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The Battle of the Somme

 

Nariman Karkaria

 

At last, it was our turn to see action, something we had been waiting for with our eyes peeled. Some of the soldiers were very eager to see the Germans in person and flaunt their muscle power, while quite a few were most distressed by the orders to advance forward to the front lines. We were to participate in the Battle of the Somme, which has already achieved legendary status in the Great War.

 

The Role of the Indian Army

 

Indian bicycle troops at a crossroads on the Fricourt-Mametz Road, Somme, France. Dated July 1916. From the collection of Imperial War Museums, London.

 

 

The Indian Army also took part in the Battle of the Somme.

 

The Bengal Lancers advanced under heavy fire from the Germans right up to the German trenches and forced them to retreat. On this occasion, our platoon was ordered to advance to the firing line. Our undercover march started at about one o’clock in the night. We had been strictly warned not to utter a single word. With great difficulty, we managed to advance, digging a few trenches and walking all through the night, only to find ourselves in a very unfortunate position in the morning. A German observation balloon which had been flying above us had spotted us, and very soon our route came under heavy fire. Shells were exploding all around us. To escape them, we would lie flat on the ground for a short while before running to advance a little forward. A wave of fear rippled through our platoon. Soldiers were falling all around us with piteous shrieks, but there was nothing that could be done. Each man was on his own and could not be bothered about anybody else. Others would advance by stepping on those injured soldiers who had fallen to the ground. We had no option but to move forward. We also had no idea what kinds of difficulties we were to face as we advanced. Many of our men were lagging behind, but we could not wait for them, and at about twelve noon we reached the famous jungles of Del Ville Wood where we felt we could finally heave a sigh of relief. But fate had other things in store for us. There were no trenches beyond the next twenty-five yards from where we were located. We could not step out of the trenches as we would have been sitting ducks for German guns. The Germans were hardly at any distance from where we were—say about a hundred yards away in their trenches. In spite of this situation, the Commanding Officer gave orders to advance further. We had no option but to run, and we ran in pairs. We would advance about ten steps before throwing ourselves flat on the ground. Our progress did not last very long. Soon enough, the enemy started firing at us with their machine guns.

 

We were staring death in the eye. But as luck would have it, there had been a fierce battle on this very site just four days ago, and the bodies of dead soldiers were lying all around us. These corpses proved very useful in sheltering us from the enemy gunfire. As we advanced, we would lie behind these corpses, and they would act as our shield taking all the gunfire. Ah, what a terrible experience! Just one bullet and we would also have joined the army of cold corpses!

 

War in the Skies

 

After a very desperate battle and the loss of over fifty soldiers, we were lucky enough to be able to take possession of the trenches. Because of the non-stop action during the night and the better part of the day, we had not even had a cup of tea, much less anything to eat. I had managed to eat a couple of biscuits while moving forward. This was all I had had, with which I had to be content for the whole day. Once we took possession of the trenches, the different companies of the platoon were immediately assigned positions. While the A and C Companies were assigned the forward trenches, the B Company was assigned the communication line, which was about ten yards behind us, and the D Company was a further fifteen yards behind them in the support line. We were immediately ordered to make structural improvements in the trenches, which meant more digging. These trenches were not deep enough for a man to stand erect. The soldiers were tired of standing with their backs bent for extended lengths of time. The trenches were also rather narrow and we could hardly move around in them. We began using our small shovels and spades, and started digging at a steady pace, making as little noise as possible. We had hardly started digging when the sky above us was criss-crossed by enemy planes. They had been sent to monitor our progress and signal our position. Soon enough, our lines were bombarded by their artillery positions and we had to suspend our digging operations. Before we go further ahead with our story, let us take a look at the role of these aeroplanes in the war.

 

These aerial barques would fly high over enemy camps and their trenches, and photograph our positions to determine where the enemy was concentrated and how their lines were positioned. They would then go back and relay all the information to the base. They were, however, most deadly when they worked in conjunction with the artillery. These planes would be assigned to specific batteries; during an assault, these planes would hover above the enemy lines and relay back information on where the shells were landing. If the shells were landing at too short or too long a distance from the enemy trenches, they would immediately ask the battery to adjust its range. If they spotted a shell that had landed at the right place, they would immediately signal a ‘repeat fire’ to completely pulverize the position. Sometimes they would come in huge numbers and we would be carpeted with aerial fire. These aerial barques completely terrorized everybody in the trenches. The minute they appeared above us, we would be ordered to remain as still as possible. If we froze in our positions, it was possible that they might not spot us.

 

These planes were also mounted with machine guns that would merrily go ‘Bang! Bang!’ and wreak havoc on those below. Occasionally, planes from both the sides would engage each other in the skies, and this was indeed a sight to behold.

 

To contain these demons of the skies, a different kind of specially designed artillery known as ‘anti-aircraft guns’ would be deployed. They would keep up a relentless fire on the planes from the minute they were spotted.

 

Storm on a Dark Night

 

This being our first day in the firing-line trenches, all the soldiers were not assigned specific duties. Some of them were free while others were stationed at specific locations on sentry duty in batches. As these trenches were not deep enough for the soldiers to stand erect and peep over them to monitor the enemy’s movements, a special glass contraption was designed, which could be attached to the tip of the bayonet of one’s gun. This helped the sentry sit down and monitor the space between our trenches and those of the enemy. At short intervals, they would slightly raise their guns very carefully, and peep into the glass and see if there were any enemy advances. Every so often, German snipers would shoot at the bayonets of these soldiers with perfect aim. These German snipers were a real nuisance. At night, snipers from both sides would emerge from the trenches and shoot at the slightest movement. Besides these man-made miseries, we also had to face the fury of nature. In addition to the relentless noise of heavy guns firing through the dark night, we had to brave the most frightful thunder accompanied by incessant rain. It would rain all through the night and the trenches would be flooded. We would be standing in chest-deep water, wondering when the enemy would mount a surprise attack. Even as our boots and clothes were weighed down by the squelching mud and water, our officers would keep braying at us: ‘Beware! The enemy might attack!’ Buffeted from all sides and terrorized by the incessant guns, there were many soldiers who felt it would be far better to emerge from the trenches and take a chance with the enemy gunfire. There were others who were so paralysed by fear that they would appear almost insane and would not stir from their positions. Even if they had to answer nature’s call, they would be unable to take a single step. They would just dig a shallow hole right where they were and do their dirty business. In spite of their paralysis, they were somehow drafted to do some work by the booming orders of the officers. As mentioned earlier, the front line was manned by batches, each batch consisting of one sentry and five soldiers, with a non-commissioned officer in charge of them. They were responsible for holding the front line, and each soldier had to be on strict lookout for one hour at a time. A Lewis gun or a machine gun would be placed between every three batches. If the sentry felt that the enemy was trying to make an advance or if there was the slightest movement detected in the enemy lines, the guns would start firing. These Lewis guns played a very important role in this devastating war. These lightweight guns weighed only twenty-nine pounds and could be easily handled by one man who could move it from place to place, and when ordered, start firing at the rate of four hundred bullets per minute. Each of these guns was equivalent to a hundred rifles. We always had to be prepared at the firing line with all these arrangements.

 

Tear-Inducing Chilli Bombs

 

Indian infantry in the trenches, prepared against a gas attack [Fauquissart, France]. Dated 9th August, 1915. From the HD Girdwood collection, British Library.

 

After spending a miserable night in the trenches, we were shivering in our wet clothes in the morning. Suddenly we were ordered to ‘Stand to!’ Now what was this for? Even as we were wondering what it was all about, a gas that felt like chillies began pervading the trenches. Shrill orders to wear our goggles were urgently issued.

 

When the gas first attacked us, we could hardly understand what was happening. The gas began to envelop us from every direction and gas shells lobbed from the enemy lines were silently exploding all around us. Our eyes were in a state of extreme irritation. It felt as if they would burst.

 

We could hardly see anything; tears were flowing freely from our eyes, and it felt dark and terrifying. In spite of all this, everybody got into fighting position, facing the enemy lines and waiting for the inevitable attack. It was generally understood that the enemy released this gas just before it launched an attack. It rendered our soldiers blind and immobile for a brief while, and during this period, they could get the better of us and wrest our trenches. We could hardly open our eyes since the chilli gas had caused our eyes to turn red and swell up. How was a soldier to fight under such adverse circumstances? Along with this chilli gas, regular artillery fire was also kept up by the enemy, which further exacerbated the situation. To combat the nuisance of these ‘tear shells’ and to protect the eyes, a special kind of protective spectacles had been designed. They were made of ordinary glass through which everything could be seen, and the frame was fringed with flannel which ensured that the gas did not make contact with the eyes. The only saving grace was that exposure to tear gas, unlike poison gas, was not fatal; it merely left you blind for a short while.

 

On a Starvation Diet

 

Besides all the problems described above, we had yet another major problem to contend with: how to silence our hunger pangs. Soldiers on the firing line had to remain awake day and night and had no chance to lie down. To make matters worse, they had to scrounge for food. Admittedly, there was a lot of food dumped beyond the support lines as the motor transport guys would weave through the heaviest artillery fire to supply the food. Transporting the food from the dump to the firing lines was a major challenge for the soldiers. They would step out in large numbers to bring the food stuffed in small gunny bags back from the dump to the front line. The extreme conditions in the trenches, what with them being flooded with rainwater and slush, and the incessant firing of the enemy many a time prevented them from returning safely. They would be injured and fall down en route, and the food would also lie rotting there. The situation at the firing line was indeed desperate. The D Company had been assigned the support line and was responsible for supplying us with food, but as they came under heavy fire, they could not venture out of their trenches. Even though we were at the very front, the lines immediately to our rear suffered the most, bearing the brunt of the artillery fire. At least fifteen to twenty men from one company would get injured every day, and the condition of the injured was indeed very pitiable. How was food to reach us under this situation? We had to subsist on the few packets of biscuits and bully beef we had carried with us. Where was the question of getting a hot cup of tea? Not a single wisp of smoke was supposed to escape from the trenches. If the enemy spotted smoke coming from a trench, they would consider it to be a live target and fire immediately. The poor soldiers would go scrounging around for cigarette stubs.

