6 ♘f6 64.♗b5

One last finesse. The bishop prevents the knight moving in to d7 to stop the pawn. 64…♕h3 65.♖b8 1-0

The b-pawn marches forward and Khan, after forty moves, will reclaim his queen. The correspondent of the London Evening News got the inside story of the game: ‘It was generally expected that Sultan Khan would be handicapped by lack of “book” knowledge in the opening, but to everyone’s surprise it was Capablanca who “made a bull,” as he termed it. Just one weak move and after that Sultan Khan held on to his advantage in magnificent fashion. Capablanca had awkward doubled pawns on the Queen’s file and later gave up two rooks for the Queen. His bishop and knight were almost immobile. In fact of his last 40 moves about 30 were made by the Queen and he did his utmost to force a draw. Sultan Khan, however, has no liking for draws. He told me that he would rather lose against Capablanca than draw. So he disdained the

certain half-point and went out boldly for the big thing. He succeeded, and although he received a host of congratulations, including Capablanca’s, he took success most modestly.’ Ironically, the vanquished Capablanca was one of the few players in the tournament who could fully appreciate Khan’s patient play. This was a grand strategic performance, executed with style and precision, played with touches of originality that mark the game out as a classic: the early advance of the kingside pawns; the careful side-stepping with the king; the containment of counterplay. How often was Capablanca outplayed in this style? Given Capablanca’s celebrity status and practically invincible reputation, Khan’s victory was headline news all over the country. His successes were moving out of the chess columns and onto the front pages of newspapers. The Daily Herald carried the news on its front page under the headline ‘CAPABLANCA BEATEN’. ‘The Passer-By’ column in the Birmingham Gazette celebrated his success with some dreadful doggerel, ‘Written in Admiration’: Now Sultan Khan is a lad to be feared, His brainbox is suitably geared For this intricate game called chess; He lures you on unless you watch out And then, ere you know what he is about, Defeat you are bound to confess. At football perhaps he is not much good And at cricket or golf he scarcely would Come out in a topmost place, But give him a chessboard of black and white With a chance of an intellectual fight And he’ll wipe his opponent’s face. He looks like a winner, this Eastern gent, Of the eminent Masters’ Tournament

Against the rival high-domes; He was born with the gift, it was his by Fate, Of leading men on to a last checkmate And sending them dazed to their homes. The Hastings & St. Leonards Observer reported an overheard conversation: ‘Well if Capablanca can’t win, Sultan Khan’ … which at least had the merit of brevity. Khan’s next victim was Sir George Thomas, and it was a routine victory after the Englishman had made some positional inaccuracies, then blundered an exchange. After four rounds the leading scores were: Khan 4, Capablanca, Michell and Euwe 2½. ‘With only four rounds completed… Mir Sultan Khan, the British Champion is likely to depose Capablanca the holder.’ (Western Daily Press) Khan was already being anointed, but the pundits were short-sighted. In round 5 Khan faced William Winter, his occasional coach and mentor, and at the chessboard his nemesis. Their record to date: 3½-½ in Winter’s favour. W.Winter Sultan Khan Hastings Premier (5) 2nd January 1931 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♗b4 4.♕b3 c5 5.dxc5 ♘c6 6.♘f3 ♘e4 7.♗d2 ♘xc5

In Liège, against Pleci, Khan had played 7…♘xd2 8.♘xd2 f5 9.e3 0-0 10.♗e2 ♗xc5 11.♘f3 b6 12.0-0-0 ♗b7 13.a3 ♖c8, with a completely satisfactory position that he went on to win. Was he worried about an improvement from Winter? 8.♕c2 f5

At the Olympiad in Hamburg, Stahlberg-Alekhine had continued from this point 9.a3 ♗xc3 10.♗xc3 0-0 11.b4 ♘e4 12.e3 b6 13.♗d3 ♘xc3 14.♕xc3 ♗b7 15.0-0 ♘e7 16.♗e2 ♕e8, and the World Champion started to build an attack on the kingside. Was Khan hoping to follow in the World Champion’s footsteps? Whether he had researched this opening or not, Winter was ready with an improvement on White’s play. 9.g3

A solid kingside fianchetto to counter Black’s kingside attack. 9…0-0 10.♗g2 d6 11.♖d1 e5 12.a3

An inaccuracy. He should have castled.

Here, Khan misses a great chance to press forward: 12…f4 with the basic idea that 13.axb4 ♘xb4 14.♕b1 ♗f5 wins the queen. To save himself White could play instead 13.♘e4 ♗f5 14.axb4 ♗xe4 15.♕c3 ♘e6, but this is a difficult position to handle as the natural 16.0-0 can be met 16…♘cd4. 12…♗xc3 13.♗xc3 ♕c7

That is a strange move. Stepping away from the rook on d1 is of course natural, but 13…♕e7 is closer to the kingside and covers the g5-square, guarding against a knight incursion. 14.0-0

Black needs to be able to play 14…♗e6 to cover d5 and bring the queen’s rook into the game, but the tactics work in White’s favour after 15.♘g5 ♗xc4 16.b4. Somehow, that’s not surprising when Black’s king is exposed; there are potential problems with a pin against Black’s queen on the c-file,

and White’s bishops slash across the board. 14…f4 15.♕d2

A simple move that highlights Black’s lack of development. 15…♖d8 can be met by 16.gxf4. 15…♗g4 16.b4

16.♕xd6 is also good, but this causes even more disruption – and doesn’t let Khan off the hook into an endgame. 16…♘a4

Offside, but 16…♘e4 17.♕d5+ wins a piece; and 16…♘e6 17.♕xd6 ♕xd6 18.♖xd6 is a terrible endgame. 17.♗a1 ♖ad8 18.♕c2 ♘b6 19.♘g5

Powerful punches from Winter. If 19…g6 20.c5 opens the a2-g8 and a1-h8 diagonals. 19…♗f5 20.♗e4

If 20…♗xe4 21.♕xe4 g6 22.♘e6 wins material. 20…h6 21.♗xf5 hxg5 22.gxf4 gxf4 23.c5

This game is a powerful lesson on the theme of bishops versus knights, and the danger of advancing pawns in front of one’s king. If 23…dxc5 24.bxc5 ♘d7 25.♕b3+ ♔h8 26.♕h3+ cuts the king to shreds. 23…♘c8 24.♕b3+ d5 25.♗e6+ ♔h7 26.♕h3+ ♔g6 27.♗xd5 ♘d4 28.♕g4+ ♔h6 29.♗xd4 exd4 30.♕h4+ ♔g6 31.♖xd4

Winter is two pawns up with a continuing attack and he brings home the point without drama. 31…♘e7 32.♗e4+ ♔f7 33.♕h5+ ♔f6 34.♖fd1 ♖h8 35.♕g4 ♖xd4 36.♖xd4 ♕e5 37.♖d6+ ♔f7 38.♗d3 b5 39.♗xb5 g5 40.♗c4+ ♔f8 41.♖d8+ ♔g7 42.♖xh8 ♔xh8 43.♕h5+ ♔g7 44.♕f7+ ♔h8 45.♕f8+

Black resigned. Apart from the inaccuracy in the opening, this was an excellent game by Winter; on the other hand, Khan’s opening play was poor, particularly as he had already had experience with this exact line. In spite of this game, The Scotsman newspaper paid the Indian this compliment: ‘The feature of the first week’s rounds in the International Chess Tournament at Hastings has been the fine play of Sultan Khan, the young Indian master who holds the title of British Champion. Sultan’s natural gift for the game was evident two years ago, and he has in the interval acquired the experience necessary for the gruelling test of modern tournaments. His style, essentially sound, has on occasion a certain liveliness attractive to the spectator.’ It was also reported that Capablanca and Euwe were suffering from severe colds (a common hazard in cold and windy Hastings).122 Still worse, Edgar

Colle had been ‘indisposed throughout the week’, which, with hindsight, was far more ominous. The leading scores after five rounds: Khan 4/5, Michell, Euwe 3½, Capablanca 3. On this occasion Sultan Khan was not reported as being unwell, but he did have to contend with some distractions. During round six he had a visitor: Sir Umar did not want to miss a chance to step into the reflected light of Khan’s success and he came down to Hastings on a break from his duties at the Round Table Conference. To add to the excitement a newsreel camera team was in attendance to record the scene. Khan was playing Vera Menchik, whom he had easily defeated in Scarborough. This encounter was far more combative. The Women’s World Champion played a King’s Indian Defence, a relatively new opening at that time and one with which Khan had very little experience. Nevertheless, he improvised his way through, castling on the queenside (as we have often seen him do) and setting in motion a powerful attack. He had to survive a counterattack from Menchik but punched through at the end. Sultan Khan V.Menchik Hastings Premier (6) 3rd January 1931

position after 38…♘h5-g7 39.f5 gxf5 40.exf5 ♖h4 41.♕g5 1-0

The leading scores after six rounds: Khan 5, Euwe 4½, Capablanca 4. With three rounds to go it was clear that one of these players was going to win the tournament. Sunday, following tradition, was a rest day at the Hastings congress. On the Monday, Khan played Yates. No record of the score survives, probably because the game was long and inconclusive – in other words not very attractive for journalists. ‘Sultan Khan played the defence weakly against Yates, and was in trouble after a dozen moves. As usual, he put up a very hard fight afterwards, though he could not avoid the loss of two pawns in the endgame, which Yates should win.’ (The Times) Meanwhile, Capablanca had an adventure against Winter who, in a level position, blundered his queen in time pressure. ‘I never had such a shock in my life,’ said Capablanca afterwards, laughingly, ‘as when I saw that fat black queen standing there by itself. As it was offered me, I could, of course, do nothing but take it. It was the most remarkable mistake ever made against me.’123 Euwe negotiated Colle’s wild sacrificial attack with a sure hand, and with that win went into the lead. Scores after round 7: Euwe 5½, Khan 5 (plus the adjourned game against Yates), Capablanca 5. Khan and Euwe faced each other in round eight. The game was played on the Tuesday morning after Khan had played two gruelling sessions the previous day against Yates, and still had the adjourned game hanging over his head.124 In view of his precarious position against Yates, did Khan believe that he had to play for a win at all costs against Euwe? Children in India were

brought up hearing tales of Tipu Sultan, the ruler of the kingdom of Mysore, and his heroic resistance against the British. When his forces were finally surrounded by three armies, he refused to surrender, declaring, ‘The day of a lion is better than a thousand of a jackal.’ When Sultan Khan sat at the chessboard, he was imbued with this spirit and it so often brought him points against the odds. How far would it take him against the tournament leader? Sultan Khan M.Euwe Hastings Premier (8) 6th January 1931 1.d4 d5 2.♘f3 ♘f6 3.c4 c6 4.cxd5 cxd5 5.♘c3 ♘c6 6.e3 ♗f5 7.a3

7.♘e5 or 7.♗b5 were better. This time the pawn move at the side of the board serves little purpose.

7…e6 8.♗d3 ♗xd3 9.♕xd3 ♗d6 10.0-0 0-0 11.e4 dxe4 12.♘xe4 ♘xe4 13.♕xe4 ♗e7

White cannot hope for an advantage with this isolated queen’s pawn: without the light-squared bishop there are no attacking chances. 14.♗d2 ♗f6 15.♗c3

At least White is ready to throw the knight on e5 which means that Black does not have time to gang up on the d-pawn with the rooks. Instead Euwe offers an exchange of queens which results in a level endgame.

15…♕d5 16.♕xd5 exd5 17.♖fe1 ♖fe8 18.♖e3 ♔f8 19.♖ae1 ♖ac8 20.g4

This is the first sign that Khan wants to fight for more than a draw. In itself, it is not a mistake. Bringing the king over to d3 to guard the d-pawn is the most secure way to play: 20.♔f1, and if 20…♖xe3 then recapturing with the rook is okay, but 21.fxe3 is rock solid. 20…h6 21.h4

Once again, not a mistake if followed up correctly, but advancing the pawns without the cover of the king feels impatient. Instead, 21.♔f1 is still fine. 21…♖xe3

With this, Euwe offered a draw. There was no reason to decline. Once again, I like 22.fxe3, followed by ♔f2 and, if necessary, moving the rook across to support the kingside pawns. Once the d-pawn is supported then the knight and bishop are free to move and White has no difficulties. 22.♖xe3

The problem with this is that White still needs to keep the bishop and knight protecting the d4-pawn. 22…♖e8 23.♖xe8+

I see nothing wrong with 23.♔g2, letting Black exchange on e3 and with the pawn covering the d4-pawn White’s minor pieces are free to move. 23…♔xe8 24.♔f1

The king moves up to d3 to cover the pawn, but it’s the wrong direction: the g- and h-pawns need protection. 24.♔g2 was right and the position should

still be tenable. 24…♔d7 25.♔e2 ♔e6 26.♔d3 g6 27.♗d2 h5

Euwe opens a path for the king to attack White’s h-pawn. 28.g5

Exchanging on h5 would not make a difference: the king would still get access to f5 and g4 – and then the h-pawn. 28…♗d8 29.♘e1 ♔f5 30.f3 f6 31.f4 ♔g4 32.♘g2 ♔g3 33.f5

A desperate piece sacrifice which is easily refuted, though he is lost anyway. 33…♔xg2 34.fxg6 ♘e7 35.g7 ♘g8 36.♗f4 fxg5 37.hxg5 ♔f3 38.♗b8 ♗xg5 01

Khan’s play in the endgame has the appearance of someone who was looking just one or two moves ahead. There is no connection between the advance of the kingside pawns and the king march to d3 – one or the other, but not both. I cannot imagine that he considered his moves for very long. If he had paused for reflection somewhere between moves 20 and 25, there was still time to steer the game towards a draw. This was the play of an exhausted man, and to make matters worse he still had to finish his adjourned game against Yates in the afternoon. The situation appeared hopeless: Yates had bishop and three pawns against Khan’s knight and one. Yet the Indian hung on for a gruelling ninety-five moves before the Yorkshireman abandoned his attempts to win.125

‘It was not easy to win, though a master like Yates should have been equal to the task, when keen amateurs all over the room were finding the win by over-the-board analysis. One of the drawing possibilities was a neat stalemate, but eventually after exchanging one pawn, the Indian expert got a position in which he could effectually block the two passed and combined pawns with king and knight.’126 It’s a pity that, so far, no one has been able to uncover the game. Euwe was a clear point ahead going into the final round as Capablanca had only managed to draw with Michell. Scores after 8 rounds with one round to play: Euwe 6½, Capablanca, Khan 5½, Michell 4, Thomas, Yates, Winter 3½, Menchik 3, Tylor, Colle 2½. The ninth and final round was played on the Wednesday morning. Euwe took no chances and in a slightly advantageous position against Thomas, offered a draw, guaranteeing first place. Capablanca outplayed Menchik, winning a pawn and then an endgame with no complications. Meanwhile Khan was having a disastrous time against one of the back markers in the tournament. T.H.Tylor Sultan Khan Hastings Premier (9) 7th January 1931

position after 24…♖f8xf7

Tylor had played the Colle system. Khan, not for the first time, met it poorly and landed, a pawn down, in this miserable endgame. Here, unbelievably, a draw was agreed. I can only imagine that Tylor was eager to have the tournament over. He can play on with absolutely no risk of losing.

The first four prizes were: £15, £12, £8, £5, and non-prize winners received 10 shillings for every game won. Euwe had now played four tournaments in England, the first in 1919, and won them all. At the prize-giving, he spoke appreciatively of the organisers, adding that, ‘We shall take back very pleasant memories of this charming seaside place’. Capablanca also thanked the club officials and remarked that, ‘By holding these annual congresses, Hastings kept in line with the leading towns in the country where chess was supported. The town attracted some of the best Continental talent, and by this association the English players were gradually coming up to the strength of the foreigner. If this improvement continued it would not be long before an English player carried off the first prize’ – which was met by laughter and applause. The polished flattery of a diplomat.127 With hindsight we can see this tournament as a changing of the generations. Capablanca had been eclipsed by the younger Euwe, who, apart from his one reverse against Menchik, had played with skill and enterprise.

The British Chess Magazine predicted that ‘The popular Dutch champion is still under thirty, so he should be a strong candidate for the world championship before long.’ With fewer possibilities to play in top-class tournaments, players took longer to mature in those days. Capablanca’s technique was still superb, as displayed in his victories against Yates, Tylor and Menchik. His openings, however, were too predictable. That led to a poor position against Winter and draws against Thomas and Michell – players he should have been dispatching with ease. According to the British Chess Magazine, Capablanca ‘admitted that he is not as good a player as he used to be, and when asked why he said that by giving up all his life to any one game a man became a crank’. Was that a dig at the chess-obsessed Alekhine? The BCM continued: ‘The ex-champion may be tiring of chess somewhat, but his prowess is still there. The old purpose is what seems lacking.’ What about his game against Sultan Khan? We have to give credit to Khan for his original opening and enterprising play. He skilfully exploited Capablanca’s opening inaccuracy and then controlled the game in exemplary fashion. In general, Khan’s transition to 1.d4 was a success: he experienced no difficulties in his games with it here. Unfortunately, with the black pieces his openings were far less reliable, and that led him into trouble. Scoring one point from the final three games was a tragedy. The effort of holding the 95-move draw against Yates must have affected his play in rounds eight and nine. He came so close. Nevertheless, there was considerable optimism expressed over Khan’s result. On his visit to Hastings, Sir Umar had proposed a scheme in which four of the best players in the world might form a tournament among themselves with the winner taking the title of World Champion. I wonder if he had Sultan Khan in mind as one of those players?128 Meanwhile, Khan was claimed for the Empire: ‘One cannot, however, help but feel gratified that at last the British Empire has managed to produce a player who can assert himself among the best foreign masters.’ (Birmingham Gazette)

A few days after the end of Hastings, Khan would have a chance to test this assertion as he travelled to Austria for a match with one of the most experienced competitors on the European circuit.

CHAPTER 12

Tartakower versus Khan ‘If the Indian goes on improving we may, perhaps, some day see him competing for the championship of the world.’ – The Hastings and St. Leonards Observer Sultan Khan travelled to Austria almost immediately after the end of the Hastings tournament to play a 12-game match against Dr Savielly Tartakower. The match took place in Semmering, a chic holiday resort around 60 miles south of Vienna, at the Grand Hotel Panhans. The owner was Wilhelm Zimdin, a businessman with hotel and casino concerns in several countries, who presumably sponsored the match. I am guessing that arrangements had been made, or at least initiated, after Tartakower and Khan had taken the top two places in the Liège tournament the previous August. Tartakower was an inveterate gambler, which might explain the good relations with the Grand Hotel (and its casino).129 Even in the bohemian and nomadic chess world, Savielly Tartakower was one of the most colourful personalities. Born in 1887 in the southern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don to Jewish Austrian-Polish parents, he studied law in Vienna and Geneva, moved to Paris, but represented Poland in the Chess Olympiads. After the First World War he became a chess professional, enjoying considerable success; it is estimated that during the 1920s he was among the top 10 players in the world. He had probably reached the peak of his powers at the time of this match. Tartakower was known for his highly original opening systems – and the names he attached to them. Inspired by a great ape on a visit to a New York zoo, he played 1.b4, naming it ‘The Orangutan’ – which has stuck. Many of his ideas have since become absolutely standard in modern tournament play. One only needs to mention the Catalan (1.d4 d5 2.c4 e6 3.g3); and the Tartakower System of the Queen’s Gambit Declined (…h7-h6 and …b7-b6) to appreciate the worth of his conceptions. He coined the term

‘Hypermodern’ to describe the unorthodox ideas championed by a new generation of Central-European players such as Nimzowitsch, Breyer, Grünfeld, Réti and himself. The Hypermodern school had a profound influence on the development of modern chess strategy. Tartakower also established a reputation as a prolific author and journalist, famous for his aphorisms. One of his most famous, ‘The winner of the game is the player who makes the next-to-last mistake’, might well have applied to this match. The Wiener Schach-Zeitung noted that there were two essential conditions for a match to be successful: the first one, sporting – that the outcome of the match should be wide open; and from a chess viewpoint, that both contestants should be fighters, unafraid to take risks. Both preconditions were fully met.

Sultan Khan S.Tartakower Match, Semmering (1) 17th January 1931 1.d4 e6 2.♘f3 ♘f6 3.c4 c5 4.♘c3 cxd4 5.♘xd4 ♗b4

6.♗d2

‘Usual is the sharp move 6.♕d1-b3. However, Sultan Khan does not like complicated variations as he only knows opening theory from the perspective of a beginner. As he has not mastered any European language, the entire canon of chess literature is for him like a library locked by seventy-seven seals. This is of course not ridiculous, but regrettable. If Sultan Khan, in spite of this, celebrates success, then it is even more laudable, and it is unimaginable how strongly he would play if he were able to study theory properly. But perhaps he neglects European languages for as long as possible in order to feel in his soul the kind of chess that God granted him, untainted by culture.’ (Hans Kmoch, Wiener Schach-Zeitung) Poetically put, but a perceptive comment. One of the joys of playing chess is to be able to express oneself. Khan must have appreciated the help that he was given in remedying his deficient opening repertoire, yet at the same time he must have had the feeling that he did not truly own the ideas he was playing and therefore continued, largely, to improvise at the start of the game. 6…0-0 7.e3 ♘c6 8.a3 ♗e7 9.♕c2 b6 10.♘xc6 dxc6 11.♗e2 ♕c7 12.0-0 e5 13.e4

If followed up correctly, not bad, but Khan underestimates the positional defects of the move (the weakening of the d4-square); quite extraordinary when we think back to his experiences in Liège against Soultanbeieff and Nimzowitsch. 13…♗e6 14.h3 ♖ad8 15.♗e3 h6 16.b4 ♘h7

White has to play 17.b5 so as to get a square for the knight on d5, and his play to this point can be justified. 17.♖ad1 ♗g5 18.♕c1 ♖d4

19.♕c2

Instead of this Kmoch believed that 19.♖xd4 was the best continuation, however Black has a couple of attractive possibilities: 19…exd4 20.♗xg5 ♘xg5 21.f4 dxc3 22.fxg5 ♕e5 23.gxh6 ♖d8, with a continuing initiative; or 21…♘xh3+ 22.gxh3 dxc3 23.♕xc3 c5 and it is hard for White to hold the kingside together and cover the d-file. It’s a moot point whether these positions would have offered White better chances than the game. However, what one can say is that the nature of the struggle would have been changed. Instead Khan accepts his positional disadvantages in the hope of holding out – but is easily outplayed. 19…♗xe3 20.fxe3 ♖xd1 21.♖xd1 ♖d8 22.♕a4 ♖xd1+ 23.♕xd1 ♕e7 24.♕d3 ♕h4

25.♘d1 ♕e1+ 26.♗f1 ♘f6 27.♘f2 ♔h7 28.b5 cxb5 29.cxb5 ♘d7 30.♘d1 ♘c5 31.♕e2 ♕xe2 32.♗xe2 ♘xe4,

and Tartakower converted the extra pawn after 54 moves. A poor start for Khan. If this first game gave the impression that he had made little progress in his strategic understanding, the second could persuade one of the opposite. Khan played the Taimanov Sicilian (as it came to be known) 1.e4 c5 2.♘f3 e6 3.d4 cxd4 4.♘xd4 ♘c6 5.♘c3 a6, quickly gained the two bishops and headed into a comfortable endgame. S.Tartakower Sultan Khan Match, Semmering (2) 18th January 1931

position after 34.♖e1-d1

Tartakower offered a draw at this point – which was declined. His last move was a mistake allowing Khan to carry out a pawn break on the queenside. 34…♗e7 35.♘d4 b4 36.axb4 axb4 37.♘f3 bxc3 38.♘e5+ ♔g7 39.bxc3 ♗c8 40.♖c2 ♗f6 41.♖dc1 ♗xe5

The game was adjourned here. Black has a clear advantage due to White’s two isolated pawns. 42.fxe5 ♖bc6 43.♗f1

Exchanging pawns with 43.g4 hxg4 44.♗xg4 d4 45.♖g1 offers the best

hope. 43…♖c5 44.♗d3 ♗d7 45.♔g1 ♗a4 46.♖a2 ♗b3 47.♖a3 ♖xc3 48.♖xc3 ♖xc3

Tartakower dragged out the game to move 71, but once the c-pawn had dropped, he was lost. Neither player showed much defensive resilience in these first games. In fact, the quality of play from both sides was uneven throughout the match. There were several contributing factors to this: Khan’s poor and unusual openings; Khan’s often bizarre positional errors; Tartakower’s poor calculation. To add to this, halfway through the match it was reported that Tartakower was suffering from ‘severe rheumatic complaints’.130 On the positive side, in several games Khan displayed excellent endgame technique: Sultan Khan S.Tartakower Match, Semmering (5) 22nd January 1931

position after 74…♗d3-b5

Khan had done well to squeeze a winning position from a classic knightagainst-bad-French-bishop endgame. He now found a neat way to force his king forward: 75.♘g8+ ♔f7 76.♔d6!

If 76…♔xg8 77.♔e7 ♔g7 78.d6 ♗a4 79.d7 ♗xd7 80.♔xd7, and in this well-known position White can force the win of the g-pawn. 76…♗a4 77.♘h6+ ♔e8 78.♘g4 ♗c2 79.♘e5 ♗e4 80.♔e6 ♗f5+ 81.♔f6 ♗e4 82.d6

Black is helpless against the advance of the d-pawn and the loss of the gpawn. 82…♗c2 83.d7+ ♔d8 84.♔e6 ♗f5+ 85.♔d6 ♗xd7 86.♘xd7 ♔e8 87.♘e5

Black resigned. From Khan’s viewpoint, the one positive opening experience was game 8, where Tartakower played his speciality 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.f3, and this was by all accounts a system that Khan had prepared for in advance: 3…e6 4.♗d3 ♘f6 5.♗e3 c5 6.c3 cxd4 7.cxd4 dxe4 8.fxe4 ♘xe4 9.♘f3 ♗b4+ 10.♘bd2 ♘xd2 11.♘xd2 ♗xd2+ 12.♕xd2 ♘c6 13.0-0 0-0. Although White has some compensation in the form of the two bishops, Black has an extra pawn and a solid position. The middlegame was messy but Khan came through at the end to win. 3…e6 had already been recommended by another Austrian player, Hans Kmoch. I am guessing that Winter, who played the Caro-Kann, had prepared Khan for this game back in London. Apart from that, Khan’s openings were generally very poor. Having previously suffered on the black side of the Colle System, he tried it out with white, but soon discovered that accuracy was needed there too. Sultan Khan S.Tartakower Match, Semmering (11) 29th January 1931 1.♘f3 ♘f6 2.d4 e6 3.e3 b6 4.♗d3 ♗b7 5.♘bd2 c5 6.0-0 ♘c6 7.c3 ♕c7 8.♖e1 ♗e7 9.a3 d5 10.b3 0-0 11.♗b2 e5 12.dxe5 ♘xe5 13.♘xe5 ♕xe5 14.f4 ♕c7 15.♕c2 ♗d6 16.♘f3 ♖fe8 17.♖ad1 ♖ad8 18.h3 ♖e7 19.♗c1 a6 20.♖f1 ♖de8 21.♕a2 b5 22.♗b1

Right out of the opening Khan had injudiciously advanced the f-pawn. As Albert Becker exclaimed in the Wiener Schach-Zeitung: ‘Terrible! Since one cannot assume that Sultan Khan would have been aware of the inferiority of White’s pawn structure, then one has to view this as a challenge to a healthy, scientific playing approach.’ Tartakower played the obvious 22…♖xe3 23.♗xe3 ♖xe3 24.b4 ♗xf4

and quickly ripped apart the kingside. After eleven games the scores were level: three wins each and five draws. Game 12 was the decider. S.Tartakower Sultan Khan Match, Semmering (12) 30th January 1931 1.♘f3 d5 2.b3 ♘f6 3.♗b2 ♘bd7 4.e3 e6 5.c4 ♗d6 6.♘c3 c6 7.♕c2 0-0 8.♗e2 a6

Bizarrely, if Tartakower had played here 9.d4, they would have reached the same position as in the previous game, but with reversed colours. Instead, perhaps emboldened by Khan’s weak play in the previous game, hubris takes over. 9.e4? dxe4 10.♘xe4 ♘xe4 11.♕xe4 e5

Perhaps this had been overlooked. 12.♘xe5? ♘xe5 13.♗xe5 ♖e8 leads to the win of a piece. From here Khan takes control of the centre and never lets go. 12.♕c2 ♕e7 13.0-0-0 e4 14.♘d4 ♘f6 15.g4 c5 16.♘f5 ♗xf5 17.gxf5 ♗e5 18.♖hg1 ♖ad8 19.♖g2 ♔h8

A simple and effective defensive step. With White’s pressure on the g-file neutralised, Black’s central dominance tells. 20.♖dg1 ♖g8 21.♗c3 ♗d4 22.♗d1 ♕e5 23.♗a5 ♖de8 24.♗c3 b5 25.cxb5 axb5 26.f3 e3 27.♗xd4 cxd4 28.♔b1 ♘d5 29.♕e4

So far it has been a perfect performance from Khan. Here 29…♘f4 would have put an end to the game swiftly. Instead, the endgame drags on, although the win was never in doubt. 29…♕xe4+ 30.fxe4 ♘f4 31.♖g4 ♘h3 32.♖f1 ♘f2

The game was adjourned here and resumed on the next day. 33.♖g2 ♖xe4 34.dxe3 dxe3 35.♗e2 ♖e5 36.♖c1 ♖xf5

Two pawns is too much. Nevertheless, Tartakower fought on and the decision only came on move 77. Writing later, Tartakower was generous to Khan: ‘… a triumph for my adversary who demonstrated that he possessed peerless tenacity and imagination. The result of this match (+3 -4 =5) convinced me of the old truth that optimism, a precious quality in tournaments, is an evil counsellor in such contests.’131 The British Chess Magazine spoke of Khan’s ‘splendid achievement’ and after his strong performance in Hastings, thought it ‘a prelude, it seems bound to be, to still greater triumphs.’ The chess correspondent of The Hastings and St. Leonards Observer was even more bullish: ‘Sultan Khan, by his victory over Dr Tartakower, steps into quite the front rank of chess masters […] If the Indian goes on improving we may, perhaps, some day see him competing for the championship of the world.’ The Wiener Schach-Zeitung gave a more sober assessment of the match: ‘Considering his performances up till now, the Indian’s victory is not at all surprising and represents a new success for the younger generation. However, one cannot speak of a superiority of Sultan Khan over Tartakower. That is evident from the decisive last game in which Dr Tartakower was too much inclined to risk all. On top of this, in the course of the match he was handicapped by physical indisposition.’

The British Chess Magazine reported that, ‘The victor returned to London on Saturday, February 7th, and received many warm congratulations at Sir Umar Hayat Khan’s house in Regent’s Park on the following day. He will not be playing in the Nice tournament, March 11th-20th; but, all being well, he will lead the London team in the cable-match with Washington.’132

CHAPTER 13

Gone to the Dogs ‘… a most interesting combination which only just failed and which, at any rate, put two British champions on their mettle.’ – London Evening News Sir Umar Hayat Khan had been President of the All-India Coursing Club for the past eleven years, owning over 100 greyhounds in India. He indulged his passion for the sport in England too, owning some dogs and regularly attending track races, as well as the more brutal pursuit of hare coursing. This generally involves two greyhounds competing against each other to catch a hare. Points are awarded for speed and ‘turning’ the hare – not just for the kill. The sport was made illegal in the UK in 2005. The premier coursing event in England was the Waterloo Cup, held annually on open country in Altcar, just north of Liverpool in the north-west of England. This was enormously popular with the general public, attended by thousands of people. It was only natural that Sir Umar should want to visit, and Sultan Khan and Fred Yates went along too – probably not out of their fondness for blood sports. They would be visiting the Liverpool City Chess Club. Whether Khan really wanted to be travelling away again just a few days after returning from Austria is open for discussion, particularly in wintery February. At least Yates was there to keep him company and it must have been through him that the invitation to Liverpool was secured.133 Yates was also a member of the Imperial Chess Club and met Khan regularly at team matches, so this was a natural pairing. It also shows that Khan was still receiving informal advice, at the very least, from other English players, and possibly direct coaching. Sultan Khan gave a simultaneous display, and out of 25 games he won 19, drew 4 and lost 2 – one of these losses was against Gerald Abrahams, whom we know from their training game the previous year, as well as the 1929 British Championship. The following day Khan and Yates played a

consultation game against Abrahams and Edmund Spencer (a veteran of several British Championships in the 1920s). It is of interest as it demonstrates what could happen if Khan got the opening right. E.Spencer & G.Abrahams Sultan Khan & F.D.Yates Consultation game, Liverpool City Chess Club February 1931 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘f3 b6 4.♘c3 ♗b7 5.♗g5 ♗e7 6.♕c2 d5 7.cxd5 ♘xd5 8.♗xe7 ♕xe7 9.e4 ♘xc3 10.bxc3 0-0

Black’s opening play has been prudent and straightforward. The influence of Yates is clear. 11.♗d3 ♘d7 12.0-0 c5 13.d5 g6 14.♖fe1 exd5 15.exd5 ♕d6 16.♗c4 ♖fe8 17.♕d2 ♔g7 18.♘g5 ♘f6

Black is starting to gain control, so the two Liverpool players decided to lash out. Although Black’s king is displaced, the attack is easy to parry. 19.♘xf7 ♔xf7 20.♖e6 ♖xe6 21.dxe6+ ♔e7 22.♕h6 ♖g8 23.♗b3 ♕e5 24.♖d1 ♗c6 25.♕d2 ♘g4 26.g3 ♘xh2 27.♕d7+ ♗xd7 28.♖xd7+ ♔e8 29.♗a4 ♕e1+ 30.♔xh2 ♕xf2+ 31.♔h3 ♕f1+ 32.♔h2 b5 0-1134

CHAPTER 14

Insull Trophy Cable Match, LondonPhiladelphia ‘Whitaker was nothing if not an accomplished conman…’ – John S. Hilbert Transatlantic cable matches had a tradition going back to 1895. A new series was begun in 1926 on the initiative of the Hamilton Chess Club in Chicago and a handsome trophy of a silver rook was donated by Samuel Insull, a British-born utilities magnate. Matches were to be played between British and American cities over six boards. London had defeated Chicago in 1926, then New York in 1927. There had been an annulled match against Washington in 1928 after a dispute over the transmission of one of the moves, and a return match in 1930 that had been drawn. In 1931 Washington had issued a further challenge to London, but just a fortnight before the arranged date, they had cancelled, suggesting Philadelphia instead. ‘The officials of the London League, although taken completely by surprise, and though they doubtless knew that Philadelphia has a greater chess reputation than Washington, at once consented, like true sportsmen, to the change’. (The Sunday Times) The London team comprised: Khan, Yates, Michell, Buerger, Winter and Sergeant. Sir George Thomas had been invited but was already committed to playing in a tournament in Nice. In any case, this was a strong line-up. On Saturday 21st March, the team assembled in an upper room of the prestigious Royal Automobile Club in the very heart of London – with the Insull trophy on display. Players and tellers were roped off from the many spectators that attended the event and, in an adjoining room, the moves were then telephoned through to the Western Union Company’s City offices, and cabled to New York. From there they were sent to the Hotel Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, where the American team were installed.

The Sunday Times reported that, ‘Some of the moves, and the replies, came through with remarkable rapidity’, but apparently not all of them. While there were no disputes, play was slow. The games started at 2pm on Saturday afternoon and were played in two sessions: the first until 7pm followed by a break for refreshment; then from 8pm until 1am on the Sunday morning. After ten hours of play only one game had been finished: William Winter won when, bizarrely, his opponent exceeded the time limit. Sultan Khan’s board attracted the greatest interest from spectators – his victory over Capablanca and defeat of Tartakower had raised his profile still further. Sultan Khan N.T.Whitaker Insull Trophy Cable Match, London RAC Club 21st March 1931 1.♘f3 d5 2.d4 ♘f6 3.e3 c5 4.♘bd2 ♘c6 5.c3

Khan is still experimenting with Colle systems, but this time he delays the development of the king’s bishop. His opponent takes steps to prevent White’s bishop from reaching d3, but allows Khan to create pressure on the queenside. 5…cxd4 6.exd4 ♗f5 7.♕a4 ♕a5 8.♕xa5 ♘xa5

The early exchange of queens was thought by some to be ‘not too promising’,135 but Khan reaches a position with which he is comfortable. 9.♘e5 ♘d7 10.f4

As we have seen before, Khan happily advances pawns, but giving away the e4-square is risky. 10…f6 11.♘xd7 ♔xd7 12.♗e2 e6 13.0-0 h5 14.b4

And again! In a way this is consistent with his previous advance: he is using his space on both sides of the board to restrict Black. 14…♘c6 15.♘b3 b6 16.♗e3 ♗d6 17.♖fc1

Over the last couple of moves Black had the chance to put a halt to White’s queenside demonstration with 17…a5 (or 16…a5). In both cases a2-a3 would be possible with balanced chances. Instead, Whitaker overestimates his kingside play and underestimates Khan’s queenside initiative. 17…♖ag8 18.♗b5 g5 19.fxg5 fxg5 20.c4 ♗d3 21.♗xc6+ ♔xc6 22.c5

From this moment on Black fails to find a foothold. The rooks are stuck out of play and the king lacks cover. Khan’s initiative is simply overwhelming. 22…♗f4 23.cxb6+ ♔xb6 24.♖e1 h4 25.♘c5 ♗f5 26.a4 ♗d6 27.♗d2 ♖h6 28.♖ac1 ♖g7 29.b5 e5 30.♘b3 ♗a3 31.♗a5+ ♔b7 32.♖c3 e4 33.♖f1 ♗g4 34.♘c5+

This was where play was ceased in the early hours of Sunday morning. Khan has a winning position. The knight has to be taken or it’s mate on the back rank: 34…♗xc5 35.dxc5. The combination of the advanced queenside pawns and the rook’s invasion on the f-file are too much for Black to bear. But that wasn’t the end of the story.