 

Such was the dire situation at the front lines—starvation, mud and slush—and the relentless artillery fire had so harassed the soldiers that they were a pathetic sight to behold.

 

They had not shaved for days. How do you think they looked? It is best left to the imagination!

 

Our Final Assault

 

King George V inspecting Indian troops attached to the Royal Garrison Artillery, at Le Cateau on 2 December 1918. Imperial War Museums, London.

 

 

This was to be our last day at the famous Del Ville Wood. After many days of suffering and troubles, would it be too much to say that our imminent relief seemed like a new lease of life to us? Early in the morning, the news had already spread in the trenches that we were to be relieved tonight; our faces were aglow with delight. Just after noon, more authoritative news reached us, which was slightly different. We were indeed to be relieved, but we would have to perform some more arduous tasks tonight; the soldiers welcomed this news as a means of getting out of the trenches. All of us had been eagerly looking forward to being relieved for many days. Instead of spending yet another day in the slushy trenches, it was more preferable to emerge from them and show our courage in hand-to-hand combat. As per the orders issued to us, we were to launch our attack at ten in the night. Two companies were to lead the attack while the other two companies were to support us in the assault, and the trenches which we were to evacuate were to be occupied by the 4th Suffolk Regiment. All preparations had been made for a full-on artillery assault at the same time. Some of the soldiers were eagerly looking forward to the hour of the assault, while the colour had drained out of the faces of others. This supposedly minor assault was sure to claim the lives of many soldiers, but nobody knew who it would be. As things turned out, luck was on our side on this dark and evil night. It was pitch dark and the rain was falling steadily, and the roads were so slushy that they were of a porridge-like consistency. The enemy might have felt that there was very little likelihood of an attack from us in such awful weather. Our strategy was to attack under the cover of bad weather. Every minute seemed like an hour. As we waited, we could hear our hearts beating within our chests. After a seemingly eternal wait, it was finally the dark hour when we were to launch our attack. Just as orders were barked out to get us ready for the final assault, a volley of artillery fire passed over our heads towards the enemy lines. Within the blink of an eye, the Germans returned fire. Hundreds of shells were exploding loudly all around us. Their smoke darkened the skies, and we were already so scared that any enthusiasm we might have had for escaping from the trenches evaporated. Before we could think any further, orders were screamed out: ‘Over the top! Best to luck!’ The minute we heard the orders, we jumped out of the trenches and emerged into the open. We could soon hear the plaintive screams of our fellow soldiers, many of whom had fallen victim to the fire from the mortars and the machine guns. The rest of us braves, mindless of the fate of our colleagues, kept advancing. Lying flat on the ground, we crawled for over an hour and were lucky enough to finally make it to the enemy front lines. We then lobbed small bombs into their trenches and soon jumped into the trenches for a face-to-face duel. At this stage, many soldiers lost their lives to close-range enemy bullets, while some were bayoneted to death. We were able to take ten prisoners and capture one machine gun. We were about to turn back but heavy enemy artillery fire prevented us from doing so.

 

This was the heaviest bombardment I had ever seen, with thousands of shells exploding simultaneously all around us.

 

Because of the rain, mud and slush, our clothes felt like they weighed a ton. Dragging all this paraphernalia with us, a few of us were lucky enough to get back to our lines. Even as we were luxuriating in our good fortune, Lady Luck finally deserted us. A heavy shell landed just ten yards from where we were and exploded very loudly; we tried to jump away from it, but were not lucky enough to escape without being hit. I was also hit by a fragment. Even though I jumped as quickly as I could into a trench, my leg was injured in a gruesome manner. This had to happen just on the very last day when we were about to be relieved from trench duty. When fate turns against you, there is nothing you can do!

 

Adding Insult to Injury

 

Like me, there were hundreds of injured soldiers moaning and lying unattended in the trenches.

 

There was nobody to listen to our groans or pay any attention to us. Our troubles were just starting. If you managed to reach the dressing station, your troubles could come to an end. But in this bloody battle, it seemed like an impossibility. It was routine for hundreds of soldiers to get injured every day, and each platoon had its own stretcher-bearers who were supported by men from the Royal Army Medical Corps. For this assault, special working parties had also been formed. The firing and the destruction was, however, so severe that all these arrangements came to nought. Unlucky soldiers with stomach or leg injuries would frequently die a painful death in the trenches. If an injured soldier managed to drag himself away from the action, he stood a better chance of survival. Once you reached the dressing station, you would be one among thousands of injured soldiers crying for medical attention. The best possible care was given to them. There would be trolleys and vehicles from the Ambulance Corps to take them to the casualty clearing station. Once you reached this location, you could safely assume that your troubles had come to an end. All it needed was a cup of hot tea to make the injured soldier feel much better. After the seemingly endless days of nightmarish existence starving in the trenches, a cup of tea and the ministrations of female nurses felt like heaven. And then it was ‘Back for Blighty!’

 


 

This excerpt has been reproduced in arrangement with Harper Collins Publishers India Private Limited from the book The First World War Adventures of Nariman Karkaria: A Memoir written by Nariman Karkaria and translated by Murali Ranganathan. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying is strictly prohibited. You can buy the book here.

 

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The Commission of Enquiry

Two months after the surrender, a Commission of Enquiry was announced. This turned out to be just a smokescreen for displaying the so-called British sense of fair play and an attempt to cool the political temperature. It served more as a political tool than a judicial enquiry.

 

The mutiny was discussed in the Central Legislative Assembly on 22 and 23 February and by the Defence Consultative Committee on 8 March 1946. The navy had already appointed boards of enquiry to study the events at every individual establishment and ship in detail.

 

At this 8 March meeting the C-in-C of Indian armed forces, Claude Auchinleck, announced that he would recommend that the Government of India appoint a commission to enquire into the causes and origin of the mutiny.

 

Following this, an announcement was made by the Government of India in early April. ‘The Central government has been pleased to appoint a commission of enquiry to enquire into and report on the causes and origin of the recent mutinies in the Royal Indian Navy in February 1946.’

 

The Commission of Enquiry would have as chairman, the Honourable Sir Sayyid Fazl Ali, chief justice of the Patna High Court (Judge, Supreme Court of India [1951–52], later Governor of Orissa [1952–56], and Assam [1956–59]). The judicial members were Justice K.S. Krishnaswami Iyengar (chief justice, Cochin State), and Justice Meher Chand Mahajan (Chief Justice, Supreme Court of India, January 1954 to December 1954; prime minister Jammu and Kashmir [1947–48]; judge, Lahore High Court). The service members were Vice Admiral W.R. Patterson, Flag Officer Commanding, Cruiser Squadron in the East Indies Fleet and Major-General T.W. Rees, Indian Army, commanding the 4th Indian Division.

 

The secretary to the commission was Lt Col Visheshar Nauth Singh. Sardar Patel and Aruna Asaf Ali asked the well-known Bombay lawyer, Purshottam Tricumdas, president of the Ex- Services Association, to appear on behalf of the Congress Defence Committee.

 

It was decided that the proceedings would be public, unless the chairman decided that it was in public interest to hold some part in camera. A total of 229 witnesses were examined, and a large number of official documents were studied.

 

At Bombay and Karachi, members of the commission visited a number of naval establishments and ships to see their galleys and mess decks. They even tasted the food served to the ratings.

 

The commission held its first sitting on 18 April 1946 in Delhi. Its first witness was Lt Col. Malik Haq Nawaz of the Morale Directorate at the General HQ. He deposed that he saw seeds of unrest in December 1945, when he enquired into the state of morale of the officers and ratings in Bombay and Karachi. Along with Col A.A. Rudra, security liaison officer, who was the second witness, Nawaz admitted that racial discrimination and political awakening were the primary causes.

 

The proceedings of the committee were, like the INA trials, open to the public, but it turned out to be a prosaic affair by comparison to the dramatic INA trials. The commission concluded its sitting in Delhi on Saturday, 27 April. It moved to Bombay on the 2nd of May, where it sat on the third floor of the Bombay High Court.

 

The witnesses included the FOCRIN, Admiral J.H. Godfrey, who was examined on 22 April 1946. He was memorably pulled up by Justice Sayyid Fazl Ali when he contended, ‘But in this country where there is nothing like public opinion, not one word has been raised against this (ratings’ complaint of bad food)’. Hearing this, Justice Fazl Ali replied sharply, ‘I consider the statement made by you ill advised. Aren’t you prepared to revise your opinion?’ The admiral apologized.

 

Speaking about the causes of the mutiny itself, Admiral  Godfrey contended that left-wing Congressmen and Communists had considerable influence on the RIN ratings and this, along with the strong political spirit among many of the ratings, were the root causes which eventually led to the mutiny. The FOCRIN contended that media too had played its role with papers such as the Free Press Journal promoting anti-British feelings.

 

Ratings arrested credits https://news.abplive.com/blog/militants-strike-britain-out-the-1946-naval-indian-mutiny-1513953

 

Questioned about his controversial broadcast that had enraged the ratings to boiling point, Admiral Godfrey said that the broadcast was directed mainly at the mutineers in Bombay who had their guns trained on barracks and other establishments, and not towards the other ratings. He contended that such actions warranted the use of force and it was for this reason that large military forces were deployed in Bombay, along with two squadrons of Mosquitoes.

 

The atmosphere within the courtroom was very tense as Admiral Godfrey’s testimony continued through the day. He remained unapologetic about his actions, as he believed that force was the only means he had at his disposal to get the ratings to surrender unconditionally. At the same time, he expressed his regret that the RIN men had been made to return their kit when they were demobilized. This was not in the tradition of the British Navy, he admitted.

 

It was clear from Admiral Godfrey’s tone that he and other British officers firmly believed that the mutiny was pre-planned. How else could the ratings have had Congress, Muslim League and Communist Party flags at hand when they hoisted them on all the ships and shore establishments and lorries used by them? These flags were not on the ships, or readily available.

 

Admiral Godfrey also pointed that in Bombay there was a very good wireless organization between the shore establishments and ship-borne mutineers, which must have taken some time to work out. As a result, the HMIS Chamak in Karachi was ready for mutiny and only waiting for a signal from Bombay.