With just one game decided (Winter’s victory) and five games outstanding, the result of the match was in the balance. After some bargaining, the following results were agreed as a package deal on the night: Sultan Khan ½-½ N.T.Whitaker F.D.Yates ½-½ J.Levin R.P.Michell 1-0 E.J.Sharp V.Buerger ½-½ D.G. Weiser W.Winter 1-0 B.F.Winkelman E.G.Sergeant 0-1 S.Mlotkowski Giving a final score of London-Philadelphia 3½-2½. This was London’s third victory in the cable contest and entitled them to permanent possession of the Insull Trophy. Unfortunately, Khan had had to consent to a draw for the greater good. The London team had won without sending games off for adjudication, which would have dragged out the whole affair. I am sure that the decision to accept the Philadelphians’ deal was influenced by the disputed match result of 1928 and the desire to avoid another controversy. Looking at the final positions of all the games, and in particular Khan-Whitaker, this was a flattering result for the Americans, and they knew it: they would not have agreed to a match loss otherwise. According to Winkelman from the Philadelphia team, who later supplied information to the organisers in London, only Whitaker believed that his position was tenable. Frankly, I doubt whether even he thought that. Through obstinacy, and playing on others’ good will, Whitaker had managed to save his own skin. The episode was an injustice towards Khan, though the American was only displaying behaviour that he had exhibited, to a greater or lesser extent, throughout his life. Whitaker was a manipulator, a fraudster, a conman and a thief. Norman Tweed Whitaker was born in 1890 into an affluent middle-class family in Philadelphia. He proved to be talented academically, graduating first in German literature, and then in law, and from 1916 worked as an attorney in the US patent office. Around this time, he also established himself as one of the most promising chess players on the burgeoning tournament

circuit in the USA. By 1921 he was scheduled to play a challenge match with Frank Marshall for the title of US Champion but failed to appear: he had been arrested and was later convicted, along with several members of his family, of stealing a car and perpetrating an elaborate insurance scam. For these crimes he served two years in prison and was disbarred from practising law. Remarkably, for someone so gifted and well educated, this episode did not deter him from criminal activity. Over the years, he spent several terms in prison for crimes including fraud, impersonation, supplying drugs and molestation of a minor. His most notorious and bizarre crime was during the Lindbergh kidnapping in 1932 when he and an accomplice had persuaded a wealthy heiress to part with thousands of dollars as ransom money in return for Lindbergh’s child. Whitaker was arrested and convicted of attempted extortion, serving 18 months of a three-year sentence. John S. Hilbert, the author of Shady Side – The Life and Crimes of Norman Tweed Whitaker, wrote that: ‘Whitaker was nothing if not an accomplished conman, playing his tactical moves in life as much as over the board. His problem, one he ultimately never solved either on the board or off, was how to concentrate on accumulating the small advantages that can result, eventually, in a strategic victory.’

CHAPTER 15

A Soirée with Capablanca ‘The vast majority of players will sigh for more enlarged brains than for enlarged boards.’ – The Evening Standard Capablanca had returned to Europe. En route to Amsterdam for a match against Euwe, he landed on 12th June 1931 in Plymouth, came up to London and was quickly in action, giving a simultaneous display to the Maccabean Chess Club on Sunday 14th June, exactly as he had done two years previously when Sultan Khan had made his debut into London society. It goes without saying that Khan did not participate on this occasion, but the two did meet at a soirée hosted by the ever-gregarious Sir Umar Hayat Khan in Capablanca’s honour on 18th June. They even met over the chessboard. The former World Champion was persuaded to play a game of Indian chess – the first time he ever tried it. Although the results of the games aren’t known, the British Chess Magazine remarked that Capablanca ‘proved that he could adapt himself admirably to this form of the game, of which the subtleties are not less, and in some respects much greater, than those of the variety almost universal.’ Years later in his book Chess Lectures, Capablanca reflected on this meeting: ‘… Sultan Khan, ex-champion of Great Britain, explained to me the differences between our kind of chess and the Indian form of chess. Sultan Khan had become champion of India at Indian chess136 and he learned the rules of our form of chess at a later date. The fact that even under such conditions he succeeded in becoming champion reveals a genius for chess which is nothing short of extraordinary.’ Capablanca’s visit to England was reported in the newspapers, the main topics of conversation being (inevitably) negotiations with Alekhine for a potential rematch; and Capa’s promotion of a new form of chess that was

played with the same number of pieces, but with varied movements. Apparently, the new rules would make it more difficult for a player to force a draw deliberately if he saw that he could not win.137 Capablanca had also suggested playing on a new 80-square chessboard, to which the Evening Standard chess correspondent had retorted, ‘The vast majority of players will sigh for more enlarged brains than for enlarged boards.’ The former World Champion had intimated previously that chess in its present form was becoming exhausted. This promotion of a rule change was an expression of his frustration and ennui that had developed from the dysfunctional negotiations with Alekhine. A few decades later, there was an echo of this with Bobby Fischer’s mood during his self-imposed exile, and his proposal to shuffle the pieces on the first rank. This idea, however, judging by the FIDÉ approved Fischer Random World Championship tournament in November 2019, seems to be catching. When Capablanca sat down to play Euwe in July, his play was sometimes as tired as his mood. There were several unambitious draws, though in the end the Cuban succeeded in edging the 10-game match by winning two games with the remaining eight drawn.

José Raúl Capablanca and Max Euwe.

CHAPTER 16

Prague International Team Tournament 1931 ‘You have an Indian playing for England?’ ‘No, for the British Empire.’ The British Chess Federation committee met in London in April to agree on a team for the International Team Tournament in Prague, from 11-26th July. Five players were selected: Sultan Khan, Fred Yates, William Winter, Sir George Thomas (captain) and Victor Wahltuch. The British lady champion, Agnes Stevenson, was invited to represent the British Chess Federation in the Women’s World Championship tournament to be held concurrently with the congress. The committee estimated that the expenses for the players would come to around £150, which could not be met out of the regular British Chess Federation income. A ‘strong appeal’ was made for donations to a special fund for the event ‘to bring back both cups to Great Britain, the country of their origin!’138 Britain was very good at donating trophies, but less successful at winning them back. The Hamilton-Russell Cup is still played for at Chess Olympiads and has never been won by an English, or even a British Empire team.139 The appeal for funds is a reminder of the amateur status of the game at that time. As the British Chess Magazine reported, ‘It was wonderful to see all the finest players in the world playing their best chess for national honour only.’ A lofty view. For Sir George Thomas, who had a private income, all very well, but for Yates and Winter, struggling as professionals, it was more problematic. They relied on their journalism to subsidise such events. Even for Sultan Khan, supported by Sir Umar Hayat Khan, there was no prospect of financial independence. The British amateur attitude went further than mere remuneration. The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, in a diary piece from Prague, noted that ‘Individual matches are frequently adjourned for lunch, when most Continental teams confer about the position, good or bad, on their nationals’

board. It is a practice which custom has honoured, although originally it was rarely pursued.’ How unsporting! Those ‘Continentals’ analyse adjourned positions together! Clearly a sordid practice in which the British Empire team, made of stiffer moral fibre, did not indulge. Nineteen countries competed for the Hamilton-Russell trophy – one more than the year before. There was praise for the hosts, the Czechoslovakian Chess Association, in the British Chess Magazine: ‘We all associate the name of Bohemia with good fellowship, hospitality and free and easy customs; but everyone did not realise that these would be combined with a precision and attention to details great and small which would command the admiration of players and onlookers alike.’ The correspondent went further: ‘The amount of international good feeling produced was wonderful, and it is to be hoped that this splendid competition – a League of Nations which really functions – will never be allowed to lapse.’ The goodwill didn’t, however, prevent a minor diplomatic incident. The Times reported that ‘… there appears to have been some discussion among the players as to Sultan Khan’s position. Bogoljubow raised the point by asking, “You have an Indian playing for England?” “No,” was the reply – “for the British Empire”; and Bogoljubow cheerfully admitted the truth of the correction.’ Bogoljubow wasn’t the only one to find Khan’s situation odd. Many in India would have liked to have seen an independent Indian team. Even in England, one newspaper chess columnist exclaimed with surprise ‘The British Empire (one country!)’140 The final placings of the event showed that there was a new power in the chess world: 1st United States of America, 48 points, 2nd Poland, 47 (last year’s winners), 3rd Czechoslovakia, 46½. The USA team comprised four young players: Kashdan, Dake, Steiner, Horwitz and the veteran Frank Marshall – who scored 10/16 on board 2. At the bibulous closing banquet, William Winter recollects ‘Marshall replying to the toast of the victorious American team, rising unsteadily to his feet,

waving the Stars and Stripes and shouting “Hip, Hip, Hurrah!” and then collapsing in his chair.’141 The British Empire team started very well, winning their first six matches – but then lost in rounds 7-11. The strain of several double-round days, not to mention adjournments on top of that, must have had an effect. A recovery in the second half brought them to 9th place at the end, similar to their performance in Hamburg, yet they were only 4 points off the USA in first place which, given the long event, is practically a photo-finish. Yates was somewhat disappointing on board 2 with 9½/18; Sir George Thomas did well on board 3 with 12½/18, Winter on board 4 performed reasonably with 10/17. The reserve, Victor Wahltuch, (a veteran of 56 years old) was considerably weaker than the others and was only used twice, scoring a draw and a loss. That left the rest of the team with a near relentless schedule, and no doubt contributed to fatigue. Sultan Khan scored 11½/17 on board 1: eight wins, two losses and seven draws. Considering his opposition, this was a good score. The British Chess Magazine remarked that ‘Mir Sultan Khan maintained his reputation as one of the leading world players.’ If we compare the scores of all the board one players, it is hard to disagree. 1 Alekhine 13½/18 = 75% 2 Bogoljubow 12½/17 = 73.5% 3 Kashdan 12/17 = 70% 4 Sultan Khan 11½/17 = 67.6% 5 Stahlberg 11½/18 = 63.9% 6 Flohr 11/18 = 61.1% 7 Grünfeld 9/15 = 60% 8 Rubinstein 9½/16 = 59.4% 9 Mikenas 10/18 = 55.5% 10 Vidmar 8½/16 = 53.1% 11 Matisons 7/14 = 50% 12 Steiner 6½/15 = 43.3% 13 Golmayo 6½/15 = 43.3% 14 Johner 6/15 = 40% 15 Andersen 6/16 = 37.5%

16 Rosselli 6/18 = 33.3% 17 Erdelyi 5/16 = 31.2% 18 Weenink 5/17 = 29.4% 19 Christoffersen 1½/14 = 10.7% Alekhine was on imperious form and arguably at the height of his career. Bogoljubow had played a World Championship match against Alekhine in 1929; Kashdan, Stahlberg and Flohr were the best of the younger generation – but in their individual games Sultan Khan held all of them and defeated the last named. Overall his result was excellent, but we shouldn’t let it mask some serious defects in his play. Khan started with four wins out of four – before crashing in the fifth. A familiar pattern. The first round was easy. He played a Nimzo-Indian against Stefan Erdelyi from Romania, swiftly won a pawn and then the endgame. His play in the next three rounds was curious in that he employed a similar strategy in all the games. This was a development of the Colle and Stonewall systems that he had tried out, without success, in the match against Tartakower. Sultan Khan A.Rubinstein Prague International Team Tournament (2) 12th July 1931

Rubinstein was the clear favourite going into this game. Last year he had defeated Khan in Scarborough and Hamburg, and missed a win in Liège by the slenderest of margins. 1.d4 d5 2.♘f3 c5 3.e3 e6 4.♘e5

The Colle System, but with Khan’s own special twist, planting the knight onto the outpost at the earliest possible moment. The Sunday Times chess correspondent was not impressed: ‘Premature, and against principles’. He had tried a similar strategy in the cable match a couple of months previously; and there are certain similarities with a currently modish line of the Caro-Kann: 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.exd5 cxd5 4.♘f3 ♘c6 5.♘e5. 4…♘f6 5.♘d2 ♘bd7 6.f4

‘… our old acquaintance the “Stonewall”; much in vogue about thirty or forty years ago, but long discarded as inferior.’ (The Sunday Times) 6…♗d6 7.c3 b6 8.♗d3 ♗b7 9.♕f3

After the unusual beginning, a standard Stonewall position has been reached. This remains a popular system with those that have little time or inclination to study as the first few moves can be made without looking up from the board. In other words, it suited Khan. There is nothing wrong with 9…0-0, 9…♕e7 or 9…♕c7. Rubinstein overreacts to the aggression. 9…h5 10.♕g3

Highlighting Black’s weaknesses. The natural response to the threat to the gpawn is to castle kingside, but that would leave the h-pawn dangling. So Rubinstein makes a concession. 10…♔f8 11.0-0 h4 12.♕h3 ♖c8 13.♘df3 ♘e4 14.♗d2 ♘xd2

Exchanging off the so-called bad bishop, but the threat to move to e1, attacking the h-pawn, was unpleasant. 15.♘xd2 ♘f6 16.♘df3 ♖c7 17.♘g5 ♗c8

What about the forced sequence 18.♘gxf7 ♖xf7 19.♘g6+ ♔g8 20.♘xh8 ♔xh8 21.♕xh4+ ♔g8 22.♗g6…? It’s easy to get this far, but Khan obviously couldn’t see the win from here and decided not to cash in so early. 18.♖f3 ♖h6 19.♖af1 ♔g8 20.♖3f2 ♕f8 21.♕f3 cxd4 22.cxd4 g6

Here, 23.♖c2 would gain control over the c-file, leaving the rook on h6 out of play. Which is why Khan’s next move is a bit odd. 23.g4 hxg3 24.hxg3

24…♘h7

A big mistake. 24…♘e4 25.♘xe4 dxe4 26.♗xe4 f5 followed by swinging the rook to h7 coordinates Black’s pieces at a stroke. 25.♘g4 ♘xg5 26.♘xh6+?

26.fxg5 followed by ♘f6+ would have been practically decisive. 26…♕xh6 27.fxg5 ♕xg5 28.♔g2 e5 29.♕f6 ♕xf6 30.♖xf6 e4

Here, 31.♗xe4 ♗e7 32.♗xd5 ♗xf6 33.♖xf6 gives White a clear extra pawn. This isn’t yet winning, but it simplifies White’s task. 31.♗b1 ♗e6 32.♖6f2 ♖c8 33.a3 ♔g7 34.♖c2 ♖d8?

34…♖h8 is much stronger, with excellent chances to draw. The last dozen moves look like both players were short of time. Finally the game settles into an endgame that Khan successfully brings to victory. 35.♗a2 ♔h6 36.♗b3 ♔g7 37.♖c6 ♔f8 38.♗d1 ♔e7 39.♖h1 ♗d7 40.♖c1 ♗e6 41.♗e2 ♔f6 42.♖h7 ♔g5 43.♔f2 ♔f6 44.♗f1 g5 45.♗e2 g4 46.♔g2 ♖g8 47.♗a6 ♖b8 48.a4 ♔e7 49.♖ch1 ♖d8 50.♖h8 ♖d7 51.♖c1 ♗b4 52.♔f2 ♔f6 53.♖e8 ♔g7 54.♖c6 ♔f6 55.♖g8 ♖d6 56.♖xd6 ♗xd6 57.♖a8 1-0

Some of the moves in this game, from both sides, are very hard to comprehend. Khan spurned wonderful opportunities, yet finally won through with patient endgame technique. It should be mentioned that this was the second game of the day and one wonders whether the 50-year-old Rubinstein was lacking stamina. E.Andersen Sultan Khan

Prague International Team Tournament (3) 13th July 1931

position after 9…♘f6-e4

Same again: the knight hits the outpost. Khan negotiated a complicated middlegame and outplayed his opponent. Round 4 was brutal. Khan faced Hermanis Matisons from Latvia, a noted player and study composer. In 1924 he had become the World Amateur Champion in a tournament held concurrently with the Paris Olympic games. He played well at the Prague Olympiad, defeating Alexander Alekhine, Rubinstein and Vidmar; but in this game Khan had him completely flummoxed with his early aggression. Sultan Khan H.Matisons Prague International Team Tournament (4) 14th July 1931 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 e6 3.e3 b6 4.♗d3 ♗b7 5.♘bd2 d5 6.♘e5

Here we go again! 6…♗d6 7.f4 0-0 8.♕f3 ♘fd7 9.♕h3 f5 10.♘df3 ♘f6 11.♗d2 ♗a6 12.♖g1 ♗xd3 13.cxd3 ♕e8 14.♔e2 ♘bd7 15.♕h4 c5 16.♗c3 cxd4 17.♗xd4 ♘c5 18.g4 ♗xe5 19.♘xe5 fxg4 20.♘xg4 ♘xg4 21.♖xg4 g6 22.♖ag1

1-0

In Khan’s playing style, the editor of The American Chess Bulletin could sense the attacking spirit of Harry N.Pillsbury: ‘One can almost visualise the lamented American champion sitting on the white side of the board. Entirely apart from the stonewall formation adopted, it is so typical of Pillsbury’s

incisive style that one can well believe that a study of his recorded games left a lasting impression upon the talented Indian’. He might have been crediting Khan with too much knowledge. This strategy was all well and good but, as in the match against Tartakower, when faced with a canny move order that side-stepped his scheme, he floundered. Kashdan in round 12, then Rosselli del Turco in round 15, doubtless having the advantage of being able to scrutinise his earlier games, were able to work out strategies to counter the blunt aggression and both equalised with ease. But the Colle wasn’t the worst of Khan’s openings. In round 5 Lajos Steiner from Hungary confused him with 1.e4 c6 2.c4, which he met by 2…c5.

Apparently, the concept of time in the opening is unimportant. The game went into a Maroczy Bind after 3.♘f3 ♘c6 4.d4 cxd4 5.♘xd4 with Khan a full tempo down on usual lines. Although he fought back, he eventually lost through a tactical blunder in the endgame. I am guessing that in playing himself out of his early difficulties he had run short of time. There was another opening disaster in round 9. Throughout his career, Khan had mixed results with the Nimzo-Indian, probably because it is an opening that in many lines requires precision of move order. Gideon Stahlberg-Sultan Khan started 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♗b4 4.♕c2. The normal moves here

are 4…d5, 4…c5 or 4…0-0, but Khan played 4…b6.

In 2019 this is currently enjoying some popularity, resurrected with the help of diligent research and computer preparation, but Khan played it out of ignorance. Stahlberg seized the centre with 5.e4 and achieved a dominating position, Khan only surviving by a miracle. In later games in the tournament he reverted to his trusty Queen’s Gambit Declined with black – and scored well. Looking at these games makes one despair; though turning to Khan’s victories would lead one to believe that he could make it to the top of the chess world. One of his finest achievements was to defeat the rising Czechoslovakian star, Salo Flohr. Sultan Khan S.Flohr Prague International Team Tournament (6) 15th July 1931 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 g6 3.c4 ♗g7 4.♘c3 d6 5.e4 0-0 6.♗e3 ♘bd7 7.♘d2 e5 8.d5 ♘e8 9.♗e2 f5 10.f3

10…f4

‘A premature advance, depriving himself of any prospect of opening the KB file favourably at some later stage. 10…♘df6 with a view to ♘h5 and ♘f4 is a more promising line.’ (British Chess Magazine) Apart from this, 10…♗h6 11.♗xh6 ♕h4+ 12.g3 ♕xh6 frees Black’s pieces, with an open fight. In the game, after the central position closes Khan correctly delays castling, developing his queenside attack without fear. 11.♗f2 a5 12.a3 ♘ef6 13.b4 b6 14.♘a4 ♖e8 15.c5 dxc5 16.bxc5 ♘xc5 17.♘xc5 bxc5 18.♗xc5 ♘d7 19.♗f2 ♗a6 20.♗xa6 ♖xa6 21.♕c2 ♖a8 22.0-0

All the play is centred on the queenside and it’s now safe to castle. 22…♗f8 23.♖fc1 ♗d6 24.♘c4 ♕e7 25.♘xd6 cxd6 26.♖ab1 ♘f8 27.♕c6 ♖ab8 28.♖b6 ♖xb6 29.♕xb6 ♕d7 30.♖c6 ♖c8 31.♗e1 1-0

Both the d6 and a5 pawns will drop. There was particular interest in how Khan would fare against the World Champion. He did not disappoint. A.Alekhine Sultan Khan Prague International Team Tournament (7) 16th July 1931 1.♘f3 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.d4 b6 4.g3 ♗b7 5.♗g2 d5

Solid and unpretentious – which is much better than some of his other opening experiments. 6.0-0 is the most common move, but Alekhine sticks with what he knows. 6.♘e5 ♘bd7

Alekhine-Vajda, Budapest 1921, had continued 6…♗b4+ 7.♘d2 0-0, which is a reliable way for Black to play – the king exits swiftly – though Alekhine eventually ground out a win in 57 moves. 7.♕a4 c5 8.cxd5

A month after this game was played, at the British Championship, Khan had

the same position on the board, but Tylor deviated with 8.dxc5 – see the next chapter. 8…♘xd5

This is playable, but intuitively I prefer 8…♗xd5, exchanging off the influential bishop on g2. 9.dxc5 ♗xc5 10.0-0 a6 11.♕xd7+ ♕xd7 12.♘xd7 ♔xd7 13.♘d2 ♖hd8 14.♘b3

14…♖ac8

The British Chess Magazine wrote: ‘… A European player would have carefully preserved his bishop by …B-K2; Black prefers to get White’s only Knight exchanged. In the Indian game the Knight is a superior piece to the bishop in the end-game.’ One can sometimes read too much into Khan’s background. I suspect he wanted to activate his queen’s rook as quickly as possible and also saw that his king had a reasonably safe square on e7. In any case, he underestimates White’s chances with the bishops and 14…♗e7 is stronger: 15.e4 ♘f6 16.f3 ♔e8 17.♗e3 ♘d7 with a level position. 15.♘xc5+ ♖xc5 16.e4 ♘f6 17.♗e3 ♖b5!? 18.♖fd1+ ♔e8 19.♖xd8+ ♔xd8 20.♗d4 ♘xe4 21.♗xg7 ♘d6 22.a4 ♖f5 23.♗d4 b5 24.♗f1 ♔d7 25.axb5 axb5 26.♗e3

26…♗e4 is the most solid here. 26…h5

The pawn is a bit loose. With 27.♗f4 White can start to use the bishops and rook together to target h5, b5, the knight and the king. 27.f4

A poor move. Alekhine wants to restrict the rook but blocks his dark-squared bishop and cedes control over the e4-square. 27…♗e4 28.♖a7+ ♔e8 29.♔f2 ♖d5 30.♗e2 ♗d3 31.♗f3 ♗e4 32.♗e2 ♗d3 ½-½

Alekhine has to avoid an exchange of bishops so a repetition, and a draw, is the right result. All in all, a reasonable performance from Khan. Having defeated Capablanca at Hastings, and now holding the World Champion with comparative ease, no wonder Khan was lauded as the coming man. Let’s finish up with one of Khan’s best wins, played in the penultimate round, where he combined a decent opening, strong strategic understanding, and sharp tactics to beat the Swiss champion. H.Johner Sultan Khan Prague International Team Tournament (18) 25th July 1931

1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 d5 4.♗g5 ♗e7 5.♘f3 h6 6.♗h4 ♘bd7 7.e3 c6

After some misadventures with the Nimzo-Indian, Khan returns to his solid Queen’s Gambit Declined. He had also used it in round 16 to beat the Dutch player, Weenink, employing his patent 6…a6, but here he plays more in the style of the day. 8.♗d3 dxc4 9.♗xc4 b5 10.♗d3 a6 11.♕e2 ♗b7 12.0-0 c5 13.♖fd1

13…cxd4

We have seen in his early games with the Queen’s Gambit Declined that Khan frequently pushed his queenside pawn majority with …c5-c4, and this shows that his strategic understanding was developing. Compare with the famous games Grünfeld-Alekhine 1923; and Capablanca-Alekhine, Game 21, 1927. 14.♘xd4 ♕b6 15.♖ac1

Black’s position is fine – apart from the fact that he has yet to castle. I see nothing wrong with 15…0-0 but, true to form, Khan persists with his king in the middle. 15…♘c5 16.♗c2 ♖d8

This is directed against 17.e4, which could be met by 17…♖xd4 18.♖xd4 ♘b3 19.♗xb3 ♕xd4. The exchanges take the heat out of the position. 17.♗xf6 gxf6

Very alert. Instead 17…♗xf6 allows White a dangerous initiative: 18.b4 ♘d7 19.a4 bxa4 20.♘xa4 ♕a7 21.♗b3 with threats to take on e6 or perhaps invade with the rook to c7. 18.b4 ♘d7 19.a3

Timid. 19.a4 ♗xb4 20.♘e4 would be more challenging for Black, considering that his king does not yet have a safe haven. Looking through the games of the time, my impression is that players were less inclined to give up material for the initiative compared to today. 19…f5 20.♘f3 ♗f6

The position has stabilised and Black’s bishops, striking across the long diagonals, give him the advantage. 21.♗b1 ♖g8

Making a virtue out of the position of the king and the damaged kingside pawns. Johner now attempts to complicate and confuse but Khan handles it well. 22.e4 ♘e5 23.♖xd8+ ♕xd8 24.♘xe5 ♗xe5 25.g3 f4 26.♕d3

26…♕b6

An impatient move. It is surprising that Khan declined the endgame after 26…♕xd3 27.♗xd3 ♔e7 which is overwhelming for Black in view of the weakness of White’s queenside pawns and the threat to take twice on g3. 27.♔f1 ♔e7 28.♘e2 fxg3 29.hxg3 ♖d8 30.♕f3 ♗b2 31.♖e1 e5 32.♕b3

32.♗a2 would have been better, but White has been under pressure for some time and the slightest inaccuracy can send him down. 32…♖d2 33.♗c2 ♕e6!

A sharp finish. In the endgame the queenside pawns would drop; but after the bishop is taken Black’s attack is too strong. 34.♕xb2 ♗xe4 35.♘f4 exf4 36.♖xe4 ♕xe4 0-1

Soon after the end of Prague, Sultan Khan would return to domestic competition and the challenge of defending his British Championship title. Surely, such varied competition abroad would improve his chess?

PART IV

Fall and Rise

CHAPTER 17

British Championship, Worcester 1931 ‘He is a player of such distinction that one regrets he can scarcely be claimed as British. Still, he is a British subject, and that is “Paddy, the next best thing.”’ – Linlithgowshire Gazette Just two weeks after the final moves were played in the Prague International Team Tournament, Sultan Khan, Fred Yates, William Winter and Sir George Thomas were competing again, but not as a team. The annual British Championships took place at the College for the Blind in Worcester in the west of England, from 10th-21st August. The British Empire team’s good showing gave grounds for optimism, so that the championship was thought to have ‘… more than insular importance. In chess, Britain has long held a rather lowly place, but now it seems to be coming into its own again.’142 Expectations were now particularly high for Sultan Khan. He had defeated Capablanca in Hastings, defeated Tartakower in a match, and in Prague had drawn with the World Champion Alekhine. Sir Umar declared that he looked forward to Khan being a ready and competent challenger for the world title in three- or four-years’ time.143 Nevertheless, many home players still felt equivocal about Sultan Khan’s exact status, which was expressed by this chess correspondent: ‘He is a player of such distinction that one regrets he can scarcely be claimed as British. Still, he is a British subject, and that is “Paddy, the next best thing.”’144 The opening ceremony for the British Championships took place on the afternoon of Monday 10th August in a marquee on the lawn in front of the college – in the midst of a summer rain shower. The usual formalities had to be observed before the 120 players in the congress could begin battle, which meant speeches by local dignitaries and officers of the British Chess Federation. They were the living embodiment of the knights and bishops on

the chessboard, as though the British chess hierarchy was still living in the middle ages when these pieces were given their names: Viscount Cobham, the Lord Lieutenant of Worcestershire; the Dean of Worcester; Major Montague Jones… Naturally, before the round could begin, tea was served. It’s a wonder there was time for any play at all. The tournament started well for Khan, defeating his first four opponents, among them Hugh Alexander and Stuart Milner-Barry, two of the Cambridge University chess team, playing for the first time in the top British Championship tournament. They became mainstays of the English chess team from the late 1930s-1950s, but were destined to follow notable careers away from the chessboard. Both were employed at Bletchley Park, the centre for cryptology during World War II that played a crucial role in the breaking of the German Enigma code. Alexander worked directly with Alan Turing on ‘The Bomb’ – the proto-computer that was instrumental in the operation; and Milner-Barry’s diplomatic and linguistic skills played an important part in running the project. After the war, Alexander became head of cryptanalysis at Government Communications Headquarters while Milner-Barry reached the highest ranks of the civil service working for the British government. Alexander and Milner-Barry became good friends while at Cambridge and shared a similar style on the chessboard: attack was everything. They were the inheritors of the British death or glory attitude and were immediately popular with the domestic chess fraternity. They were the right kind of people, playing the right kind of chess.145 Alexander was much praised for his game against Khan – a game in which the Cambridge player was defeated in 24 moves. In other circles such a short loss would have garnered a different reaction, but in amateur England it is the manner of play, as much as the result, that counts. The comments of the editor of the Staffordshire Advertiser chess column, Mr G.E.Bingley-Bibb, were typical: ‘Taking into consideration that this is his first appearance in master chess circles, his performance has more than justified his inclusion in such select company. The appended contest, although lost by

Alexander, shows clearly his courage at the game. Despite the fact of his opponent being the actual champion of this country, the young player, nevertheless, has the cool nerve to try a daring sacrificial line of play against him, and disdains to angle for a draw.’ Sultan Khan C.H.O’D.Alexander British Championship, Worcester (2) 11th August 1931 1.d4 d5 2.♘f3 ♘f6 3.e3 ♘bd7 4.♘bd2 g6 5.♗d3 ♗g7 6.b3 e5

Over-zealous. 7.♘xe5 ♘xe5 8.dxe5 ♘g4 9.f4 ♕h4+?

Continuing in the most brutal way, although 9…0-0 10.♘f3 f6 11.h3 is also better for White. 10.g3 ♕h3 11.♗f1 ♕h5 12.♕f3 ♗xe5

‘A daring sacrifice, which proves unsound.’ (Bingley-Bibb) Breaking out at any cost. Black’s queen is in a box, so this is at least logical, though the whole enterprise is misguided. 13.fxe5 ♕xe5 14.♖b1 ♘xe3 15.♗b2 d4

15…♕e7 16.♗xh8 ♗g4 17.♗b5+ c6 18.♕f6 also wins for White. 16.♕e4 ♘xc2+ 17.♔f2 ♕xe4 18.♘xe4 ♗f5 19.♗d3 ♘b4 20.♘f6+ ♔e7 21.♗xf5 ♔xf6 22.♗e4 c5 23.a3 ♘c6 24.♖bc1 1-0

‘Bravo, Alexander! Well played, Sultan!’ (Bingley-Bibb) After four strong rounds, round 5 was a catastrophe. E.G.Sergeant Sultan Khan British Championship, Worcester (5) 14th August 1931 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.♗b5 a6 4.♗a4 ♘f6 5.0-0 b5

In round 1 Khan had also defended the Ruy Lopez with black, but had deviated here: Michell-Sultan Khan: 5…d6!? 6.♗xc6+ bxc6 7.d4 exd4 8.♘xd4 c5 9.♘de2. A somewhat dubious line that Khan survived and, in the end, won well. Perhaps his premature 5…b5 in this game was played in order to avoid this. In both these games, it seems that Khan is improvising based on a very cursory knowledge of the opening. 6.♗b3 ♗e7 7.d4 ♘xd4??

A crass tactical error. 7…d6 is normal, with a transposition back to main lines. 8.♘xd4 exd4 9.e5

If the knight moves to e4 or g8, then 10.♕f3, with a simple double attack, wins material. Khan gave up the knight on f6 with 9…0-0 10.exf6 ♗xf6 and staggered on to move 32 before resigning.

We have already seen that Khan had a poor knowledge of opening theory when he arrived in Europe. He remedied that deficiency with some coaching from Yates and Winter, by looking at games from other players in tournaments, a bit of self-study, but I suspect mainly by playing. He was not a researcher. Against 1.d4 Khan had developed a reasonably solid repertoire based on the Queen’s Gambit Declined or alternatively (and perhaps less solidly) the Nimzo- and Queen’s Indian. Against 1.e4, he had less experience and seemed unsure where to specialise. As a consequence, his openings were less reliable. He dabbled with the French, the Caro-Kann, a variety of Sicilian lines and, in this tournament for the first time, the black side of the Ruy Lopez. Over the next couple of years this became his main choice against 1.e4, with occasional outings for the Caro-Kann. The Sicilian and the French were discarded almost completely. How and why he made this decision is unclear, though I am guessing that he was influenced by Yates and Thomas, who both defended the main line of the Ruy Lopez. After this debacle, Khan’s results with the opening were respectable and the strategic nature of the games evidently suited his style. In round 6 against Sir George Thomas, Khan had the black pieces again and switched back to the Caro-Kann. The opening went well, but at a certain point in the middlegame he collapsed, threw away a pawn and then the game.

position after 25.♖a1-e1 25…♕c4?

Too bold. It wasn’t in his nature, but Khan should have compromised: 25… ♕xe5 26.♖xe5 ♔f8 27 ♖5e4 b5 28.♖xg4 b4 and Black has enough activity to compensate for the pawn. 26.a3 ♖cd8 27.♕g5 ♖d5

Instead, 27…f5 28.♕g6 wins the pawn on e6 with fatal consequences. 28.♕xg4

… and Thomas converted the extra pawn without difficulty. After six rounds, Yates, Thomas and Winter all had 4½, Khan 4. There was a general feeling that it had already been ‘… one of the most entertaining championships of recent years’146 and this was chiefly put down to the presence of the younger players: Khan, Milner-Barry and Alexander. Battle resumed after the traditional free day on the Sunday, and in round 7 Khan pressed Winter in a long game, but ultimately drew. In round 8 he kept pace with the leaders by defeating Tylor in a masterful strategic squeeze. Before the game, Tylor had perched a black cat mascot on the chess clock, but it brought him no luck.147 T.H.Tylor Sultan Khan British Championship, Worcester (8) 18th August 1931 1.♘f3 ♘f6 2.d4 e6 3.c4 b6 4.g3 ♗b7 5.♗g2 d5 6.♘e5 ♘bd7 7.♕a4 c5

Up to this point, exactly the same as Khan’s game against Alekhine from Prague a few weeks before which had continued 8.cxd5 (see the Prague chapter). Tylor must have prepared an ‘improvement’. 8.dxc5 ♗xc5 9.♘c3 ♗d4 10.♘xd7 ♗xc3+ 11.bxc3 ♕xd7 12.♕xd7+ ♔xd7 13.0-0 ♖hc8 14.cxd5 ♗xd5 15.♖d1 ♔e8 16.♗b2 ♗xg2 17.♔xg2 ♖c4

Black has a clear advantage. The rest of the game is beautifully played by Khan and is reminiscent of classics such as Thomas-Alekhine, Baden-Baden 1925, and a little later, the rook and pawn endgame Flohr-Vidmar, Nottingham 1936. The reason this game has never made it into the endgame textbooks is that Tylor collapses at a relatively early stage, so Khan doesn’t have to work too hard. 18.♖d4 ♖ac8 19.♖xc4 ♖xc4 20.f3 b5 21.e4 ♘d7 22.♖d1 ♖a4 23.a3 ♘b6 24.♖a1 ♖c4 25.♖c1 ♔d7 26.♔f1 ♖a4 27.♖a1 ♘c4 28.♗c1 a5 29.♔e2

Khan could lunge forward at this moment with 29…b4 but it’s messy and not quite convincing. Instead, he gently brings his king up, improving his position. Good strategy. 29…♔c6 30.f4

This is a horrible move, weakening the e4-pawn. As we have seen on so many occasions, the defender does not know whether to stick or twist: sometimes it’s worth staying passive; sometimes it’s fatal to do so. In this case, he should have played 30.♔d3 and though White’s position is ugly, Black still needs to make the decisive breakthrough. How can he make progress? There are possibilities to squeeze with the pawns on the kingside; potentially invade with the king via c4; and the b4-pawn break is also in the air. In the game Khan lures the pawn to e5 and then conquers it, all the while keeping complete control over the queenside. 30…f6! 31.♔d3 ♘d6 32.e5 fxe5 33.fxe5 ♘c4 34.♔d4 ♘d6+ 35.♔d3 ♘f7 36.♗f4 g5 37.♗e3 ♘xe5+ 38.♔c2 g4 39.♗f4 ♘f3 40.♔b3 e5 0-1

After 41.♗h6 ♖e4 42.♖d1 a4+ 43.♔c2 ♖e2+ another pawn falls. ‘… comparatively a simple affair… There was a certain neatness, however, in Sultan Khan’s winning methods by which pawn after pawn was rendered defenceless and fell.’ (The Yorkshire Post) I would say Khan made it look simple. Then disaster struck. Sultan Khan E.Spencer British Championship, Worcester (9) 19th August 1931

position after 34…♖d8xd5

In the opening Khan had taken liberties, grabbing a hot pawn but leaving his king in the middle of the board. A familiar story. In the resulting scrap both sides missed chances and, under pressure, Khan made the final blunder. 35.♔d1 would slip the king away just in time. Instead Khan played… 35 ♖ed1

… which loses to 35…♖de5

The threat is to capture the bishop on e3 and there is no satisfactory defence. If 36.♔e1 there are several ways to win, for example 36…♗c5, threatening …♗b4, and there is no way out. The game finished: 36.♖d8+ ♔h7 0-1

With two rounds to go the leading scores were: Yates 7; Winter, Thomas 6; Khan, Spencer 5½. The chances of Khan retaining his title were slim and seemed slimmer with the opening of his 10th round game: J.H.Morrison Sultan Khan British Championship, Worcester (10) 20th August 1931

1.e4 c6 2.♘c3 d5 3.d4 e6

Apparently Khan had made no progress in his openings since Ramsgate 1929 when he played in similar fashion (see his round 8 game versus Price). This was a poor game, Khan blundering a pawn in the opening, hanging on, then somehow conjuring a win – I am guessing when his opponent was short of time. Not for the first time Khan’s extraordinary mental strength pulled him through. It should be noted that Morrison came last in the tournament. As far as the title race went, this result was actually superfluous as Yates won his game, and Thomas and Winter both drew so that the standings before the final round were Yates 8; Khan, Thomas and Winter 6½. Thus, Yates secured his sixth British Championship title with a round to spare. Yates and Sultan Khan faced each other in the last round. It’s a pity that we don’t have the score of the game – another case where it was probably too long for any of the correspondents to include in their reports. Besides, the championship had already been decided. Nevertheless, the game sounds like an epic: ‘Sultan had Yates for his opponent in one of the hardest fought games of the tournament. The ending was rather favourable to Sultan Khan, Yates having small liberty of action, but the win, if there was one in the

position, had not been found by mid-day adjournment.’ (The Scotsman) The Times correspondent did not really appreciate this kind of chess: ‘Sultan Khan has two bishops against the bishop and knight for Yates, with the pawns level. It looks as if Sultan Khan intends to play Yates at his own game of “sitting tight” in the hope that his opponent may make a blunder through sheer weariness.’ In the end, the game lasted almost 12 hours and it was well past midnight on the Friday night when Khan forced Yates’s resignation.

Yates deserved the victory as his play was the most consistent of all the players. For Khan, the final game offered him some consolation for his poor showing earlier in the tournament, though it was perhaps inevitable that he would come in for criticism. Louis Van Vliet, the chess correspondent of The Sunday Times, made a less than subtle swipe at Khan: ‘[Yates’s] victory was well earned, for he played first-rate chess, at Worcester, free from unsound, spectacular antics. It is also noteworthy that, when at Ramsgate two years ago the title was won by the young

Indian expert, Mir Sultan Khan, Mr Yates and Sir George Thomas were competing in a tournament on the Continent.’ Others were supportive: ‘Sultan Khan seemed to tire after three or four rounds and made obvious mistakes, but he has undoubted genius, and much is expected of him in the future.’ (The Lancashire Daily Post) Up until this championship, it had been an excellent year – but it was time for a rest.

CHAPTER 18

Gandhi, Menchik and Alekhine ‘Sultan Khan played with fine yet rapid judgment, but in many of the games he deliberately encouraged complications and trappy positions.’ – London Evening News There were no high-profile chess tournaments in England in the autumn and, as in the previous year, Khan’s activity was limited to a few team matches and simultaneous displays. British newspapers reported that he had been invited to the great Bled tournament that took place from 23rd August-28th September 1931, but the British Championship only ended on 21st August (or in Khan’s case, the early morning of 22nd August) so his participation must have been deemed out of the question. Besides, his uneven play suggested that he was exhausted. Khan also received an invitation to a tournament for ‘young masters’ in Tartrahan, Czechoslovakia that would follow on from Bled at the end of September, but he evidently declined this too – or it was declined on his behalf. To play in such tournaments would have been a major undertaking for him considering the cultural and linguistic barriers, and he would also have needed the imprimatur and funding of his patron, Sir Umar, who was once again fully engaged with politics. The second India Round Table Conference began on 7th September 1931 and ran through until December. As well as his formal role on the Council of India advising the Secretary of State, Sir Umar’s duties were very much as in the previous year, bridging the gap between the Indian delegates and his British colleagues – which meant much socialising again: ‘… glittering jewels and shimmering dresses… Lady Shafi’s peachcoloured sari, embroidered in beads, was outstanding, and Sir Umar Hayat Khan’s turban was easily the most impressive headdress to be seen…’ … gushed one observer.148

The Prime Minister, Ramsay MacDonald, and the Secretary of State for India, William Wedgwood Benn, were hoping that the second Round Table Conference would be more successful than the first, and the only chance for that to happen was to bring in the Congress party. At the end of the first Conference in January 1931, they had prompted the Viceroy of India, Lord Irwin, to take action. Shortly after, he released the leaders of Congress from prison and invited Gandhi for talks – which he accepted. Newsreel footage of Gandhi entering the Viceroy’s grand residence in Delhi, dressed only in loincloth and shawl, divided opinion in Britain. For progressives, pacifists and many left-wingers, his non-violent campaigns turned him into a paragon; more traditional supporters of the Empire vilified him. Winston Churchill proclaimed, ‘It is alarming and also nauseating to see Mr Gandhi, a seditious Middle Temple lawyer, now posing as a fakir of a type well known in the East, striding half-naked up the steps of the Viceregal palace, while he was still organizing and conducting a defiant campaign of civil disobedience to parley on equal terms with the representative of the King-Emperor…’ Even Irwin was later to say of his lengthy discussions with Gandhi that ‘It was rather like talking to someone who had stepped off another planet’, but they had a mutual respect for each other’s religious beliefs and were both sincere in their aim of finding a lasting peace in India by negotiation. On this basis, they came to an agreement. The Congress Party would call off the campaign of civil disobedience and participate in the next Round Table Conference; in return the Government would lift restrictions on the Congress Party and release political prisoners. Gandhi was to be the sole representative of Congress at the Second Round Table Conference in London. Gandhi arrived in England at the beginning of September for the start of the Conference to great curiosity and interest. He made no concessions to the English weather, nor his hosts, by continuing to wear his khaddar – Indian home-spun cotton cloth. Even when he, along with the other delegates and dignitaries (including Sir Umar), was invited to a reception with King George V at Buckingham Palace, he did not change out of his loin-cloth and shawl. ‘The King was wearing enough for the two of us,’ he explained afterwards. Gandhi’s wit, humility and modesty won him many admirers – he chose to stay in a simple boarding house in the East End of London and, as a rule, did

not indulge in the round of social functions that flattered the other delegates. Yet Gandhi’s almost mystical way of approaching problems did not endear him to some delegates and certainly not his pragmatic British hosts. The Times, with ill-concealed frustration, spoke of his ‘inveterate habit of equivocal utterance, of leaving a door open at either end of the room’. In the end, there were two fundamental points that could not be resolved. First, Gandhi was looking for outright independence for India. Instead, on offer was a slow crawl to self-governance under Dominion status. In other words, for the foreseeable future, and perhaps beyond, it was quite possible that the British would retain control over the defence forces, foreign policy and finances. Second, the representatives of the minorities in India – i.e. Sikhs, Untouchables, Christians, and the largest group, the Muslims – were looking for safeguards of their status in India. They were fearful of marginalisation and discrimination by a Hindu-dominated centralised government. Gandhi took a different ideological position: he was against the splintering of the nationalist movement into diverse groups, wanting instead to maintain a united front against the British. Whose views would the British Government more naturally heed? The head of the Muslim League, the Anglophile barrister Muhammed Ali Jinnah, dressed in a tweed suit, backed by trusted advisors such as Sir Umar Hayat Khan; or Mahatma Gandhi, however softly spoken, dressed in a loin-cloth, who fraternised with radicals, and who sometimes seemed to speak in mystical riddles? Or was this all just pandering to troublemakers? There was a growing element in the Conservative Party that was against consulting with Indians at all.

Cartoon in the Evening News 11 April 1931, satirising Gandhi’s convoluted language and emphasising the split between the Hindu and Muslim communities.

In the end, the British Government went against Gandhi’s wishes and pursued the policy that was proposed at the first Round Table Conference of a federal system and, in the parlance of the time, the ‘safeguarding’ of the minorities. Gandhi might have won favour with a large part of the British public, but convincing Muslims that he and the broader Congress Party would be able to look after their best interests was another matter. Although the Congress Party had started out as a pan-religious movement, it was now mainly led by Hindus, and Gandhi’s image as a Hindu mystic only reinforced that perception. Gandhi was to say afterwards that the Round Table Conference ‘marked the definite rupture of relations between the Indian nation and the British Government.’ He vowed to return to India to restart his struggle against the British in the form of passive resistance and the boycotting of goods.149 Sultan Khan was finally back at the chessboard on 13th October 1931 when he played for the Imperial Chess Club versus Lloyds Bank, almost a year to the day since their last encounter. This time he managed to defeat Harold

Felce.150 The day after, 14th October, Khan gave a simultaneous exhibition at the Empire Social Chess Club in Whiteley’s department store, scoring 20 wins, drawing one game (against Mrs Edith Holloway – a former British ladies champion), and losing two, against H.St. John Brooks and the 20-year old Harry Golombek, a future British champion and Times chess correspondent from 1945-89.151

Simultaneous display by Sultan Khan in Whiteley’s, 14 October 1931. Golombek is seated on the right with the dark hair and blurred hand.

Compared to the faltering first display that Khan had given in September 1929, his technique had greatly improved, and that was confirmed by his next exhibition on 3rd November at the Hampstead chess club – one of the strongest in London – where he scored 23 wins, two draws and just one loss. The correspondent of the London Evening News noted that he played ‘… with fine yet rapid judgment, but in many of the games he deliberately encouraged complications and trappy positions.’ His only defeat came at the hands of the youngest player, a 17-year-old from the University College School, who ‘took full advantage of his chances, and, as Sultan Khan himself said, he played very well indeed.’

Khan played with total abandon, improvising the opening, then sacrificing a couple of pawns for an attack. In the middle he lost his way (17.h4 and 18.g3 underestimate his opponent’s counter-attacking potential) but that can easily happen in a simul. It would be good to see some of Khan’s victories from these exhibitions using this adventurous style, but it’s the misfortune of the simul-giver that usually only the losses are published. Sultan Khan A.H.Gould Simultaneous display, Hampstead Chess Club 3rd November 1931 1.e4 e6 2.♘f3 d5 3.e5 c5 4.d3 ♘c6 5.♗e2 ♘ge7 6.c3 d4 7.♗g5 ♕d7 8.♘bd2 ♘g6 9.0-0 ♘gxe5 10.♘xe5 ♘xe5 11.f4 ♘c6 12.f5 exf5 13.♗f3 ♘e7 14.♖e1 h6 15.♗f4 ♔d8 16.♘c4 ♘c6

Here, 17.♕b3, threatening 18.♗xc6 and 19.♘e5, is winning for White. 17.h4 ♗e7 18.g3 ♖e8 19.♕a4 g5 20.hxg5 hxg5 21.♗d2 ♗f6 22.♘b6 ♖xe1+ 23.♖xe1 ♕c7 24.♘xa8 ♕xg3+

25.♗g2 f4 26.♕d1 ♗g4 27.♕b3 ♗f3 28.♖e2 ♗xe2 29.♕d5+ ♔c8 30.♕f5+ ♔b8 31.♕xf6 ♔xa8 32.♕h8+ ♘b8 33.♕h3 0-1

White is completely lost but, in a simul, one could hope for a miracle. Khan obviously felt his opponent had already shown enough skill and graciously resigned. The game isn’t worth scrutinising too closely – there were massive mistakes on both sides – but I simply like the spirit with which Sultan Khan plays: he is completely unafraid.152 A week later Khan played his very first county match, representing Middlesex against Sussex at the St. Bride’s Institute, which hosted chess events for decades. The institute was set up in 1891 to serve the growing printing and publishing trade in nearby Fleet Street. It was the venue for London League matches, county matches and tournaments right into the 1980s. I have vivid memories of the cramped upper room with dark wooden panels filled with tight rows of tables replete with chess sets – proper Staunton chess sets that were probably worth a fortune – and old-fashioned chess clocks that looked as though they had been made in Victorian times. The ceiling was stained a dirty yellow through years of cigarette smoke that filled the unventilated room. Khan’s opponent, Vera Menchik, had recently defended her Women’s World Championship title in Prague and won the Major Open tournament at the Congress in Worcester. She was very active on the English chess scene

and had recently taken over as resident professional at the Empire Social Chess Club.153 This was played on the second board as it was the custom for the county champion (in this case J.H.Morrison) to lead the team. Sultan Khan, obliging as ever, said that he fully approved of this principle, so long as he got a good game. His wish was fulfilled.154 Sultan Khan V.Menchik County Match, London 14th November 1931 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 g6 3.e3 ♗g7 4.♗d3

A tame queen’s pawn opening soon turns into a kind of Pirc, which then takes on the characteristics of a King’s Indian. 4…0-0 5.e4 d6 6.♘c3 ♘c6 7.♗g5 h6 8.♗e3 e5 9.d5 ♘b4 10.♗c4 a5 11.a3 ♘a6 12.h3 b6 13.b4 axb4 14.axb4 ♗b7 15.♖b1 ♘e8 16.♕c1 ♔h7 17.g4

Khan is in his element, restricting the mobility of Black’s pieces on both sides of the board and discouraging the …f7-f5 pawn break. This is the kind of squeeze that Petrosian enjoyed playing against the King’s Indian. Note White’s uncastled king – in this case, appropriate. 17…♘b8 18.h4 ♘d7 19.h5 g5 20.♘g1 ♘ef6 21.f3 c6 22.dxc6 ♗xc6 23.♘h3 ♕c8 24.♗d3 ♗b7 25.♘b5 ♕c6

26.♗xg5

Seemingly a crushing blow, but it’s not quite the end of the adventure. In any case, Khan gets there in the end. 26…♗a6 27.c4 ♖fc8 28.♗d2 ♗xb5 29.cxb5 ♕xc1+ 30.♖xc1 ♖xc1+ 31.♗xc1

♖a4 32.♔e2 ♖xb4 33.♗a3 ♖d4 34.♖c1 ♘c5 35.♗c4 d5 36.exd5 ♘xd5 37.♗xc5 bxc5 38.♗d3+ ♔g8 39.♖xc5 ♘f4+ 40.♘xf4 exf4 41.b6 ♖b4 42.♗b5 1-0

This was Khan’s third victory over Vera Menchik. They were to meet again in the Hastings tournament that began after Christmas. The World Champion, Alexander Alekhine, came to London in December 1931 after giving a simultaneous display in Iceland. He had returned via Denmark where he had been presented with the Knight Cross of the Falcon of Iceland by the Danish King. Alekhine’s reputation had grown again after his emphatic victory in the Bled tournament in August/September, so that he was now acknowledged as not only a worthy World Champion but arguably the greatest chess player that had ever lived.155 Alekhine arrived at Victoria Station on Saturday 12th December and a welcoming party had been arranged that included Sultan Khan. Khan was supposed to be playing for Middlesex in the final of the county championship on that day, but made his apologies at the last minute. I doubt he was given much option by Sir Umar, who presumably organised the reception. The World Champion was to stay in London for a few days and made it known that he was available for simultaneous exhibitions, but nothing came of the negotiations with the leading clubs. ‘Times are, admittedly, difficult,’ lamented the chess correspondent of the London Evening News. However, Sir Umar Hayat Khan stepped in and generously played host to Alekhine, holding a couple of receptions in his honour; on one of these Alekhine gave a private blindfold simultaneous display. The British Chess Magazine published this fine photograph from one of the evenings, showing the great and the good of the London chess scene.

Back row: C.D.Locock (literary scholar, editor and translator and chess player); R.H.S.Stevenson (well-known chess organiser; editor of home news for the BCM); P.W.Sergeant (chess author); Charles Wreford-Brown (renowned footballer and cricketer and keen chess player); Sir Ernest Graham-Little (Member of Parliament, president of the Empire Social Chess Club); Sir Umar Hayat Khan; R.C.Griffith (editor of the BCM); F.D.Yates; Julius Du Mont (chess author); J.B.Whieldon (?). Middle row: Miss Frances Joseph (a member of Sir Umar’s household, possibly nanny/tutor for ‘Aziz’); Mrs Latham (?); Mrs Arthur Rawson (president of the Imperial Chess Club); Vera Menchik; Alexander Alekhine; Mrs Stevenson (four-time British Ladies Champion, wife of R.H.S.); Dr Seitz (German player and journalist who frequently visited London). On the floor: Dr S.Basalvi (household physician); Aziz (perhaps daughter of Abdul Aziz, one of the staff); Sultan Khan.

Sultan Khan lies across the floor with unfussy informality. One can’t help but feel that he felt more comfortable here than at the back with the dinner-suited guests.

CHAPTER 19

Hastings Congress 1931/1932 ‘The game that attracted the greatest interest was that between Sultan Khan and Miss Menchik.’ – London Evening News The twelfth annual Hastings tournament did not include either of the chess superstars, Alekhine or Capablanca, but instead the organisers had brought together five of the most promising players of the younger generation: Max Euwe, Salo Flohr, Isaac Kashdan, Gösta Stoltz and Sultan Khan. Euwe, 30 years old, had won in the previous year. Flohr (23), Kashdan (26), and Stoltz (27) had all made impressive scores for their countries in the International Team Tournament in Prague 1931. Together with Khan (26), these players had already been bracketed together as future challengers for the world title; facing each other in direct competition would provide an indication of their true potential. The Congress had found a new home in the White Rock Pavilion, home of the ‘famous’ Hastings Orchestra. The Lower Hall of the Pavilion proved ‘commodious and well adapted for its purpose’.157 There were 114 players in total playing across all the different tournament sections. The Times commented that ‘… it is no secret that the success of these congresses is due to the friendly excellence of the arrangements.’158 In the first round Khan played Flohr, whom he had defeated with ease in Prague six months before. There was no repeat of the King’s Indian Defence; instead, Flohr switched to the solid Queen’s Indian. It was a baffling performance from Khan as he walked into a poor position, similar to his game against Nimzowitsch from Liège 1930, losing in 81 moves. He caught up by winning his next two rounds, first by demolishing the veteran Edward Jackson with a kingside attack, then outplaying Sir George Thomas in a long endgame. Sir G.A.Thomas Sultan Khan

Hastings Premier (3) 30th December 1931 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.♘c3 dxe4 4.♘xe4 ♘f6 5.♘g3 g6 6.♘f3 ♗g7 7.♗e2 0-0 8.0-0 ♘bd7 9.c3 ♕c7 10.♗d2 c5 11.♕c1 cxd4 12.♘xd4 e5 13.♘f3 ♘d5 14.♖d1 ♘f4 15.♗xf4 exf4 16.♘e4 ♖e8 17.♕c2 ♘c5 18.♘d6 ♖d8 19.♘xc8 ♖axc8 20.♖xd8+ ♖xd8 21.♖d1 ♗f6 22.h3 a6 23.♖xd8+ ♕xd8 24.b4 ♘e6 25.c4 a5 26.a3 axb4 27.axb4 ♕a8 28.♕e4 ♕a1+ 29.♗f1 b6 30.♕c6 ♕a7 31.♕d5 ♕c7 32.♕a8+ ♔g7 33.♕e4 ♕d6 34.♕b1

34…♗c3 35.b5

Ceding control over the c5-square after which Khan can make progress by advancing the kingside pawns. This is a highly unpleasant position to defend. Instead, giving up a pawn with 35.c5 bxc5 36.b5 would have given White sufficient counterplay to draw the game. 35…f5 36.♕d3 ♕xd3 37.♗xd3 ♘c5 38.♗c2 ♔f6 39.♔f1 g5 40.♔e2 h6

I like this move. The situation reminds me a little of Khan’s game versus Tylor in the British Championship. Sometimes it can be worth simply maintaining control, letting your opponent sweat and see if they weaken their own position. Thomas has the same dilemma as Tylor: sit tight or break out? 41.♘h2 h5

Here it would have been better to exchange pawns with 42.g4. I can understand why Thomas was reluctant to make that move – the nature of the position would change considerably after both 42…fxg3 43.fxg3, or 42… fxg4 43.hxg4 h4, and in a game it is very hard to assess these new situations. Instead, he sticks with what he has, holding the position, but Khan begins a manoeuvre to plant the bishop on c5, and the pressure increases. 42.♘f3 ♘e6 43.♔d3 ♗b4 44.♘d4

A losing move. Instead, 44.♗d1 g4 45.hxg4 fxg4, pushing White further back is unpleasant to defend, but necessary. 44…♘xd4 45.♔xd4 ♗c5+ 46.♔d3 ♗xf2

I suspect that Thomas allowed this, assuming that the opposite-coloured bishop endgame would be drawn. In fact it is completely winning for Black. 47.♔e2 ♗c5 48.♔f1 g4 49.♗d3 ♔g5 50.♗c2 f3 51.h4+

If 51.gxf3 gxh3, and Black’s king marches to g3 and the h-pawn goes through. 51…♔xh4 0-1

If 52.♗xf5 ♔g3 53.gxf3 gxf3, and the h-pawn advances. A fine squeeze. How does a positional triumph such as this fit with the slow capitulation against Flohr in round 1?

Sultan Khan-Flohr, 1st round Hastings 1931/32.

Khan played Stoltz in the next round: he was pressing in the adjournment session and won a pawn but couldn’t get more than a draw. ‘The Wizard of the West v. Star of The East’ was how Kashdan versus Khan was billed in round five. Remember that this pair were both considered as future contenders for the World Championship. An all-day battle finally ended with honours even. We have no record of the game, but it sounds as though Khan had to fight a rear-guard action for much of it: ‘In the afternoon Sultan Khan defended magnificently with two bishops against Rook and Bishop. Kashdan gave up the exchange to get a passed pawn, but this was perhaps unwise, as he could do no more than draw after 79 moves.’ (Evening News) After five rounds the leading scores were: Flohr, Kashdan 4; Khan, Euwe, Jackson 3, Menchik, Stoltz 2½, Yates 1½, Thomas 1, Michell ½. ‘This is a sad state of affairs for our leading British players,’ lamented the Evening News. I am sure that nothing was meant by this, but this casual remark points at Sultan Khan’s outsider status. Yes, he was part of the

Empire team, but still not British, a subject but not a citizen. With four rounds to go, a strong finish would still have left Khan well placed. In round 6 his opponent was Vera Menchik, who had defeated Euwe in round 2. She had won the Major Open tournament at the British Championship last summer and romped through the Women’s World Championship in Prague. As the resident professional at the Empire Social Chess Club and associate editor of the Social Chess Quarterly, she was also fully involved in the London chess scene. Nevertheless, Khan was the clear favourite with three convincing wins in their previous encounters. Sultan Khan V.Menchik Hastings Premier (6) 2nd January 1932 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 d5 4.cxd5 exd5 5.♘f3 c6 6.♕c2 ♗d6 7.e3

Blocking in the bishop is an odd decision, but the reasoning for this becomes clear in a few moves. Instead 7.♗g5 gives White a favourable Queen’s Gambit Exchange Variation as Black’s bishop has moved to d6 rather than e7. 7…♘bd7 8.♗d3 0-0 9.♗d2

This was probably what Khan had in mind when he played his seventh move. He has succeeded in transposing to his first-round game from Ramsgate 1929 against Hamond in which he suffered a catastrophic defeat with black (see British Championship 1929) – except this time he has white. 9…♖e8

Much stronger than Khan’s 9…h6. This natural rook move allows the knight to drop back to protect the king and then Black can concentrate on a queenside counter-attack.

10.h4

The intention is clear, but it is an ineffectual exercise as Black has no weaknesses. Having said that, 10.0-0 ♕e7 followed by …♘e4 gives Black a very pleasant initiative. 10…♘f8 11.0-0-0 b5 12.♘g5 a5

Black’s queenside attack is far more potent than White’s on the kingside. Therefore Khan changes tack and breaks in the centre. 13.e4 b4 14.♘a4 dxe4 15.♘xe4 ♘xe4 16.♗xe4 ♗e6 17.♔b1

Carelessly played, allowing Menchik to open the queenside. Instead, 17.b3 ♗d5 18.♗xd5 cxd5 19.♔b1 ♘e6 is more comfortable for Black but tenable for White. 17…b3 18.axb3 ♖b8 19.♘c5 ♗xc5 20.♕xc5 ♗xb3 21.♖de1 ♘e6 22.♕c3

Here the natural way to pursue the attack is 22…a4, with the potential to push again, opening the b-file. Instead Menchik makes a cautious decision, taking a pawn, but allowing Khan chances of salvation in an endgame. 22…♕xd4 23.♕xd4 ♘xd4

24.f3

Unnecessary. The immediate 24.♗d3 would have brought Khan nearer to a draw: 24…a4 25.♖xe8+ ♖xe8 26.♗e3. After this Menchik takes control and plays convincingly till the end. 24…a4 25.♗f4 ♖bc8 26.♗d3 ♘e6 27.♗e5 c5 28.♗b5 ♖ed8 29.♖e4 ♘d4 30.♗xd4 cxd4 31.♗d3 ♖b8 32.♔a1 ♖b4 33.♖he1 ♗e6 34.♖e5 a3 35.b3 ♖xb3 36.♗c4 ♖b2 37.♗xe6 fxe6 38.♖a5 d3 39.♖xa3 d2 40.♖d1 ♖c2 0-1

This game provides further evidence that Khan did not work much away from tournaments. He had not properly analysed his loss against Hamond in 1929; and perhaps he simply gambled that Menchik would play as poorly as he did. At the strong Carlsbad tournament of 1929, Vera Menchik’s participation had been met with raised eyebrows: did she really belong in this company? The Viennese master Albert Becker had jokingly suggested forming a ‘Menchik Club’, comprised of anyone that lost to her. Inevitably, Becker became the very first member after he was defeated by her in round 3. As the newspapers gleefully pointed out, Sultan Khan now became the latest member of the club. After 6 rounds, the leading scores were Kashdan and Flohr 5, Menchik 3½, Euwe, Jackson, Khan, Stoltz 3. Khan’s reward for this defeat was to face Max Euwe. The Dutchman’s strong opening play took him into an endgame where he had a clear advantage, then

Khan demonstrated his grittiness and creativity in defence, and the path to victory was not easy. M.Euwe Sultan Khan Hastings Premier (7) 3rd January 1932

position after 39…♘h3xf2 40.♔b5

The clearest way to force a win is 40.a4 followed by b2-b4 as the knight has difficulty in returning to catch the a-pawn. 40…♘d3 41.♔xa5 ♘xb2 42.♔b5

42.♔b4! ♘d3+ 43.♔c3 ♘c5 44.♔c4 g5 45.♗e8, controlling the kingside pawn majority, should still win. 42…g5 43.a4 ♘xa4!

Euwe described this move as a ‘rude shock’ and that Khan had slipped past him like an eel.159 44.♔xa4 g4 45.fxg4 fxg4 46.♔b4 h5 47.♗e8

Instead 47.♔c4? h4 – just in time, the pawn rolls through. 47…♔xd5 48.♗xh5 ♔e5 49.♗xg4 ½-½

Black’s king steps into the corner and draws as the bishop is on the wrong colour to force it out.

In the penultimate round, Khan faced the British Champion. He was unable to gain revenge for losing the title the previous summer. According to the British Chess Magazine, ‘Yates, with a Lopez, had the better all through against Sultan Khan’s original and irregular defence…’. Khan finally lost in 83 moves after a ‘brave but hopeless struggle’.160 In the final round Khan managed to drag himself up to 50% by defeating Michell in another long game, finishing ten minutes before the closing ceremony was due to take place.

The first four received the following prizes: first £15, second £12, third £8, fourth £5. £15 in 1932 would have the spending power in 2019 of around £1000. Flohr had finally pulled clear in the final round by defeating Yates; while Kashdan could only draw against Stoltz. Salo Flohr had an impressively responsible style, a ‘rock of safety and correctness’161 against which less skilled players crashed and burned. Kashdan remained calm at crucial moments in his games and picked off the English contingent. Euwe was at a difficult moment in his life, torn between pursuing his career as an academic mathematician (at that time he was still a full-time school teacher), his ambitions as a chess player, and his young family. In this tournament his lack of practice showed, as he made oversights in calculation and was sometimes short of time.162

In this tournament we only have a record of five complete games from Sultan Khan, but from those and the various reports, we can see the same problems as before: some dubious openings (Menchik and Yates) and against Flohr, poor positional judgment. On the plus side, he was displaying his usual doggedness, grinding out long wins (Thomas and Michell), and saving dubious endgames (Euwe and Kashdan). He had managed to keep his nose just ahead of the home players, but even his usual superiority against them was in doubt with his losses to Yates and Menchik. By his standards, this was a poor result. At least he would have a chance to redeem himself with some more chess in the near future.

CHAPTER 20

Sound Opening, Sound Game ‘His knight play and offer of a sacrifice made the ending particularly interesting and attractive.’ – London Evening News The year had not begun well for Sultan Khan. His next moves on the chessboard after Hastings confirmed his poor form: on 16th January he played for the Imperial Chess Club against Cambridge University and was defeated by the young gun, C.H.O’D.Alexander. It was a disastrous game. Alexander offered a pawn: 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.♘c3 dxe4 4.f3 exf3 5.♘xf3 – transposing into what came to be known as the Blackmar-Diemer Gambit. It was a good choice against Khan, who underestimated White’s initiative and was caught by a standard kingside attack – Alexander’s forte. A week later he represented Middlesex in a county match against Surrey and faced the experienced R.P.Michell. Khan had a one hundred per cent record against him, though the victories hadn’t always been convincing. R.P.Michell Sultan Khan County match Middlesex-Surrey 23rd January 1932 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.♗b5 a6 4.♗a4 ♘f6 5.0-0

5…d6

Nowadays the standard move order is 5…♗e7 but, at that time, and in the decades before this game, this was a highly popular way for Black to play among the leading players. Yates often employed this move order. Was he responsible for teaching Khan this opening? In their game from the British Championship the previous summer, Michell had played 6.♗xc6+ against Khan, but this time he sticks to more orthodox paths. 6.♖e1 b5 7.♗b3 ♗e7 8.c3 0-0 9.h3 ♘a5 10.♗c2 c5 11.d4 ♕c7

We have now transposed back into a main line Chigorin Variation of the Spanish. 12.♘bd2 ♗b7 13.♘f1 cxd4 14.cxd4 ♖ac8

This has since become a popular variation, played in hundreds of games in serious competition. Perhaps Khan had been shown the game Cohn-Johner, Vienna 1908, which continued 15.♗b1 d5 – and Black took the initiative. 15.♗d3 ♘c6

15…d5 is a popular choice here, but this is also a good move, bringing the knight back into play.

16.d5

Michell prefers to keep the centre closed rather than put up with the pressure from Black’s minor pieces. Nevertheless, this decision means that the lightsquared bishop is about to be exchanged off, and that piece is often crucial for attack and defence. Instead, Hounie Fleurquin-Alekhine, Montevideo 1939, continued 16.♗d2 exd4 17.♖c1 ♕b6 0-1 (62); and Fischer-Keres, Zurich 1959, which was featured in Fischer’s My 60 Memorable Games, went 16.♘e3. It makes a refreshing change to see Khan playing a sound main-line opening. 16…♘b4 17.♘e3

17.♗b1 is a safer way of playing, though 17…♘c2 18.♗xc2 ♕xc2 19.♕xc2 ♖xc2 20.♘e3 ♖c7 is about equal. 17…♘xd3 18.♕xd3 g6 19.♗d2 ♕b6

By coincidence, many decades later, the 15-time champion of Pakistan, Mahmood Lodhi, also reached this position and played 19…♕d7 20.♖ac1 ♖xc1 21.♖xc1 ♖c8 22.♖xc8+ ♗xc8 23.a3 ♕c7 24.g4 h5, eventually winning in 78 moves (Aye-Lodhi, Mandalay 2016). 20.g4 a5 21.♘f1

Instead 21.b4 should have been played to block the queenside advance. 21…b4

This allows Black to assume control over the a6-f1 diagonal, activating the light-squared bishop. 22.♗h6 ♖fe8 23.♘g3 ♗a6 24.♕d2 ♘d7 25.♔h2 ♕b5 26.♖e3

White needs to match Black on the c-file, but that proves impossible:

26.♖ec1 ♘c5, followed by a hop into d3, causes huge problems. 26…♕c4 27.♖d1

27…♕c2

A significant moment. Khan makes a pragmatic choice to exchange queens, removing any danger from the kingside while maintaining positional control over the queenside. Capturing the pawn was possible but after 27…♕xa2 28.♘g5 and potentially ♖f3 White can stir up trouble. Why put oneself under pressure? In short: this was an excellent practical decision. Khan conducts the rest of the game with masterly control, patiently manoeuvring his minor pieces into their best positions before applying the finishing touch. 28.♘e1 ♕xd2 29.♖xd2 ♖c1 30.♘d3 ♖a1 31.b3 ♖c8 32.♖e1 ♖xe1 33.♘xe1 ♖c1 34.♘g2 ♗d8 35.♗e3 ♗b6 36.♗xb6 ♘xb6 37.♘e3 ♘d7 38.♔g2 ♘c5 39.♘d1 ♘d3 40.♘e2 ♘e1+

41.♔f1 ♘f3 42.♔g2 ♘xd2 43.♘xc1 ♘xe4 44.♘e3 ♔f8 45.f3 ♘c3 46.♘c4 ♗xc4 47.bxc4 a4 48.♔f2 ♘xa2 49.♘d3 b3 50.♔e3 ♘b4 51.♔d2 a3 0-1163

What a difference it makes when Khan actually plays a good opening. From this sound basis he was able to outplay Michell strategically, finishing the game with a few simple tactics.

CHAPTER 21

The Sunday Referee Tournament 1932 ‘The table was so crowded with spectators that one of them said quite proudly, “Never mind, I have seen the top of one of Alekhine’s pawns.”’ – London Evening News Although there was a great deal of chess activity in London – the Gambit chess rooms in the City, the newly opened Empire Social Chess Club, the salubrious City of London Chess Club, and numerous local clubs that held regular meetings and league matches – there were few international tournaments. Since the First World War, the number of events could be counted on one hand: London 1922, featuring Capablanca and Alekhine; the International Team Tournament of 1927; and the British Empire Club tournament in 1927 won by Nimzowitsch and Tartakower. The idea for another international was proposed by the chess editor of the Sunday Referee newspaper, W.Hatton-Ward, who persuaded the proprietor, Isidore Ostrer, to fund the event. Ostrer also owned the Gaumont-British Picture Corporation Limited, the largest film company in the country, who were present at the opening ceremony to record the occasion. This was big news. ‘For a whole fortnight a Chess Congress held its ground as a popular London spectacle, and the enormous publicity secured was as advantageous to the game – possibly more so – as to the newspaper.’ (Hatton-Ward in the tournament book) A key factor in the popularity of the tournament was the participation of the World Champion, Alexander Alekhine. The congress was held from 1st-12th February 1932. The first week took place in the prestigious Central Hall, Westminster; the second week was hosted by Whiteley’s in Bayswater, the home of the Empire Social Chess Club. Central Hall had also been the location for the International of 1922

and the conference rooms were used for cultural events and public meetings. Gandhi had spoken there just a few months before. In both locations there was ample room, not just for the international tournament, but for the Premier reserves and the Women’s tournament, as well as the numerous spectators who were attracted by the sight of the two World Champions, Alexander Alekhine and Vera Menchik; the pretenders to the chess throne, Isaac Kashdan and Salo Flohr who had just performed so well in Hastings; and Sultan Khan who, in spite of a recent loss of form, still garnered high expectations.164

Before the first round of the Sunday Referee Tournament 1932, with the games Maroczy-Menchik (left) and Alekhine-Khan thronged by spectators.

Mr Hatton-Ward declared that in his quarter of a century organising chess events, he had never witnessed such enthusiasm for the game. Visitors in the first week numbered in thousands. Prizes were generous. In the International tournament: 1st £50; 2nd £30; 3rd £20; 4th £10. Apart from that, an anonymous benefactor had offered £10 for the most brilliant game played, and a further £10 for the ‘best recovery’ game.