 

On their part, giving evidence few days later, the RIN ratings and others pointed out several fallacies in Admiral Godfrey’s testimony. They continued to emphasize that it was not a mutiny, but a mass strike against brutal treatment by the British officers, who routinely called them ‘bastards’ and assaulted them if they complained. Often, they claimed, the officers got drunk and slapped and kicked ratings who could not hit back.

 

Kusum Nair had been part of the uprising, albeit clandestinely. On Saturday, 27 April 1946 the Bombay Chronicle published a syndicated column under her pseudonym ‘Birbal’, which ridiculed Admiral Godfrey for saying that terrible food was not one of the causes of the mutiny.

 

The column also questioned Colonel Malik Haq Nawaz’s contentions that some of the most senior and outstanding leaders of the strike were Muslims, and said communal and provincial unity and harmony was one of the most marked features of the strike. Condemning the summary trial and sentencing of the ratings it alleged that the British put pressure on the police to forcibly put them on trains under custody, and then put them in jails of the respective districts to which they belonged. This was to ensure that these ratings could not depose in front of the commission.

 

On a lighter note, some of the ratings complained that while British seamen of Royal Navy were allowed to smoke on work, and take girls on dates outside the barracks, Indian ratings were punished if they ever dared to do that.

 

One of the early witnesses in Bombay, when the commission started its hearing on 2 May, was Lt Surendra Nath Kohli, who later become chief of naval staff. Well-built and smart, Kohli had joined the RIN in 1936 where he began his initial training in England and joined Talwar on 4 February 1946, barely a fortnight before the strike began.

 

At the time of the mutiny, he was the chief instructional officer. Thus, he was well-positioned to give an assessment of the state of the ratings’ minds before the mutiny. Cross examined on the first day, Kohli stated that he was one of the officers who had made reports about the mutiny to the CO.

 

Asked as to his opinions to the causes of the mutiny, he pointed to the officer and rating ratio. While there were 1,150 ratings in Talwar, there were just ten executive officers. These officers were technically qualified but lacked experience of sailing and administrative abilities to keep in proper touch with the ratings. More than double the number of officers was needed to maintain morale at the Talwar.

 

But this, he said, was a long-term problem and not the proximate cause.

 

Kohli believed the immediate trigger points was the arrest of B.C. Dutt, Commander King’s use of foul language, and the uncertainty caused by a poorly managed demobilization.

 

Some of the exchanges went like this:

 

Mr Justice Mahajan: We have been told that some of the British and Indian officers were having drinks and dances at the time these complaints (inedible food) were lodged. Is that correct?

Lt Surendra Nath Kohli: That is true. In the ratings’ club, though the dances are completely prohibited.

Justice Mahajan: Would you regard the arrest of Dutt for shouting ‘Jai Hind’ justifiable?

Kohli: If ‘Jai Hind’ is said to mean ‘Long Live India’, I feel his arrest was unjustifiable.

Kohli also agreed with the commission member, Major General Rees, that the more educated ratings were highly motivated and influenced by politics.

 

On Friday, 3 May 1946, Chief Petty Officer Sher Alam, master of arms at Mulund and drafting master of arms at Castle Barracks was the first witness. He was asked frivolous questions like, ‘I believe you are a chain smoker and that you spend as much as Rs 30 per month on smoking. How would you manage when you resign the service?’ His simple reply was, ‘Yes it will be difficult for me to maintain the same standard.’

 

Another leading telegraphist, E. D’Cullie narrated an incident when a telegraphist, fed up of constant abuse and ill treatment in Talwar, had committed suicide by hanging himself from a tree.

 

From Bombay the commission went to Poona and visited HMIS Shivaji at Lonavla, where 900 trainees had gone on strike in support of their brethren. On the way, they also inspected HMIS Akbar at Thana. After the weekend, the committee returned to Bombay where they interviewed more ratings.

 

Among them was nineteen-year-old P.G. Bokle, a Saraswat Brahmin who complained that when he joined the navy his sacred thread (janeyu) had been cut off as he was told that in the navy no rating could wear the thread. Bokle also claimed that he was called an ‘Indian bastard’ on many occasions by British officers.

 

In a startling statement on Thursday, 9 May 1946, Lt Mahendra Pal Singh of the HMIS Clive, a training ship in Bombay, contended that the COs of various ships on hearing the first rumbles of the mutiny became ‘funky’ and ran away from their posts ‘to rest in peace and return after a couple of days.’ The officers did not bother to show leadership but instead were content to hide themselves in the confines of the nearby Sea Green Hotel on Marine Drive.

 

Asked if the situation that first took place aboard the Talwar could have been averted, Singh said it could have been. ‘The situation in the Talwar would have been averted if the authorities had sent officers who had the confidence of the ratings to handle the situation, such men as Lt Hassan or Lt Batra. But instead, they sent Lt Kohli and Lt Nanda, who were hooted out by the ratings.’

 

‘It is my personal opinion that when officers became unpopular there is something definitely wrong with them.’ He added: ‘The allegation that the strike was pre-planned was totally untrue.’

 

He also denied that the Congress and League flags that were hoisted on the ships and establishments during the mutiny were purchased from the market. He deposed these were made on the ships itself, from parts of other flags. All the posters that were seen were put up only after the mutiny had started.

 

Another Indian officer, Lt Ghatak, speaking from his personal experience said: ‘Although the Indian and British officers messed together, British always sat on one side.’ Excessive drinking and disorderly behaviour under the influence of liquor brought the officers into contempt with their men. Dances and parties had often been the subject of derisive comments among the ratings.

 

Testifying in Bombay on Monday, 13 May 1946, a leading telegraphist bitterly complained about the medical officers who instead of taking care of the ratings ended up harming and even getting them killed through sheer callousness. Giving the example of a deceased rating, Gulam Hussein, he stated that Hussein had complained of acute abdominal pain to a doctor who instead of giving him medicine advised to take a swift run around the courtyard. Putting faith in the doctor’s ‘prescription’, Hussein ran around once and then dropped dead. But his death did not change the attitude of the doctors.

 

The most startling testimony the commission heard was probably from Ahmed K. Brohi. A customs clerk before he joined the navy as a telegraphist, Brohi was arrested as soon as the mutiny ended and first put in Mulund camp before being transferred to the  dreaded Kalyan camp.

 

Termed one of the kingpins in the RIN Mutiny as joint secretary of the NCSC, Brohi appeared before the commission in a dark brown jacket and white shorts, sporting a small unkempt beard. Calm and collected, Brohi spoke in a low determined voice which made his testimony all the more compelling.

 

‘Have you ever noticed why we like to read Russian literature or why communism is spreading in India at atomic speed? Why do we not read instead French literature? We are not revolutionary because we have fallen in love with the reds of Moscow but because we know they are the staunch enemies of your system of government, which has proved to be a second edition of Nazimrule.

 

Our aim, ambition, and future policy is to revolt against British imperialism.’

 

Naval Uprising Memorial, Bombay, Credits- Wikipedia.

 

Questioned by the committee as to the strike and his role in it, Brohi had this to say.
Q. Did you know that the strike was to begin on the 18th of February?
A. I knew only by intuition, it was only an accident that the strike occurred that day. In my mind, the 17th of February has got some association. On that date in 1942, 30,000 Indian soldiers were handed over to the Japanese in Singapore by their British colonel. That made me think it had something to do with INA. Yes, some INA literature was distributed among the ratings.

 

When asked why he did not report his misgivings to higher authorities, he replied, ‘I am not a member of the CID.’ During his testimony, Brohi read out a long statement to the commission, which was termed as a ‘fine essay’ by the chairman, Justice Fazl Ali.

 

In his written statement, Brohi said the main causes for the strike were: the INA trials, disappointing demobilization conditions, hatred of the British, the Indonesian issue where Indian ratings were reluctant to fight for the Dutch colonizers agains the Indonesians, the RIAF strike, free availability of communist literature, and press propaganda regarding disturbances specially in Calcutta, loose discipline in HMIS Talwar, and the abusive language of Commander King.

 

Impressed by his statement, Justice Fazl Ali asked how long it took him to write the statement. Brohi’s short reply was: ‘Six hours.’ Speaking during his cross-examination, Brohi said, ‘Mischiefmongers among the RIN strikers in February last, signalled to ships in Bombay harbour to open fire, and if the men on the ships had done so thinking that the instructions had come from responsible persons, terrible havoc would have been caused.’

 

Purshottam Tricumdas then asked him for further elucidation of the statement to which Brohi replied that he was referring to some signals given from the Gateway of India and Ballard Pier to ships to open fire.

 

Confirming what others had said, Brohi also categorically stated that 99 per cent of the ratings were interested in politics, and bore deep hatred against the British. They also felt that like the INA personnel, they wanted to do something outstanding for the country.

 

Brohi went on to blame national leaders for misguiding the ratings by preaching non-violence to men who had been taught to fight. So, national leaders were responsible in a big way. ‘Till the moment the ratings took up the arms, the national leaders were red hot in their speeches. But when the ratings actually took up the arms, what did they find? The leaders began to talk of non-violence. How could men trained in warfare think in terms of spinnin wheels? How could men taught to kill take up the charkha?’

 

During cross-examination, Brohi contended that despite everything the strike would have remained peaceful if the British had not pushed the men into taking up arms.

 

He pointed out that the British had imprisoned B.C. Dutt and R.K. Singh – heroes to many of the ratings. He added, ‘Government forced them to take up arms. They imprisoned their brothers. They stopped the water and food supply. The ratings therefore had no other way but to take up arms. Admiral Godfrey made his threat to sink the navy and this made the ratings adamant. I do not mind what will happen to me in the future, whether I live or whether I receive bullets in my chest, but the butchering of so many of my comrades will ever haunt my memory in days to come.’

 

On being asked by Justice Mahajan which newspapers incited the mutiny, he named the Free Press Journal, the Bombay Chronicle, and Blitz. ‘The ratings were dead against imperialism. Indeed, British imperialism was a second edition of Nazi rule. Hence the ratings looked for a friend, everybody who was anti-imperialist. They know of the historic Mutiny of 1857.’