Compare these prizes with the £15 first prize at Hastings. In formally opening the congress, Ostrer spoke of the pleasure derived from the presence of so many famous masters: ‘It proves the game of chess is still very much alive and its language will always remain international. It is an object lesson to the world how to maintain a friendly relationship under the stress of great competition. If the spirit of chess could more truly prevail, the question of disarmament would hardly arise. In activities like ours, and in art and music, there is no national boundary and, in my opinion, it is a great power for good.’ As with many chess tournaments in this era, the increasingly tense international climate intruded into the opening address. With our hindsight, the idealistic tone becomes even more poignant.165 In the first round Khan faced the World Champion. Alekhine was on blistering form, but Khan had succeeded in holding him to a draw when they played in Prague in the previous summer. The World Champion’s entrance into the tournament was evocatively described in a newspaper report from the first round. ‘As he strode into the Central Hall, Westminster, London, famous chess players sprang to their feet, forgot the “silence” notices, and gave him an ovation that might almost have greeted a champion boxer. Dr. Alekhine, who is tall, fair-haired, athletic looking, and young, smiled and blushed his acknowledgements. He was dressed in a light suit, soft collar, and spotted tie, but the most noticeable point about him is his dark piercing eyes. He played Sultan Khan, one of the most brilliant of the young players, and as he played Dr. Alekhine smoked cigarette after cigarette. The ash tray beside him grew fuller and fuller, and the faces of the “gallery” who crowded and jostled with football match enthusiasm around his table, got closer and closer until some were within two inches of his own. But Dr. Alekhine never took his eyes from the board except when he

occasionally got up and went for a walk round the hall to have a look at the other games.’166 Giant arc lights illuminated the hall for the cameras, giving off tremendous heat so that some of the more elderly spectators shielded their necks with papers and hats. ‘The only man in the room who enjoyed the glare was Sir Umar Hayat Khan… He stood near an arc lamp in turban and long Indian coat, and said he felt just comfortably warm.’167 A.Alekhine Sultan Khan Sunday Referee Tournament, London (1) 1st February 1932 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♗b4

Khan goes for the Nimzo-Indian rather than his solid Queen’s Gambit Declined. Unfortunately, he isn’t as familiar as Alekhine with the position types. 4.♕c2

This was one of the most popular methods of meeting the Nimzo at that time and Alekhine had some experience with the move. He had beaten none other than Nimzowitsch himself with it in 1927. 4…c5 5.dxc5 ♗xc5

‘I would prefer here 5…♘c6 6.♘f3 ♕a5 7.♗d2 ♕xc5, etc., with approximately an equal game,’ wrote Alekhine in the tournament book. 6.♘f3 ♘c6 7.♗g5 h6

‘Better is 7…♘d4 8.♘xd4 ♗xd4 9.e3 ♕a5! etc.’ – Alekhine. The World Champion was ahead of his time. This was later to become one of the main lines of this variation. 8.♗h4 ♕a5 9.e3

9…d5

‘The logical continuation would be 9…♗b4 10.♗d3 ♗xc3+ etc. After the text-move, White’s advantage becomes apparent owing to the unsound pawn position of Black. As the following play shows, however, it is not easy to transform it into a decisive one.’ – Alekhine. Khan’s move is hard to understand: he saddles himself with a chronically poor pawn structure and it is easy for Alekhine to take control of the position. 10.♗xf6 gxf6 11.cxd5 exd5 12.♗b5 a6 13.♗a4 ♔f8

‘In any case less dangerous than 0-0.’ – Alekhine. And still miserable. Black’s king is insecure in either case. 14.0-0 ♘e7 15.♗b3 ♗e6 16.♖ad1 ♖d8 17.♘d4 ♗a7 18.♘ce2 ♗b8 19.♘f4 ♗xf4 20.exf4 ♗g4

‘After his doubtful opening Sultan Khan defends very well. The text-move practically forces the exchange of one Rook and reduces White’s attacking possibilities.’ – Alekhine. Khan is trying to tempt Alekhine into playing 21.f3, which would block the third rank, preventing the swing of White’s major pieces across to the kingside. Nevertheless, 21.♖d2 or 21.♖d3 are still possible. 21.♖c1 ♖c8 22.♕d3 ♖xc1 23.♖xc1 ♗d7 24.♕e3

‘Threatening ♖c5, etc.’ – Alekhine. 24…♕b6

Alekhine doesn’t mention the possibility 25.♖c6 which practically forces

Black to give up the queen. He either didn’t see it, or judged that the position after 25…♗xc6 26.♘e6+ fxe6 27.♕xb6 ♔f7 would be difficult to crack. 25.♕c3 ♔g7 26.♕g3+ ♘g6

‘Overlooking the strength of his opponent’s next move. Necessary was 26… ♔f8 27.♖d1 etc; after which the result (win for White or draw) would still be doubtful.’ – Alekhine. 27.f5 ♕xd4 28.fxg6

28…♖e8

‘There is nothing better. If 28…fxg6 29.♖c7 ♖d8 30.♕d6, and if 28…♕d2 29.gxf7+ ♔xf7 30.♖d1 ♖e8 31.f4, winning.’ – Alekhine. None of these endgames is pleasant, but I think 28…♕e5 gives the best chance to survive: 29.♕xe5 fxe5 30.♗xd5 ♔xg6 31.♗xb7 ♖b8 32.♖c7 ♗e6. The e- and f-pawns give the king cover and could provide counterplay. 29.gxf7+ ♔xf7 30.♕c7 ♖e7 31.♕xb7

‘After the forced win of this pawn the following ending becomes only a matter of technique.’ – Alekhine. 31…♗e6 32.♖c7 ♖xc7 33.♕xc7+ ♔f8 34.♕d6+ ♔f7 35.h3 a5 36.♕c7+ ♔f8 37.♕xa5 ♕xb2 38.♕d8+ ♔g7 39.♕c7+ ♔g8 40.♕f4 ♔g7 41.♔h2 ♗f7 42.♕g3+ ♔h8 43.a4

43…♕d2

‘Losing a second pawn, after which he could quietly resign. The only possibility of prolonging the fight was 43…♕a3, but, of course, with very little hope.’ – Alekhine. As we know, Khan is not one to give in prematurely, and he toils on to the bitter end. 44.♕e3 ♕b2 45.♕xh6+ ♔g8 46.♕e3 ♔f8 47.♗xd5 ♗xd5 48.♕c5+ ♔g7 49.♕xd5 ♕xf2 50.♕d7+ ♔g6 51.♕g4+ ♔h6 52.a5 ♕a7 53.♕f4+ ♔g7 54.♕g3+ ♔h6 55.♕c3 ♕e7 56.♕d2+ ♔g7 57.a6 ♕e5+ 58.g3 ♕c5 59.♕a2 ♕a7 60.h4 f5 61.♕e2 ♔f6 62.♕d2 ♔f7 63.♕d5+ ♔f6 64.♕c6+ ♔e5 65.♔g2 f4 66.♕b5+ ♔d6 67.♕b4+ ♔e6 68.♕e4+ ♔f6 69.♕xf4+ ♔g6 70.♕d6+ ♔g7 71.♕e5+ ♔h6 72.♕g5+ ♔h7 73.♕b5 ♕f7 74.♕b7 ♔h6

Khan had managed to spring a stalemate trap against Winter in his very first tournament in England, but lightning does not strike twice – particularly when it is as transparent as this. According to the British Chess Magazine, Alekhine smiled before playing… 75.♕b6+ ♔h5 76.♕a5+ ♔h6 77.a7 ♕b7+ 78.♔h2 ♕a8 79.♕b6+ ♔h5 80.♕b8 1-0

‘Sultan Khan […] fought magnificently. The table was so crowded with spectators that one of them said quite proudly, “Never mind, I have seen the top of one of Alekhine’s pawns.”’ (London Evening News) The World Champion made hard work of the position – he was somewhat over-cautious – but he didn’t loosen his grip and, without having to exert himself to the maximum, he achieved the desired result. In this kind of position, it wasn’t always necessary to play the absolute best move as Khan couldn’t move past the limitations of his pawn structure. The pawn advance 9…d5 was simply inexplicable, and he spent the next 70 moves suffering for this rash advance. In round 2, Khan had another difficult opponent, Salo Flohr, who had beaten him convincingly in Hastings just a few weeks before. His play was noticeably more solid in the opening and a roughly level endgame was reached. Khan pushed hard to win, and came close, but Flohr pulled through

to draw – and could have had more. Sultan Khan S.Flohr Sunday Referee Tournament, London (2) 2nd February 1932

position after 65…♘f3-e5

Flohr has found sufficient counterplay to draw the game. 66.♗xd2??

66.♔a4 ♘c4 67.♔xb3 ♘xd6 leads to a draw (see the game). 66…♘c4+ 67.♔a4 ♘xd6??

67…♖a3+ 68.♔b4 ♘xd6 69.♔xa3 ♘c4+ 70.♔b4 ♘xd2, and with care Black should win. 68.♔xb3 ♘xb5

Draw agreed. Flohr had been under pressure for the final twenty moves of the game, and that blinkered his thinking. Once he saw a forced sequence to reach a draw, he snatched at it with relief – missing a simple win. The same applies to Khan, as well as Alekhine afterwards, who analysed the game in the tournament book without mentioning the winning combination at the end. After this faltering start, Khan’s results picked up. He was deadly against

the five home players, defeating them all, including a first victory over William Winter, who had a rotten tournament. Julius Du Mont remarked of Winter in the tournament book, ‘He is a strong player with a profound knowledge of the game, and, given good health, he may yet come to the front.’ Is that a coded reference to Winter’s drinking? Khan’s opening was improvised and odd, but Winter, on this occasion, wasn’t flexible enough to exploit it. W.Winter Sultan Khan Sunday Referee Tournament, London (6) 6th February 1932 1.c4 c5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.d4 cxd4 4.♘xd4 g6 5.e4

Setting up the so-called ‘Maroczy Bind’. In the 1920s and 1930s these positions were thought to be highly favourable for White. Remember that Khan had reached this position against Steiner in Prague with a tempo less! 5…♗g7 6.♗e3 ♘f6 7.f3 0-0 8.♘b3 ♘h5

Instead of developing normally on the queenside, Khan is eager to initiate some kind of action before White can settle in to his space advantage. It feels dubious, but it certainly takes the fight to White. 9.g4 could be considered here which would initiate ludicrous complications after 9…♗xb2. Instead

Winter chooses to maintain his formation. 9.♘c3

9…e5

‘A very bold move, practically condemning the queen’s pawn to death. But after the “simple” 9…d6 White could at once initiate an attack on the King’s side by 10.g4 ♘f6 11.h4, etc. Sultan Khan’s decision is therefore comprehensible.’ – Alekhine. There were a couple of alternatives, 9…f5 or 9…♗xc3+, that would take the game in very different directions. 10.♘b5

Instead of moving a piece for the second time, 10.♕d6 followed by 0-0-0 looks logical. 10…b6

11.♕d2

‘Much too slow. Logical and good was 11.g3, preventing the entry of the knight at f4. If 11…♗a6, then 12.♗h3, or, if 11…f5 12.♘d6, etc., in either case with a clear advantage for White. Now the tables will rapidly be turned.’ – Alekhine. In fact, controlling Black’s activity is already problematic. Alekhine overlooked that after 11…♗a6 12.♗h3 ♘f4! pushes White backwards. 11…♗a6 12.♖d1 ♘f4

‘This sacrifice is absolutely correct and White would have done better to refuse it by playing 13.c5. Still, even after the acceptance, he could save the

game.’ – Alekhine. After 13.c5 Black would have two decent ways to generate activity: 13… ♘e6 or 13…♕b8 and the pressure is on White to complete his development successfully. Alternatively, 13.♗xf4 exf4 14.♕xf4 ♗xb2 gives Black decent counterplay. 13.g3 ♘e6 14.♕xd7 ♗xb5

14…♕f6 is better. If 15.♕xc6 ♕xf3; or 15.♗e2 ♖ac8, threatening 16… ♖fd8, trapping the queen. Black has a strong initiative. 15.cxb5 ♘b4 16.♕xd8 ♖fxd8 17.♖xd8+ ♖xd8

‘White over-estimates his position, and comes, therefore, into serious trouble. After the simple move 18.♗c4, and, if 18…♘xa2, 19.♔e2, etc., the result would probably be a draw.’ – Alekhine. Best is 18…♘c2+ 19.♔e2 ♘xe3 20.♔xe3 ♗h6+ 21.♔e2 ♘c5, and Black should be able to hold. 18.a3 ♘c2+ 19.♔f2 ♘xe3 20.♔xe3 ♗h6+

21.♔f2

‘The last mistake, which allows the pinning of all his pieces. His only drawing chance consisted in 21.♔e2 ♘d4+ 22.♘xd4 ♖xd4, etc. Now all is over.’ – Alekhine. There is an alternative for Black: 21…♘c5 22.♘xc5 ♖d2+ 23.♔e1 bxc5, with some winning chances. 21…♖d1 22.♗g2 ♖d3 23.♘c1 ♖d2+ 24.♘e2 ♘d4 25.♖e1 ♖xb2 26.♔f1 ♘c2 0-1

The rook can’t escape. Giving an objective assessment of this game is difficult. 8…♘h5 and 9…e5 were strange, yet they did give Black counterplay. This strategy has never been repeated in this exact position, nor even similar ones. Yet Khan did succeed in generating play, certainly enough to confuse Winter. In the end, the only thing that counts is the result – and winning with black in 26 moves is an achievement. After the first-round loss to Alekhine, his results against the foreign contingent were reasonable. Solid draws against Koltanowski and Kashdan, a victory against Tartakower – but he finished with a loss against Maroczy. Sultan Khan G.Maroczy Sunday Referee Tournament, London (11) 11th February 1932

position after 37…d5-d4

The players had gone into an endgame where Khan had a knight against three pawns and the better chances, but he was outplayed. Here, despite recovering one of the pawns, he is getting pushed back. 38.♘f4 d3

Khan had to give back the knight here. Alekhine thought that ‘… Black’s slight advantage in the Rook ending would hardly be sufficient for forcing a win’, though I would say that White is still in some trouble. But that is a moot point: the sac-back was essential. In a few moves Khan was forced to give the knight anyway, but under far worse conditions. 39.♖c1 ♖b2+ 40.♔c3 ♔c6 41.h4 gxh3 42.gxh3 ♖xa2 43.♘xd3 exd3 44.♔xd3 ♖h2 45.♖a1 a2 46.♔c4 ♔d6 47.♖d1+ ♔e5 48.♖a1 ♔e4 49.h4 ♔xe3 50.♔xc5 f4 51.♔c4 f3 52.♔c3 ♖xh4 53.♖xa2 f2 0-1

For this victory Maroczy received the £10 prize for the ‘best recovery’. A disappointing end to the tournament for Khan. Nevertheless, he had improved on his performance at Hastings, and was at least playing on a par with Kashdan. Alekhine experienced no difficulties, easing into first place by drawing his final two games. He was relaxed enough to fit in two simultaneous exhibitions, one a few days before the tournament at the Empire Social Chess Club and another on the rest day. There were 150 spectators at the latter

display. The World Champion was at the height of his powers and popularity.168

CHAPTER 22

Langford Club Match 1932 ‘A chess match, or rather two matches, of an unusual character…’ – British Chess Magazine Not long after the conclusion of the Sunday Referee tournament, Sultan Khan was involved in a challenge match organised by the London player, Victor Buerger. Born in 1904 in a town near Odessa, part of the Russian Empire, he emigrated with his family after anti-Jewish pogroms. Speaking of this time, Buerger recalled hiding in a cellar while Cossacks rampaged through the town setting fire to buildings.169 Buerger was educated in England and became a highly successful trader on the London stock market. He was a talented chess player, one of the most promising of the younger generation in England in the 1920s, but he could not devote himself to the game in view of his career. He was adventurous, not just in business, but in life in general. At one point he branched out and became a jockey, riding race-horses. The rules of the match were novel. Sultan Khan and Victor Buerger formed a ‘British team’; their opponents, Salo Flohr and Dr. Salo Landau – a ‘Foreign team’. Six-game matches would be played: Khan against Flohr; Buerger against Landau. The team with the highest aggregate score at the end would be declared the winner. There is a curious side story as to how the players came to be at the match. Flohr was still in London after the Sunday Referee tournament which had finished on 12th February, but what about Landau? He had also been present in the capital – playing in an international bridge contest; his partner was none other than Emanuel Lasker, the former World Chess Champion. Why didn’t Lasker play in this challenge match? By this stage, the sixty-three-year old was in semi-retirement from the chess world. Apart from a few simultaneous displays and exhibition games, Lasker had played no serious chess since the Moscow international of 1925. Landau, on the other hand, a mere twenty-eight years old, was an active player, regularly representing the

Netherlands in team competitions. A considerable purse was at stake, put up by the players themselves and their friends. Alekhine wagered a large sum on the foreign players, no doubt with Flohr’s excellent form in mind, and perhaps mindful that Landau played far more regularly than Buerger – evident at the Sunday Referee tournament where the latter had only scored 3/11. The matches were played over six consecutive days starting on 22nd February at the Langford Club, a private members club in St. John’s Wood, very near to where Sultan Khan had first met Capablanca in April 1929. The playing sessions were from 6-11pm, presumably to fit in with Buerger’s working hours. On the whole, play over the six games between Khan and Flohr was unspectacular. The Czech player was as responsible as ever, and the chief interest came with Khan’s customary unevenness. He lost a poor game in the first round – another Queen’s Indian with white. In game 2 Khan started with 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 d5, and was simply worse after 3.cxd5 ♘xd5 4.e4. Was he mixing this up with the pioneering opening of Ernst Grünfeld, 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 g6 3.♘c3 d5…? He succeeded in complicating and drew a messy game in 60 moves. Game 3 was hard work too. Khan, with white, repeated the Caro-Kann Exchange Variation that he had played against Flohr in the second round of the Sunday Referee tournament: 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.exd5 cxd5 4.♗d3. Once again, a slow manoeuvring game arose, but this time the Indian managed to use his space advantage to create a decisive breakthrough. Sultan Khan S.Flohr Langford Club match, London (3) February 1932

position after 55.♔e3-e4 55…♔d7 56.♖xf7+ ♔xc6 57.♖xf8 ♔xc7 58.♖f7+ ♔d8 59.♖xh7 g5 60.♖g7 ♖h3 61.♖xg5 ♖xh2 62.♖g8+ ♔c7 63.♖g6 a5 64.♖xe6 ♔b7 65.♖f6 ♖g2 66.e6 ♖xg4+ 67.♔d5 ♔c7 68.♖f7+ ♔d8 69.♖xa7 ♖h4 70.♔c5 1-0

Games 4 and 5 were drawn – the balance wasn’t seriously upset in either. All was even going into game 6. S.Flohr Sultan Khan Langford Club match, London (6) February 1932

position after 35.♕d1-h1

White controls the c-file and has pressure on the kingside. For the time being Black can hold the position together if he plays 35…♗e8, although a tough defence would be in prospect. Instead, Khan blunders immediately. Time pressure? 35…♔g8? 36.♗xd5

With an extra pawn, as well as all the positional advantages, the win was easy for White. The final score: Salo Flohr 3½-2½ Sultan Khan. A close match, but this confirmed the results over the last couple of months: of the younger generation, Flohr was the most likely to make it to the summit of the chess world, but Khan was not far behind. Overall, the home team won the challenge as Buerger upset the form books, defeating Landau 4½-1½ – and Alekhine was left out of pocket.

CHAPTER 23

Cambridge Easter Congress 1932 ‘… there is no more unassuming or popular player.’ – The Hastings & St Leonards Observer Sultan Khan was invited to a masters’ tournament in Antwerp from 14-19th March but decided to decline as his schedule in the first couple of months of the year had already been full. He needed more rest before the next event in Cambridge.170 However, Khan did play a county match on 12th March and once again his opponent was R.P.Michell. Surrey and Middlesex met over a staggering 100 boards to contest the Amboyna Shield (awarded to the winning team over the first 50 boards) and the Ebony Shield (awarded to the winning team over the entire 100 boards). Such mammoth matches were not uncommon. In those days there was greater pride in one’s county and the opportunities for playing a serious game of chess were fewer. Khan plays with enterprise and freedom, as well as a good understanding of the opening variation, developed through his practical experiences over the last couple of years. R.P.Michell Sultan Khan Surrey-Middlesex, Amboyna and Ebony Shields match 12th March 1932 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♗b4 4.♕b3 c5 5.dxc5 ♘c6 6.♘f3 ♘e4 7.♗d2

7…♘xc5 8.♕c2 f5 9.g3 etc. was the continuation of Winter-Khan, Hastings 1930/31 (round 5) as well as Michell-Colle, Hastings 1930/31 (round 9) in both cases with wins for White (see Chapter 11). 7…♘xd2 8.♘xd2 f5

This was exactly the same as their last-round game in Hastings a few months before which had continued 9.g3 ♗xc5 10.♗g2 0-0 11.0-0 b6 12.a3 ♗b7 13.♕d1 ♖b8 14.♘f3 ♕f6 15.e3 g5. The score of that game is only known

up until this point. In any case, Michell varied from the fianchetto: 9.e3 ♗xc5 10.♗e2 0-0 11.0-0

Pleci-Khan, Liège 1930, had continued 11.♘f3 b6 12.0-0-0?! ♗b7 with a convincing victory for Khan in 40 moves. 11…g5 12.♖fd1 g4 13.♘a4 ♗e7 14.♖ac1 b6 15.a3 ♗a6 16.♘c3 ♗b7 17.♘b5 ♘e5 18.♘f1 h5 19.♘g3 h4 20.♘h5 h3

Khan is having fun. It’s also very powerful, if followed up correctly. This is true hypermodern chess, advancing the flank pawns to take control over the diagonal. I cannot imagine any English players of this era playing in the same style. 21.♘f4 ♕b8

Instead 21…♖f6 would safeguard the pawn chain and maintain the attack. 22.c5

A powerful move and it should have led to a win after Black’s reply. 22…bxc5

22…♖f7 was a better defence. 23.♘xe6

23.♖xd7 ♘xd7 24.♕xe6+ ♖f7 25.♕g6+ ♖g7 26.♗c4 is the clearest way to win. Over the next few moves the advantage swings back and forth before Khan settles matters. I am sure that time pressure played a part. 23…c4 24.♗xc4 dxe6 25.♗xe6+ ♔h8 26.♗d5 ♖c8 27.♖xc8+ ♕xc8 28.e4 ♖b8 29.♕g3 ♘g6 30.♘xa7 ♕f8 31.gxh3 ♗xd5 32.♖xd5 ♖xb2 33.♖xf5 ♕xf5 0-1

If 34.exf5 ♖b1+ 35.♔g2 ♘h4+ 36.♕xh4+ ♗xh4 with an extra rook. Although this wasn’t the smoothest of victories, Khan displayed a certain swagger which he managed to carry through into his next tournament. The first ever Cambridge chess congress took place over Easter 1932 – ‘thanks to the fine enterprise shown by the young and virile Cambridge County Chess Association’.171 There were eight participants in the premier all-play-all tournament: seven ‘home’ players and a Dutchman, Johannes van den Bosch, who came with a good reputation.172 Sultan Khan’s politician patron, Sir John Simon, agreed to open the congress, a mark of how well connected the chess community was to the country’s establishment. After his work on the Indian constitutional commission, Simon had been appointed Foreign Secretary in 1931 and had just returned from the disarmament conference in Geneva. His speech in Cambridge was witty, topical and well-received. ‘A congress which is going to be conducted on the principle that nobody speaks and which is quite certain by the end of next week to have achieved some definite result which nobody will seek to deny or to contradict, is a curiosity among international congresses. I shall take Cambridge as a very pleasant model of what a congress ought to be to places like Geneva or Lausanne.’

– which was greeted by laughter and cheers by the assembled company. Sir John said he had taken an interest in chess over many years and had enjoyed following the great players. He recalled how he had happened to be in Buenos Aires during the Alekhine-Capablanca World Championship match: ‘I gazed at the players through a plate-glass window, much in the way you would look at corpses in a morgue. I watched for three-quarters of an hour, during which time Alekhine made no move. Each man had the same pieces – a king a castle and four pawns – and exactly at midnight Dr Alekhine made the move which I should have made in thirty seconds. The next morning the game was drawn by mutual consent.’ He went on to claim that he had done something for international chess through introducing Sultan Khan to chess circles in England: ‘I doubt if there is any game in which it is more important to exhibit two essential qualities of sport – modesty when you think you are going to win, and determination when you think you are going to lose.’173 Determination in a lost position was certainly displayed by Sultan Khan in his first-round game. Sultan Khan P.S.Milner-Barry Cambridge Easter Congress (1) 26th March 1932 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 e6 3.♘c3 ♗b4 4.♕c2 ♘c6

Khan has followed the fashion of the time and met the Nimzo-Indian with 4.♕c2. Milner-Barry replies with his patent weapon, 4…♘c6, resulting in a position where he can set up an aggressive counter-attack. To this day, this variation still has an excellent reputation – and still bears Sir Stuart MilnerBarry’s name. 5.♘f3 d6 6.♗d2 e5 7.d5 ♗xc3 8.♗xc3 ♘e7 9.e4 0-0 10.♘h4 ♘h5 11.g3 f5 12.♗e2 ♕e8 13.♗d2

A curious retreat and loss of time. Holding firm with 13.f3 looks better. 13…fxe4 14.♕xe4 ♘f6 15.♕c2 ♗h3 16.♖g1 ♕d7 17.f3 ♘f5 18.♘xf5 ♗xf5 19.♕b3 c6 20.g4 ♗g6 21.dxc6 bxc6 22.♗c3 ♖ab8 23.♕a3 ♕c7

Khan’s position is ragged. Can his king find a safe spot? Queenside is the only option available, but it is hardly comfortable with the lack of pawn cover and Black’s bishop lurking on g6. Milner-Barry was at his best in such positions, always prepared to offer material in striving for the initiative. 24.0-0-0 d5 25.♗b4 c5 26.♗xc5 ♖fd8 27.♗b4 e4 28.fxe4 ♘xe4 29.♖gf1 ♕xh2 30.♗d3 dxc4 31.♗xc4+ ♔h8 32.♖xd8+ ♖xd8 33.♗d3

In a difficult position, Khan makes a terrible mistake – but short of time Milner-Barry misses his chance. Here 33…♕h3 or 33…♘g3 would have exploited White’s loose pieces and open king to win material. 33…♕c7+ 34.♗c3

Milner-Barry might have overlooked that this was possible: if 34…♘xc3 35.♖f8+ and mate. 34…♘c5 35.♗xg6 hxg6 36.♔b1 ♕e7 37.♖e1 ♕d6 38.♗b4

Forcing an endgame in which the knight is clearly superior to the bishop and Khan’s technique in finishing the game is powerful and efficient. 38…♕d3+ 39.♕xd3 ♘xd3 40.♖d1 ♖d5 41.♗c3 ♘f4 42.♖xd5 ♘xd5 43.♗d4 a6 44.♔c2 ♔g8 45.♔b3 ♔f7 46.♔a4 ♔e6 47.♔a5 ♔d6 48.a3 ♘f6 49.g5 ♘e4 50.♗e3 ♔c7 51.♔xa6 ♘d6 52.a4 ♔d7 53.b4 ♔c8 54.♗f4 ♔b8 55.♗xd6+ ♔a8 56.♗c5 1-0

This adventurous game was typical of Khan’s style throughout the tournament: it was as though he had been released from the painstaking technical games against Flohr, returning with vigour to the traditional handto-hand combat of the English players.

In the second round he once again accepted Alexander’s gambit against the Caro-Kann: 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.♘c3 dxe4 4.f3 exf3 5.♘xf3 ♗g4 (good move. 5…♘f6 6.♗c4 b5?! 7.♗b3 e6?! was their game in January) 6.♗c4 e6 7.0-0 ♘f6 8.♗g5 ♗e7 9.♘e2 ♘bd7 10.♕e1 ♕b6. It looks as though Khan had been schooled; and he carefully brought the game to victory in an endgame. In the third game, he had to fight hard to draw in 57 moves against Thomas.174 Khan played a Dutch Defence – for the first and only time in his recorded chess career – against Menchik in round 4, and the gamble paid off. Thrown off balance, the Women’s World Champion spent an hour over the first seven moves, and was then completely out-played. Khan’s victory was confirmation that his defeat to her in Hastings was merely an aberration. In rounds 5 and 6 he drew with Tylor and then Yates. After six rounds, Khan and Van den Bosch shared the lead with four and a half points and, in the final round, they were to play each other. A grand finale was guaranteed. J.van den Bosch Sultan Khan Cambridge Easter Congress (7) 2nd April 1932 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 g6 3.♘c3 d5

After his failed attempt at a Grünfeld against Flohr (1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 d5?!), this time Khan makes it to the third move correctly. 4.♘f3 ♗g7 5.e3 0-0 6.♕b3 c6 7.♗d2 dxc4 8.♗xc4 b5 9.♗d3 ♗e6 10.♕c2 a5

Khan gives up the strong-point on d5 and trusts in his activity on the queenside. Later on, the so-called ‘Botvinnik bishops’ on g7 and e6 were a trademark for the future World Champion. 11.0-0 ♕b6 12.♘g5 ♗d7 13.♘ce4 ♘a6 14.♘xf6+ exf6

I suspect that the Dutchman had underestimated this recapture. It allows Khan to shake White’s control over the c5-square so that the backward pawn on c6 is no longer a problem. 15.♘e4 f5 16.♘c5 ♘xc5 17.dxc5 ♕c7 18.♗c3 ♗e5

An excellent move, keeping control over the diagonal. Once White exchanges, the queen takes the place of the bishop and Khan takes the upper hand. 19.♗xe5 ♕xe5 20.♗e2 ♗e6 21.♗f3 ♖fd8

21…♖ac8 22.♖ad1 would have allowed White to consolidate. 22.♖fd1

Instead, 22.♗xc6 ♖ac8 23.♗f3 ♖xc5 gives Black a superb initiative. 22…♗d5

Another strong move, exchanging off the active bishop and in so doing bringing the rook up the board. 23.♗xd5 ♖xd5 24.♖xd5 ♕xd5 25.♖d1

This is understandable, seeking to activate, albeit at the cost of a pawn – but it doesn’t pay off. The subtle 25.♕c3, keeping an eye on Black’s a-pawn and preparing to move to d4, is correct and should hold. 25…♕xa2 26.h4

At first sight it seems everything is fine for White. This move solves the back rank problem, preparing to move the rook down the board, but Khan’s next move squashes hope. 26…♕c4 Practically forcing an exchange of queens as the c5 and h4 pawns are en prise. In spite of the damaged queenside pawns, Black has a clear advantage as b2 and c5 are vulnerable. 27.♕xc4 bxc4 28.♖d6? ♖b8 29.♖xc6 ♖xb2 30.♔f1 c3 0-1

A rapid dénouement, but Van den Bosch had already lost the thread of the game.

This victory confirmed Khan’s return to form as well as his dominance over the home players, something that was in doubt after his unconvincing performance at Hastings a couple of months before, not to mention the British Championship the previous summer. Nevertheless, the correspondent of the British Chess Magazine did not allow himself to get carried away with Khan’s victory: ‘Playing with his usual calm and accuracy Sultan Khan went through the tournament undefeated. His victory, however, was perhaps to be anticipated.’ But they had an obvious favourite: ‘The real hero of the occasion was, no doubt, the young Cambridge player, C.H.O’D.Alexander, who played a most forward and interesting chess, and thoroughly deserved the high place he took in this tournament.’ Style above result! Elsewhere, Khan’s victory was met with warmth and enthusiasm: ‘The triumph of Mir Sultan Khan in the Cambridge Easter tournament is very pleasing. It is a feat which, taken in conjunction with his partial successes at Hastings and in the Referee tournament, stamps the Indian

as a fairly easy first among British Empire players. Young, enthusiastic and ingenious, there are, in my view, few limits to his possibilities. His extraordinary persistence is a great asset, often enabling him to turn an apparently lost game into a win or a draw, and there is no more unassuming or popular player.’175 The question, as before, was whether he could reproduce that form consistently against continental players.

CHAPTER 24

An Adjudication The final match of the Southern Counties Chess Union championship between Middlesex and Hampshire took place on 7th May 1932. Sultan Khan faced Sir George Thomas and opened with 1.e4, rejecting his customary Exchange Variation against the Caro-Kann in favour of 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.♘c3 dxe4 4.♘xe4 ♗f5 5.♘g3 ♗g6 6.♗c4 ♘d7 7.f4 – which is a bit crude. This looks like the early days of 1929 and 1930 when Khan often rushed his pawns forward in the opening without heeding the consequences. Thomas understood the middlegame well and soon exploited the kingside weaknesses, but it was a messy position and he failed to finish off the game. In fact, the advantage changed hands a few times near the end of the session. Sultan Khan Sir G.A.Thomas County match, Middlesex-Hampshire 7th May 1932 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.♘c3 dxe4 4.♘xe4 ♗f5 5.♘g3 ♗g6 6.♗c4 ♘d7 7.f4 e6 8.♘f3 ♘gf6 9.0-0 ♗e7 10.♘h4 ♘d5 11.♘xg6 hxg6 12.♘e4 ♕c7 13.♗b3 g5 14.g3 gxf4 15.♗xf4 ♘xf4 16.♖xf4 ♕a5 17.♕f3 ♘f6 18.♖f1 0-0-0 19.c3 ♖h6 20.♕e2 ♖dh8 21.♖1f2 ♔b8 22.♘d2 g5 23.♘c4 ♕c7 24.♖4f3

24…♘g4 25.♖xf7 ♘xf2 26.♕xf2 c5 27.♘e5 cxd4 28.♘g4 ♖6h7 29.♖xh7 ♖xh7 30.cxd4 ♕c1+ 31.♔g2 ♖h8 32.♗xe6 ♕c6+ 33.d5 ♕c4 34.b3 ♕b4 35.♕e2 ♖f8 36.♘e5 ♔a8 37.♘g6 ♖d8 38.♘xe7 ♕xe7 39.♕e5 g4 40.♕c3 ♖f8 41.♗xg4 ♕a3 42.♕d2 ♕a6 43.♕e2 ♕f6 44.♗e6 ♕d4 45.h4 a6 46.h5 ♖f6 47.g4 ♖f4 48.h6 ♖e4176

Here the session was declared at an end and the position below sent for adjudication – by Fred Yates. It took a few weeks before he declared a result: draw. Was that the correct judgment?

adjudicated position after 48…♖f4-e4

Despite the three passed pawns, White’s position is perilous as the bishop doesn’t do much for the king’s defence. 49.♕f3 loses to 49…♕d2+ 50.♔g3 ♖e3; and 49.♕c2 ♖e1! also puts White in trouble. White’s only move is 49.♕f2 – and then it is Black’s turn to be careful. The attempt to draw by 49…♖xg4+ 50.♗xg4 ♕xg4+ isn’t convincing: 51.♕g3 ♕e2+ 52.♔g1 ♕d1+ 53.♔f2 ♕d2+ 54.♔f3 ♕xh6 55.♔e4 and Black still has some work to do. The best move is 49…♖e3, and then White needs to find 50.♕f8+ ♔a7 51.♕f2!, ensuring that Black’s rook is pinned if the queen moves. The best continuation for both sides is 51…♔b8 52.♕f8+ ♔a7 53.♕f2 with a draw by repetition. Yates was right!

CHAPTER 25

Bern International Tournament 1932 ‘… even in the trickiest positions an unshakeable and super-human calm.’ – tournament book The Schachklub Bern had the idea to host the Swiss championship, and to expand it into an international tournament. Ten Swiss players were invited and six foreign masters: Alexander Alekhine, Max Euwe, Efim Bogoljubow, Salo Flohr, Ossip Bernstein and Sultan Khan. Securing the participation of the World Champion was a major coup, but the others also had star quality: Euwe was being spoken of as a potential world title challenger; Bogoljubow had had a title match against Alekhine in 1929, and won the silver medal on board one for Germany in the Prague Olympiad 1931; Flohr was on a phenomenal run of form playing back-toback tournaments and matches; Ossip Bernstein was almost 50 years old, but with a formidable reputation. And Sultan Khan? After Hastings, his results had shown a distinct improvement and, with his victory in Cambridge, he seemed to be playing at his best again. This was only the second occasion that Khan had played in a continental event without British team-mates, and that provided a challenge.

Bern 1932. At the back, from left to right, the Swiss players: W.Rivier (top of head only), F.Gygli, O.Naegeli (behind Euwe, face only), H.Johner, P.Johner (behind H.Johner), B.Colin, A.Staehelin (​between Colin and Alekhine), H.Grob, E.Voellmy, W.Henneberger. In front of them, from left to right: M.Euwe, Sultan Khan, O.Bernstein, A.Alekhine, S.Flohr, with E.​Bogoljubow in front.

This passage from the tournament book describes a scene at the start of the tournament which might be familiar to any itinerant chess player. It was written by Fritz Widmann, a well-known painter, newspaper columnist, chess enthusiast and, later, president of the Swiss Chess Federation. ‘The guests arrived at the Hotel Gurten-Kulm on 15th July, the eve of the great battle. Rainstorms and swathes of fog obscured the view. Drips ran down the window-panes – and from the finely curved nose of the Indian, Sultan Khan, suffering from a heavy cold, who paced through the salons, lonely and lost, occasionally stopping at a window to peer through the misted panes at the wet, rainy landscape. This melancholy scene touched my heart and I was filled with the desire to somehow make up for the inhospitable weather of our country. But how? Ha! A bold thought crossed my mind: why not play chess? What did we all come here for anyway? The suggestion is cheeky; after all, he is not only a great master, but also the champion of Great Britain, while you are merely the champion of a chess backwater.178 But who knows, perhaps fortune favours the brave – and in any case it is your duty to look after the lonely. I made up my mind and wandered through the hotel. We crossed paths a couple of times, he grinned, I grinned – finally I plucked up courage and, as I know that Sultan Khan is a Mohammedan, I greeted him at the next opportunity with “Salem aleikum and good evening”, to which he replied in a friendly manner. A waitress was then able to interpret between us and Sultan Khan was agreeable to my suggestion; we ordered tea and played chess. And how did it go? Well – it was mixed: once he would win, then I would lose, then he would win again, and so it went on, even when I tried the famous “Reversed Indian” variation. To sum up, luck didn’t smile on me, but it did on the face of the fine Indian who seemed

amused. With a firm handshake at the end of the evening, we parted as friends.’ This anecdote might well sum up Khan’s plight in continental Europe: a bit lonely, often ill, and dependent on the kindness of others. In this tournament, however, by all accounts, the organisers had made every effort to look after their guests, and the players got on well together. There were impromptu blitz sessions, games of bridge, table-tennis, and music. Widmann sketches a happy scene from outside on the hotel terrace. He could hear one of the Swiss players, Professor Rivier, improvising on the piano on the ground floor. From the open balcony windows on the first floor came the strains of a gramophone – which Euwe, accompanied by his wife and her niece, had brought with him to the tournament. The music would act as a siren call for Flohr: ‘Tanz bei Euwe!’. On the top floor, accompanying the clatter of the journalists’ typewriters, there was whistling and singing from The Times chess correspondent, E.S.Tinsley, and the Berlin master Rellstab.179 Khan involved himself in the chess activities, at the very least. Widmann describes an analysis session between the players: ‘There could be four or five hands simultaneously moving the pieces in a confusion of opinions and rebuttals. And twice I saw the dark hand of Sultan Khan mixed up in this performance, on both occasions making a move that caught the others by surprise, for the Indian, with his fine feeling, had found a parry that had escaped them all.’ Before the first round began, the players were welcomed by Herr Raaflaub, the President of the Bern Chess Club and director of the tournament. There followed a joint lunch for the competitors, organisers and members of the press, then at exactly two o’clock battle commenced, the silence of the tournament hall accompanied only by the roll of distant thunder from the clouds over the Bernese Oberland. In round one, as in London, Khan was drawn against the World Champion. A.Alekhine Sultan Khan

Bern International Tournament (1) 16th July 1932

Alekhine’s annotations are taken from My Best Games of Chess 1924-37, and where indicated from the tournament book, which varies in places. 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.exd5 cxd5 4.c4 ♘f6 5.♘c3 ♘c6 6.♘f3 ♗g4 7.cxd5 ♘xd5 8.♗b5

Alekhine was experienced in this line. He had played it with black against Nimzowitsch in 1931 (and beaten him); and in London, with white, he had defeated William Winter with a brilliant attack. Both games had continued 8…♕a5. As Alekhine pointed out, 8…♖c8 is the most reliable move.