 

Basant Singh, one of the ratings transferred to and detained at the Kalyan camp, deposing in front of the commission on 14May, stated: ‘Some kind of matters and literature about INA, Subhas Bose’s pictures and pamphlets such as “Blood and Thunder” were freely distributed among the ratings. The situation in India was peculiar. Political prisoners had been released, INA trial had started. In some respects, we became jealous of the INA deeds. They are being worshipped as heroes. But we are looked down upon as British stooges and despised. We too are patriots. We wanted to make clear to the public what we wanted to do and we struck work.’

 

The other notable witness after this was B.C. Dutt, the man who had started the mutiny by writing nationalist slogans on the walls of the Talwar. Testifying before the commission, Dutt described serving in the naval service in India as a ‘living hell’.

 

Dutt claimed that he was disillusioned by his life in the navy and wrote of this in a letter to his brother, which was found and heavily censored and he himself was threatened with dismissal. A diary seized from Dutt’s locker in the Talwar was produced in the court. It contained references to a ‘boss’, ‘HQ’ and to a ‘Whisp Camp’. The last, Dutt explained, meant ‘Whispering Campaign’ and referred to his effort to educate other ratings.

 

Dismissing the charges of mutiny, Dutt claimed that he was charged with political affiliation solely because at the time of his arrest when his locker was searched, a communist book was found. British records reveal that when Dutt’s locker was opened and searched, a number of articles and papers that included two diaries, a receipt for Rs 206 from Azad Hind Army Relief fund, a copy of INA pledge and a book on the Indian Mutiny of 1857 by Asoka Mehta, and a letter on a postcard from the secretary of the Indian Ex-Services Association Y.K. Menon were found. Clearly, this was all much more than just a ‘communist book’.

 

During his testimony, Dutt refused to answer questions on a few occasions saying he had already stated the answers before the Board of Enquiry, which had inquired into the Talwar incident. However, he was more forthcoming on his political beliefs. On being asked when he gained a liking for political activity, Dutt replied that after joining the navy he had the opportunity of visiting places, mixing with British soldiers and seeing how people lived in free countries. That is how his interest in politics began.

 

‘When Indians are struggling for freedom, I think every Indian should join in the struggle… I would have joined the INA, if I was in Malaya.

 

Balai Chand Dutt, Credit- Twitter

 

Questioned about his views on the ‘Azad Hindis’ and the fact that they were referred to as ‘Dutt and his group’, Dutt had little to say. The question was: This cadre (Azad Hindis) would join no political organization but would infiltrate into all services. Do you agree with this?

Answer: ‘For the cause of freedom anything can be done.’

 

He did add, ‘I would take the Azad Hind Fauj pledge as all Indians should,’ and he pointed out that all the ratings had contributed to the INA fund. He was however, quick to emphasize that the mutiny started in spite of him, as he was under detention on 17 February.

 

While Dutt was most forthcoming about his interest in politics, he was understandably less so about the entries in his diary. When asked about his visits to ‘N’, and ‘HQ’, he purposely gave misleading answers stating N stood for Nambiar, who was not in Bombay, and not Lt Nayyar, and HQ stood for the Headquarter of Communist Party on Sandhurst Road (and not to any headquarters of any secret organization). In reality this was the Riviera, Marine Drive home of Kusum and P.N. Nair where all the planning for the mutiny was done.

 

Q. Do you remember that you gave a book called March of Events to Rishi Dev Puri?

A. I had some books at the signal school and sometimes he used to give me one or two books, but I can’t remember what happened to this book. So many things have happened after that.

Q. On 3 January you entered in your diary: ‘Went with Devu to HQ.’ May I suggest that it was Lt Nair’s flat?

A. No.

 

In this way, Dutt continued his bid to mislead and stonewall the commission. When asked about the ‘Whisp Camp’ reference in his diary, he said it meant ‘whispering campaign’ which was to educate some ratings about the history of the Indian National Congress and not to excite them. Asked about references in the diary to meetings with RIAF men, Dutt explained that these were made in connection with the formation of Ex-Services Association. In reality though, the British contended that Dutt was meeting them at the Nairs’ home in a bid to get them to support and join the RIN Mutiny. The material seized from Dutt’s locker was placed before the commission as exhibits.

 

As the cross-examinations continued, other interesting stories emerged. One of these was about Lieutenant J.A.G. Tottham who testified as one of the witnesses at Kalyan camp on 1 May 1946. In his evidence, Tottham related an incident, which highlighted the contempt and lack of trust the British held for Indians:

 

‘In the Persian Gulf one of our leading signalmen reported one evening at 5.30 p.m. that he had sighted three suspected German U-Boats. This was subsequently reported to the senior officer commanding at Bandar Abbas, who asked for the name, ranking and the ability of the rating who had reported. He was told “RIN rating, signalman of very good ability.” (On hearing that he was an Indian), we got back the reply, “Do not rely much upon RIN leading signalman’s report.” The same night, in that very area, three ships were sunk. The commander in the Persian Gulf stationed at Basra put an enquiry board on it and the officers in Bandar Abbas practically told us “to keep our mouths shut about the incident”.’

 

By 16 May, almost 100 witnesses, Indian and British, had been cross-examined. Another interesting witness was Commander S.G. Karmarkar who was transferred from an establishment in Lonavla to HMIS Talwar on 19 February after the outbreak of the mutiny. This was the Indian officer who had kept an eye on the Riviera ‘HQ’ from his flat in the same building. He deposed that there was no serious ground for the mutiny. The grievances and discontent, he claimed, were not of a serious nature. He blamed political influence for the mutiny. He said he believed the prime cause was acute political tension in the country.

 

Karmarkar added that the other trigger was the effect of articles published in newspapers. He admitted that he had got threatening letters from the ratings stating that if he did not mend his ways of siding with British officers, they would ‘make Commander King out of him’.

 

He admitted that when in Bombay, he stayed in a building at Marine Drive. ‘Until recently Mr Nayyar, formerly a lieutenant in the navy, lived in the same building, and he noticed that ratings visited Nayyars.’

 

Despite his full support to the British and the navy, he said: ‘Alleged abusive language of Commander King was another incentive for the Mutiny.’ He also admitted that the effect of Admiral Godfrey’s threat to destroy the navy was unfavourable.

 

There were some lighter moments when Karmarkar was cross examined.

Justice: You said that the WRINS (Women ratings of Royal India Navy) had preferential treatment.

A. Fortunately I had nothing to do with WRINS [laughter].

Tricumdas: Is it wrong on the part of the ratings to meet a politician?

A. It depends upon the type of political leaders he meets [laughter].

Q. You met Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru. Is Pandit Nehru a safe person? [Laughter]

Karmarkar did not reply.

Q. When you met Pandit Nehru, was a British intelligence officer with you? A.

You may ask Pandit Nehru himself [loud laughter].

 

Captain Inigo-Jones was the CO of the Castle Barracks until 18 February. On the 18th he was sent to the Talwar to take over from Commander King. He was described by a young rating before the commission as ‘Butcher of the RIN’. His testimony added some colour to the proceedings. Inigo-Jones repeatedly wore a monocle to read extracts from his statement made before the Board of Enquiry at the HMIS Talwar. When asked if he had made those statements, he replied, ‘I presume so.’

 

Lt Sachdev was a colleague of Lt Batra at the Talwar during the mutiny. Both of them were well-liked by the ratings as they were sympathetic to their grievances. Testifying before the commission he said, ‘It was the frustration of the ratings’ representation to the junior officers, and the frustration of the junior officers’ representation to the authorities, which suddenly exploded into the Mutiny.’

* * *

 

The most striking testimony from the British officers’ side was that of Commander Frederick William King, CO of the Talwar until 18 February. Giving his testimony on Monday, 20 May 1946, King denied his use of foul language was one of the reasons for the mutiny, and denied having used any foul language at all.

 

He asserted that there was not just the political but revolutionary movement behind the mutiny. ‘Unfortunately, navy was not in a position to show them the other side of the picture.’ King said the revolutionary fervour only grew especially when on a particular day the ‘Quit India’ slogan was found written on his motor car and the tyres deflated. He regarded this as a serious act of sabotage and consequently tried to get the number of ratings reduced.

 

Replying to a question if he knew any of those fourteen ratings who had complained against him, King replied that he did not remember having seen any of them. When asked if his administration had through being over-strict, created resentment, King replied that the ratings themselves had his deepest sympathy, especially Dutt who was very clever and who would do credit to any navy.

 

‘Most of the complaints against me were influenced by outsiders. I tried to call them to my office but it’s very different when there are a large number of men involved and they are refusing to take orders from their immediate senior.’

Q. It has been stated in the evidence before us that when you came to know of the trouble, you gave no instructions to the officers.

A. All that is in the report of the Talwar enquiry. When I came to know of the trouble, I visited Vithal House. I saw the admiral there. He did not give me any instructions. He may have said, “Try to get hold of the representatives of the ratings” and that is what I have been trying to do.’

Q. You stated in the Talwar enquiry that some catcalls were made against the WRINS. What were they like?

A. I can’t imitate the calls.

Q. What was the implication behind them?

A. It was embarrassing for the women – bad discipline and bad manners.

When Chairman Fazl Ali asked if the accusation that he was accustomed to using bad language was correct, King replied he sometimes used ‘friendly language to his friends’.

Q. Which may not be parliamentary?

A. May not be.

Fazl Ali: You cannot categorically refute that you use language that may not be parliamentary, and may be misconstrued as bad language.

A: I use words occasionally which are not in the dictionary. Some words are more expressive.

 

Sayyid Fazl Ali then read out a statement by Lt Nanda before the Talwar board of enquiry which stated: ‘Have had quite a lot of conclave (sic) with Commander King. I have heard him very often use bad language, which comes to him unintentionally. Commander King explained he sometimes expressed himself freely.’

 

Testifying next before the commission was Lt S.M. Nanda (then a divisional officer in the HMIS Talwar, and later the navy chief). Lt Nanda stated that he had gone to Vallabhbhai Patel during the mutiny and gathered from him that Lt Nayyar and Mrs Aruna Asaf Ali had approached Sardar Patel to get the support of the Congress for the mutineers and that they had been disappointed. He also stated that ratings wanted Mrs Asaf Ali to mediate between them and the authorities.