8…a6

In the tournament book, Alekhine described this move as ‘unselfconscious’, and it does have a certain naivety to it. The pin is cleared up straightaway, but it involves a loss of time so that Black lags behind in development. ‘The point of the text-move is a positional Pawn-offer, by no means easy to refute over the board’ – Alekhine. 9.♗xc6+ bxc6 10.♕a4 ♘xc3 11.♕xc6+ ♗d7 12.♕xc3 ♖c8 13.♕e3 ♗b5

‘In order to be able [to] castle, White has to weaken his queenside and in addition the black queen’s bishop is able to reach a dominating central square without losing time. As one can see, the treatment of the opening by the player of the black pieces is not easy to judge.’ (Alekhine in the tournament

book) 14.a4 ♗c4 15.b3 ♗d5 16.0-0

16…♕b6

‘But now he completely misjudges the position. His chances didn’t lie so much in the immediate recapture of the pawn, as in permanent pressure on the opponent’s weaknesses after completing development. Therefore, simply 16…e6 should have been played, and if 17.♘e5 ♗b4 18.♗d2 ♕a5 19.♗xb4 ♕xb4 20.♖fc1 0-0 with equality in prospect. With this, it seems Sultan Khan’s novelty puts the Nimzowitsch-Krause move 8.♗b5 in question. Perhaps White can get more from the opening with 8.♕b3?’ – Alekhine in the tournament book. A small correction: in this variation White should play 20.♘d3 ♕d6 21.b4, consolidating the queenside, but instead 18…♗xd2 19.♕xd2 0-0 gives compensation – as Alekhine describes. How many times have we seen Khan make this early queen excursion in the opening? It is hardly surprising that such an adventure is dubious when Black’s kingside is at a standstill. 17.♗d2

Alekhine awards himself an exclamation mark for this move, though 17.♗a3 is even better.

17…e6

Khan backs down. 17…♕xb3 18.♕xb3 ♗xb3 19.♖fb1 ♗d5 20.♖b6 ♖a8 21.♘e5 gives White a pleasant initiative. 18.♖fc1 ♖b8 19.♘e5 f6

By this stage normal developing moves aren’t satisfactory: 19…♗e7 20.♕g3 continues White’s initiative. 20.♘c6

‘The object of this knight move is to make a definite end to Black’s attacks against the Q Kt’s Pawn.’ – Alekhine. 20…♖a8 21.♘a5

‘Intending eventually 22.♖c6! etc.’ Alekhine. 21…♔f7

‘This king’s position in an early stage of the game is more familiar to Sultan Khan than to European or American players, as in Indian chess castling is effected in three movements: (1) ♔e7, d7 or f7; (2) a rook move from its original square; (3) a knight’s move, with the king back on the first rank and on the side of the rook’s movement – this provided the king has not been under check in the meantime. Returning to the present game, one must admit that Black, owing to the threat above mentioned, did not have, in reality, anything better than the king’s move’ – Alekhine.

22.♘c4 ♕b7 23.♕g3 ♗e7 24.a5

‘The initial move of the decisive scheme: the establishment of the knight at b6 will permit White to take full advantage of the c-file’ – Alekhine. 24…♖ad8 25.♘b6 ♗c6 26.♖c4

‘This had to be exactly calculated, because of the possible answer 26…e5, in which case White had decided to give back the extra pawn, in order to obtain a strong direct attack. The continuation would be 27.♖ac1 ♖xd4 28.♖xc6 ♖xd2 29.♕g4 ♖hd8 30.♕e6+ ♔f8 31.h3 ♖d1+ 32.♖xd1 ♖xd1+ 33.♔h2, etc. ’ – Alekhine. 26…♖he8 27.♖ac1 ♗b5 28.♖c7 ♕e4

29.d5

‘Instead of the simple 29. ♗c3 – which in the long run would also prove sufficient – White decides to force the game by a sharply calculated combination. If Black had tried now his best practical chance by 29…exd5 the following variation would have occurred: 30.♖e1 ♗e2 31.♘a4 (one of the important links of White’s combination) 31…d4 32.♘c5 ♕c2 33.♖xe2 ♕d1+ 34.♖e1 ♕xd2 35.♔f1! and Black would be defenceless against the many threats. The remaining moves would probably be 35…♔g8 36.♘e6 g6 37.♘xd8 ♕xe1+ 38.♔xe1 ♗d6+ 39.♔d2 ♗xg3 40.hxg3 ♖xd8 41.♖c6 ♖d5 42.b4, after which Black would have to resign.’ – Alekhine. 29…♔g8

30.♖e1

30.d6 is stronger, with the idea that 30…♗f8 31.d7 ♖e7 32.♖c8 ♖dxd7 33.♕b8 wins for White. 30…♕f5

Losing rapidly. Instead 30…♕g6 would keep Black in the game: 31.♕xg6 hxg6 32.♖xe6 ♗d6 and White still needs to show some technique. 31.♗b4 ♖d7 32.♖xd7 ♗xd7 33.♗xe7 exd5

‘Or 33…♖xe7 34.♕d6 wins’ – Alekhine. 34.♕d6

Black resigned. Playing against the World Champion in round 1 was never going to be easy, but the opening was poor. With Alekhine’s previous experience in the

variation, this line could have been predicted, yet Khan’s play had all the signs of improvisation. Khan hit back in round two, against one of the strongest Swiss players, although his play was unconvincing. The Times chess correspondent reported: ‘Sultan Khan won a piece for two pawns against P.Johner and won an irregular game in 37 moves.’ ‘Irregular’ is a beautiful understatement. Khan’s king staggered from the middle of the board to the queenside, then back into the middle again before he landed a knockout punch in the chaos. Sultan Khan P.Johner Bern International Tournament (2) 17th July 1932

position after 34…♔d7-e6 35.♕b4 exd3 36.♕e7+ ♔f5 37.♕f6+

and Black resigned. If 37…♔e4 38.♕g6+ ♘f5 (38…♖f5 39.♖h4#) 39.♖c4+ wins the queen. Round three was disastrous. Khan attempted a completely inappropriate kingside offensive, as though he were playing a patzer in a blitz game.

B.Colin Sultan Khan Bern International Tournament (3) 18th July 1932

position after 17.♗g5-c1 17…g5?

‘Dans la main de Sultan Khan, de tels coups ont déjà contribué à la defaite de plus d’un adversaire.’ (Colin in the tournament book). And to his own defeat too.180 18.e4 ♘d7 19.♘d5 ♘e5 20.♕e2 ♕h3 21.♘xe7+ ♔h8 22.f4

Khan is a pawn down, and his kingside ruined. He resigned after 46 moves. The abilities of the Swiss player were hardly tested – although Colin was by all accounts one of the weakest participants in the tournament. One point from the first three games. Perhaps Khan was suffering from the effects of his cold; or perhaps the lay-off after the last tournament (Cambridge at the beginning of April) was simply too long. That was often the case in his chess career. He should have lost in the fourth game, but his Swiss opponent cracked in complications and, after this victory, Khan succeeded in playing himself back into form. After 7 rounds he had 5 points and was even with Euwe when they

played in round 8.

Sultan Khan sketched during his game against Euwe – from the tournament book.

This game showed the best and the worst of Sultan Khan. Not for the first time, he completely bungled his attempt to play the Grünfeld: 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 d5 3.c4 g6?! 4.cxd5 ♘xd5 5.e4 – and already stood worse. Euwe played in his typically responsible way, pressing his positional advantage into an endgame and winning a pawn. But Khan never gave up, setting problems, always finding a defence to prolong the game. The Dutchman made some inaccuracies and they reached this position. M.Euwe Sultan Khan Bern International Tournament (8) 23rd July 1932

position after 59.♔e7-d6 59…♗xe6 60.♗xe6 ♔h8

A curious coincidence. This is the same as their game in Hastings – the bishop is the wrong colour to force the king from the corner and it is a theoretical draw. After eight days of play at the Hotel Gurten-Kulm in the hills above Bern, the tournament moved into town, joining competitors in the subsidiary tournaments at the Bern Casino. The hall was crowded, humid, and full of

cigarette smoke, with fierce sunlight filtering through red curtains that cast a bloody oppressive colour over the participants. Perhaps the conditions suited Khan as he continued his revival. The most notable aspect of Khan’s play in Bern was his ability to squeeze wins from endgame positions with little or no advantage. Sultan Khan F.Gygli Bern International Tournament (11) 26th July 1932

position after 26…♔g8-g7

Khan has tied Black down to defending the f7-pawn and intensifies the attack by bringing in the next rook. 27.♖c1 ♗b6 28.♖c6

Doubling on the seventh rank would be good but, at the moment, impossible to achieve. Khan finds another way to attack – along the sixth rank. 28…♖b4 29.♗b3 ♖b5 30.♗c2 ♖b2 31.♗f5 ♔h8

Too careful. 31…♖xa2 was necessary. He was probably concerned about 32.♖g6+ ♔h8 33.♖xh6+ ♔g8 34.♖h5, but here 34…♖d8 is a strong move, exchanging off the active rook, and then the a-pawn provides counterplay. 32.♖xh6+ ♔g8 33.a4 ♖a2 34.♖g6+

One suspects this move was overlooked. 34…fxg6 35.♗e6+ ♔h8 36.♗xa2 ♖d8 37.♖xd8+ ♗xd8

The rest of the game needed precision, but after a couple of false starts Khan found the right idea. 38.♔g2 ♔g7 39.♔f3 ♔f6 40.♔e4 ♗e7 41.♔d5 ♗b4 42.♔e4 ♗c5 43.♔f3 ♗b6 44.♔g4 ♗c5 45.♗b1 ♗b6 46.♔f3 ♗c5 47.♔e2 ♗b6 48.f3 ♗c5 49.e4 ♔e5 50.♗a2 ♗b6 51.♗f7 ♔f6 52.♗e8 ♗c7 53.♔f2!

The pawns can’t just be rushed forward, the king needs to find the right square. 53…♗b6+ 54.♔g2 ♗c7 55.♔h3 ♗b8 56.♔g4 ♗c7 57.h4 gxh4 58.♔xh4 ♗b6 59.♔g4 ♗d8 60.f4 g5 61.e5+ ♔e6 62.♗b5 ♔f7 63.♗c4+ ♔f8 64.♔f5 ♔g7 65.♔e6 1-0

Black will have to give up the bishop for the pawns on the kingside and then the a-pawn decides – the bishop is the right colour. In the next round Khan won against Paul’s brother, Hans Johner – with a performance that the legendary Siegbert Tarrasch subsequently praised in his Schachzeitung. H.Johner Sultan Khan Bern International Tournament (12) 27th July 1932

position after 29…d4xc3

‘With this, a beautiful endgame begins which, with exemplary consistency, the Indian champion steers to victory. He proves that the isolated pawn is not weak, but very strong, as well as demonstrating the advantage of the bishop pair.’ – Tarrasch. In fact, Khan’s play was not as flawless as these words suggest. 30.♗e4 ♗d8 31.♘d4?

31.♘c5, supported by a pawn, is a more stable square for the knight. 31…♗c4 32.♔g2 ♗b6 33.♘c2 f5 34.exf6 gxf6 35.g4 ♔f7 36.♔f3 h5!

A superb move, creating a second attacking front. 37.gxh5 f5 pushes the bishop away from c2 and Black will force the passed pawn home: 38.♗c6 ♗b3 39.♘a1 ♗d1+ 40.♔g2 ♗d4 41.♔f1 c2 42.♘b3 ♗b2. 37.h3 h4!

Fixing the pawn on h3 which must now be guarded carefully. 38.a4 a6?

Mistake. 38…♗f1 was stronger, grabbing the h-pawn, with excellent winning chances. 39.a5?

39.♘e3 would have prevented the bishop reaching f1 or brought about an exchange of bishop for knight: 39…♗xe3 40.♔xe3 ♗f1 41.a5, and there is no time to take the h-pawn. I have a feeling that the last couple of moves were made in a hurry as the time control approached at move 40. 39…♗a7 40.♘e1

40.♘e3 would be answered by 40…♗b5, maintaining all Black’s advantages.

40…♔e7?

40…♗f1 was correct. Khan must have been concerned about 41.♗d3 ♗xf1 42.♗xa6 – understandably, given the connected passed pawns. In fact, Black is winning: 42…♔g6 43.b5 ♗f1; and 43.♗d3+ ♔g5 44.b5 ♗xg4+ 45.♔g2 h3+ 46.♔g1 h2+ 47.♔xh2 ♗xf2 48.♘c2 ♗f3 controls the queenside pawns and prepares to advance his own pawns in the middle.

41.♗d3 ♗xd3 42.♘xd3 ♔d6 43.♔e2 e5 44.f4?

44.♔d1, moving over to blockade the c-pawn, would then allow White’s knight to roam around the board and is good enough to draw. 44…exf4 45.♘xf4 ♔e5 46.♘h5

In the tournament book, Johner claimed that 46.♘g2 would draw after 46… ♔e4 47.♔d1, but he had overlooked 47…♗f2! 48.♔c2 ♔f3 49.♘xh4+ ♗xh4 50.♔xc3 ♔g2 and the king captures both kingside pawns. 46…f5

47.g5

A tempting move, but the final fatal mistake. Instead White can follow a narrow path to a draw with 47.gxf5 ♔xf5 48.♔d3 ♗b8 49.b5! (49.♔xc3 ♔g6 traps the knight and wins the game) 49…axb5 50.a6 b4 51.♘g7+. The knight cannot be trapped and when Black’s king moves over to the a-pawn, the knight sacs itself for the two pawns and the king reaches h1 – a familiar draw. 47…c2 48.♔d2 ♗e3+! 49.♔xc2 ♗xg5 50.♔d3 ♗e7 51.♔c4 f4 52.♘g7 ♗xb4 0-1

At the end, Khan calculated well. Against the ‘foreign’ players, Khan defeated Bernstein comfortably and drew easily against Flohr. With three rounds to go, the leading scores were Alekhine 10, Flohr and Euwe 9½, Khan 9.

In the next round, Khan faced Bogoljubow, who was somewhat out of form on 7 points. Sultan Khan E.Bogoljubow Bern International Tournament (13) 28th July 1932 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 d5 3.g3 c5 4.dxc5 e6 5.♗e3 ♘a6 6.♗g2

Bizarrely, Khan had reached exactly this position earlier in the tournament against Bernstein – but in that case with an extra tempo: 1.d4 d5 2.♘f3 c6 3.g3 ♘f6 4.♗g2 c5 5.dxc5 e6 6.♗e3 ♘a6, and here 7.c4 ♗xc5 8.♗xc5 ♘xc5 9.cxd5 exd5 gave him a clear positional advantage. Once again, the loss of time does not deter him. Bogoljubow uses his extra move to seize the initiative. 6…♘g4 7.♗d4 f6 8.h3 ♘h6 9.c4

With a piece sacrifice in mind. He was probably worried about falling into a passive position after 9.c3 ♘xc5 followed by …e6-e5. 9…e5 10.♘xe5 fxe5 11.♗xe5 ♘f7 12.♗d4 ♕a5+ 13.♗c3 ♕xc5 14.cxd5 ♗d7 15.♘d2 ♕b6 16.♖c1 ♖c8 17.0-0 ♕h6

White would have excellent compensation for the piece if he advanced his pawns through the middle: 18.e4 ♗xh3 19.e5. Instead Khan plays with his pieces – which Black can match easily and the initiative passes over to his opponent. 18.♕c2 ♗e7 19.h4 0-0 20.♘e4 ♖fe8 21.♕d2 ♕g6 22.♕d4 ♗d8 23.h5 ♕h6 24.♗d2 ♗b6 25.♗xh6 ♗xd4 26.♖xc8 ♖xc8 27.♗c1 ♖c2…

Bogoljubow took control and won in 47 moves. After this, Khan finished with two straightforward wins against Swiss players.

Alekhine was the deserved winner, but this victory was not as convincing as San Remo 1930 or Bled 1931. He played the first half of the tournament with his usual dominance, but from then on lost his steadiness and in a couple of games was lucky not to lose. There was a perceptive appraisal of the World Champion’s play in the tournament book: ‘One cannot escape the impression that recently Alekhine has demanded too much of himself. The ceaseless run of simultaneous displays and tournament play must in the end be wearing for someone like Alekhine, whose will to win grants no protection for taught nerves and who always tries to give his best whenever he sits at the board.’ Finishing just a week before Bern, Alekhine had played over 30 simultaneous exhibitions in as many days, criss-crossing from one end of France to the other. This provided quite a contrast with his nearest rivals. Flohr had also had a hectic programme of events, but chose to play in a minimalist manner, reserving most of his energy for defeating the Swiss players. Euwe played with ‘unshakeable solidity…Excitement and sensation were not to be found at his board, instead his games radiated the feeling of clarity and classical beauty.’

Playing 15 games without a rest day – for the benefit of the Swiss amateurs who were unable to take too much time off work – probably didn’t help Alekhine. On the other hand, the schedule didn’t seem to affect Sultan Khan, who played himself into form after a poor start. The tournament book summed up his performance: ‘Sultan Khan brought everything to Bern that one expected of him: a coffee-brown skin, an as yet tiny trove of opening variations, a wealth of tactical surprises, an astounding endgame skill, and even in the trickiest positions an unshakeable and super-human calm. In addition, we can observe that his skills are constantly developing and eclipsing his weaknesses. He played in Bern as never before, and in the near future will surely offer the chess world new surprises.’ There was indeed much to commend in Khan’s performance: perhaps above all his concentration that brought him extra points in long games. His openings, as ever, were often a source of bafflement, though even here there was some improvement. He ventured 1.e4 on one occasion, but otherwise played 1.d4, generally with a kingside fianchetto, giving his openings with white more solidity. With black he was less reliable. His Caro was defeated in round 1 by Alekhine; his Nimzo was shaky in round 4; his own version of the Grünfeld against Euwe, poor. Given his apparent need to play himself into form, it was perhaps good news for Sultan Khan that his next tournament, the British Championship, would follow just a couple of weeks after Bern. Would he have the stamina to keep going through the eleven rounds? Could he regain the title he had lost the previous year?181

CHAPTER 26

British Championship, London 1932 ‘It is a curious fact that the Indian master seems to be able to induce mistakes by his opponents.’ – The Illustrated London News Although Khan’s form had improved, there was still a question mark over whether he could regain the title of British Champion. Yates, who had won the previous year, would be his main rival, and C.H.O’D.Alexander was improving rapidly. The Times chess correspondent noted with anticipation the participation of several of the younger generation: F.F.L.Alexander, H.Golombek, H.A.Hunnam, W.A.Fairhurst, C.H.O’D.Alexander, T.H.Tylor, and of course Sultan Khan. ‘The form of these younger players is generally very good, and if I were asked to select the possible winner of the title I think I should turn to them and suggest that Sultan Khan may repeat his success of 1929.’

Round 1 game, Tylor v. Khan. Sir John Simon stands by the board, with Sir Umar Hayat Khan proudly looking on.

The congress began on 15th August 1932 at the headquarters of the Empire Social Chess Club in Whiteley’s department store, west London. A luncheon was held to open proceedings, presided over by the president of the British Chess Federation, Canon A.G.Gordon Ross, and attended by no less than 178 people. Along with other dignitaries, Sir Umar Hayat Khan was present, and Sir John Simon, who gave his usual speech. In the photograph Sir John is by the board of Sultan Khan – though by rights he should have been by Yates, the reigning champion. Diplomatically it looked good to maintain the friendly Indian connection, not just with Sultan Khan but with Sir Umar too. Yet it was not Sultan Khan that stole the headlines at the start of the championship, but another member of Sir Umar’s household:

GIRL CHESS EXPERT WHO ASTOUNDS THE MASTERS Miss Fatima is the enigma of this year’s congress, and also the youngest competitor. Just 18, with sparkling eyes, the soft brown complexion of India and a thick plait of black hair over her shoulders, Miss Fatima played in her first tournament with the skill and aplomb of a veteran. Miss Fatima was brought up in strict purdah. She came to England about two years ago as a companion in the household of Sir Umar Hayat Khan. Sir Umar, who is a member of the Council of India and an A.D.C. to the king, is a famous patron of chess. With his bright blue turban and silver blue uniform he was a prominent figure at the congress. An Apt Pupil At his house in Kensington Sir Umar keeps almost feudal state. Sultan Khan, who won the British championship at his first attempt, is the Prince’s court chess player. Dr Singh Basalvi, another doughty exponent of the game who is also playing in the congress, is court physician. All the 11 members of Sir Umar’s retinue play a good game of chess. When Fatima came to such a chess loving house it was not long

before she became interested, Sir Umar said. “About 18 months ago she had her first game and was such an apt pupil that now she can beat all of us except Sultan and the doctor. She can certainly beat me,” the Prince smiled ruefully. Hands on chin, brows furrowed and green frock gently shimmering in the sunlight, Fatima strove hard to uphold the prestige of the house of Hayat.182

Miss Fatima plays in her first ever tournament, the British Ladies Championship 1932.

Sultan Khan’s first appearance at the British Championship in 1929 had attracted enormous attention, and now Fatima added exotic feminine appeal to the British chess scene. It’s easy to see how she would stand out among the ‘Little old ladies with pince-nez’.183 Play got underway at 2pm, accompanied by the sound of twelve pneumatic drills, employed in breaking up the road outside, that penetrated through the open windows on a blisteringly hot summer’s day. ‘Several players became as exasperated as phlegmatic devotees of chess ever can be. They actually clicked their teeth in annoyance, and indignation became so

strong that tight-lipped “Tut-tuts” were heard all over the room.’184 T.H.Tylor Sultan Khan British Championship, London (1) 15th August 1932

In previewing the championship, E.S.Tinsley in The Times had given a blunt critique of Sultan Khan’s play: ‘He would go much farther if he could conquer his tendency to believe he can win his games in the first 20 moves, a tendency that more than once led him astray at Berne. He also has a habit of complicating his games to an unnecessary extent, and, though he is exceedingly good in handling these situations, there is hardly one of his rivals in this event whom he can afford to take lightly.’ Is Tinsley correct in his appraisal? I don’t see that Khan complicated unnecessarily – sometimes that’s just the nature of the games. However, he is correct about Khan’s inclination to attack prematurely – as we saw in several games in Bern and elsewhere; and this view was confirmed by this first round performance. 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.♘c3 d6 4.♗b5 a6 5.♗xc6+ bxc6 6.d4 f6 7.dxe5 fxe5 8.♘e2 ♘f6 9.♘g3 ♗e7 10.0-0 0-0 11.♕d3 ♔h8 12.♗d2 ♖b8 13.b3 ♕e8 14.♖ae1 ♘g8

This retreat is a clumsy way to begin the kingside initiative, yet with the relatively closed position Black can get away with it. A few moves ago, instead of 12…♖b8, 12…a5 appeals. 15.♔h1 ♕g6 16.♘g1 ♗h4 17.♘1e2 ♗d7 18.♗a5 ♖bc8 19.♖d1 ♗g5 20.♗d2 ♗xd2 21.♖xd2 ♕g5 22.♖dd1 h5 23.♘g1 h4 24.♘3e2

24…♘h6

An odd square for the knight – highlighted by White’s next move. Instead, either 24…♘e7 or 24…♘f6 put the knight on better circuits. The advantage swings back and forth over the next moves, but the crucial point is that the side with the safer king has a practical advantage – and Tylor’s king is safer. 25.h3 ♖f6 26.f4 exf4 27.♘f3 ♕c5 28.♕d2 g5 29.e5 ♖g6 30.exd6 ♖xd6 31.♕c1 ♖g8 32.♕b2+ ♔h7 33.♘c3 ♗f5 34.♖xd6 cxd6 35.♘a4 ♕xc2 36.♕f6

The position is chaotic, but Khan’s skill in calculation pulls him through. As far as I can gather, the time control was 36 moves in two hours, after which games were adjourned. Who sealed the move is not known, but it must have been at move 37 or 38. As the first round had started in the afternoon, the adjournment session was in the evening when Whiteley’s store was closed, so the Imperial Chess Club made their rooms available for games from the congress. There can’t have been much time for analysis during the adjournment considering that the players would have had to transport themselves across town from Bayswater to Mayfair – not far, about a mile, but involving some disruption. 36…g4 37.♖e1 ♗e4 38.♕e7+ ♖g7 39.♘g5+?

Instead, 39.♕xe4+ ♕xe4 40.♖xe4 gxf3 41.gxf3 would end in a draw. 39…♔g6 40.♕xe4+ ♕xe4 41.♘xe4 ♖e7

The pin is fatal. 42.hxg4

Instead, 42.♖e2 f3 43.gxf3 gxf3 44.♖e3 ♘f5 45.♖xf3 ♖xe4 gives Black a winning endgame. 42…♘xg4 43.♖e2 ♖xe4 0-1

In round 2 Khan faced the coming man, Hugh Alexander. Sultan Khan C.H.O’D.Alexander

British Championship, London (2) 16th August 1932 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 d5 3.g3 c5 4.♗g2 ♘c6 5.c3

Khan was exploring this system with white and black – see his games with Euwe and Bogoljubow from Bern, and against Van den Bosch in Cambridge. In truth it is a bit insipid, but at least he wasn’t putting himself at a disadvantage out of the opening. 5…cxd4

A year later, Alekhine played 5…e6 – why not keep the tension? (KhanAlekhine, Folkestone 1933). 6.cxd4 e6 7.0-0 ♗d6 8.♘c3 0-0 9.b3

In round 4 Khan repeated the opening but deviated here with 9.♗e3 (see Khan-Jackson). The assessment of the position does not change: the bishop on g2 bites against the pawn on d5 and White has no advantage. 9…a6 10.♘a4 ♗d7 11.♗b2 ♘e4 12.♘e5

Following his trusted strategy of throwing the knight on the e5 outpost and seeing what develops. 12…♘xe5 13.dxe5 ♗xa4

Typically, Alexander courts complications at the first opportunity. He could have just dropped the bishop back to e7. 14.bxa4 ♗c5 15.♖b1 ♖c8 16.♕d3 f5 17.exf6 ♘xf6 18.e3 ♕e7 19.♗c3 ♗d6 20.♖b3

Through simple measures White has gained a pleasant position: he has the two bishops and Black’s pawns are vulnerable.

A logical continuation might be 20…♖c7 21.♗xf6 ♖xf6 22.e4, breaking the position favourably. Instead Alexander takes matters in hand and forces events. It is very hard to know whether this was simply a miscalculation or whether he just wanted to reach a messy position – for better or for worse. In that sense he achieved what he wanted. 20…♘d7 21.♖xb7 ♖f7

The brakes have to go on: 21…♘c5 22.♖xe7 ♘xd3 23.♖xg7+ ♔h8 24.♗a1 is very good for White. 22.♗a1 ♖c4 23.e4

The principled move, breaking the position for the bishops. Alexander spies a chance to liquidate and start an attack on f2. 23…♘c5 24.♖xe7 ♘xd3 25.♖xe6 ♗c5 26.♖e8+ ♖f8 27.♖xf8+ ♔xf8 28.exd5 ♘xf2

This looks unpleasant, but Khan counter-attacks perfectly. ‘Here time-pressure, especially in Alexander’s case, became severe.’ (British Chess Magazine) 29.d6 ♖c2

29…♔e8, stepping away from the pin on the file, would present more of a problem, but White gains the advantage with 30.♗c6+ (giving the king room and so preventing perpetual check) 30…♔d8 31.♗xg7 ♘g4+ 32.♔h1 ♗xd6 33.♗f3 ♖xa4 34.♗d5 with a clear extra pawn. 30.♗e4 ♖xa2 31.♗c3 ♖xa4 32.♗c6 ♖c4 33.♗e1 ♖c1 34.d7 ♔e7 35.d8♕+ ♔xd8 36.♗a5+ ♔e7 37.♖xc1 ♘d3+ 38.♖xc5 ♘xc5 39.♗d5 1-0

Khan negotiated the tactics perfectly in the final stages of the game, which, given his time shortage, was impressive. R.P.Michell was his next victim, the win coming in familiar fashion: a turbulent middlegame but Khan finishing off in the endgame. In round four Khan committed a rare tactical blunder. Sultan Khan E.M.Jackson British Championship, London (4) 18th August 1932

position after 17…♕e7xd7

Edward Jackson had played in international matches for England in the 1890s and had only resumed playing in serious tournaments in the late 1920s. Khan would have been the heavy favourite against this veteran. The position is roughly level. 18.♖c4 looks normal to double rooks on the cfile. Instead Khan continued: 18.♖xc6?? ♕xc6 19.♘e5

19.♘g5 was obviously his original intention, attacking the queen and threatening mate on h7, but the x-ray defence 19…♕c2 saves and wins for Black. 19…♕c2

… and Black is an exchange up for nothing. Khan battled on until the 75th move but could not prevent the inevitable. In round five Harry Golombek played solidly against Khan and the game was drawn. In round six Khan fought back from a poor position against Harold Saunders, and then showed his determination by grinding out a win in an unspectacular rook and bishop versus rook and knight endgame. At the end of the first week all the usual suspects were in contention, although Jackson’s good showing was certainly a surprise. The leading scores were: E.M.Jackson and Sultan Khan 4½, F.D.Yates 4 (with one unfinished game), T.H.Tylor 4, C.H.O’D.Alexander 3½.

Khan’s round 7 game provided more evidence to support Tinsley’s pretournament assessment of his play – but he got away with it. Sir George Thomas played the Ruy Lopez and Khan grabbed a hot pawn, putting himself under a massive attack. In a complicated situation, Thomas failed to pursue his initiative with sufficient vigour, and finally blundered a rook in time pressure. The round eight meeting between Sultan Khan and last year’s champion was generally thought to be the most important of the tournament. Khan was leading with 5½; Yates only had 4, but a victory for him would throw the contest open. Sultan Khan F.D.Yates British Championship, London (8) 23rd August 1932 1.♘f3 e6 2.c4 d5 3.g3 ♘f6 4.♗g2 ♗d6 5.♘c3 c6 6.b3 ♘bd7 7.0-0 0-0 8.d4 ♕e7 9.♘h4

In a fairly standard closed Catalan, Khan goes his own way. In such queen’s pawn fianchetto systems the knight’s move to the side was one of his favourite manoeuvres, usually played as a preface to advancing the f-pawn. In this case it’s a clumsy way of preventing Black from playing …e6-e5.

9…♗b4 10.♕c2 ♖e8 11.f4

The best response to this is simple development with 11…b6, followed by … ♗b7 or …♗a6 depending on White’s next move. However, Yates is obviously phased by the unorthodox strategy and plays too tamely. 11…♘f8

The knight has no purpose on this square and it gives Khan time to redeploy the knight back into the middle. 12.♘f3 b6 13.♘e5 ♗b7 14.♘a4

Comical. The other knight moves to the edge. Here the idea is to leave Black’s bishop hanging aimlessly on the queenside. 14…♘6d7 15.♗b2 ♖ac8 16.♘d3 ♗d6 17.e4 dxe4 18.♗xe4 ♘f6 19.♗f3 ♗b8 20.♕g2

Having prevented Black’s pawn breaks of …e6-e5 and …c6-c5, Khan has complete control over the position and makes no mistake in rolling through on the kingside. 20…♘g6 21.♖fe1 ♕d8 22.♖ad1 ♗d6 23.♘e5 ♕c7 24.h4 ♗f8 25.h5 ♘xe5 26.fxe5 ♘d7 27.♘c3 ♗a8 28.♖f1 ♗e7 29.g4 a6 30.g5 ♘f8 31.♘e4 c5 32.d5 ♕a7 33.♘f6+ ♗xf6 34.gxf6 ♘g6 35.hxg6 hxg6 36.d6 ♗xf3 37.♖xf3 1-0

‘… a poor exhibition for so fine a player’, lamented the British Chess Magazine of Yates’s play, and it is hard to disagree. He lost the next game too, effectively ending his challenge for first place. Since winning the British championship the previous year, his results, at Hastings, Cambridge and here, had been indifferent. Yates relied on his journalism to earn a daily crust, so he found himself in the position of reporting on the tournament while simultaneously playing in it, which must have been a handicap. His delicate constitution also didn’t help. The heat wave that lasted throughout the tournament must have sapped his stamina; on one day a temperature of 96.5 degrees Fahrenheit (almost 36 Celsius) was recorded in the playing room, which, though large and airy, was exposed to the sun.185 On the other hand, noise and heat apparently suited Sultan Khan. He maintained his lead by winning easily in the ninth round and drawing in the tenth. Before the last round the leading scores were Sultan Khan 8, C.H.O’D.Alexander 7.

In the final round Alexander won quickly, so the pressure was on Khan, particularly after he had played a poor opening and found himself a pawn down in an endgame. Sultan Khan W.A.Fairhurst British Championship, London (11) 27th August 1932

position after 27.♔g2-f2

The best policy is to start a blockade on the kingside with 27…h5, then slowly advance the queenside pawns. Instead Fairhurst went wrong immediately with 27…f6 28.exf6 gxf6 29.g4 ♔f7 30.♔e3 ♔e6 31.h4

and the threat to create a passed pawn on the kingside severely limited the activity of Black’s king. Fairhurst kept trying until move 77 and 9pm on the Friday evening, but Khan remained resolute and held the draw. Champion again.

In the Ladies Championship there was a triple tie for first between Agnes Stevenson, Edith Michell, and Alice Hooke on 8/11. Fatima was not that far behind on 6½ (fifth place). For a debut tournament, this was a tremendous result, and there was more to come from her.

Sultan Khan’s victory was not met with undiluted praise. The Illustrated London News chess correspondent thought he had been ‘… aided by a certain amount of good fortune. It is a curious fact that the Indian master seems to be able to induce mistakes by his opponents… Sultan Khan is a strong and accurate endgame player, but his opening and middlegame strategy, while not without a dour and forceful quality, seems to lack the imagination and polish which distinguishes the greater masters.’ The British Chess Magazine was more generous to Khan, calling his victory ‘well deserved’ and adding ‘success is nearly always favoured by luck.’ But they too went into the question of how he played: ‘His style of play did not please some critics, to whom he generally appears to be doing nothing! It is obvious, however, that wins are not gained by doing nothing; and Sultan has proved by his play in the highest company that his style is a paying one’. Alexander’s second place, confirming the promise that he’d shown in the Cambridge tournament, was welcomed more whole-heartedly by commentators: ‘He played dashing and adventurous chess’ (BCM) ‘… splendid chess of a bright and enterprising character.’ (Linlithgowshire Gazette) His openings, such as the Evans Gambit and the Vienna Gambit, were more familiar to amateurs than Sultan Khan’s improvisations.

CHAPTER 27

On Tour – Autumn 1932 ‘Local players were charmed with the distinguished visitor, whose quiet, unassuming manner soon put the lesser lights at their ease.’ – Western Morning News Sultan Khan was finding a run of good form after Bern in July and the British Championship in August, but in Britain there were no tournaments – this was the start of the league season. He had to be content with playing for club and county as well as giving simultaneous displays. On 24th September he gave an exhibition at the Swindon Mechanics Institute where he won twenty-five, drew two and lost one. On 25th October he repeated his simultaneous display at the Hampstead Chess Club from the previous year, winning twenty, drawing two and losing two. This was a fine achievement considering his opponents included many players from Hampstead’s strong London League team. Khan was also handicapped by a bad cold.186 Only a loss from this display survives, but it’s worth a look as it shows Sultan Khan at his most raw, playing without compromise. Sultan Khan G.M.Hodgson Simultaneous display, Hampstead Chess Club 25th October 1932 1.e4 c5 2.♘f3 ♘f6 3.e5 ♘d5 4.c4 ♘c7 5.♘c3 e6 6.d3 ♘c6 7.♗g5 ♗e7 8.h4 d5 9.exd6 ♕xd6 10.♘e4 ♕d7 11.♗e2 0-0 12.♕d2 f6 13.0-0-0

Absolutely brutal. We have seen in many games how Khan likes to castle on the opposite wing to his opponent, but this is taking matters to an extreme. He can’t be bothered to remove his bishop from attack and carries on regardless. What’s funny is that his opponent, also hell-bent on attacking, ignores it and begins his own assault on the other side of the board. 13…b5 14.♗f4 ♘d4 15.♘xd4 cxd4 16.♗f3 e5 17.♗h2 ♖b8 18.c5 ♗b7 19.b4 ♖fc8 20.g4 ♘e6 21.♔b1 a5 22.a3 axb4 23.axb4 ♗d5 24.♔b2

24…♗xc5

Black is unafraid to give a piece to maintain the initiative – and it is completely justified. If Khan were given time to stabilise his king position,

then push on the kingside again, the game would be wide open. This way the action turns decisively towards the queenside. 25.bxc5 b4 26.♖a1 ♘xc5 27.♘xc5 ♖xc5 28.♗e4 ♖c3 29.♖a5 ♖b3+ 30.♔a1 ♖a8 31.♖xa8+ ♗xa8

After a couple of inaccuracies from his opponent, Khan is back in with a chance. The correct move here is 32.♗xa8! ♔f8! 33.♕a2 ♖a3 34.♕xa3 bxa3 35.♗e4 ♕xg4 36.♗xe5 fxe5 37.♔a2 and Black has good winning chances, though it isn’t over. Naturally, when moving at simul pace such a line would be impossible to calculate accurately. Khan’s move is tempting, pinning and attacking the bishop, but Black’s reply is tidy and wins the queen on the next turn. 32.♕a2? ♗d5 33.g5 ♖a3 34.♕xa3 bxa3 35.gxf6 ♗xe4 36.dxe4 ♕c6 37.♖b1 gxf6 38.♗g3 d3 39.f4 ♕c3+ 40.♔a2 d2 0-1

In terms of aggression, Khan met his match in this game, though one can see how this approach would be successful in a simul – many amateurs would be intimidated and crumble. He probably didn’t feel like it, but the very next day Khan travelled to Plymouth where he gave an exhibition against thirty-three opponents, among them the Devon champion and other notables from the region. Strength and numbers matter in simultaneous exhibitions and playing more than thirty games is not an easy task, particularly if feeling unwell.