 

Speaking in support of Commander King, Lt Nanda categorically said ‘No’, when asked if Commander King’s statement that ‘ratings would not mind overcrowding if they got good food’ was indeed true. On the actions of mutiny, he was more forthcoming.

 

Lt Nanda emphatically said that the writing of slogans in Talwar on the eve of Navy Day was not the work of certain disgruntled ratings. ‘It was the work of some organized body which was trying to disrupt the discipline of the establishment in general, and to rouse feelings against the government and to magnify the service grievances.’ He also emphasized that the presence of revolutionary elements in Talwar was well known.

 

‘On the Navy Day the slogan writing was in full form and the officers were quite handicapped on how to put a check upon it. The indifferent attitude of the authorities towards the hunger strike at two messes added fuel to the fire. Lt Cole and myself volunteered to speak with the ratings. I asked the ratings that the authorities wanted to know their grievances. I also asked them to appoint representatives from amongst themselves, but they resented the idea and expressed a keen desire to have some national political leader represent them.’

 

Members of the Ex-Services Association, the organization accused of having political affiliations with the mutineers, also came forward to testify before the commission. It was here that Lt Commander Powar, a member of the commission, who was said to be a British sympathizer, began aggressively cross-questioning the witnesses.

 

Lt Powar asked Lt Nanda if a rating in the Talwar named Rishi Dev, was related to Lt Nayyar, an officer in Talwar. To that Justice Mahajan interrupted that Rishi Dev was a Puri, a Punjabi Brahmin (incidentally incorrect because Puris are Punjabi Khatri) and that Nayyars came from South India (also incorrect because this Nayyar was also a Punjabi). This remark led to some laughter in the court. Lt Cdr Powar sat down, protesting that every time he puts a question, he is ridiculed.

 

The next interesting witness was an officer of the Indian army, Lt Sachdev. The commission first asked whether he was a member of the Ex-Services Association and then read out a resolution passed by them on 20 February 1946 supporting the mutiny. Did he, they asked Lt Sachdev, know of this resolution? If so, did he condone it?

 

In reply Lt Sachdev said he was a member of the association but did not support this resolution. He was then asked.

 

Q. Who took you to the meeting?

A. I was told by Lt Commander Arland to go over there.

The commission then drew attention to the picture published in the Blitz. It was a picture of Jayaprakash Narayan with Lt Chandramani of the RIN, while contingents of the three Indian services gave the guard of honour.

Asked for his comments on the picture, Lt Sachdev simply replied, ‘I want to keep aloof from the party politics.’ Sachdev continued to play this game of cat and mouse until finally a question came up that ended all doubts about his loyalties.

Q. Do you realize under what government you are serving?

A. Yes, it is the British government of which we are all slaves… We are ruled by the Britishers as slaves and I do mean what I say.

 

Y.K. Menon, secretary of the Indian Ex-Services Association was the next important witness to be cross-examined. He described himself as author, journalist, correspondent of many foreign papers and contributor to the Tribune (which until recently had been associated with Sir Stafford Cripps). During his cross-examination, he mentioned that the association was mainly concerned with the resettlement of discharged servicemen and it would be wrong and libellous to say that one of its objects was to subvert the loyalty of people in the armed forces. There was no political tinge to the association.

 

Menon also pointed out that the association was formed on 20 February, which was after the mutiny had already broken out and that the resolution passed by the association to congratulate the strikers was not political but a humanitarian one. It should be viewed in that context.

 

He explained that the first meeting of fourteen persons was held on 17 December 1945 to consider a Draft Constitution. After four such provisional meetings, the association came into existence on 20 February 1946, when a resolution expressing sympathy towards the RIN strikers was also carried by the house. He said the association had almost 1,000 members in Bombay alone.

 

Both Tricumdas and Menon put up a strong effort before the commission to prove that the Ex-Services Association was not a political body and not responsible for the RIN Mutiny. They cited examples of other organizations such as the Indian Merchants Chamber, the Forward Bloc, British Portuguese Chamber of Commerce, and other important organizations, which were represented by well-known members of these bodies when they conducted a joint meeting.

 

Dr P.A. Wadia, a noted economist, was present as well in this 20 February meeting, where Mrs Lilavati Munshi was in the chair and a small committee was formed to collect funds. Some other prominent people who attended the meeting were Mr Gazdar representing the Tatas, Mrs Violet Alva of the Forum, wellknown actor Prithviraj Kapoor, and Miss Lynette Solomon of the Bombay Sentinel.

 

It had been decided that Jayaprakash Narayan should be invited to inaugurate the fund and Tricumdas mentioned that it was recommended that the association should seek support from the government of Bombay and the collector of Bombay. He even suggested that it should work hand-in-hand with the district sailors, airmen and soldiers’ association of which the collector was the chairman.

 

Menon denied that the association in any way was political in nature and that it had any hand in the mutiny though there were many members who had associations with the navy. Tricumdas added that the Ex-Services Association was moved by the pitiable condition of the demobbed soldiers and navy men. It was with the intention of doing some good for them that the association was formed.

 

Judge advocate Powar asked Menon: ‘If non-violence were to fail would you believe in violent methods?’ Without even a hint of hesitation, Menon answered, ‘I would,’ and emphatically added that he would adopt any means to get freedom. He, however, denied that he knew Dutt before the mutiny nor could he single him out in a crowd. Menon admitted, however, that he did know R.D. Puri.

 

The next witness was Prem Nath (P.N.) Nair, or Nayyar. Formerly a welfare officer in the HMIS Talwar, Nayyar stated that he joined the navy ‘as he loved the sea’ but left it when he found that conditions there were terrible.

 

‘I have never seen more callous people who have utter disregard for human sentiments as in the navy,’ he shared. However, he denied taking part in any subversive activities saying such accusations were baseless.

 

Nayyar, however, was quick to point out the follies and discriminatory practices carried out by the British. Talking about racial prejudice, he said that a young British officer, Lt Horabin, who was a favourite with everyone in the Talwar, fell into disfavour after he married an Indian girl whom he loved. His wife was never invited to any of the naval functions or parties just because he had married a ‘black girl’.

 

Indian ratings during RIN mutiny, credits- https://www.newsintervention.com/a-mutiny-that-petrified-london/

 

By 23 May 1946 the commission had completed three weeks in Bombay and, according to local newspaper reports, its hearings were humdrum affairs. It needed Mrs Nair, the only lady witness to be called, to inject some excitement into the proceedings.

 

Smartly dressed, Kusum Nair’s answers delivered with quick confidence impressed everyone and she lent the commission an aura of glamour, which had hitherto been missing. One of the prominent visitors in the packed courtroom when she was examined, was Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay, former president of the All-India Women’s Conference.

 

Describing herself formerly a member of the Women’s Auxiliary Corps (India) [WAC (I)] Mrs Nair also stated that she was a journalist and the owner of a newspaper syndicate company in Bombay. Asked for her views on the mutiny, she said the mutiny was entirely an internal matter, and credit or discredit for it should go to the ratings.

 

Then asked to account for her movements, she admitted that she was seen near the HMIS Talwar on 22 February, and at Castle Barracks and other places in Bombay during the days of the mutiny. But she said she went there only to fulfil her journalistic duties.

 

Reiterating the objectives of Menon, Kusum Nair said the common man felt that the armed forces should participate in the freedom struggle and added daringly that she believed that it was the patriotic duty of every Indian to fight for freedom. Though she denied knowing B.C. Dutt, she admitted she knew R.D. Puri.

 

Kusum Nair’s true sentiments came to the fore though when she stated that she felt sure that demobbed personnel would join the armed forces of free India at half their current salary. Questioned about a message attributed to her that the ratings should salute Azad Hind style, she denied it. She also admitted that an article ‘Indian Mutiny’ had been sent out through her syndicate.

 

No one could be in any doubt as to where her sympathies lay. Kusum Nair’s statements were all the more impressive given the cross-examination that Lt Commander Powar the judge-advocate, and a supporter of the British, subjected her to.

 

He pointed towards her writings in an INA pamphlet, ‘Even the armed forces are in a ferment.’ She replied that she was referring to the RIAF strikes, the arrest of B.C. Dutt, and the statement to that effect by Auchinleck in the Assembly, concluding: ‘I hadn’t the faintest idea that there would be widespread trouble in RIN.’

 

Powar, however, was determined to drive her to admit that she had full knowledge about the strike from beforehand. However, she was unperturbed. Being asked by him about a quotation in a piece distributed under her pen-name Birbal, which said: ‘Just wait for the next struggle. The fighting forces will walk over next time,’ she replied with authority, ‘This is an assurance to the Congress leaders that the armed forces are with the country… If there is a mass uprising, I think every Indian should participate in the struggle.’

 

However, Powar was not done yet. He then asked her, ‘Were you in sympathy with the strikers?’ a dangerous and leading question. Circumventing it with ease, she said, ‘I tried to do my best to help the situation. I even went personally to Sardar Patel and persuaded him to use his good offices with the authorities and with the boys to stop it.’

 

Kusum Nair was a rock-solid witness on the stand. None of the commission’s questions could shake her. On being asked accusingly by Vice Admiral Patterson that if she agreed, or was willing to concede that a reading of her political views in print would weaken the loyalty of the armed forces, and might have incited the mutiny, she replied firmly in the negative. She also said she believed that the mutiny was a spontaneous action by the ratings themselves.

 

‘No political organization could have commanded the mutiny. If an organization like the Indian National Congress could not influence the Muslims during August 1942 (Quit India Movement), when there was a spontaneous action and mass upsurge all over the country and even the army remained aloof from the struggle, how could outside political influence have any affect during February 1946, when the international situation was far more favourable to the government than in 1942?’

 

* * *

 

Everyone was most interested to hear the testimonies of the mutineers themselves. The commission cross-examined Lt Sobhani, the only officer to be arrested and punished for ‘making seditious speeches’ and ‘inciting other fellow officers’. Facing court martial on twelve charges, he was brought from a naval prison to appear before the commission under guard. Asked about the causes for the RIN mutiny, Subhani said that strike was due to long frustration among the ratings.