The local newspaper – the Western Morning News – reported in detail on the event and it provides a rare glimpse into Sultan Khan’s character: ‘Undoubtedly the visit of Mir Sultan Khan, the British champion, to the Plymouth Chess Club last week will rank as one of the chief events of the current season. Local players were charmed with the distinguished visitor, whose quiet, unassuming manner soon put the lesser lights at their ease.’ Play began at 7pm and did not finish until after midnight. The local newspaper noted that Khan played 1.e4 on most boards and the Evans Gambit whenever possible, which brought some swift victories: ‘His style differed materially from that adopted by Kostic, who, when he gave a display at the club some ten years ago, built up his positions and developed every piece as quickly as possible.’ How curious that we hear of Borislav Kostic again, years after his adventures in India. The chess world, even at that time, was a small place. Sultan Khan’s simultaneous technique had significantly improved since that first display three years ago in September 1929. By this stage he had changed his tournament repertoire away from 1.e4, concentrating on 1.d4 and 1.♘f3; but for the simultaneous display he reverted to 1.e4 and tricky gambit play to score a few quick wins. Naturally, when playing such double-edged openings there is the danger that the strategy can rebound – and that happened against one of the most experienced players. Sultan Khan Dr. C.L.Lander (president of the Plymouth Chess Club) Simultaneous display, Plymouth 26th October 1932 1.e4 e5 2.♘f3 ♘c6 3.♗c4 ♗c5 4.b4 ♗b6

If one is unfamiliar with the gambit, then this is a sensible method of declining without compromising the position. Over the next few moves Khan

does not play with a coherent strategy. 5.b5 ♘a5 6.♗e2 d6 7.d4

The position is rare, although Alekhine also played like this in a simultaneous display in 1933, his opponent answering with the passive 7…f6. 7…exd4 8.♘xd4 ♘e7 9.♗b2 ♘g6 10.0-0 ♘f4 11.g3 ♘xe2+ 12.♕xe2 0-0 13.♘f5 f6 14.♘d2 d5 15.♖ad1 ♕e8 16.♕g4

Khan’s pawn structure is ragged, and his piece activity doesn’t really make up for it. 16…♗xf5 17.exf5 ♕xb5 18.♘b3 ♖ae8 19.♖fe1 ♘c4 20.♖xe8 ♕xe8 21.♗c1 ♘e5 22.♕b4 ♕h5 23.♖xd5 ♘g4

… attacking f2 and h2, and Black broke through with ease. Near the end of a display, when there are just a handful of games remaining, play speeds up, and that is when the master comes in to his own – and the amateur can crack under pressure. Sultan Khan J.B.Goodman (Devon county champion) Simultaneous display, Plymouth 26th October 1932

position after 51…♗b2-c1

Instead of 1.e4, Khan had opened with one of his bizarre improvisations: 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 e6 3.g3 d5 4.♗g2 c5 5.0-0 ♘c6 6.e3?!, and somehow scraped through the middlegame into an equal endgame. This was where his determination paid off. 52.d5 exd5+?

52…♔xc5 is a simple draw. 53.♔xd5 ♗b2 54.♔d6 ♗d4 55.c6 ♗xe5+ 56.♔xe5 ♔xc6 57.♗xf7 1-0

Sultan Khan’s final score in the display was thirty wins, two draws and one loss – an excellent result. Returning to the start of the display, there was a touching incident. Khan was collared by the reporter from the newspaper, who learned from the champion

that this was his first visit to the West country: ‘I do not know how strong my opponents may be.’ The reporter informed him that, among others, he would be playing against a 13-year-old girl and Khan commented: ‘I think, perhaps, she will be a little nervous on an occasion like this. She may not play her best.’187 In our sensitive age, this might be taken as patronising, but I see it otherwise. Khan was removing any burden of expectation and it was a generous gesture. The girl was Rowena Dew, destined to win the British Ladies title on eleven occasions (under her married name of Rowena Bruce). She had brought along her chessboard for the occasion and asked Khan to sign the back of it before the start of play. Not only did Rowena Bruce enjoy a long and distinguished journey in the chess world, but so did this chessboard. Whenever she played against a master in a simultaneous display, she would ask them to sign the back of it. When she died in 1999, her chess effects were auctioned off and the board was bought by Terry Chapman – a successful businessman and strong amateur chess player. In 2001, Chapman arranged a challenge match with Garry Kasparov. At the end of the contest, Chapman presented Rowena’s board to him – which is still in the former World Champion’s possession.

The back of Rowena Bruce’s chessboard, signed by many chess greats.

In the centre, in the lower third of the board, Sultan Khan’s signature with the year 1932 underneath. From those times, the signatures of Capablanca, Alekhine, Euwe, Bogoljubow, Menchik, Winter, Thomas and Alexander are clearly visible, among others. Later Chapman and Kasparov collected a few more names: Kramnik, Karpov and Kortchnoi, for example; and in the top left-hand corner you will find the signature of Viswanathan Anand. The two Indian legends are united on this chessboard.188

PART V

The Endgame

CHAPTER 28

F.D.Yates: 1884-1932 A verdict of accidental death was recorded by the coroner. Fred Yates was discovered in his boarding-house room on Friday 12th November. There had been a gas leak and he had probably died in his sleep. With hindsight, there was an inevitability to his fate. He had last been seen on Wednesday night when a pupil had been visiting and, by his account, Yates was cheerful and in good spirits. On the Thursday, a maid could get no response to her knocking and had called up another employee to the room who declared at the inquest: ‘I thought I could hear him talking to himself, but he often did so, and we took no notice. The maid left the breakfast tray outside his door. We thought he was tired, and we left him. In the afternoon the tray was still there, but we were not alarmed, because he often slept late.’ On the next day Yates had still not appeared and there was a smell of gas. The door was forced open and he was found lying in bed. It transpired that a gas-pipe fitting had been disturbed by a table knocking into it, causing the leak. One wonders whether Yates would have survived with a more robust constitution; it was said that he had a constant hacking cough but could not afford to take time off to rest in warmer climes, as had been prescribed. Yates was poor. He had lived alone in the small upper room of the boarding house in Bloomsbury for the past seven years and struggled to pay the rent. The economic downturn of the early 1930s might well have affected his ability to earn a living from coaching and journalism, and recently he had been seen in the various clubs around London offering to play all-comers for a shilling stake. His pride had prevented him from asking for or accepting charity. William Winter wrote that, ‘Above all else he hated to be in the limelight and no doubt suffered in his chess career through his reluctance to push himself forward.’ Ultimately, his modesty had fatal consequences for him. It was a tragic end for one of Britain’s most distinguished chess players. Yates had won the

British championship on six occasions: 1913, 1914, 1921, 1926, 1928 and 1931. His victory over Alekhine in Carlsbad 1923 was a masterpiece, combining fine strategy, a powerful attack and a delicate study-like finish. A.Alekhine F.D.Yates Carlsbad (7), 6th May 1923

position after 46.♔h3-g3 46…♕d1!

Forcing the rook to an unfortunate square. If 47.♖g2 ♕e1+ and mate follows; likewise, 47.♖h2 ♕d3+. 47.♖c3 ♕g1+ 48.♔h3 ♕f1+ 49.♔g3 ♗f2+ 50.♔f3 ♗g1+ 51.♔g3 ♕f2+ 52.♔h3 ♕h2

Checkmate. Yates’s death sharpened the debate about amateurism and professionalism and occasioned much soul-searching among the British chess community. W.H.Watts, who posthumously published Yates’s games collection, urged ‘… the necessity of so organising chess in this country that its recognised champion would be sure of a fitting reward for the

application, the work and the skill he must have displayed to secure the title’, and railed against the lack of events to sustain professionals: ‘If Yates’s unfortunate and most regrettable end does at length rouse our chess authorities to a sense of their obligations then it will not have been all loss and Yates will not have lived in vain.’ Unfortunately, the class of people running the British Chess Federation – the clergy, the army officers, the politicians, the ennobled patricians – had sympathy but little understanding of the bohemian lifestyle of players such as Yates. Besides, given the economic and social climate, there were no easy remedies. Nevertheless, the Federation, with the assistance of Frederick Hamilton-Russell who donated £100, established a fund in Yates’s name to assist British chess professionals who fell on hard times.189 The debate over professional chess continues to this day. At the time of writing in 2019, apart from a handful of top professionals, there are very few English chess players who are able to make a living exclusively by playing; and while there are many talented juniors in England (as ever), most prefer to pursue a more traditional career path – of necessity. The final word on Yates goes to his close friend and colleague, William Winter:190 ‘He met with many disappointments and some injustices but, through it all, he never lost his cheerful outlook and his kindly feelings to all men. In all the years in which I was privileged to be his friend, I have never heard him speak harshly of anyone. He was a great chess player and a good man. Let that be his epitaph.’

Fred Yates.

CHAPTER 29

Hastings Congress 1932/1933 ‘Once again the foreign players have carried off the chief honours in the Hastings Tournament, and once again one is at a loss to point to any young British players who may be able to repel this annual invasion in the future.’ – London Evening News Yates’s death must have left a terrible gap in Sultan Khan’s life. They had been team-mates at the Imperial Chess Club and Yates had coached Khan when he had first arrived in London, and probably subsequently too. There were few people in England with whom Khan could discuss chess on a similar level of understanding; certainly not anyone that he would meet on a regular basis. Although Winter had coached Khan, I suspect that his political views did not find favour with Sir Umar. It’s notable that Winter wasn’t present at his soirées while the less outspoken Yates was. Temperamentally, Khan and Yates were similar: mild-mannered and polite, with a gentle sense of humour. There was nothing boastful about them. When discussing chess, they were objective. It must have been difficult for Khan to gather himself to play at Hastings after Christmas. The participants were made up of the usual home players and three foreign visitors: Salo Flohr, Vasja Pirc and Lajos Steiner, all in their twenties. Flohr was the favourite, but the others had already shown promise in events in continental Europe. Khan’s play in Hastings was, on the whole, too casual. In the first round he faced Flohr and showed signs of rustiness. He spent an hour on the first fourteen moves and was then outplayed in a long technical endgame – the Czechoslovakian’s forte. Round 2 was also not easy as Khan played Vasja Pirc. For some reason he decided to switch back to 1.e4 to take on the Yugoslav’s Sicilian Defence, but his inexperience told. Sultan Khan V.Pirc

Hastings Premier (2) 29th December 1932

position after 16…d5xe4

17.f5 is strong when Black’s king is in trouble. Instead, his next move allows Black to take control over important squares on the queenside, and the crisis is over. Soon after, Khan blunders. 17.c4 ♗c5 18.♘f5? ♗xe3+ 19.♘xe3 ♕b6 20.♖fd1 ♘c2 21.♕xc2 ♕xe3+ 22.♔h1 ♕xf4

… and the extra pawn eventually told. Khan had nothing to show from his first two games. His start was reminiscent of his play in Bern the previous July when he needed time to settle at the board. He won the next two games with ease against the local champion E.M.Mackenzie and then Vera Menchik, before hanging on grimly to draw with Steiner. Khan played his best game in round 6 against Hugh Alexander. Sultan Khan C.H.O’D.Alexander Hastings Premier (6) 3rd January 1933

1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 g6 3.g3 ♗g7 4.♗g2 0-0 5.0-0 d6 6.b3 ♘bd7 7.♗b2 e5 8.c4

In answer to Alexander’s King’s Indian, Khan has played a solid double fianchetto, a system that has maintained its respectability to this day. Uncharacteristically, Alexander reacts too passively.

8…♖b8 9.dxe5 ♘g4 10.♕c2 ♘dxe5 11.♘xe5 ♘xe5 12.♘c3 ♗e6 13.♖ad1 ♕d7

I am surprised that Khan didn’t play 14.c5 here to isolate the d-pawn. He could have played that on move 17 as well. Having said that, the game continuation is also powerful. 14.♘d5 f5 15.♗d4 ♘c6 16.♗c3

An excellent move, refusing to exchange on g7 which would cede control over the diagonal. 16…♔h8 17.♕b2 ♗xd5 18.cxd5 ♘b4

Surprising, and poor. He had to go for 18…♘e5 19.♖c1 f4 and although the c7-pawn is a permanent weakness, at least the knight is stable in the middle. 19.♖c1 ♘a6 20.b4 ♖fe8 21.e3 ♖bc8 22.♖c2 ♗xc3 23.♕xc3+ ♕g7 24.♕xg7+ ♔xg7 25.♖fc1 ♖e7 26.a3

The knight has been side-lined and Black has no counterplay. Khan can keep control and build up slowly but surely. The breakthrough might come on the kingside with g4 or e4; or perhaps on the queenside. 26…♔f6 27.♔f1 ♔e5 28.♔e2 ♔f6 29.♔d2 ♔e5 30.♖c4 ♔f6 31.♖1c3 b5

As is so often the case, the defender is unable to withstand the tension of the squeeze and lashes out impatiently. Alexander has spotted a trap, but he gets caught himself. He might have been hoping that White would play 32.♖d4, taking the pressure from c7, when the knight could return to the game via b8-

d7-b6 or b8-d7-e5. 32.♖c6 ♘b8 33.♖xd6+ ♔e5

Alexander probably thought that White would have to return the pawn with 34.♖e6+, but instead there is a mating net. 34.♖dc6 ♘xc6 35.♖xc6

Threatening 36.f4 checkmate. 35…f4 36.gxf4+ 1-0

If 36…♔f5 37.♗h3+, for example. If only Khan had shown such restraint and control in all his games. This was the perfect strategy against an adventurous player such as Alexander. In the seventh round Khan defeated Tylor in a trademark long endgame; and Thomas was his victim in round 8 after he had blundered a piece on the 18th move. A fine comeback. The leading scores before the final round were Flohr 6½; Pirc, Khan 5½. In the last game Khan faced R.P.Michell. They had played on no less than seven previous occasions – and Khan had won every single game. Sultan Khan R.P.Michell Hastings Premier (9) 6th January 1933 1.d4 d5 2.♘f3 ♘f6 3.g3 e6 4.♗g2 ♗e7 5.0-0 0-0 6.c4 b6 7.♘c3 ♗b7 8.cxd5 exd5 9.♗f4 a6 10.♖c1 ♘bd7 11.♘h4

One of Khan’s favourite manoeuvres – see Khan-Yates, British Championship 1932, for example. Black is unable to prevent the knight reaching f5 with 11…g6 because of 12.♗xc7, winning a pawn. 11…♖c8 12.♘f5 ♖e8 13.♕b3 ♘f8

The simplest way to play is 14.♘xe7+ ♕xe7 15.♗g5 and one or other of Black’s pawns will drop. 14.♗e5 c6 15.♗h3

15.♘xe7+ is still strong as 15…♕xe7 gives up the b-pawn; or 15…♖xe7 16.♗xf6 gxf6 fatally damages Black’s kingside. The same applies on the next turn too. 15…♘e6

This is the moment that Khan has to strike with 16.♘xe7+, and having squandered this opportunity his pieces fall back. 16.♖fd1? ♗f8

Now it is too late. 17.♘e3?

Another mistake. 17.♗xf6 ♕xf6 18.♕xb6 ♖b8 is messy but had to be played. Now the bishop on e5 gets into trouble. 17…♘d7 18.♕c2 f6 19.♗f5

Giving up a piece for the bishop, but it is nowhere near enough compensation. Over the next few moves Michell plays with admirable calm. 19…fxe5 20.♗xh7+ ♔h8 21.dxe5 ♘xe5 22.♗f5 ♕e7 23.♘g2 ♖cd8 24.♘h4 ♕f6 25.f4 ♘xf4

Very coolly done. If 26.gxf4 ♕xh4 27.fxe5 ♗c5+ 28.♔h1 ♗e3, followed by …c6-c5 and …d5-d4, targets the king in the corner. What a reverse in fortunes. 26.♖f1 g5 27.gxf4 gxh4 28.fxe5 ♕xe5

Michell returns the piece as he dominates the centre and can launch an attack. He finishes the game sweetly by opening the long diagonal for his lightsquared bishop to attack the king. 29.e4 d4 30.♕d1 ♕g7+ 31.♔h1 dxc3 32.♕e1 cxb2 33.♖b1 ♕h6 34.♖xb2 c5 35.♖g1 ♖d4 36.♖bg2 ♗g7 37.♖g4 ♖dxe4 38.♗xe4 ♖xe4 39.♖xe4 ♕f4 0-1

The 59-year-old veteran finished the game well but, considering the numerous missed opportunities earlier on in the game, this was one of the

worst performances that Sultan Khan had produced for a long time.

Salo Flohr had won for the second year in succession, without too much difficulty, and confirmed his status as one of, if not the most promising player of the younger generation. Above all, he was consistent. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Khan. He did not have enough guile or skill to hold the top two foreign players and after these defeats was always playing catch up. His result was typical of the home players as a whole. The congress had registered a record entry with over 120 participants in all sections, among them 50 from abroad; Hastings was becoming a highly popular destination for those coming from the continent. That was the good news. The bad news was that the continentals, not just in the top tournament, were winning all the prizes. ‘Once again the foreign players have carried off the chief honours in the Hastings Tournament, and once again one is at a loss to point to any young British players who may be able to repel this annual invasion in the future. Players who have served us well in the past are getting beyond the strain of serious tournament play, and the younger British players who figured in the two top tournaments at Hastings did not do very well. Sultan Khan, the British champion, of course, did well; but

he is not English by birth, which makes a difference.’ (London Evening News 9th January 1933) The last comment shows that Sultan Khan would never quite be ‘one of us’ – but when he performed well, he could be claimed for the Empire, not to mention the British Empire team.

CHAPTER 30

Moving Away ‘British India is ours and we must not lose it.’ – Viscount Rothermere The Third India Round Table Conference had taken place from 17th November-24th December 1932, but nothing of any importance came of it, largely because the Indian National Congress refused to attend. Even the British Labour Party boycotted proceedings, an indication that consensus over Indian policy was breaking down in Britain itself. The main recommendations of the three Round Table Conferences were put forward to Parliament by the Secretary of State for India, Sir Samuel Hoare, in the spring of 1933 and a draft bill formulated. The Government of India Act was long and bewilderingly complicated, taking more than two years to go through all the committee stages, and was only passed into law in the summer of 1935. The establishment of federal government was a cornerstone of the Act, but there was no significant grouping within India that accepted it, principally because there was always provision for the British to take back control whenever its interests were threatened. Jawaharlal Nehru, by then leader of the Indian National Congress, called the Act ‘a charter of slavery’. Mohammed Ali Jinnah of the Muslim League thought it ‘thoroughly rotten, fundamentally bad and totally unacceptable.’ The Princely States thought they were ceding too much power to a federal government’s authority. Back in Britain, there was a strong element in the establishment who also felt that too much had been given away to appease the ‘agitators’. Viscount Rothermere, the founder of the Daily Mail, thundered, ‘British India is ours and we must not lose it’, before going on to express admiration for the Nazi youth who were demanding the return of Germany’s previous overseas possessions.191 Meanwhile, Sir Umar’s extravagant London lifestyle was catching up with him. As well as pursuing his sporting interests such as dog-racing and falconry, not to mention supporting Sultan Khan in his tournament trips, the

household expenses were considerable. He maintained around eleven staff; and he loved to entertain, not just his chess friends, but political acquaintances and the Indian community in London. Not least, the rent on the house by Regent’s Park would have been a significant expense. Sir Umar’s London life was funded by the revenue from the Kalra estate in the Punjab, which, in his absence, was managed by his first wife, Fateh Khatun, and his son, Khizr. Khizr was much more financially prudent than his father, and when Sir Umar asked for funds to be released so that he could buy the Regent’s Park house, Khizr refused. Khizr even claimed that Sir Umar’s personal assistant, Ghulam Muhammed Khan, had embezzled money sent from India to London.192 Moving from the centre of London was the simplest way to cut costs, and in late autumn 1932 the household had relocated to Inverness Lodge, Alton Road, in Roehampton, a residential suburb of South-West London. It would be hard to find somewhere more genteel and bourgeois: tree-lined streets of houses with front gardens, a parish church, small shops, cafés, and golf courses. Living in the suburbs must have seemed very quiet compared to the centre of London; quiet, but very beautiful, with the expansive rolling landscape of Richmond Park a short walk away. In many ways, the location made perfect sense for Sir Umar. He could pursue his interest in polo at the nearby Roehampton and Hurlingham clubs; and Wimbledon dog track was also not far away. He was a short drive from the Woking Mosque to the south-west of London which had become one of the most important centres for Islam in England. Sir Umar had not just advocated for Muslim political rights in India, but had also proselytised for the religion in wider society in England, regularly attending festivals in Woking, and working towards establishing a mosque in central London.193 For all the practical advantages of living in Roehampton, it was a remove from the pulsing heart of the capital, and Sir Umar’s visits into central London must have been less frequent. There would also be fewer visitors passing through the house so that it was no longer the social hub that it used to be. The physical move away from the centre of political power reflected the decline in Sir Umar’s influence and political usefulness. With the end of the India Round Table Conferences, Sir Umar’s duties were considerably lightened, and he returned to India for a short stay in January and February

1933. The circus had left town. His trip to India was probably made in order to resolve questions over his finances, and it was a sign that his thoughts were turning away from London. Sultan Khan’s fortunes were inextricably linked with Sir Umar’s political career, and it was inevitable that his activities slowed down too. For the first six months of 1933 he played almost no chess at all. Being away from central London must have had a huge impact on his lifestyle: he could not easily drop in to the Imperial Chess Club in Mayfair; or the Empire and Social Chess Club in Bayswater. However, he did start playing for Kingston and Thames Valley Chess Club which was close by to Roehampton. One of his regular tournament opponents, Reginald Michell, was the strongest player in the club. Khan’s first match for Kingston was in December 1932, but curiously there is no record of him playing any games for them in the first half of 1933. It’s quite possible that he played matches in lesser leagues or in club competitions where the results didn’t make the pages of the newspapers or the British Chess Magazine. In an episode that signalled a fallow and frustrating period for Sultan Khan, in March 1933 he attempted to play for the Middlesex team in the county championship (as he had done over the last couple of years) but was ruled ineligible as he was now resident in Surrey. This was the beginning of the end for Khan and his stay in London.194

CHAPTER 31

Folkestone International Team Tournament 1933 ‘As an old-time cousin of your England we brought the cup over here and gave you a chance. You have had your chance, and we are now taking it back again.’ – Frank Marshall The ambition of the British Chess Federation and the generosity of the British chess community were admirable. As a consequence of the continuing economic difficulties following the crash of 1929, there was a danger that the popular International Team Tournament, last held in Prague in 1931, would disappear from the chess calendar altogether. Therefore, the BCF offered to organise and fund the competition, as well as the FIDÉ Congress, in the summer of 1933. Perhaps they felt a sense of ownership, or at the very least responsibility, as they had organised the first official team event in London in 1927 and Frederick Hamilton-Russell had donated the fine mahogany and gilt silver trophy.

The Hamilton-Russell Cup.

Nowadays one could not imagine such an undertaking without corporate sponsorship or the support of the state. In those days, the British Chess Federation coordinated fund-raising to the tune of £700, collected from many different institutions and individuals connected with the British chess scene, and the total cost came to almost £1000. In the end fifteen teams participated; unfortunately, Spain and Argentina scratched at the last minute, and Germany’s absence was ‘believed to be not unconnected with recent events in that country’.195 The holders, the United States, arrived with a strong team including Kashdan, Marshall and Fine, but they would have tough competition from central Europe. The British team was reckoned to be ‘a strong one on paper’: Khan, Thomas, Winter, Michell and Alexander.196 In spite of the optimism which often accompanies the host team, the British lost in the first round to Sweden by 2½-1½, setting the tone for their performance in the event.

This was Sultan Khan’s first tournament for over five months. After such long lay-offs, we have seen that he needed time to regain his competitive edge. In the first round he played Gideon Stahlberg, a member of the promising younger generation emerging onto the scene. They had drawn their two previous games in Hamburg and Prague, and after a close fight it appeared that this encounter would end in the same way. Sultan Khan G.Stahlberg Folkestone International Team Tournament (1) 12th June 1933

position after 49…h6xg5

So often Khan’s will to win – and survive – brought him extra points, but here he loses all sense of proportion. He could simply give up the bishop for Black’s remaining pawns to reach the theoretically drawn rook and knight against rook ending. Instead he played 50.♗c5?

… and within a few moves he was forced to resign as Black’s pawns marched on: 50…♘f6 51.♔c4 f3 52.d5 ♖c7 53.♖h8 ♘d7 54.♖g8+ ♔f6 0-1

His next game was against Salo Flohr – hardly an easy opponent. Since Khan

had beaten him at their first meeting in Prague 1931, the Czechoslovakian Grandmaster had gained the upper hand. Would Khan play cautiously after his first-round loss? Not his style. He tried the aggressive Stonewall system, as he had done in their encounter the year before in Bern. S.Flohr Sultan Khan Folkestone International Team Tournament (2) 13th June 1933 1.d4 d5 2.♘f3 c6 3.e3 ♘d7 4.c4 e6 5.♘bd2 f5 6.♗d3 ♕f6 7.♕c2 ♘h6 8.cxd5 exd5 9.0-0 ♗e7

Khan is forced to check his stride. He would like to play 9…♗d6, but that would be met 10.e4 dxe4 11.♗xe4 and taking the piece lands Black in trouble. 10.a3 a5 11.b3 0-0 12.♗b2 ♗d6 13.♕c3 ♖e8 14.b4 a4 15.b5 ♘f7 16.♖fc1 ♘b8 17.♕c2 g5

The knight’s retreat to b8 is clear proof that Black’s strategy has failed. How can the attack succeed with so many pieces stuck on the queenside? To his credit, Khan does not back down, continuing to hack away on the kingside in the hope that something will turn up – which it does. Flohr plays the next phase with insufficient vigour. Here, for example, he could have sacrificed a pawn with 18.♘e5 ♘xe5 19.dxe5 ♗xe5 20.♗xe5

♖xe5 21.♘f3 ♖e7 22.♖ab1. The kingside attack has disappeared and play switches to the queenside where Black is paralysed. 18.g3 ♗d7 19.♘b1 ♕g6 20.♘c3 ♕h5 21.bxc6 bxc6 22.♘d2 g4 23.♘xa4 ♖xa4!? 24.♕xa4 ♖e6 25.♕d1 ♘g5 26.♗f1 ♖h6 27.h4 ♘f3+ 28.♘xf3 gxf3 29.a4 ♕g4 30.♗g2 fxg2 31.♕xg4+ fxg4 32.a5 ♘a6…

Enterprising play from Khan, sacrificing the exchange just to distract White’s queen from the kingside. An unclear endgame has been reached which finally ended in a draw in 75 moves. In the third round, play was accompanied by the strains of a jazz dance from the room above, upsetting the two older members of the British team, Thomas and Michell, who both lost against their Icelandic opponents. Sultan Khan was undisturbed, however, smoothly outplaying Asgeirsson. Round four saw a poor performance from Khan – he played passively against Fairhurst (now representing Scotland) and only scraped a draw. In the fifth round Khan faced the World Champion – who had also had a shaky start, losing in the first round to Tartakower. It was speculated that Alekhine was tired after returning from an exhibition tour of the Far East. Khan played his tame opening system with pawns to d4 and c3 and a kingside fianchetto, but Alekhine could make no capital against it, and ran into time pressure. Sultan Khan A.Alekhine Folkestone International Team Tournament (5) 15th June 1933

position after 36…f5xe4

Here 37.♖f1! followed by doubling rooks puts pressure on Black. Instead Khan grabbed a pawn: 37.♘xc6 ♖xc6 38.♕xa4

… but in so doing he had given up the mighty knight and ceded the initiative to Black on the kingside: 38…♖c7 39.♖a1 ♖a7 40.♕d1 ♕f8 41.♖f2 gxf4 42.♖xf4 ♕g7 43.♖f2 ♗d6 44 ♖aa2 ♕g5 45.♕c1 ♖ag7 46.♖g2 h5 47.♗e1 h4…

Alekhine soon broke through. Khan put up one of his ‘never-say-die’ defences and held out till move 108, but the effort that he expended over several adjournment sessions had an adverse effect on his play. Against Tartakower in the next game he played uncharacteristically passively and was squashed. Khan recovered with draws against Kashdan and Apsenieks (Latvia) before the following game. Sultan Khan V.Soultanbeieff Folkestone International Team Tournament (9) 19th June 1933

position after 68…♖e4-e5

Victor Soultanbeieff recalls that he had approached Alekhine during the adjournment, asking him confidentially whether he thought he could draw. He received this disconcerting answer: ‘Not against Sultan Khan: he is a specialist in rook endgames!’ At the start of the endgame the position might well have been drawn but, by now, Khan had a couple of ways to win: 69.♖d6! threatens to push the pawn to f6, therefore 69…♔g7 70.e7 ♔f7 71.f6, followed by ♖d8, is the simplest. Or 69…♖xf5 70.♖d8+ ♔g7 71.e7 wins. Instead, he played the careless… 69.♖f7? g4!

After this White’s king is boxed in and cannot support the pawns. Khan tried but could make no further progress. 70.♔f2 ♖e4 71.♖f6 ♖e5 72.♖f7 ♖e4 73.♖a7 ♖e5 74.♖f7 ♖e4 75.♖f6 ♖e5 76.♖g6+ ♔h7 77.♖g5 ♔h6 78.♖g6+ ♔h7 79.♖f6 ♔g7 80.♖f7+ ♔g8 81.♔g2 ♖e2+ 82.♔f1 ♖e5 83.♔f2 ♖e4 ½-½

‘A hard-won draw gained by sustained attention and a good dose of patience: clock times: White, 3 hours 27 minutes. Black 4 hours 12 minutes’. (Soultanbeieff) Soultanbeieff relates that, for once, Khan lost his composure at the end of the game, nervously scrunching up his scoresheet and throwing it to the floor as

he departed the tournament hall. Nevertheless… ‘Aided by oriental philosophy, he consoled himself rapidly: late in the evening, I saw him without a care on a fairground carousel in the company of his fiancée, Mademoiselle Fatima who, during the entire length of the game, had remained at the side of the Grandmaster like a marble statue.’197 Intriguing. Soultanbeieff must have assumed by their behaviour that Khan and Fatima were a couple. They would have spent a great deal of time together in the household, particularly with Khan schooling her at chess. Having said that, in the socially conservative environment of the home, anything more than a good friendship would have been unlikely. In any case, the fact that she stood by his board shows, at the very least, enormous devotion and affection. Khan and Fatima’s close relationship is corroborated by an extraordinary vignette that Vladas Mikenas, the Lithuanian board 1, relates. ‘The young 27-year-old Indian with a white turban on his head came to the board accompanied by an extremely beautiful young woman. They sat down at the table side by side. She looked at me, smiled, and lowered the little Lithuanian flag, by which I understood her to mean that I was sure to lose. I ticked her off with my finger. At that moment Alekhine came up. He whispered something to Sultan Khan, and they both smiled. Play began. With his arms crossed in front of his chest and his intensive gaze fixed on the board, Sultan Khan sat motionless. The beautiful woman wrote down the moves. I confess I couldn’t play calmly – she had enchanted me. And yet just like Sultan Khan, she was only looking with lowered eyes at the chessboard.’198 It is remarkable that Fatima was allowed to sit right by the board; and was she actually recording his moves for him? Many have stated that Khan was illiterate, but by this stage he was, at the very least, used to writing his own signature (see Rowena Bruce’s chessboard) and, from early on in his time in

Europe, he had played in tournaments on his own, and therefore would have had to write down moves for himself. Perhaps Fatima was noting the moves for her own amusement and to maintain concentration. Alekhine’s involvement is also noteworthy: he is treating Khan as a colleague, though perhaps the World Champion wouldn’t have been so friendly if he had felt threatened by the Indian. In any case, Fatima’s presence didn’t seem to affect Mikenas in the long run: after a poor opening from Khan, the Lithuanian won convincingly. Sultan Khan lacked female companionship – certainly on the first visit to England in 1929 when Sir Umar was not accompanied by his full household. The chess scene was overwhelmingly male and developing any kind of independent social life cannot have been easy. In his memoirs, William Winter stated that he used to write letters on behalf of Khan to a girl that he had met in Hyde Park: ‘The lady seemed to like them’. Such moments when he was free from his overbearing master Sir Umar and the hierarchy of the household must have been a relief for Khan. The episode at the end of the game with Soultanbeieff is an indication of how much pressure he was under to perform. Khan wasn’t just playing for himself but for Sir Umar too. In his speech at the closing ceremony in Folkestone, Sir Umar repeated his claim that Indian chess was ‘more scientific than chess elsewhere’, with the implication that Indian players – specifically Sultan Khan – came from a more sophisticated intellectual culture. That is not easy to live up to.199 There is more than a ring of truth to Harry Golombek’s observation that Khan ‘… loved to play quick games but, strange to relate, match and tournament chess were a trial to him…’ – precisely because he felt the need to ‘justify himself to his patron’.200 Sultan Khan finished the event strongly by winning three of his last four games. The best of them was the following. Rosselli del Turco came from a noble family and was the leading player in Italy for many years. While not amongst Khan’s strongest opponents, he could still produce an upset: a few rounds before this game he had had Alekhine on the ropes. S.Rosselli del Turco Sultan Khan International Team Tournament, Folkestone (13)

21st June 1933 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 g6 3.♘c3 d5 4.e3 ♗g7 5.♕b3 c6 6.♘f3 0-0 7.♗d2 e6 8.♗d3 ♘bd7

It’s curious how Khan likes to play the same system with white and black. This is essentially the same opening that he played against Alekhine earlier in the competition (but in that case with white). Compare this with his games against Alexander from the British Championship 1932 and Bogoljubow and Bernstein in Bern 1932. This system has found several adherents in the top flight of chess. I watched Ljubojevic play it against Kasparov in Brussels 1987 – who gained no advantage from the opening and frustratedly offered an early draw. It’s best for White to hold the tension (as Kasparov did) with 9.0-0. 9.cxd5 exd5 10.0-0 ♖e8 11.♕c2 ♕e7 12.b4 ♘e4

Khan wastes no time in carrying out his favourite manoeuvre, planting the knight on the outpost. Making anything of the minority attack is difficult when Black is so active. 13.b5 ♘b6 14.bxc6 bxc6 15.a4 ♘d6 16.a5 ♘bc4 17.♘a4 ♖b8 18.♖fb1 ♖xb1+ 19.♕xb1 ♗g4

Black’s activity forces White to give up the light-squared bishop in order to prevent the kingside being damaged. 20.♗xc4 ♘xc4 21.♗b4 ♕c7 22.♘d2 ♗f5 23.♕c1 ♖b8 24.♗c5 ♘xd2 25.♕xd2 ♖b5

White had to give up a pawn with 26.♘c3 ♖xa5 and make the best of it. 26.♘b2 ♕b8 27.♗a3

27…♗f8!

The exchange of bishops allows Black’s pieces to invade. 28.♘d1 ♗xa3 29.♖xa3 ♖b1 30.h3 ♕b5 31.♔h2 ♕f1 0-1

If 32.♘c3 ♕h1+ 33.♔g3 ♖g1, breaking through to the king. Khan

coordinated his forces beautifully throughout the game. In a nervy final round, Czechoslovakia defeated the USA by 2½-1½, but it wasn’t a large enough margin to change the destination of the gold medals. The final placings were: USA 43, Czechoslovakia 41½, Poland, Sweden, Hungary 38, Austria 37½… etc. The British Chess Federation team scored 31 points and finished in 10th place – a mediocre performance in the bottom half of the table. The event ended with the predictable grand banquet, grand ceremony, abundance of grand speeches and a particularly dire kind of Eurovision Song Contest: the local orchestra stumbled through every single national anthem of the teams present – apart from Lithuania whose anthem could not be located; they were compensated with a hearty round of applause. When presented with the winner’s trophy, Frank Marshall was accorded a tremendous reception and with refreshing New World feistiness exclaimed, ‘As an old-time cousin of your England we brought the cup over here and gave you a chance. You have had your chance, and we are now taking it back again’ – which was greeted with laughter and more applause.201 The Hamilton-Russell trophy has still never returned to these shores. Predictably, the British team’s poor showing prompted unfavourable comment. An anonymous letter to the British Chess Magazine summed up the feeling of frustration: Sir, It will be generally admitted that the display of the British C.F. Team in the recent tourney at Folkestone was disappointing. On board 1 Sultan Khan stood up to the heavy artillery fairly well (though not in his best vein), but the older members of the team played bookish and unenterprising chess – fatal against Continental and American experts. […] The example of Alexander was the sole bright spot, and this seems to point a moral. I suggest that our annual championship be made more accessible to younger players. A glance around the Team Tourney players revealed an astonishing preponderance of youth, and if we are to maintain our

true place in the chess-playing world we must give all assistance possible to our youthful talent. This is not, I feel, being done, though it is true we are moving in this direction. May I conclude by congratulating our chess authorities for giving us such a feast of chess at Folkestone? – Yours etc. A SUBSCRIBER July 3rd 1933 Looking at the individual scores of the team, the correspondent makes a good point: Khan 7/14, Thomas 4/11, Winter 7½/11, R.P.Michell 2½/9, Alexander 7/11. Thomas turned 52 years old during the event. Michell was 60. It was the younger players in the team that pulled them through: Khan was 27 or 28 years old; Winter was 35; Alexander 24. The ages of the American team (in board order): Kashdan 27, Marshall 54, Fine 18, Dake 23, and Simonson 18. In fact, Frank Marshall was not the weak link in the team, scoring a superb 7/10 on board 2 – he was strong at any age! Reuben Fine relates that, after the tournament, the American team was invited to Sir Umar’s house: ‘When we were ushered in we were greeted by the maharajah with the remark, “It is an honour for you to be here; ordinarily I converse only with my greyhounds.” Although he was a Mohammedan, the maharajah had been granted special permission to drink intoxicating beverages, and he made liberal use of this dispensation. He presented us with a four-page printed biography telling of his life and exploits; so far as we could see his greatest achievement was to have been born a maharajah. In the meantime Sultan Khan, who was our real entree to his presence, was treated as a servant by the maharajah (which, in fact, he was according to Indian law), and we found ourselves in the peculiar position of being waited on at table by a chess grand master.’202 Reuben Fine had a reputation for embellishing stories, but the details convince: ‘ordinarily I converse only with my greyhounds’ rings true as we

know dog-racing was one of Sir Umar’s great passions, and it also hints at how he was bereft of company out in Roehampton. We also know that he was not afraid of a drink. Even handing out biographical notes fits his character. In 1929 he had published a book: Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan Tiwana – the Man and His Word, an 845-page collection of his speeches and utterances. It sounds as though the Americans got off lightly. As for Sultan Khan being treated like a servant by Sir Umar – certainly. That was the exact nature of their relationship.