 

The newspapers gave wide coverage to the Commission of Enquiry proceedings and revealed some interesting sidelights. The column ‘Twilight Twitters’ (Bombay Sentinel, 17 May), was ironical. ‘You will hardly believe – That Ahmed Brohi told RIN Court that politics was a vast and confusing subject. Who said it was also the last refuge of a scoundrel?

 

‘That Telegraphist Brohi told the commission that as it was accustomed to deal with criminal cases, it suspected everything under the sun. Another way of saying a man is known by the company he keeps?

 

‘That the witness informed the judges if he had good memory, he would have been the premier of some province. Brohi should know that Premiers have short memories, as they forget their election promises.’ The commission concluded its last hearing on Saturday, 1 June 1946 in Karachi after five consecutive days of sitting in Muslim Hostel. It examined over forty witnesses there, including two COs, and three other officers. Commander A.K. Chatterji, CO of Chamak was the first witness on the last day, and the last to be examined was Jaswant Singh, a rating who was discharged and had recently emerged from jail after serving a term of imprisonment.

 

After concluding the cross-examination in Karachi, the commission left for Simla on Tuesday, 4 June 1946, to draft the report. It was expected that the report would be submitted to the government within a month. The report was duly submitted in October but it was not made public until the third week of January 1947. Even now, it’s not entirely clear if the full report has been placed in the public domain, although 598 pages of it are available.

 

The Times of India and other newspapers carried excerpts from the report on 21 January 1947. Wrote the TOI: ‘The lessons of the mutiny, the government say are, first, that officers must consider the welfare of their men before their own comfort or safety and that grievances must not be explained away but redressed and, secondly, too rapid an expansion without proper provision for the training of officers is unwise, and the aim for the services in peace must be to prepare for expansion in war. ‘

 

The government mentioned that the inquiry commission is unanimous that the basic cause of the mutiny was widespread discontent arising mainly from a number of service grievances which had remained un-redressed for some time and were aggravated by the political situation.

 

‘With references to politics, the Government of India expresses their belief that healthy interest in the affairs of the country is to be encouraged but that the use of politics as a lever to get the grievances redressed is highly dangerous and must be discouraged in the interest of the service.

 

‘Officers and men are being instructed that although every man is entitled to his personal views, participation in party politics is not admissible to members of such a service.’

 

The report stated as follows: Nine ratings, one officer, killed (34 were missing and reported as deserter), 41 ratings and one officer wounded. [Looking at the scale of mayhem this appeared to be highly understated data.]

 

It further concluded

1. Mutiny was not organized by outside agency. It was not pre-planned.

2. Politics and political influence had great effect in unsettling the men’s loyalty and in preparing the ground for the mutiny and its prolongation.

3. The glorification of the INA had undoubtedly the most unsettling effect on the morale of the men of the services.

4. The mutiny never assumed the shape of a political revolt.

5. Naval authorities did not take more active steps before the mutiny.

6. FOB Rear-Admiral Rattray did not step in over Commander King’s head on hearing of the complaint about his conduct.

7. The duty officer in Talwar did not take active steps on 17/18 February over food and did not bring the grievances to the attention of Flag Officer Bombay.

8. There was indecision and inaction on the part of Commander King.

9. There was delay in taking action on 18 February by FOB, CO and other officers.

10. FOB Rattray failed to isolate Talwar and prevent rumours, which often becomes news and did not prevent news from travelling.

 

‘It seems to us,’ the commission said, ‘that but for these mistakes this great catastrophe which caused so much damage, suffering and bloodshed, which has ruined so many young lives and careers which have left so much unhappiness and bitterness in the services would not have occurred.’

 

The naval authorities, as a result of the report issued the following instructions:

1. European officers will be encouraged by all means to acquire a full knowledge of their men not only in the services but in their homes too.

2. Everything possible is being done to eliminate any suspicion of racial discrimination and Indian officers are being posted to the command of the ships or to posts of executive officer in ships, and to higher staff appointments, as they acquire sufficient seniority and experience.

 

The Free Press Journal of 21 January 1947 carried the headline ‘ALL STEPS TO REDRESS GRIEVANCES of RIN, Government Assurance. FORGET THE PAST NOW AND LOOK TO THE FUTURE…’

 

The FPJ further added that only Indians should be selected for permanent commission and the present naval canteens should be improved in India. It also deplored the fact that the report ignored the victimized men.

 

‘The Report may have generally satisfied the Navy but has been severely criticized by the officers for recommending nationalization of the navy. The ratings, and ex-ratings are unhappy and despondent over non-references to the “victimized young men called as mutineers” and that they are not in general viewed favourably by the men of the navy.’

 

Aruna Asaf Ali criticized the report, ‘The interim government’s steps to implement the recommendations have curiously enough the white man’s touch about them. There is surprisingly enough no reference to measures for reinstating of ratings discharged for mutiny… The tragic chapter in the RIN history could very well have become grim if the ratings had continued their resistance. They surrendered only after they were assured by eminent leaders now in the interim government that no vindictive action would be taken against them. Many were court martialled and many more were dismissed summarily.’

 

Aruna also added that the commission’s conclusions suggest that the causes that led to RIN revolt were related to genuine grievances.

 

‘This justification is further upheld by the government’s somewhat reluctant admission that the mutiny “may not be entirely without good results”. After having realized this, to ignore the men who risked their lives to revolutionize this denationalized branch of India’s fighting services is to submit to the arguments of the White bosses of India.’

 

She further said, ‘Left to himself the British Admiral would not have hesitated to destroy the entire Indian Navy for reasons of prestige. …or again to be apologetic about these individuals who owing to war and post war strain acted mistakenly.’

 

In a narrow sense, the enquiry did lead to better service conditions for Indians on other ranks in the RIN. But it ignored the way in which the ratings had been mistreated, imprisoned and summarily dismissed, without receiving their dues.

 

This excerpt has been carried courtesy the permission of Roli Books. You can buy 1946 Royal Indian Navy Mutiny: Last War of Independencehere.

 

 

ARCHIVE

Violence of the State

Like inequality, violence too has always been a part of human history, although its forms, scale, and intensity have varied. The advent of the state ushered major changes in the structures for its perpetuation and control. The theory that the Harappan civilization was a peaceful culture held together by tradition rather than force can be questioned on the basis of finds of weaponry and walled citadels. In later centuries too, cities continued to be surrounded by fortification walls, indicating the need for defence against military attack.

 

As discussed in Chapter 1, Rig Vedic hymns contain many references to violent conflicts among the arya tribes and between the aryas on the one hand and dasas and dasyus on the other. Later Vedic royal rituals such as the rajasuya, ashvamedha, and vajapeya, which included ritual contests between the king and his kinsmen, must have been scripted on the lines of actual, bloody contests for power. Aryavarta, a land inhabited by the culturally superior aryas, was distinguished from that of the uncivilized people of the east. The aryas also distinguished themselves from mlechchhas or barbarians, a category that included foreigners and tribals. Apart from the textual references to warfare, weapons found at archaeological sites in various parts of India in second and first millennium BCE contexts indicate the endemic nature of war.

 

The sixth/fifth century BCE was not only the age of Mahavira and the Buddha; it was also a period of warring states. The sixteen mahajanapadas (great states) included rajyas (kingdoms) and ganas or sanghas (oligarchies) which were constantly engaged in internecine war. This was a period of military transition when hereditary warriors were being increasingly replaced by a recruited and salaried class of soldiers. The story of the rise of the kingdom of Magadha in eastern India is a bloody one. Bimbisara, king of the Haryanka dynasty, had the title ‘Seniya’ (one who has an army). He is said to have been killed by his son Ajatashatru, and the latter’s four successors were also patricides. The short-lived Shaishunaga dynasty that followed met a violent end. Then came the Nandas. Mahapadma, the first Nanda king, was militarily successful and expanded the Magadhan kingdom. Dhanananda, the last Nanda ruler, was greedy, cruel, and unpopular and was overthrown by Chandragupta Maurya. Chandragupta and his son Bindusara fought wars to expand the Maurya empire. The third Maurya king, Ashoka, is known in history for his pacifism and patronage of Buddhism, but the four-year gap between his accession and consecration and the reference in Buddhist texts to his killing ninety-nine brothers (clearly hyperbole!) suggest a prolonged and violent succession struggle. When the curtain rises on the political history of early historic South India in the third century BCE, it reveals the Chola, Chera, and Pandya kings warring among themselves and with many less powerful chieftains.

 

The sixth/fifth century BCE was not only the age of Mahavira and the Buddha; it was also a period of warring states. The sixteen mahajanapadas (great “states) included rajyas (kingdoms) and ganas or sanghas (oligarchies) which were constantly engaged in internecine war. This was a period of military transition when hereditary warriors were being increasingly replaced by a recruited and salaried class of soldiers.

 

It would be tedious (and unnecessary) to list all the wars fought in ancient India. The pervasiveness of violence and war is woven into the history of the rise and fall of dynasties, kingdoms, and empires over the centuries. There is no eye-witness reportage, but it can be assumed that ancient wars involved killing, looting, and raping. This is what armies have often been known to do, across cultures, across time. There is no such thing as a non-violent war. Ancient warfare would also have involved capturing prisoners of war and reducing them to slavery. The functions of the prashasti (praise of the king) in royal inscriptions include giving an impression of smooth and seamless political transitions; concealing violent intra-dynastic conflicts; celebrating the king’s military victories and omitting his defeats; and tempering his martial image and achievements with pacific and benevolent attributes. So the increase of political violence was accompanied by increasingly sophisticated attempts to legitimize, invisibilize, and aestheticize it.

 

There is no such thing as a non-violent war. Ancient warfare would also have involved capturing prisoners of war and reducing them to slavery. The functions of the prashasti (praise of the king) in royal inscriptions include giving an impression of smooth and seamless political transitions; concealing violent intra-dynastic conflicts; celebrating the king’s military victories and omitting his defeats; and tempering his martial image and achievements with pacific and benevolent attributes. So the increase of political violence was accompanied by increasingly sophisticated attempts to legitimize, invisibilize, and aestheticize it.

 

Apart from warfare, certain forms of coercion and violence were, and still are, inherent in the state. Throughout history, states have been based on the systematic appropriation of economic and human resources from subjects. There may be no agricultural tax in India today, but in ancient Indian agrarian societies, rulers took a share of the surplus agricultural produce in the form of taxes. Extracting taxes on a regular basis involved coercion and the threat or actual use of force. The harnessing of labour for state projects also involved coercion.

 

Theories of the origin of kingship in the Agganna Sutta of the Buddhist Digha Nikaya and the Shanti Parva of the Mahabharata highlight the relationship between the king and his subjects. They describe people handing over taxes to the king in return for his performing certain duties, especially maintaining social order and preventing crime and violence. Many texts describe one-sixth of the produce as the king’s share and advise the ruler to be fair and moderate while levying taxes. This fiction of a voluntary social contract between the king and his subjects deliberately conceals the coercion that was involved in making farmers pay taxes.

Ashoka’s visit to the Ramagrama Stupa, Sanchi Stupa, 1 Southern Gateway. Wikipedia Commons

Violence was also inherent in the interactions of ancient Indian states with forest people. The expansion of agriculture, cities, and states involved a steady clearance of forests, but the most massive forest clearance took place in the middle of the nineteenth century as a result of population increase, commercial farming, and the expansion of the railways. Till then, states lived cheek by jowl with forest tribes. Extracting and controlling valuable economic and military resources like wood, ivory, and elephants involved a steady encroachment on forest habitats and constant conflicts with forest people. The forest was an important object of the exploitation and violence of the state; but it was also a constant source of violent challenge to the state. The term mlechchha included tribals as well as foreigners and presented them as a threat to ‘civilized’ people. But it could also be used to justify the use of violence against tribals and foreigners. One of the theories of the origins of kingship in the Mahabharata (discussed later in this chapter) mentions the Nishada and indicates a recognition of the political importance of forest tribes.

 

While ancient texts conceal the coercive element involved in taxation and the state’s interface with forest people, they loudly proclaim that the king’s use of danda (literally the rod; by extension, force or punishment) is essential to maintain social order. A favoured metaphor for chaos in ancient texts is matsya-nyaya, literally, the law of the fish, a situation where the big fish eat the small fish, that is, where the mighty oppress the weak. We do not know the details of the mechanisms for settling civil and criminal disputes in ancient times, but the development of a judicial system (howsoever rudimentary) gave the state and its agents the right to adjudicate civil and criminal disputes and to impose punishment, even death. The king’s rod is said to inspire fear in people and prevents them from committing crimes. But all ancient texts emphasize that a ruler must use the rod in accordance with the principles of justice.

 

While ancient texts conceal the coercive element involved in taxation and the state’s interface with forest people, they loudly proclaim that the king’s use of danda (literally the rod; by extension, force or punishment) is essential to maintain social order. A favoured metaphor for chaos in ancient texts is matsya-nyaya, literally, the law of the fish, a situation where the big fish eat the small fish, that is, where the mighty oppress the weak.

 

The power of the state to punish subjects is discussed in great detail in the Arthashastra. Although there is little evidence suggesting that the ‘laws’ contained in this text were actually used in civil or criminal cases, they are important for the history of legal ideas. The system of criminal and civil law in the Arthashastra involves judges, with the king theoretically presiding over the justice system at a higher level. Punishments include fines, confiscation of property, exile, corporeal punishment, mutilation, branding, torture, forced labour, and death. Torture is both a punishment and a means of acquiring information during interrogation and includes striking, whipping, caning, suspension from a rope, and inserting needles under the nails. The Arthashastra also refers to capital punishment, distinguishing between shuddha-vadha (simple death), and chitra-vadha (death by torture). The latter refers to painful deaths which may have involved public spectacle. They include burning on a pyre, drowning in water, cooking in a big jar, impaling on a stake, setting fire to different parts of the body, and tearing the body apart by bullocks.

 

To be fair to him, Kautilya was not, as is often imagined, an advocate of unrestricted or wanton state violence. In line with the larger ancient Indian political discourse, he argues that the king’s punishment must be rooted in vinaya (discipline). A ruler who imposes wrongful punishment cannot escape punishment himself. If used indiscriminately, unfairly, out of anger or malice, the rod destroys the king. In the absence of institutional checks, the political theorists sought to control the king’s propensity to exercise brute force by warning of the disastrous consequences of excessive force and by emphasizing the need for rulers to be wise, educated, disciplined, and receptive to good advice.

 

Given the pervasiveness of warfare and the force or threat of force implied in systems of taxation and justice, violence can indeed be described as an intrinsic part of human history, and ancient India is no exception.

 

Given the pervasiveness of warfare and the force or threat of force implied in systems of taxation and justice, violence can indeed be described as an intrinsic part of human history, and ancient India is no exception.

 

War was central to ancient Indian political culture

Beyond the pervasiveness of warfare in ancient Indian political history, I would like to suggest that war was central to ancient Indian culture (as it was to many other cultures). It is impossible to imagine the Sanskrit epics—Mahabharata and Ramayana—without war. The oldest Tamil literature, the Sangam poems, also reflect a warrior ethos. In these and other texts, war forms a context within which many other important issues are discussed—human relationships, social duty, the goals of life, happiness, death and its aftermath, heaven and hell, and the relationship with the gods. The ideas and values represented in such texts must have percolated down to various strata of society. 

 

Puram poems and hero stones

The puram poems of the Sangam corpus attach great value to a heroic death. Bravery in battle was an attribute of masculinity, cowardice a source of shame. The spirit of a warrior who died in battle was believed to dwell in paradise. Consider the following poem, supposed to have been written by a poetess:

 

Many said,

That old woman, the one whose veins show

on her weak, dry arms where the flesh is hanging,

whose stomach is flat as a lotus leaf,

has a son who lost his nerve in battle and fled.

At that, she grew enraged and she said,

‘If he has run away in the thick of battle,

I will cut off these breasts from which he sucked,’

and, sword in hand, she turned over fallen corpses,

groping her way on the red field.

Then she saw her son lying there in pieces

and she rejoiced more than the day she bore him.

 

Bodies of warriors who did not die in battle were cut with swords before the funerary rites, in order to simulate death in battle. At times, kings who had been defeated in war committed ritual suicide through starvation, accompanied by their near and dear ones. A poet describes King Kopperuncholan performing this act after defeat in war; he is grief-stricken that the king had not asked him to accompany him into death.

Hero Stone with a 1286 AD old Kannada inscription during rule of Yadava King Ramachandra in the Kedareshvara Temple, Balligavi, in Shimoga district, Karnataka

Sangam poems speak of memorial stones known as natukal and virakal set up in honour of heroes who had died fighting. These stones were decorated with garlands and peacock feathers; the warrior’s weapons were sometimes placed beside them. The spirit of the dead hero was believed to reside in the stone and it was worshipped with ritual offerings of rice balls, liquor, and animals.

 

Apart from poetry, hero stones (mentioned in Chapter 3) commemorating the death of men in battles proliferated over the centuries, not only in South India, but also in other parts of the subcontinent. The events they commemorated were usually not the large-scale wars celebrated in royal inscriptions but small-scale local events, often cattle raids, that were important in the life and historical memory of villagers and local communities. These stones consist of one or more carved panels and are usually uninscribed. It is not easy to date them, but the practice seems to go back to the third century BCE. More elaborate hero stones make their appearance in the third and fourth centuries CE, for instance at Nagarjunakonda in the Krishna valley. Here, at the site of the ancient Ikshvaku capital of Vijayapuri, there are a large number of memorial pillars commemorating the heroic death of army generals and groups of soldiers.

 

Although the details of the beliefs and customs associated with them must have varied across time and regions, the thousands of hero stones found in various parts of India reflect the pervasiveness of ideas of masculinity and honour that valorized a violent, heroic death.

 

War and dharma

The close connection between war and social values is expressed more eloquently in the various tellings of the Mahabharata and Ramayana, which had great cultural impact across India and Southeast Asia. The Mahabharata was probably woven around the memory of an actual conflict between warring kin and reflects the rivalry that must have commonly existed among ruling elites. The war at Kurukshetra is said to have been one of many episodes of conflict between gods and demons, a dharma-yuddha (righteous war). This is because it was fought for Yudhishthira’s right to the throne (he was the eldest son); the Pandavas were semi-divine; and the god Krishna fought on their side. But the ideas about this dharma-yuddha are accompanied by questions and doubt which bring out the problematic nature of both dharma and war. The Mahabharata combines the old idea of the Kshatriya warrior whose aim was to die in battle and attain heaven with a newer, higher goal—moksha. In the epic, war becomes a setting that triggers discussion and debate about many other profound issues, especially dharma. All important issues have to be sorted out in the face of possible death on the battlefield, after which no further discussion and debate would be possible.

 

The Mahabharata combines the old idea of the Kshatriya warrior whose aim was to die in battle and attain heaven with a newer, higher goal—moksha. In the epic, war becomes a setting that triggers discussion and debate about many other profound issues, especially dharma. All important issues have to be sorted out in the face of possible death on the battlefield, after which no further discussion and debate would be possible.

 

The relationship between war and dharma is best illustrated in the Bhagavad Gita, which brings together many diverse philosophical strands to create a new synthesis. The narrative setting of the battlefield is dramatic. Arjuna stands in his chariot and sees his kin, teachers, and friends arrayed before him. His mouth goes dry, his body feels weak and tremulous, his bow slips from his hands. He is assailed by a terrible confusion. Killing is not the problem; that is what Kshatriyas do. It is the killing of one’s own people (sva-jana)—one’s close relatives, teachers, and friends—that is problematic. The killing of kin leads to the destruction of the kula (lineage), the corruption of its women, and social chaos. Surely, fighting such a war would be a papa (great sin). Arjuna expresses these misgivings to his charioteer, Krishna. He puts away his bow and arrows, sits down in his chariot, and says that he will not fight.