CHAPTER 32

British Championship, Hastings 1933 ‘You hear all sorts of things about India, but 95 per cent of Indians are entirely loyal, and the majority of the other five per cent are either wrongly educated, or are unemployed.’ – Sir Umar Hayat Khan Hastings Chess Club offered to host the British Championship and the British Ladies Championship in their club rooms – all the usual subsidiary events had taken place at Folkestone concurrently with the International Team Tournament. The British Chess Federation selectors had responded to criticism that younger players needed to be encouraged and invited some new faces. Nevertheless, this was a weaker field than in previous years. Sultan Khan romped through the first four rounds, disposing of three of his younger rivals, Golombek, Alexander and Abrahams, in the process. The round 2 game against Alexander, who had run him close in the championship the previous year, was the most tense. Khan made an early raid with his queen to grab a pawn, inviting a counter-attack, and after one and a half hours only seven moves had been played. After mass exchanges, the players settled into this endgame: Sultan Khan C.H.O’D.Alexander British Championship, Hastings (2) 1st August 1933

position after 32…♔g8-g7

Looks drawish, but Khan starts a masterful squeeze, first cramping Black’s pawns and king, and then moving in to attack e7. 33.g4 g5 34.♔b5 ♔f6 35.♗d4+ ♔g6 36.♔c6

Alexander is confronted with Sultan Khan’s move 36.♔c6.

36…♖d8 37.♗c5 ♔f6 38.h3 h6 39.♗b4 ♖b8 40.♖b7 ♖xb7 41.♔xb7 ♔e5 42.♔c6 f5 43.♗c3+ ♔e4 44.gxf5 ♔xf5 45.♔d7

At this point my computer indicates a study-like draw by 45…g4 46.hxg4+ ♔xg4 47.♔e8 e6!! 48.dxe6 ♗c5 and the h-pawn provides enough counterplay. I am only giving this for completeness, and for its beauty. The fact that Black has a miracle save here should not diminish Khan’s excellent performance in this endgame. 45…♔e4 46.♔e8 ♔xd5 47.♔xf8 1-0

White’s king runs around to pick up the g- and h-pawns. Meanwhile, there had been a sensation in the Ladies’ Championship. In the very first round the reigning champion, Edith Michell, was defeated by Fatima. A photograph in the local paper of the two players is telling: Michell, sixty-one years old, wearing a hat and peering over her glasses, against a lean girl forty years her junior. The next generation was taking over. In round five Sultan Khan lost against his bête noire, William Winter. W.Winter Sultan Khan British Championship, Hastings (5) 4th August 1933

position after 33.♖g1-e1

Every picture tells a story. What beautiful centralisation. Khan prevented White’s rook moving to the seventh: 33…♖f7 34.♗xa7 ♖h8 35.♖e5

… but the direct attack on the king was decisive. Not for the first time, Khan had struggled with the Nimzo-Indian, an opening system that often requires precision, particularly when facing a wellprepared player such as Winter. Winter was unlucky. Here’s how he relates events in his memoirs: ‘For once I seemed to be in my best form, and when I beat Sultan Khan and Thomas in successive rounds I was feeling very much on top of the world. After the last of these games I turned in to my favourite pub for a drink. “Sorry, sir, but I can’t serve you” said the barman. “What do you mean?” I replied indignantly, “I haven’t had a drink all day.” “No sir, it’s not that, but look at yourself in the glass!” I turned and looked. My face resembled nothing so much as a decayed Christmas pudding. I had developed chicken pox.’ He was forced to withdraw from the tournament after six rounds, defaulting the rest of his games. At that point the leading scores were: Khan, Tylor 5,

Winter, Alexander 4½. Over in the Ladies’ tournament, after six rounds Fatima had 5½ points and Amy Wheelwright – Ladies co-champion in 1931 – 5 points. They met in round 7: Miss Fatima Mrs A.Wheelwright British Ladies Championship, Hastings (7) 7th August 1933 1.d4 ♘f6 2.c4 g6 3.♘f3 ♗g7 4.♗f4 d6 5.e3 0-0 6.h3 ♘h5 7.♗h2 f5 8.♗d3 ♘c6 9.♘c3 ♘f6 10.a3 e6 11.♖c1 ♕e7 12.0-0 e5 13.dxe5 dxe5 14.♗e2 ♔h8 15.♘d5

With this White takes the initiative. The bishop, cannily tucked away on h2, plays an important role in dismantling Black’s position. 15…♘xd5 16.cxd5 ♘d8 17.b4 ♕d6 18.♕b3 ♗d7

A blunder, but Black’s position is under massive strain. 19.♕c3 f4 20.♕xc7 ♕xd5 21.♖fd1 ♕a2 22.♖xd7

… and Black collapsed. Fatima’s system worked perfectly. In the ninth round she dispatched her other main rival, Agnes Stevenson, to clinch the title:

Miss Fatima Mrs A.Stevenson British Ladies Championship, Hastings (9) 9th August 1933

position after 32…♕g8-d8 33.♕d6+ ♕xd6 34.exd6+ ♔d7 35.♗c4 b5 36.♗b3 ♔e8 37.♔b2 ♔f7 38.♔c3 ♔f6 39.♔d4 ♗d7 40.♗d1 ♗e8 41.h4

41…♗f7

Black is in Zugzwang. If 41…♔g7 42.♔e5 ♗d7 43.♗h5 ♔f8 44.♔f6 ♗c8 45.♗f7, etc. Or 41…♗d7 42.♗h5 ♗c8 43.♗e8 ♗b7 44.♗d7. 42.d7 ♔e7 43.♔e5 ♔xd7 44.♔f6 ♗e8 45.♗b3 ♔c7 46.♗xe6 1-0

For someone who had only learned the rules of chess two years previously, this is an unusually sophisticated finish. Meanwhile, Sultan Khan was also on blistering form, conceding just a half point to Theodore Tylor who managed to keep pace with him, so that before the last round the scores were Khan 8½, Tylor 8. Predictably, Sir Umar and his entourage arrived to witness what they hoped would be the final victory of their protégé. To add to the weight of expectation, Tylor won his game quickly, defeating Golombek. Khan had to win to secure undivided first place. Sultan Khan F.N.Jameson British Championship, Hastings (11) 11th August 1933 1.d4 ♘f6 2.♘f3 e6 3.e3 d5 4.♘bd2 ♗e7 5.♗d3 0-0 6.♘e5 ♘bd7 7.f4

For this crucial last round game, Khan falls back on a system he knows well: the Colle/Stonewall. 7…c5 8.c3 cxd4 9.exd4 a6 10.a4 ♖e8 11.0-0 ♘f8 12.♖f3 ♘6d7 13.♖g3 f5

14.♘df3 ♗h4 15.♖h3 ♗f6 16.♖g3 ♗h4 17.♘xh4 ♕xh4 18.♗d2 ♕e7 19.♖e3 ♘f6 20.♗e1 ♕c7

The opening has gone well: exchanging off the dark-squared bishop was positionally advantageous for White. Here 21.♗h4 maintains the pressure and there is every chance of breaking through on the kingside. Instead Khan shifts his queen to the other side of the board and establishes a bind, but allows his opponent back into the game. 21.h3 ♘8d7 22.♕b3 ♕b6 23.♕a3 ♘e4 24.a5 ♕d6 25.g4 ♘df6 26.♗e2 ♕xa3 27.♖xa3 ♘d6 28.♖b3

White still has a positional advantage, but after 28…♘d7 it isn’t easy to crack Black’s position. Instead, in what looks like time pressure, Jameson hangs a piece: 28…♗d7? 29.g5 ♘fe4 30.♘xd7 1-0

203

Sultan Khan’s third British Championship title, and a convincing victory by any standards. Folkestone had been a good warm-up event. It’s a moot point whether Winter’s continuing presence in the tournament would have changed the result. All we can say is that Khan, despite the loss, was leading Winter by a half point and he continued his excellent form until the end of the tournament.

Dropping just a half point was a truly sensational result for Fatima, and a dramatic climb from the 6½ points she had scored the previous year, this

despite having played in just a few club games – and no other tournaments. She had received tuition, mostly from Dr Basalvi at home, and some from Sultan Khan, but ‘Only a little. He is too strong a player’. Vera Menchik had also given her lessons. Fatima said she played chess because she liked it, ‘Even better than dancing’.204 The closing ceremony was a victory parade for the Indian players, the household and at the very head, Sir Umar. The local newspaper described the scene: ‘Sir Umar Khan, in a white turban, Lady Umar, Miss Fatima, and other Indian visitors in rich-coloured robes, brought a touch of Oriental splendour to the sober club room last evening, when the Mayor (Councillor H.Burden) and the mayoress (Miss Phyliss Burden) distributed the awards. Miss Fatima was a radiant figure in a robe and veil of bright red, bound to her dusky hair with golden bands. The Mayor said his prediction that the tournaments would be eminently successful had come true. “We all feel delighted that both champions have been subjects of India,” he said, “for this is a national event, and we are proud to number the subjects of India as members of the Empire.” Sir Umar Khan, speaking on behalf of the two champions, said he started chess early in life, and was so keen that he organised the whole of India into a chess federation. He expressed gratitude for the Mayor’s kind reference to India. “We are all very faithful subjects,” he said, amid applause. “I think the Great War showed this. You hear all sorts of things about India, but 95 per cent of Indians are entirely loyal, and the majority of the other five per cent are either wrongly educated, or are unemployed.”’ (The Hastings & St Leonards Observer) Then, in the midst of the celebration, Sir Umar dropped a bombshell: it was more than probable that he would be going back to India next year, and that Sultan Khan and Miss Fatima would go too.205

CHAPTER 33

The Long Goodbye – Autumn 1933 ‘I am tubercular, I cannot stand the climate, and I must get back to India where it’s warmer, otherwise I shan’t live very long.’ – Sultan Khan Sir Umar’s official duties in London were winding up and in the summer he had announced that he, and therefore the whole household, would be leaving. Sultan Khan and Fatima would be returning to India and in effect abandoning their chess careers. For Sultan Khan it was a relief. He was depressed and homesick. Apart from a brief visit back to India at the start of 1930, he had been away from home for over four years, and it was time to get on with the next phase of his life. By now he was twenty-eight years old and he wanted to start a family.206 He might also have been imagining a similar fate to his close colleague Fred Yates. With good reason he was fearful of staying in England. ‘I am tubercular, I cannot stand the climate, and I must get back to India where it’s warmer, otherwise I shan’t live very long,’ he is reported to have said.207 Although comfortably surrounded by other Punjabis within the household, after a while it must also have been a stifling environment. The linguistic and cultural differences were too great for him to explore an independent life in wider society, apart from in the chess community, and even that was increasingly fraught for him. Playing chess was perhaps the only part of his life where Khan could fully express himself. At the chessboard he was free to make his own decisions, to choose his own path, to forge his own destiny. Yet that freedom was burdened by the expectations of his master, Sir Umar. When Khan was unsuccessful at the board, he would incur his disappointment; when successful, the bar of expectation would rise and there would be greater pressure on him to perform well. Every chess player understands that pressure is a part of the game, but usually it is self-imposed. In this case Sultan Khan wasn’t just playing for himself, but for the person to whom he owed his entire career: supporting him in the household, funding coaching

and bringing him to Europe. He was under an obligation to succeed – otherwise Sir Umar’s patronage over the past years would be in vain. Imagine playing a crucial game with the eyes of your master and entourage watching every move? More than that, Khan was a champion for the Empire, a model example of how British values could produce opportunity and success for a subject of the Raj, even one from a humble background. He was introduced into society by Sir John Simon, one of the most prominent cabinet members in government, and lauded by officials from the British Chess Federation. Sultan Khan’s successes ‘strengthened the bonds of Empire’, a phrase often repeated at closing ceremonies, in newspaper columns, and no doubt communicated personally too. At the very least Sultan Khan must have felt conflicted: grateful for the opportunities to practise his talent at the highest level; but sometimes resentful at having to perform for his masters. Given all this, it is remarkable how well he played, and it is perhaps understandable if there were occasional disasters. Fatima obviously felt differently. She had had a taste of fame and attention and enjoyed it. The world she entered must have been very different from her life in the household, performing menial duties. A TV documentary made in 1990 entitled ‘The Sultan of Chess’ tracked her down in Pakistan, at the age of 78, spirited and independent-minded – in fact, rather different from the demure servant portrayed in newspaper reports of the time. The cheekiness shown by her towards Mikenas (see Folkestone 1933) seems quite typical of her character. No doubt through Sir Umar’s royal connection, Fatima was introduced to Queen Mary (King George V’s wife) and was asked to teach her the rules of chess: ‘I told the Queen: “You can’t learn quickly, it’s a long process”. She said, “At least show me how you start”. “These are the soldiers”, I explained, “and these are the King and Queen”. She said, “It’s too difficult… it’s beyond me and it’s giving me a headache!”’ Winston Churchill had wanted to play against her, and she recalled that:

‘He wasn’t very good, so I didn’t like playing him. But to keep him happy, I said, “Okay, let’s play”. They brought the board and set out the pieces. We started. I said, “I’ll let you win”. “No, I don’t want to win like that”, he said, “play as hard as you can”. “If I do, I’ll beat you in 2 or 3 moves and you’ll have to resign.”’ For a 21-year-old girl who had grown up in purdah, this was forthright language. The attention she received wasn’t just for her intellectual ability. One report described her as having, ‘… faultless features and dressed in Eastern style with exquisite taste…’208 No wonder she enjoyed her time as champion, attracting favourable attention and gaining some independence from the household. In the TV interview, she said, ‘Sultan was happy to return. He felt he was being freed from jail. He wanted to get back to his family… I said, “Don’t go, let’s stay for a bit.” He would plead with me to go, saying, “We’ll return”.’ In the end, both of them had very little say in the decision to leave. Acting independently would have been impossible. Sir Umar wanted to show off his champions for one last time before they departed, and through the Imperial Chess Club, and its president Mrs Rawson, a simultaneous exhibition was organised on Armistice Day, 11th November, where both Sultan Khan and Fatima played. Proceeds went to a cause close to Sir Umar’s heart, the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Help Society. Khan played 26 opponents, winning 21 and drawing 5; Fatima played 10, winning 6 and losing 4. Considering that this was her first ever simultaneous exhibition, a decent result, particularly as she faced ‘several good players’.209 Earlier in the Autumn, Sultan Khan had played a couple of county matches for Surrey, defeating William Fairhurst (v. Lancashire) on 14th October; then on 28th October, in a Surrey versus Middlesex match played out over 100 boards, he faced, for the final time, his old rival, William Winter. The

Middlesex champion, C.A.S.Damant, had relinquished the first board especially so that Winter could play Khan: considering their overall record, and his most recent win in the British Championship in the summer, Winter was no doubt confident of getting a result.210 Sultan Khan W.Winter County match, Surrey-Middlesex 28th October 1933 1.♘f3 ♘f6 2.d4 d5 3.c4 e6 4.♘c3 c5 5.cxd5 ♘xd5 6.e4 ♘xc3 7.bxc3 cxd4 8.cxd4 ♘c6 9.♗e2 ♗b4+ 10.♗d2 ♕a5

Winter has done his homework. I am sure that he knew of the game FlohrEuwe, Carlsbad 1932, which had continued 11.♗xb4 ♕xb4+ 12.♕d2 ♕xd2+ 13.♔xd2 ♔e7 and Black was very comfortable. Khan improves on White’s play. 11.♖b1 ♗xd2+ 12.♕xd2 ♕xd2+ 13.♔xd2 0-0

If Black had played 13…♔e7, they would have reached the same position as Flohr-Euwe with White a tempo up – the inclusion of the rook move to b1 makes a huge difference, as was proved years later: 14.♖hc1 ♖d8 15.♔e3 ♘a5 16.♘e5 f6 17.♖c7+ ♔f8 18.♘d3, with a marked advantage, Kortchnoi-Franco Ocampos, Las Palmas 1991. 14.♖hc1 ♖d8 15.♔e3 ♘a5 16.♖c7 ♖d7 17.♖c3 b6 18.♘e5 ♖e7 19.♖bc1

♗b7 20.♖c7 ♖xc7 21.♖xc7

Khan has won the strategic battle. Winter has a tough choice: defend passively with 21…♖f8; push the knight with 21…f6 but expose the seventh rank; or play for activity. He chooses the latter, though in fact none of them would have solved Black’s problems. 21…♖c8 22.♖xf7 ♖c3+ 23.♔d2 ♖a3 24.♖d7 ♖xa2+ 25.♔e3 g5 26.♗d3 ♖a3 27.♔e2 ♖a2+ 28.♔f3 h5 29.d5 exd5 30.exd5 ♖a3 31.♔e2 ♖a2+ 32.♔e3 ♖a3 33.d6 ♘c6 34.♘c4 1-0

Sultan Khan played the entire game with force and technical precision. His opening was quite different from the cautious fianchetto systems he had employed earlier in the year: this was straightforward classical chess, seizing the centre, and developing speedily. He was even able to improve on Flohr’s play from a previous encounter – though I suspect this was improvisation at the board rather than home preparation. He was playing at his best, and showed how far he had come since those first games in England.211 William Winter had so often been his nemesis, right from their early games at the Gambit tournament in 1929, and even in the final British Championship in 1933, but this convincing victory was the final word in their rivalry. For the arc of Sultan Khan’s story, this would be the perfect place to leave his chess career in Europe, but he played a little more. On 23rd November he gave a simultaneous display against the strong Oxford University chess club, winning 11, drawing 2, and losing one; and then two

days later he played a club match for the Imperial Chess Club against Cambridge University where he lost against J.M.Craddock, a former British junior champion. This, I believe, was Sultan Khan’s last competitive game in England, and he was defeated so badly that I find it painful even to show a snapshot from it. Sultan Khan J.M.Craddock Imperial Chess Club v. Cambridge University 25th November 1933

position after 27…♗e6-c4

The queen is trapped. I don’t think I am reading too much into this miserable performance to say that Khan had simply lost the patience and desire to play properly.212 Khan had originally accepted an invitation to play in the Hastings tournament after Christmas, but he withdrew ‘owing to his early departure for India’. There is a melancholy photograph in The Times of India showing him leaving London. Sultan Khan stares blankly into the camera while Sir Umar proudly rests his hand on his shoulder. The master-servant relationship could not be clearer, although it also shows the regard which Sir Umar still had for

his player. Fatima stands by the side of Sultan Khan dressed in smart western clothes, giving a farewell salute to Sir Umar. On 29th December 1933 Sultan Khan, along with Fatima, Lady Umar Hayat Khan and four other members of the household, boarded the P&O steamship the Moldavia at Tilbury docks for the three-week journey to Bombay. Sir Umar did not join the rest of the party on the voyage: he intended to stay on longer to continue his remaining duties for the Council of India. However, on 12th January, fitting his bold nature, he flew back to India. He had contracted fibrositis while fighting in Flanders and the cold weather had exacerbated his condition. He was granted six months’ sick leave – but in the end he never resumed his role in London.

CHAPTER 34

Back Home ‘In the village, for him, life was a matter of constant intellectual loneliness.’ – Ather Khan The Moldavia docked in Bombay on Thursday evening 18th January 1934. Sultan Khan did not, however, immediately return to the Punjab. Three days later, on 21st January in the Library Hall of Bombay’s Royal Institute of Science, he gave a simultaneous display against 37 people. A large crowd had assembled to witness the return of the conquering hero, and many had to be turned away due to limited space. ‘An excellent spirit prevailed and the Champion good-humouredly allowed his opponents a great deal of latitude in the way of gratuitous advice from the spectators and a non-observance of the “touch and move” rule.’ (The Times of India)213 Khan won 31, drew one and lost 5. Sultan Khan’s successes abroad had generated enormous enthusiasm back home in India and many were keen to see him in action. Sangli Chess Society set up a tournament to find a challenger for a match against Khan. V.K.Khadilkar shared first with V.D.Alurkar; Alurkar was selected to play but declined, so Khadilkar was put forward. The story had come full circle. Khadilkar, the first Indian to compete in the British Championship in 1924, against his successor; the old rivals from the All-India Championship in 1928. The match took place in Sangli between 6-15th February 1935, just over a year after Sultan Khan had returned from London. The first game was played on the day that Khan arrived from the Punjab – a journey south of over 1000 miles. He had asked for a postponement as he was so tired, but the organisers insisted it went ahead as the schedule was tight (one game a day for ten

days). Mind you, Khadilkar was also not in the best shape: he was already 53 years old and so poor that he could not afford the two-mile tonga ride (horsedrawn taxi) from his home to the venue each day, walking instead. To add to that, his son was ill with typhoid. All things considered, this feels like a match that should not have taken place.214 In the first game Khan had a winning endgame, but, perhaps through tiredness, could not finish it off: draw. After that it was a rout. Sultan Khan won the remaining nine games, completely out-classing Khadilkar. Khan played straightforward, classical openings with white – d4 and c4 for example – shunning the kind of experiments that were occasionally seen even in the latter stages of his career. He played sound and sensible chess, picking off pawns and converting smoothly; but some games were more direct. Sultan Khan V.K.Khadilkar Match, Sangli (2) 7th February 1934

position after 24…♕d8-c7

The queen has just moved from c2 to d1, and in the most blunt way, Khan mechanically sets up a battery on the b1-h7 diagonal:

25.♗b1 ♗c8 26.♕c2 ♗d7 27.♗c1 a4 28.♗b2 axb3 29.♕d3

Having manoeuvred the bishop to b2, White can move the knight from e5, then play ♗xf6 and mate follows with ♕h7+. Khadilkar gives up a bishop to no great purpose and the game is over: 29…♗e6 30.dxe6 ♖xe6 31.♘g4 ♗xf4 32.♘xf6+ 1-0

Game 7 shows how Khan wasn’t pushed too hard. He had to make sensible moves, maintain coordination, and the blunders came from his opponent. V.K.Khadilkar Sultan Khan Match, Sangli (7) 12th February 1934

position after 17…♕d7-e7

Khadilkar had opened with 1.f4 and a fairly standard reversed Dutch had resulted in this position. Khan has just played the queen to attack the e3pawn. 18.♗f3 would coordinate White’s pieces and gives sufficient compensation for the pawn after 18…♕xe3+ 19.♕xe3 ♖xe3 20.d5. Instead… 18.♖f3 b6 19.♖bf1 ♗e6 20.♗c1 ♖ad8 21.♕a4 ♕c7 22.h4

Compare White’s contorted forces with Black’s beautifully centralised army. The kingside offensive merely creates weaknesses on the kingside. Khan takes control by fixing the pawns in the middle. 22…c5 23.d5 ♗d7 24.♕d1 ♖e4 25.♖h3 ♕d6

A ‘half move’, blockading and cutting out counterplay, but 25…f4 was direct and strong. Khan probably rejected this because of 26.d6 ♕c6 27.♗f3, but the complications end in Black’s favour.215 26.♗d3 ♖g4 27.h5 ♖e8 28.♕f3 ♕e7 29.hxg6 hxg6 30.♖g3 ♗e5 31.♖h3 ♔g7

32.e4?

Cracking completely. 32.♔f2, threatening to double rooks, would have been consistent. Black should be better after 32…f4, but it is messy. 32…fxe4 33.♗h6+ ♔g8 34.♗xe4 ♖xe4,

winning a piece and shortly after the game. The crushing match result confirmed how much Sultan Khan had progressed during his time in Europe. There really wasn’t much point in him playing any serious chess in India, he was way ahead of the opposition. He retreated to the Punjab and resumed normal life, as if the years spent in London had been just an aberration. After his retreat, the myths began: that he was still playing some chess; how he intended a comeback; and the other extreme, that he wanted nothing more to do with the game and refused to teach chess to his children. The reality was milder. He married and had children – but not with Fatima (see Folkestone 1933 chapter). His eldest son, Ather Khan, recalled that, ‘He didn’t coach me in a regular manner to make me a good player, because he always thought it is better to do something more useful in life than playing chess; and he used to say if you have something in you, some talent, then you should use it in a more productive field, and you should concentrate on studies.’216

Ather describes how sometimes in the evening after dinner, his father, lying on his bed on the roof top of their single-storey house, smoking a hookah pipe, would play a blindfold game, calling out moves to him and his younger brothers down below in the courtyard. It sounds far more relaxed than the rumours would have it. Although Sultan Khan was glad to escape from his life in London, it must also have been difficult for him to adjust back to a simple life. His experiences in Europe set him apart from the rest of the villagers. He had learned about different cultures, mixed with a remarkable range of people, experienced different attitudes to life, and performed a skill to the highest level. Who could relate to him? With poignance, Ather Khan recounts that his father did his best to mix with others, listening and trying to contribute to conversations, but, ‘In the village for him life was a matter of constant intellectual loneliness… he never had any communications at his level with anybody, so he was short of company in that way’. Sultan Khan was tempted to play a little chess again: it’s quite understandable that he still enjoyed the challenge, not to mention the adulation of the public. In 1940 at Dera Ismail Khan, about 100 miles from his home village, he played some exhibition games, including one blindfold; and as late as 1955, when he was already fifty years old, he gave a simultaneous display in his home district of Sarghoda.217 Tournament invitations, however, were spurned. His patron, Sir Umar Hayat Khan, did not resume his duties in London and was replaced on the Council of India but, loyal as ever, he returned once more in 1935 for King George V’s silver jubilee celebrations. When he returned to India, he still involved himself in domestic politics, but transferred his political ambitions to his son and heir, Khizr, who became the Punjabi Prime Minister in 1942. Sir Umar retired to a fine house near to Mitha Tiwana, Sultan Khan’s home village. One can imagine the two of them still meeting and playing chess as they had done when Sultan first joined the household in 1926. Khizr Tiwana continued his father’s idealistic vision of a secular party

working under the British, but political and communal lines were hardening, and for once the family was on the wrong side of history. The Muslim League, led by Muhammed Ali Jinnah, gained more and more support, finally leading to partition and the creation of the Pakistan state in 1947. The neat lines of the borders between the new states could not possibly reflect the patchwork of communities across the land, and the minorities, isolated and fearful, departed their old homelands. The Punjab province, divided between India and Pakistan, was the front line of the two-way mass migration. An estimated 6.5 million Muslims moved from India to West Pakistan and 4.7 million Hindus and Sikhs moved from West Pakistan to India.218 The authorities on both sides of the border were completely unprepared for the upheaval of population and rage, riots, massacre and counter-massacre ensued. All three religious communities were both victims and perpetrators. Estimates of the number of deaths from this ‘massive exercise in human misery’219 vary between 200,000 and 2 million. The fact that no one can be certain of the number speaks of the utter chaos of the time. Tragically, despite the efforts that Sir Umar and Khizr had made to encourage tolerance and cooperation, the communal violence that overtook the north of India also spread to the Kalra Estate. Hundreds died and villages were torn apart. Sir Umar never witnessed the brutality. He died in 1944 at the age of sixty-nine. Thousands of mourners came to the funeral in an expression not just of loyalty to the man they called ‘The General’, but as a mark of his popularity. On his death-bed, fierce to the last, he had admonished his son Khizr: ‘Don’t ever be a coward’.220 As generous in death as he was in life, the Nawab bequeathed some land to Sultan Khan in his will, a gesture which united the two of them until the very end. Although Sultan had mixed feelings about his time in Europe, relations with Sir Umar must still have been cordial. With the death of his former master, the prospect of a return to the chess world in Europe – even if he had still had the desire – was now out of the question for Khan. He would not have had the means to get there, nor to support himself. Besides, the world had changed. After the Second World War, Europe was in ruins. Britain was bankrupt. The

Empire that Khan had conquered on the chessboard was disappearing: first India and Pakistan, and then colonies all over the world were pragmatically granted independence by the no-longer-mighty mother country. Sultan Khan’s journey was over. He had gone from a simple village to the capital of the Raj, and then to the capital of the Empire. He had seen grand hotels and palaces, played patzers and grandmasters; met lords and ladies, knights and bishops, rajahs and rakes, gamblers, drinkers, intellectuals and idealists. He could look back over the hundreds of games and thousands of moves that he had made and proudly re-live the struggles in his mind, a distant but still vivid empire of thought and strategy, knowing that he had never compromised his style, yet had matched the finest chess players in the world. But all these battles belonged to another time and place. Sultan Khan spent his final years at home. In the end, still suffering from the effects of tuberculosis, he died on 25th April 1966. ‘It was dark now. The Chessboard was spread out. Both kings were seated gloriously on their royal thrones, but there seemed sadness in their faces, as though they were mourning the death of our heroes. Silence reigned all around. The falling walls of the ruin, its crumbling arches and dust-laden minarets peered down at the corpses and grieved at the frailty of human life compared to any stone or brick.’ (A Game of Chess by Prem Chand, 1924)

EPILOGUE ‘If Sultan does not soon become a world champion India will have to evolve one.’ – The Times of India, 1938 As the years went by, the memory of Sultan Khan and his time in London faded. To most in Britain he was merely a ‘… dusky inscrutable ship that passed in the night.’221 After his departure, British chess continued its slow and steady decline right through into the post-war period, only picking up in the early 1970s with the emergence of professionals such as Tony Miles, John Nunn and Jonathan Speelman. The British team dropped to 12th place in the 1935 International Team Tournament, and 13th in 1937. Sir George Thomas had an Indian summer, winning the British Championship in 1934 and sharing first place in the Hastings Congress 1934/35 – but he faded after that. William Winter finally won the British Championship in 1935 and repeated his success in 1936. He remained a heavy drinker for the rest of his life and died in 1955 at the age of 58. Hugh Alexander became British Champion in 1938, but chess was always secondary to his career working as a cryptanalyst for the Government. At the famous Nottingham international tournament of 1936 that featured Lasker, Capablanca, Alekhine, Euwe and Botvinnik, the four home players, Tylor, Alexander, Thomas, and Winter, took the bottom four places in the tournament. A new super-power was emerging in the East. Andor Lilienthal, who had played in the Hastings tournament in 1933/34, recalled: ‘When I went to the Soviet Union for the first time I didn’t have the faintest idea what I was in for. I was just 24, and all I had seen up until then was the chess tables in the cafés of the European capitals and some pathetic tournament hall at Hastings.

Arriving in the USSR, I discovered a true El Dorado for chess players.’222 Whether the Soviet Union was such a paradise in other respects is another matter, but for professional chess players the contrast was stark: the government channelled considerable resources into developing the game and, post World War II, the Soviet Union dominated the chess world. Capablanca had died in 1942; Alekhine in 1946. Botvinnik became World Champion in 1948: a new generation had taken over. Did Sultan Khan’s European successes create a boom in chess in India? Perhaps for an initial period after his return, but once he went into virtual obscurity, not much occurred. India was going through a painful transition towards independence and partition; there were more pressing matters to consider. I think the most we can say is that he provided inspiration for other players. In the decades that followed, whenever promising chess players emerged, the Indian press invariably compared them to Sultan Khan – if he could do it, why not again? Indeed, Sultan Khan and Fatima were not the only players from the subcontinent to win the British Championship. Treading in their footsteps, Britain became a popular destination for aspiring players looking to gain experience in international tournaments. Post-Empire, regulations stated that Commonwealth citizens were able to play in the British Championship and many took advantage of the opportunity, among them Murshed, Barua, Sasikiran, Ganguly, Harikrishna, and Anand. Rani Hamid (Bangladesh) won the Ladies title in 1983, 1985, 1989; Bhagyashree Sathe and Vasanti Khadilkar shared first in 1984; Saheli Dhar won in 1993; Humpy Koneru won in 2000 and 2002. Ramachandran Ramesh won the Open Championship in 2002 and Abhijit Kunte won in 2003. Their success was finally too much for impecunious British professionals to bear, and in 2003 the British Chess Federation changed the regulations so that the tournament was only open to citizens of Britain and Ireland. I think it would be fair to say that for around 25 years, from the late 1970s to 2003, British tournaments, principally the national championship and the Lloyds Bank Open that followed in the calendar, provided a testing ground for many players from the sub-continent and contributed in a small way to India becoming one of the strongest chess-playing nations in the world. Viswanathan Anand became FIDÉ World Chess Champion in 2000,

undisputed World Champion in 2007, and successfully defended the title in 2008, 2010, 2012, before relinquishing it to Magnus Carlsen in 2013. It goes without saying that the achievements of Anand and the current generation of Indian players have eclipsed those of Sultan Khan, and his brief time in Europe was in an age that seems to have little to do with the current professional chess scene. Yet, at his best, he matched the strongest players in the world: in 1931 he drew with Alekhine, and defeated Capablanca, Flohr, Tartakower and Rubinstein. According to the chessmetrics.com website which calculates historical chess ratings, Khan was for at least a couple of years among the world’s top ten players, and ranked no.6 in the world at his best. It would be fitting if he were given some recognition for his achievements. In the past, chess players were often named as Grandmasters in a rather arbitrary fashion, and it was only when the international chess federation (FIDÉ) took control of the awarding of titles in the post-war period that regulation was introduced into the proceedings. In 1950 they awarded the title to several of the leading players of the day, as well as to others who were past their peak, but still living. Among them, of Khan’s generation: Ossip Bernstein, Ernst Grünfeld, Boris Kostic, Géza Maroczy, Jacques Mieses, Akiba Rubinstein, Friedrich Sämisch, Savielly Tartakower, and Milan Vidmar. It seems to me that Sultan Khan would have fitted into this company well, but he was overlooked. Manuel Aaron – India’s strongest player from the 1960s to the 1980s – believes that the British Chess Federation should have applied for the Grandmaster title on Sultan Khan’s behalf in 1950. If they had done so, would India and Pakistan have considered it high-handed for the old colonial power to act in this way? Then again, who else could have fought his case? At that time, neither the All India Chess Federation nor the Pakistan Chess Federation had been officially formed. A few years ago, Aaron petitioned FIDÉ on the matter, but received an unsatisfactory answer. It would be a pity if in death, as in life, Sultan Khan was still subject to the vicissitudes of geo-political struggle. On the other hand, wouldn’t it be wonderful if the chess federations of India, Pakistan and England could unite behind the cause to award Sultan Khan the Grandmaster title?

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I first started investigating Sultan Khan’s story after an email arrived from theatre director and chess fan, Dan Jemmett. Our continuing conversations over the past few years have been enlightening, encouraging and great fun. It was really by accident that the sporadic research I had been conducting turned into a book: a tipping point was reached when it became necessary to organise all the material I had collected, and this is the result. I would not have spent so much time on this story if Sultan Khan weren’t such a sympathetic character. ‘There is no more unassuming or popular player’ (see Cambridge 1932) is a description that stands out, and that is not the only occasion we hear of his modesty and generosity to others. Losing myself in another age has been an enormous pleasure, particularly the days spent at the British Library sifting for nuggets of information, aided by their patient and expert staff. I might still be burrowing happily through mountains of research if it weren’t for the sound advice of Richard Forster, the author of a 984-page biography of Amos Burn: ‘Just finish it’. Having decided that the research was worth sharing, I approached Allard Hoogland and Dirk Jan ten Geuzendam from New In Chess, who were curious enough to entertain the idea of the book, and then patient enough to await its arrival. I’m grateful for all their help and advice. Tony Gillam gave initial advice on research. His publication of historical books on Indian chess provided useful biographical information. Edward Winter also pointed out areas that might be explored and his articles on Sultan Khan were a useful starting point. ‘Chess Notes’ (www.chesshistory.com) is a cornucopia of historical details that helped to enrich this book. John Saunders, the founder and editor of BritBase (www.saund.co.uk/britbase), the archive of British tournament games, indicated sources and supplied relevant copies of the British Chess Magazine. He was generous with his time, and our discussions about the era were

always enjoyable. Manuel Aaron and Vijay Pandit provided games from the 1928 All-India Championship and the 1935 match versus Khadilkar – I am very grateful to them. They wrote the remarkable tome Indian Chess History, which has proved an invaluable source of information, particularly for details of Indian players and tournaments. Thanks to Sagar Shah for supplying the book. I am grateful to Dr. Sumita Mukherjee of Bristol University for checking historical information. Professor Ian Talbot of Southampton University gave permission for an important photo to be used. His book on Khizr Hayat Khan provided biographical information on Sir Umar Hayat Khan that filled in blanks in the story. Luc Winants drew my attention to Soultanbeieff’s annotations from his game against Khan in Folkestone 1933. Thanks to José Vandekerckhove for acting as intermediary, as well as for his encouragement throughout the writing process. I’m grateful to Mauro Barletta for pointing out the source of Mikenas’s anecdote. Richard Forster supplied information on the Bern 1932 tournament. During my research I understood how he became so gripped by his own historical projects. I am very grateful to David DeLucia for giving permission for his photographs to be used. Garry Kasparov and Klara Kasparova kindly supplied a photo of Rowena Bruce’s chessboard. Special thanks to Viswanathan Anand for writing a foreword, even though he had his own book project nearing completion. India has been lucky to have another courteous and generous champion. Most of all, thanks to Mairéad, Declan and Kit who put up with my obsession for so long. Daniel King London, January 2020

ENDNOTES Part I Chapter 1 1 William Ritson-Morry, interviewed for The Sultan of Chess TV programme 1990. 2 There is no record of Khan’s exact date of birth. 3 Sultan Khan is often accorded two other names, Mir Malik, but these are honorific. Mir is akin to addressing someone as ‘sir’; and Malik denotes a landowner or village chief. It is possible that Khan was styled as Malik simply because his father was the religious leader of the village. 4 Details from The Irish Times 14 August 1929 and other newspaper reports – presumably an agency interview. 5 ‘Sir Umar… took a great interest in him because of the remarkable aptitude he showed whenever he played a game with the Nawab.’ The Manchester Guardian 13 August 1929. 6 Quoted in The Rise and Fall of the British Empire, Lawrence James. ‘Public School’ in Britain actually means the opposite: elite and private 7 The Graphic 23 December 1911: ‘The Times correspondent describes his voice as “singularly penetrating”.’ 8 ‘Akbar saw chess as an ideal way to “test the value of men, and to establish harmony and good fellow-feeling at court”. It is probably no coincidence that Mughal authors made frequent use of gaming metaphors, especially those related to chess, when describing warfare and diplomacy.’ The Mughal Empire at War: Babur, Akbar and the Indian Military Revolution 1500-1605 – Andrew de la Garza. 9 ‘Wherever the British entered, the Young Men’s Christian Associations (YMCA) followed … and they always had chess as an activity … the YMCA in Simla regularly organised chess tournaments around 1890, sometimes with separate tournaments for games with Indian rules.’ Indian Chess History (Aaron and Pandit 2014). 10 E.g. The Delhi Gazette (1833). 11 Shrimant His Highness Rajesaheb Sir Chintamanrao Appasaheb (of Sangli Princely State), Shrimant Babasaheb Ghorpade Chief-saheb Ichalkaranji Jahagir, and exShrimant Bhausaheb Jamkhandikar Chief-saheb were his patrons – The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods – Tamannacharya Padsalgikar. 12 I doubted the veracity of this anecdote until I learned of the Patiala Necklace. This was

created by the House of Cartier in 1928 especially for the Maharajah, and contained 2,930 diamonds and a number of Burmese rubies. 13 Tournament details from Indian Chess History (Aaron & Pandit 2014). 14 ‘by paying them fat salaries’ – this wonderful phrase is a direct quote from The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods (Tamannacharya Padsalgikar 1941). 15 First published in the Scottish Chess Association Bulletin No. 10, January-April 1963. Chapter 2 16 Indian Chess History p.291. 17 Pandit and Aaron conjecture that the complex scoring system stated here is a bit too neat, the goals hardly achievable (except in the parallel world of problem chess) and never actually played. The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods (Tamannacharya Padsalgikar 1941) p.122 has good examples of the insane varieties of native rules. See also Indian Chess History p.18. 18 Based on a short story by Prem Chand 1924. 19 As quoted in The Hindu 27 December 1926. Chapter 3 20 Western Chess in British India. 21 The Times 7 February 1928. 22 The Labour MP Clement Attlee was one of the members of the commission and his experiences gathered on the two trips ‘stimulated his interest in Indian independence’. As Prime Minister of the UK, he presided over Indian Independence in 1947 – see Clement Attlee (Michael Jago). 23 From a speech Sir John gave at the opening of the Margate tournament 1937 – reported in CHESS Magazine. 24 The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, October 1983. 25 Indian Chess History p.136. 26 Or perhaps 1865 – see The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods p.77. 27 The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods. 28 Roughton obituary in British Chess Magazine 1953 p.212. 29 Some of the games played in Calcutta between 1848 and 1860 between the Scotsman John Cochrane and Mohishchunder Bonnerjee (and other Indian players) featured fianchetto openings. Many of these games were published in The Chess Players Chronicle. 30 Indian Chess History. 31 The only player missing was Kishan Lal, one of Sultan’s coaches, and in the early 1920s reckoned to be the best Indian player. After he left Sir Umar’s employ in 1929, he wasn’t heard of in chess circles again and died in 1934. Was he already too infirm to play?

Part II Chapter 4 32 The Times of India 10 October 1928; The Times of India 4 May 1929. Two tournaments were organised by Sir Umar in Delhi in February and March 1929. In the first, Sultan Khan won, ‘without the loss of a single game’. 33 Evening Standard 8 April 1929. Details of the attack The Patient Assassin, Anita Anand 2019. 34 In the 1970s I played a London League club match at the National Liberal Club; or rather attempted to. We were refused entry as the majority of our team were unable to comply with the smart dress code. 35 The Manchester Guardian 29 April 1929 and other journals including The Scotsman 29 April 1929. 36 The Scotsman 29 April 1929. 37 The Yorkshire Post, Thursday 2 May 1929. 38 The Oxford Companion to Chess, Hooper and Whyld 1992. 39 William Winter – Memoirs in CHESS Magazine 1962/63. 40 My Chess Career 1920. 41 Details from Cheltenham Chronicle and Gloucestershire Graphic 18 May 1929. 42 The financial district in London. 43 Research on the Yorkshire Chess History website https://mannchess.org.uk/ indicates that Fred Dewhirst Yates is his correct name. The conclusive proof is his gravestone – see photo on the website. In many books Frederick Dewhurst Yates has been erroneously reproduced. At the time, it was common practice in reports to simply state the name as F.D.Yates. 44 Birmingham Daily Gazette, 16th August 1932. 45 Sir Stuart Milner-Barry in TV interview. 46 There is some confusion as to Winter’s date of birth. Recent research suggests that it was probably 11th September 1897 – see http://www.chesshistory.com/winter/extra/winter.html for details. 47 £7 would be equivalent in 2019 to around £350. 48 See interviews The Scotsman 29 April 1929, The Yorkshire Post, Thursday 2 May. 49 Details in Roughton’s obituary BCM 1953. Chapter 5 50 Alekhine and Bogoljubow played their first world championship match in September 1929, and Winter played against him at the Gambit tournament in June, so he has misremembered the time of their first meeting. Nevertheless, the general point stands. He has given a sound appreciation of Khan’s strengths and weaknesses. 51 The school has several notable alumni. In 1929 the future British Prime Minister

52 53 54 55

56 57 58 59 60 61 62

63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70

71

Edward Heath was a pupil. Daily Herald 31 July 1929. The Times 12 November 1977. Chess Treasury of the Air, Tiller 1966. I only met Harry Golombek on a few occasions, and that, together with his style of writing, was enough for me to form an impression: perfectly pleasant, but a bit pompous. William Winter Memoirs in CHESS Magazine 1962/63. How to be an Alien, George Mikes 1966. The Times 31 July 1929. The Scotsman 1 August 1929. Western Daily Press 3 August 1929. Western Daily Press 5 August 1929. Botvinnik noted that at Nottingham 1936 he used a small tactile board to feel the pieces before moving on the actual board, and an abacus to count the moves played. But photographs in the early 1930s show that he was still playing without these aids. The Times 6 August 1929. Western Daily Press 9 August 1929. Thanet Advertiser 9 August 1929. Golombek’s radio broadcast on Sultan Khan, reproduced in Chess Treasury of the Air, Tiller 1977. The Times 12 November 1977. Game from West Sussex Gazette chess column. Details from Linlithgowshire Gazette 20 August 1929; Western Daily Press 10 August 1929; Belfast Newsletter 10 August 1929. The British Chess Magazine also reported that in spite of his governmental duties Sir Umar managed three visits to the Congress, showing great interest in his protégé. One trip was dramatic and showed the character of the man. Fairhurst was involved in an accident when a lorry crashed into his car. ‘In the same collision was Sir Umar Hayat Khan who was driving back to London. His car was a total wreck and was left in a field while he continued the journey by train.’ Rather than refuting Kipling’s lines, Sir Umar, with his ‘dramatic’ action, actually confirms them: Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face though they come from the ends of the earth! (From the ‘Ballad of East and West’ by Rudyard Kipling 1889) Rudyard Kipling has fallen out of favour, mainly because he was an apologist for the British Empire, but the Nobel laureate was a complex figure with a vast and varied canon of work – and had a controversial and contradictory relationship with India, the country of his birth, a country he loved, but that he believed should remain a part of the Empire.

72

73 74 75 76 77

78

79 80 81 82 83

There are some fascinating details in the Thanet Advertiser newspaper of Sir Umar befriending the local mayor, visiting a greyhound racing track and talking of hawking. They also described SK as ‘A great figure from the playing point of view, if not from the physical’. Both quotes from The Times 12 August 1929. The Observer 11 August 1929. Hull Daily Mail 10 August 1929. The Manchester Guardian 13 August 1929. Malarial attacks can recur months, and even years, after an initial illness. On a personal note, my Grandfather contracted malaria when serving with the British merchant navy and suffered relapses into his later life. He would be overcome with a fever and had to retreat to bed to sweat it out. By profession he was a civil and structural engineer, founding his own firm that specialised in bridge design. He was later honoured with the Presidency of the Scottish Branch of the Institution of Structural Engineers, and awarded a CBE. His company, now known as ‘Fairhurst’, thrives to this day and is one of the largest private engineering consultancy firms in the UK. Tylor was a Fellow and Tutor in jurisprudence at Oxford for almost forty years. In 1965 he was knighted in recognition of his services to organisations for the blind. The Observer 4 August 1929. The Illustrated London News 17 August 1929. Western Daily Press 10 August 1929 – and others. The Hindu 25 August 1929.

Chapter 6 84 The Times of India 27 August 1929. 85 Londoners Diary, Lancashire Post 30 September 1929. 86 The Hastings and St. Leonards Observer 31 August 1929. 87 The Sunday Times, 29 September 1929. 88 The Observer 29 September 1929; The Sunday Times 6 October 1929; The Illustrated London News 5 October 1929. 89 British Chess Magazine. 90 Mir Sultan Khan, R.N.Coles p.10. Chapter 7 91 Report with photo in June 1930 BCM. 92 Source: The Chess Mind, Gerald Abrahams, first published in 1951. I am guessing that this was played in the spring as after the summer of 1930 Abrahams did not play any chess for another 3 years while concentrating on his studies. 93 The Times of India 14 May 1930. 94 Lancashire Evening Post 21 June 1930.

95 Falkirk Herald 2 July 1930 96 ‘Sultan Khan, the British Champion, adjourned his game with Rubinstein after 37 moves…’ Yorkshire Evening Post 24 June 1930. 97 The Times, 26th June 1930.

Part III Chapter 8 98 William Winter Memoirs – CHESS Magazine 1962/1963. 99 See letters in Indian Rules chapter. 100 E.g. The Times of India 10 January 1931. 101 See the chapter on Cambridge Congress 1932. 102 Kmoch wrote later that it couldn’t have been him because he doesn’t shout. We will probably never know the identity of Khan’s opponent. 103 The Times 12 July 1930. 104 Die Schacholympiade von Hamburg, Chapuletzky & Toth. 105 ‘Sultan Khan won by out-playing the Spanish Champion in an endgame of bishop against knight.’ – The Manchester Guardian 22 July 1930 – as quoted in Chess Olympiad Hamburg 1930, Gillam. 106 Mir Sultan Khan, R.N.Coles (2nd ed., 1977), note on p.62. 107 British Chess Magazine. 108 ‘Sir G.A.Thomas was absent from several rounds owing to illness…’ The Falkirk Herald 6 August 1930. Chapter 9 109 Besides the tournament participants, there are many other notables who had also travelled on from Hamburg. Seated from left: Colle, (??), Alekhine, Nimzowitsch, Rubinstein, Ahues, (??) Standing from left: Marshall; Przepiorka is to the right behind his shoulder. Further along, right in the centre, the diminutive Yates peeps out; to the right of him Weenink (behind Nimzowitsch), Tartakower (with bow tie), Hans Kmoch; Sir George Thomas stands fourth from the right, Sultan Khan, and on the far right Isaac Kashdan. 110 New York Evening Post quoted in The Falkirk Herald 4 February 1931. 111 Mir Sultan Khan, R.N.Coles 1977. Chapter 10 112 Sir Ernest Graham-Little MD FRCP MP, first president of the Empire Social Chess Club – Social Chess Quarterly October 1931. 113 The wife of benefactor Frederick Hamilton-Russell. 114 Details from Social Chess Quarterly, Cheltenham & Gloucester Gazette, The Hastings

115 116 117 118 119

& St. Leonards Observer, British Chess Magazine. On 14th October 1930. They had drawn the previous year – see Tedious Play chapter. The full name is Conel Hugh O’Donel Alexander; he was generally known as ‘Hugh’. Game score from London Evening News. The Yorkshire Post 14 November 1930. The Times 20 January 1931.

Chapter 11 120 Carlsbad tournament book / quoted in Max Euwe – the Biography, Alexander Münninghoff. 121 Daily Herald, Tuesday 30 December 1930. 122 E.g. The Scotsman, 5 January 1931, The Scotsman 3 January, The Yorkshire Post 5 January. 123 The Scotsman, 6 January 1931. 124 The Times 6 January 1931. 125 The Scotsman 7 January 1931. 126 London Evening News 7 January 1931. 127 The Hastings and St. Leonards Observer 10 January 1931. 128 London Evening News 8 January 1931. Chapter 12 129 Zimdin, originally from Estonia and of Jewish extraction, invested heavily in the Grand Hotel and made a success of it, but was forced to sell the business to the Nazis in 1938 and fled to the USA. 130 Wiener Schach-Zeitung. 131 My Best Games, Tartakower. 132 Translations from Wiener Schach-Zeitung by DK. Chapter 13 133 Yates had given a simultaneous exhibition at the club a couple of years before. 134 London Evening News 18 February 1931. Chapter 14 135 The Scotsman 23 March 1931. Chapter 15 136 Capablanca is making an assumption. There was no such national championship of Indian chess, partly for organisational reasons and partly because there was no standardised form of the game across the sub-continent. 137 Lancashire Daily Post.

Chapter 16 138 Linlithgowshire Gazette 12 June 1931. 139 The honourable Frederick Gustavus Hamilton-Russell donated the gold trophy at the first International Team Tournament in London in 1927. He was a generous benefactor to British chess in the 1920s and 1930s. 140 Cheltenham Chronicle 1 Aug 1931. 141 William Winter in his memoirs, CHESS Magazine 1962/63.

Part IV Chapter 17 142 Midland Daily Telegraph – and many other papers. 143 London Evening News 10 September 1931. 144 Linlithgowshire Gazette 21 August 1931. ‘Paddy, the next best thing’ is a reference to a popular book and play of the time. 145 I knew Sir Stuart Milner-Barry personally. He was generous and modest, happy to host parties for the long-haired English chess teams of the 1970s and 1980s; as an octogenarian he was still playing fearless attacking chess. 146 The Hastings and St. Leonards Observer 22 August 1931. 147 London Evening News 19 August 1931. Chapter 18 148 ‘Sylvia Mayfair – A Woman in London, Chichester Observer 2 December 1931. 149 The Times 15 December 1931. 150 Unfortunately, no record of the game score exists. 151 London Evening News 19 October 1931. 152 Game and details from London Evening News 6 November 1931. 153 One wonders what happened to William Winter who had started off in this role. Did he get bored with the routine? Or did it have something to do with his fondness for a drink? According to the London Evening News, the daily attendance had considerably improved after Menchik took over. 154 London Evening News 17 November 1931. 155 Staffordshire Advertiser 5 December 1931. 156 The BCM’s words ‘one or two receptions’ is slightly mysterious, but it transpires that Alekhine also gave a private blindfold simultaneous display at one of these occasions, though we don’t know against whom (London Evening News 29 January 1932). Chapter 19 157 British Chess Magazine. 158 The Times 28 December 1931.

159 160 161 162

Mir Sultan Khan, R.N.Coles p.88. The Times 6 January 1932. Tartakower quoted by The Oxford Companion to Chess. Max Euwe – the Biography, Alexander Münninghoff.

Chapter 20 163 Game from London Evening News 27 January 1932. Chapter 21 164 Why wasn’t Yates playing? He was British Champion after all. The Scotsman described his absence as ‘regrettable’. It sounds as though he was unwell. 165 Continuing the note of tragedy, just before the start of the tournament Edgar Colle was forced to withdraw through illness and was replaced by his compatriot George Koltanowski. Colle had been unwell for some time and two months later, following an operation on a gastric ulcer, he died at the age of 34. 166 Dundee Evening Telegraph 2 February 1932 – for example. Quoted by various papers. 167 Sheffield Daily Telegraph 2 February 1932. 168 The Hastings & St. Leonards Observer 13 February 1932. Chapter 22 169 In conversation with DK in 1995. Chapter 23 170 London Evening News 2 March 1932. 171 London Evening News. 172 Johannes Hendrik Otto van den Bosch came from a noble Dutch family. In 1940, after his father’s death, he inherited the title Graaf (Count) van den Bosch. After World War II he became a director of ‘De Nederlandsche Bank’. 173 Details from British Chess Magazine report. 174 London Evening News 30th March 1932. 175 The Hastings & St. Leonards Observer 16 April 1932 quoting a press report. Chapter 24 176 Game from London Evening News 6 June 1932. 177 Game from London Evening News 6 June 1932. Chapter 25 178 At that time Khan was not actually British Champion. 179 I wonder if Tinsley had been deputed to chaperone Sultan Khan on the journey to Switzerland? 180 ‘In Sultan Khan’s hand, such blows have already contributed to the defeat of more

than one opponent’. 181 Primary source: Turnierbuch des Internationalen Schachturniers 16. bis 30. Juli 1932 im Auftrage des Schachklubs Bern mit den Anmerkungen der Teilnehmer herausgegeben von Wilhelm Bonacker. Other details from Schweizerische Schachzeitung August 1932. All translations from German and French by DK. Chapter 26 182 In newspapers and magazines of the time, ‘Fatima’ is the only name given. Ship records give another name ‘Ghulam’ – but this could just be a description as it means ‘servant’. In any case, I have never seen this given as a name elsewhere, so I’m remaining with the one name – Fatima. 183 The description of the contestants in the British Ladies Championship from the same newspaper profile above. 184 Details from Coventry Evening Telegraph – for example. This sketch was reproduced in many newspapers. 185 Birmingham Gazette. The Chess Amateur reported Yates was ill, but wasn’t more specific. Chapter 27 186 London Evening News 27 October 1932. 187 By this stage Khan’s English is evidently of a decent standard. On this trip he was not accompanied by an interpreter. 188 Some details from www.keverelchess.com.

Part V Chapter 28 189 See the Prague International Team Tournament for another example of his generosity. 190 Quotes from Watts and Winter in the posthumous One-Hundred-And-One Of My Best Games of Chess by F.D.Yates. Chapter 30 191 London Evening News 9 June 1933. 192 Khizr Tiwana, the Punjab Unionist Party and the Partition of India, Ian Talbot. 193 Details of Sir Umar’s involvement in religious matters from various issues of Islamic Review 1929-1933. 194 He played one game for the Imperial Chess Club in February 1933 (Evening News 22 February 1933). The only other mention of Sultan Khan during this time is that he had taken over the work of Fred Yates in adjudicating games in the London League.

Chapter 31 195 Folkestone Herald 17 June 1933. 196 Folkestone Herald. 197 Le Maître de l’Attaque 100 Parties de Soultanbéieff – translation from French by DK. 198 Quoted by Yakov Damsky in his book The Batsford Book of Chess Records who states it is from ‘… an extract from a book by Vladas Mikenas…’ but he doesn’t say which book. 199 Folkestone Herald 1 July 1933. 200 Chess Treasury of the Air, Tiller. 201 Details of closing ceremony from Folkestone Herald, 1 July 1933 202 Lessons From My Games, Reuben Fine. Chapter 32 203 Abrahams, Alexander, Golombek, Mortlock, Coleman all won on default against Winter following his withdrawal from the tournament after round 6. Mortlock replaced Charles Wreford-Brown who retired after two rounds through illness. Wreford-Brown’s games were annulled. 204 Details from British Chess Magazine and Gloucestershire Echo 11 August 1933. 205 London Evening News 14 August 1933. Chapter 33 206 Fatima interviewed for The Sultan of Chess TV programme 1990. 207 William Ritson-Morry interviewed for The Sultan of Chess TV programme 1990. 208 Gloucestershire Echo, 11th August 1933. 209 London Evening News 14th November 1933. 210 Details from London Evening News 31 October 1933. 211 Game from The Times Literary Supplement 9 November 1933. 212 Game from The Times Literary Supplement 7 December 1933. Chapter 34 213 The Times of India 26 January 1934. 214 Details from Indian Chess History & The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods. 215 ‘Half move’ – Kortchnoi’s contemptuous description of bland moves that maintain the status quo rather than seize the initiative. 216 Ather Khan quotes from The Sultan of Chess TV programme 1990. 217 Various The Times of India reports. 218 West Pakistan became Pakistan and East Pakistan became Bangladesh in 1971. 219 Margaret Bourke-White, American photographer and war correspondent. 220 Khizr Tiwana, the Punjab Unionist Party and the Partition of India, Ian Talbot.

Epilogue 221 G.H.Diggle, British Chess Magazine 1955. 222 Smyslov on the Couch – Sosonko.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Newspapers

I’ve indicated in the text where I’ve quoted from contemporary newspapers. This was an invaluable source of material. Some are available online through the British Newspaper Archive. Others were accessed on microfilm at the British Library. Software

ChessBase MegaBase Magazines and journals

The British Chess Magazine 1929-1933 and various other years The Chess Amateur 1928-1930 Social Chess Quarterly 1930-1936 CHESS Magazine – in particular 1962-63 for William Winter’s memoirs Wiener Schach-Zeitung 1931 Schweizerische Schachzeitung 1932 Islamic Review 1929-1933 Online

The Open University, Making Britain: www.open.ac.uk/researchprojects/makingbritain/ 1933 electoral role – London Borough of Wandsworth council records Ancestry.com for ship passenger lists BritBase edited by John Saunders – a collection of historical British tournaments www.saund.co.uk/britbase/ Chess Notes edited by Edward Winter www.chesshistory.com TV programme: The Sultan of Chess, Bandung Limited 1990 Books

Aaron, Manuel & Pandit, V.D. Indian Chess History Chess Mate 2014

Abrahams, Gerald The Chess Mind Penguin 1960 Alekhine, Alexander Sixty-Six Master Games played in the London International Chess Tournament 1932 Hardinge Simpole Publishing 2003 Alekhine, Alexander My Best Games of Chess 1924-1937 G.Bell and Sons, Ltd. 1939 Anand, Anita The Patient Assassin Simon & Schuster 2019 Bonacker, Wilhelm Turnierbuch des Internationalen Schachturniers Bern 16. bis 30.Juli 1932 S.J.Berthoud 1932 Capablanca, J.R. My Chess Career G.Bell and Sons Ltd. 1920 Capablanca, J.R. Capablanca’s Last Chess Lectures Herbert Jenkins Ltd. 1967 Chapuletzky, F. & Toth, L. Die Schacholympiade von Hamburg 1930 British Chess Magazine classics reprint 1973 Cload, Reg Battles of Hastings Pergamon Chess 1991 Coles, R.N. Mir Sultan Khan, 2nd edition, British Chess Magazine Ltd. 1977 De la Garza, Andrew The Mughal Empire at War: Babur, Akbar and the Indian Military Revolution 1500-1605 Routledge 2016 Damsky, Yakov The Batsford Book of Chess Records B.T.Batsford 2005 Eales, Richard Chess – The History of a Game Hardinge Simpole Publishing 2002 Fine, Reuben The World’s Great Chess Games Crown Publishers 1951 Gillam A.J. Chess Olympiad Hamburg 1930 The Chess Player, Nottingham 2016 Harley, Brian Chess and its Stars Whitehead & Miller, Ltd. 1936 Hooper, David & Whyld, Kenneth The Oxford Companion to Chess Oxford University Press 1992 Jago, Michael Clement Attlee Biteback 2014 Kashdan, Isaac Folkestone 1933 International Chess Team Tournament Whitehead & Miller 1933 Keay, John India: A History HarperPress 1999 Khan, Imran Pakistan – A Personal History Bantam 2012 Lawrence, James The Rise and Fall of the British Empire Abacus 1994 Mikes, George How to be an Alien Penguin 1966 Mount, Ferdinand Prime Movers Simon & Schuster 2018 Münninghoff, Alexander Max Euwe The Biography New In Chess 2001 Murray, H.J.R. A History of Chess Skyhorse Publishing 1913

Padsalgikar, Tamannacharya The Game of Chess – Native and Western Methods 1941 (English version by V.D.Pandit, The Chess Player 2009) Pandit, Vijay D. – Western Chess in British India The Chess Player 2011 Parlett, David The Oxford History of Board Games 1999 Ray, Satyajit The Chess Players and other screenplays Faber & Faber 1989 Prem Chand A Game of Chess 1924 (included in above book) Sosonko, Genna Smyslov on the Couch Elk & Ruby 2018 Soultanbéieff, Victor Le Maître de l’Attaque 100 Parties de Soultanbéieff Échecs et Mat, Bruxelles 1950 Talbot, Ian Khizr Tiwana, the Punjab Unionist Party and the Partition of India Routledge 1996 Tartakower, Savielly My Best Games of Chess 1905-1954 Russell Enterprises 2015 Tharoor, Shashi Inglorious Empire Hurst 2016 Tiller, Terence Chess Treasury of the Air Penguin 1966 Winter, Edward Capablanca McFarland & Company, Inc, 1989 Yates, F.D. One-Hundred-And-One of my Best Chess Games Reprint – Publishing House Moravian Chess (the original was published in 1934)

Index of names (numbers refer to pages) A Aaron 29, 365 Abdul Aziz 159 Abercrombie 64 Abraham 348 Abrahams 75, 78, 92, 95, 106-107, 140, 201, 342, 348 Abramavicius 140 Adhiban 43 Ahues 109, 115, 118, 121, 123-124, 127-128, 132-133, 145, 155 Akbar 20 Akbar Shah 95 Alekhine 11, 65-67, 74, 100, 130, 135, 143, 146, 166, 168-169, 179, 187, 207-208, 211, 215, 218, 220-221, 224, 229, 234, 241-243, 252, 255, 257262, 264-268, 270, 273, 281-287, 294, 296-297, 303, 314, 316, 318-319, 334-338, 363-364 Alexander,C.H.O’D. 160, 225-226, 228, 232, 251, 275, 277-278, 298, 302305, 308-310, 316, 322, 324, 326, 332, 338, 340, 342-343, 345, 348, 363 Alexander,F.F.L. 298, 309 Ali Jinnah 109, 236, 328, 360 Alington 96 Allenby 60 Allies 11 Alurkar 24, 356 Anand 316, 364 Andersen 211, 214 Andrews 348 Apsenieks 133, 140, 335 Asgeirsson 334 Ather Khan 356, 359-360

Atkins 22-23 Aye 252 Aziz 242 B Baldwin 61 Barnett 74, 93, 106 Barrie 68 Barua 364 Basalvi 158-159, 242, 299, 349 Baymetov 43 Becker 196, 248 Bernstein 281-282, 294-296, 338, 365 Betbeder Matibet 138 Bingley-Bibb 225-226 Blackburne 67 Blake 22 Bodas 24, 56-57 Bogoljubow 74, 169, 210-211, 281-282, 294-296, 303, 316, 338 Bonar Law 67 Bosworth Smith 93 Botvinnik 363-364 Breyer 96, 189 Brown 102 Bruce 316, 337 Buerger 202, 205, 267-270 Burden,H. 349 Burden,P. 349 C Capablanca 9-14, 31, 53, 63-67, 69, 80, 100, 105, 130, 135, 140, 144, 146, 158, 165-168, 170-174, 176-178, 181-183, 185-187, 203, 207-208, 220221, 224, 243, 255, 269, 273, 316, 363-364 Carlsen 90, 114, 125, 160, 364 Chajju Ram 24 Chambers 102

Chapman 316 Christoffersen 211 Churchill 235, 351 Cobham 224 Cochrane 42-43 Cohn 252 Cole 348 Coles 156 Colin 282, 288-289, 296 Colle 109, 111, 118-121, 123-124, 127-128, 136, 143, 147-149, 155-156, 165, 168, 170, 181-182, 185-186, 271 Colman 27, 348 Conde 67, 69, 72, 80 Craddock 354 Cross 348 Crum 348 D Dake 210, 340 Damant 352 Damsky 336 De La Bourdonnais 114 Deschapelles 43 Dew 316 Dhar 364 Drewitt 75, 83, 87, 92, 95 Duleepsinhji 131 Du Mont 242, 262 Dunsany 158 E Edward VIII 103 Erdelyi 211 Euwe 165-167, 178, 181-187, 207-208, 243, 246, 248-250, 281-283, 289290, 294, 296-297, 303, 316, 353, 363 Eva 75, 90-92

F Fairhurst 22-23, 75, 80, 92, 95, 298, 308-309, 334, 352 Fateh Khatun 329 Fatima 299-300, 309, 336-337, 344-346, 348-352, 355, 359, 364 Felce 159-161, 237 Fine 144, 332, 340-341 Firth 157 Fischer 208, 252 Flohr 82, 211, 217, 229, 243, 245-246, 248-250, 255, 261-262, 267-270, 275276, 281-283, 294, 296, 321, 324, 326-327, 333, 353-354, 364 Franco Ocampos 353 G Gadre 42, 49, 57 Gandhi 5, 21, 107-108, 234-237, 255 Ganguly 364 George V 19-20, 107, 157, 162, 235, 351, 360 Gibson 22, 232 Gilfer 139 Godena 43 Golmayo de la Torriente 133, 211 Golombek 76, 90, 237, 298, 305, 309, 337, 342, 347-348 Goodman 315 Gordon Ross 92, 298 Gossain 21 Gould 238 Graham-Little 157, 242 Griffith 159, 242 Grob 282, 296 Grünfeld 109, 121, 123-124, 127, 189, 211, 221, 269, 276, 365 Gurudasmal 24 Gygli 282, 291, 296 H Habibullah 99 Hamid 364

Hamilton-Russell,F 319, 331 Hamilton-Russell,M 158 Hamond 75, 77-78, 83, 85, 87, 92, 94-95, 246, 248 Hardayal 36 Hardinge 35 Harikrishna 364 Hassan 50, 57, 84 Hatton-Ward 255-256 Henneberger 282, 296 Hilbert 202, 206 Hoare 328 Hodgson 311 Holloway 237, 348 Hooke 310, 348 Horwitz 210 Hounie Fleurquin 252 Hunnam 298, 309 I Insull 202 Irvine-Fortescue 27 Irving 102-103 Irwin 235 J Jackson 243, 246, 248-249, 303, 305, 309, 326 Jameson 347-348 Johner,H 211, 220-221, 281, 292, 294, 296 Johner,P 252, 281, 287-288, 296 Jones 224 Joseph 242 Joshi 24-25, 34, 44, 55, 57 K Kaka 25, 27, 36, 40, 57 Karjakin 160

Karpov 316 Kashdan 140, 210-211, 216, 243, 245-246, 248-250, 255, 266-267, 332, 335, 340 Kasparov 103, 171, 316, 338 Kasparova 316 Keres 252 Khadilkar 22-25, 44, 52-53, 55, 57, 63, 69-70, 80, 356-358 Khadilkar,Vas. 364 Khizr 329, 360-361 Kipling 92 Kirk 75, 82, 92 Kmoch 131, 140, 191-192, 195 Koltanowski 266-267 Koneru 364 Kortchnoi 50, 316, 353 Kostic 23-25, 34, 313, 365 Kramnik 316 Krause 285 Krogius 140 Kunte 364 L Lady Umar 349, 355 Lal 24-26, 147 Landau 268, 270 Lander 314 Lasker 67, 100, 114, 146, 268, 363 Latham 242 Levin 205 Lilienthal 363 Lindbergh 206 Ljubojevic 338 Locock 242 Lodhi 252 Löwenthal 114

M MacDonald 162-164, 234 Mackenzie 322 Mackereth 348 Mamedyarov 125 Maroczy 109, 118-121, 123-124, 127-128, 266-267, 365 Marshall 23, 56, 144, 146-147, 155, 205, 210, 331-332, 339-340 Marx 75 Mary 20, 351 Matisons 211, 214-215 Meer 33 Mehendale 24, 44-45, 57 Menchik 5, 77, 109, 111, 120, 127, 165, 181-182, 185-187, 234, 239-243, 246-250, 255, 267, 275, 277, 316, 322, 326, 349 Michell,E 309, 344, 348 Michell,R.P. 22, 75, 83, 85-87, 90, 92, 95, 109-110, 121, 125-128, 165, 168169, 178, 181, 185-187, 202, 205, 226, 232, 247, 250-253, 255, 272, 305, 309, 324, 326, 330, 332, 334, 340 Mieses 365 Mikenas 211, 336-337, 351 Miles 363 Miller 108 Milner-Barry 225, 228, 232, 267, 274-275, 277 Minto 61 Mirza 33 Mlotkowski 205 Morphy 43 Morrison 75, 78, 92, 231-232, 239 Mortlock 348 Muhammed Khan 159, 329 Murray 21 Murshed 364 Mussgrave 348 N Naegeli 282, 296

Nakamura 69 Nandlal 33 Nasiruddin 24 Nehru 328 Nimzowitsch 96, 143, 153-155, 189, 191, 243, 255, 258, 284-285 Nizamuddin 16 Noteboom 97 Nunn 363 O Ostrer 255-256 P Padsalgikar 31 Pandit 26, 29 Pap 43 Pelletier 69 Petrosian 240 Pillsbury 215 Pirc 321-322, 324, 326 Pleci 147, 155, 179, 271 Pokorny 136-137, 142 Prem Chand 362 Price,E 67 Price,H.F 22, 75, 83, 92, 231 Przepiorka 153, 155 R Raaflaub 283 Rahmat Ali 105 Rai 24-25, 27, 36-37, 57 Ramesh 364 Rawson 100, 242, 352 Ray 33 Rellstab 283 Réti 62, 96, 189

Ritson-Morry 16 Rivier 282-283, 296 Rosselli del Turco 211, 216, 337-338 Rothermere 328 Roughton 48-50, 57, 73 Ruben 134, 154 Rubinstein 62, 109-113, 118-121, 123-124, 127-128, 140, 142-143, 149-150, 155-156, 170, 211-215, 364-365 S Sahib Khan 18 Saklatvala 61, 99 Salmony 64 Sämisch 365 Sasikiran 364 Sathe 364 Saunders 22, 306, 309 Schlechter 114 Scott 22-23 Seitz 97, 242 Sergeant 109-110, 127, 202, 205, 226, 232, 242 Shafi 234 Sharp 205 Shiels 99 Siegheim 62-63, 69, 80 Simon 35-36, 38-39, 42, 48, 61-62, 66, 73, 100, 108, 273, 298, 351 Simonson 340 Simpson 348 Singh 23 Sir Umar Hayat Khan 8-10, 16-20, 23-25, 27, 34-36, 38-40, 60-62, 64, 66-67, 73-76, 92, 99, 103-107, 158-159, 161-163, 181, 188, 199-200, 207, 209, 224, 234-236, 241-242, 257, 298-299, 321, 328-330, 337, 340-342, 346, 349-352, 355, 360-361 So 90 Soultanbeieff 143-144, 153-155, 191, 335-337 Speelman 363

Spencer 22, 201, 230-232 Staehelin 282, 296 Stahlberg 140, 179, 211, 216-217, 332 Staunton 52, 114 Steele 21 Steiner,E 211 Steiner,H 210 Steiner,L 216, 263, 321-322, 326 Stevenson,A 209, 242, 309, 345-346, 348 Stevenson,R.H.S. 242 Stoltz 243, 245-246, 248-250 St. John Brooks. 237 Suarez 24 Sveshnikov 114 T Takacs 135, 154 Tarrasch 67, 146, 292 Tartakower 5, 63, 83, 109, 111, 150, 154-155, 189-190, 192-199, 203, 211, 216, 224, 255, 266-267, 334-335, 364-365 Taubmann 140 Thomas 22-23, 74, 94-95, 97, 109, 111, 121-123, 127-128, 130, 135, 142143, 151-153, 155, 165, 178, 185-187, 202, 209-210, 224, 227-229, 231233, 243-246, 249-250, 267, 275, 277, 279, 305-306, 309, 316, 324, 326, 332, 334, 340, 344, 348, 363 Tinsley 283, 300-301, 305 Tipu Sultan 165, 183 Turing 225 Tylor 75, 82, 87, 92, 95, 130, 142, 165, 185-187, 219, 228-229, 232, 244, 276-277, 298, 300-301, 305, 309, 324, 326, 345-348, 363 V Vajda 91, 97, 218 Van den Bosch 273, 276-277, 303 Van Gogh 75 Van Vliet 232

Veitch 106 Vibhaji Jadeja 131 Victoria 75 Vidmar 105, 211, 215, 229, 365 Vishnu Datt 30 Voellmy 282, 296 Vukovic 97 W Wahltuch 209-210 Watteau 163 Watts 319 Wedgwood Benn 73, 99, 234 Weenink 133, 145, 153, 155, 211, 220 Weiser 205 Wheelwright 345, 348 Whieldon 242 Whitaker 202-206 Whiteley 157 Widmann 281, 283 Winkelman 205 Winter 65-68, 71-72, 74-76, 78, 83-84, 87-89, 92, 94, 97-98, 109, 111, 120121, 125, 127-128, 130-131, 156, 158, 165, 178-182, 185-187, 195, 202203, 205, 209-210, 224, 227-228, 231-232, 261-263, 266-267, 271, 284, 316, 318, 320-321, 332, 337, 340, 344-345, 348, 352-354, 363 Wreford-Brown 101-102, 242 Y Yates 6, 22-23, 67-69, 72, 74, 94-95, 97-98, 109, 111, 113-115, 127-128, 130, 132-133, 135, 158, 165, 182-183, 185-188, 200-202, 205, 209-210, 224, 227-228, 231-233, 242, 246, 249-251, 276-277, 280, 298-299, 305307, 309, 318-321, 325, 350 Z Zimdin 189