Krishna and Arjuna on the chariot, 18th-19th century painting

The rest of the Bhagavad Gita consists of Krishna’s teaching to Arjuna. One must follow one’s dharma (sva-dharma), that is the dharma of the varna one belongs to. A warrior who dies fighting in such a dharma-yuddha will attain heaven and eternal fame. Turning away from battle will result in shame and infamy, which is much worse than death. Killing the enemy is not something to feel sorrowful about because death is inevitable. In any case, it is only the physical body of the enemy that is killed; the embodied self (atman) is indestructible and eternal.

 

“Weapons do not pierce this (the embodied Self), fire does not burn this, water does not wet this, nor does the wind cause it to wither.

This cannot be pierced, burned, wetted or withered; this is eternal, all pervading, fixed; this is unmoving and primeval.”

 

A wise man performs his duty with complete mastery over his senses, unconcerned about their consequences. This is desireless action.

 

Krishna also uses the argument of bhakti. If Arjuna seeks shelter in him (Krishna), is absorbed in him (Krishna), in return, he (Arjuna) will be set free from all sin. Arjuna’s doubts are removed and he picks up his bow and arrows, ready to fight. The Pandavas ultimately win the war at Kurukshetra, but it is after a great deal of slaughter, and they do not live happily ever after. Although the Mahabharata contains a powerful philosophical justification of war, it also contains in its eleventh book, the Stri Parva, a powerful lament on its consequences.

 

While the Mahabharata war is fought between two confederate armies for the sake of a kingdom, in the Ramayana, none of the princes hanker for the throne. Rama goes to war to rescue his beloved wife Sita, who has been abducted by Ravana, the demon king of Lanka. This war too is presented as another round of the conflict between the gods and demons. Rama and his three brothers are parts of Vishnu. Rama’s birth as a man is part of a divine plan to kill Ravana, who has created mayhem by obstructing the activities of the gods, Brahmanas, gandharvas, yakshas, and sages. But this war is very different from the one fought at Kurukshetra. Rama and Lakshmana set out for the island of Lanka seated on the shoulders of the vanaras Hanuman and Angada, their army consisting almost entirely of vanaras. The vanaras are monkeys only in appearance—they are actually the sons of various gods and have been created in order to help Rama defeat Ravana.

Epic Tales from Ancient India. Paintings from The San Diego Museum of Art

Both epics have the idea of a code of honour in battle but acknowledge the occasional need to resort to unfair practices to achieve one’s goals. Rama transgresses the warrior’s code when he shoots the vanara Vali in the back while the latter is fighting Sugriva. But by and large, Rama is presented as compassionate even towards his enemies. The practice of deceit for the sake of victory is much more pronounced in the Mahabharata, and it is practised by both sides. The Pandavas rattle and then kill Drona by announcing that Ashvatthama—the name of Drona’s son, but also that of an elephant that Bhima had killed for the deceit—is dead. Karna is killed while trying to free his chariot wheel from the mud. Bhima kills Duryodhana by giving a low blow to his thigh. As the Pandavas shamefacedly watch Duryodhana die, recalling all their transgressions of the warrior’s honour code, Krishna offers a justification. The Kauravas were militarily stronger and could not have been defeated in fair fight; that is why he had devised these strategies. 

 

“You should not take it to heart that this king [Duryodhana] has been slain, for, when enemies become too numerous and powerful, they should be slain by deceit and strategems. This is the path formerly trodden by the gods to slay the demons; and a path trodden by the virtuous may be trodden by all.”

 

Dharma is complicated. Nothing illustrates this better than what transpires over eighteen days at Kurukshetra. War is the stage on which many questions related to human existence are asked and answered, often inconclusively.

 

Dharma is complicated. Nothing illustrates this better than what transpires over eighteen days at Kurukshetra. War is the stage on which many questions related to human existence are asked and answered, often inconclusively.

 

War as a natural part of politics

The importance of war in ancient Indian politics is clear from the fact that political theorists discuss it in great detail. War is the subject of Book 10 of the Arthashastra but is also a prominent subject of discussion in several other books. In fact, it seems that the analysis of war was one of Kautilya’s important contributions to the discussion of statecraft. The theory of the raja-mandala (circle of kings) presumes the existence of multiple warring states, vying for political supremacy. Kautilya advises the vijigishu—the king desirous of victory—on how to overreach his rivals and become the hub of the circle of kings, that is, to attain paramountcy.

 

The theory of the circle of kings is connected to the six measures (gunas) of inter-state policy and the four expedients (upayas). The six measures are peace/treaty (sandhi), war/initiating hostilities (vigraha), staying quiet (asana), initiating a military march (yana), seeking shelter (samshraya), and the dual policy of peace or treaty with one king and war against another (dvaidhibhava). The four expedients are an important part of governance as well as the conduct of inter-state relations; they comprise pacification (sama), giving gifts (dana), force (danda), and creating dissension (bheda).

 

Apart from military strategy, the Arthashastra has a great deal to say about the organization of the army. It talks of the four-fold army (chaturanga-bala) consisting of infantry, cavalry, chariot wing, and elephant corps. It lists six types of troops (bala)—hereditary (maula), hired (bhrita), banded (shreni), ally’s (mitra), alien (amitra), and forest (atavika). Hereditary troops are considered the best and forest troops the worst. Battle arrays, siege tactics, salaries, and keeping soldiers happy and loyal are important issues that are addressed. Kautilya talks of the harassment and oppression of the people as a result of war. According to him, the harassment inflicted on the people by another’s army is worse than that inflicted by one’s own army. The harassment by the enemy’s army afflicts the entire land, ruins it through plunder, killing, burning, destruction, and deportation. The destruction of the enemy’s crops in the course of the march is mentioned. Plunder is part of warfare and Kautilya suggests how to divide it up among confederate armies. But according to Kautilya, war must never be waged without a careful cost-benefit calculation. If the gains of war and peace are likely to be similar, the king should opt for peace, because war has many negative results.

 

Kautilya gives a basic three-fold classification of war—prakashayuddha (open war), kuta-yuddha (crooked war), and tushnim-yuddha (silent war). Open war is when fighting takes place at a designated and announced time and place. Crooked war involves creating fright, sudden assault, striking when there is an error or calamity on the enemy’s side, and retreating and then striking at the same place. All these tactics have the element of sudden, unexpected attack. Silent war includes pretence, ambush, and luring the enemy’s troops with the prospect of gain. It involves the use of trickery, secret practices, and instigation. There is also a fourth type of war—mantra-yuddha (diplomatic warfare). This involves discussion, persuasion, and negotiation with the enemy, as opposed to military action. Kautilya talks of three kinds of victors. The dharma-vijayi (righteous victor) is satisfied with submission. The lobha-vijayi (greedy victor) is satisfied with the seizure of land and goods. The asura-vijayi (demonic victor) is only satisfied with seizing the enemy’s land, goods, sons, wives, and life. But apart from this passing reference to dharma-vijaya, the Arthashastra is more concerned with victory than honour.

 

While Kautilya has no compunctions about the use of force to attain political ends, he also warns of its dangers. Going against the other experts, he argues that mantra-shakti (the power of counsel) is superior to prabhu-shakti (military might) and utsaha-shakti (the power of energy). He also suggests that the results of war can be achieved through other means, including marriage alliances, buying peace, and assassination. Other recommended ways of dealing with enemies include the use of poison, magic, spells, and charms. Kautilya views judicious force as one of the many ways whereby the vijigishu can achieve his political aims, but force should always be a last resort. A ruler’s greatest weapon is his intellect.

 

Many centuries later, another political theorist, Kamandaka, wrote a work titled the Nitisara. This too discusses war. It details the uncertain and possibly disastrous results of war, especially one launched hastily without due consideration and consultation. Kamandaka lists sixteen types of war that should not be fought. War is a risky business and should hence be avoided by a prudent king. ‘As victory in war is always uncertain, it should not be launched without careful deliberation.’ War, Kamandaka asserts, has inherently disastrous doshas (qualities). While Kautilya urges caution in war, Kamandaka expresses stronger reservations. But war is still considered an integral part of politics and the aim is carefully calculated military victory.

 

The aesthetics of war

Political theorists deliberated on the nature and conduct of war. Poets, playwrights, royal biographers, and composers of royal inscriptions celebrated the military prowess and victories of kings. Through an elegant sleight of hand, they divested war of its ugliness and violence and presented it as something necessary, desirable, even beautiful. Two examples of this stand out—the Allahabad pillar inscription of Samudragupta and the Raghuvamsha of Kalidasa.

 

Political theorists deliberated on the nature and conduct of war. Poets, playwrights, royal biographers, and composers of royal inscriptions celebrated the military prowess and victories of kings. Through an elegant sleight of hand, they divested war of its ugliness and violence and presented it as something necessary, desirable, even beautiful. Two examples of this stand out—the Allahabad pillar inscription of Samudragupta and the Raghuvamsha of Kalidasa.

 

A remarkable sandstone pillar, presently standing in the Allahabad Fort, bears inscriptions of four emperors—a set of six edicts and two minor pillar edicts of the Maurya emperor Ashoka; a prashasti paneygyric) of the Gupta emperor Samudragupta; and an inscription of the Mughal emperor Jahangir. The inscription of Samudragupta (c. 350–370 CE) was composed by Harishena, a high-ranking official and military commander.

The Allahabad Pillar, in Allahabad. Photo, Circa 1900 . The pillar also contains inscriptions on Samudragupta and Jahangir. The pillar is made of polished stone, extends 10.7 m in height and is incised with an Ashokan edict.

Samudragupta’s martial qualities and achievements are described in detail in the Allahabad pillar inscription. Harishena’s achievement was to give an account of Samudragupta’s irresistible and spectacular wars and successes, which, at first glance, gives the illusion of his being emperor of the whole subcontinent, but on closer reading, presents a more complex and limited picture of the empire. Also striking is the way he aestheticizes war. He describes the king as one who has engaged in hundreds of battles, and whose body is beautiful on account of being covered with hundreds of scars caused by various types of enemy weapons. This is a king whose ‘…fame has tired itself with a journey over the whole world caused by the restoration of many fallen kingdoms and overthrown royal families.’ But the references to the king’s many military victories are regularly punctuated by references to his non-martial qualities and achievements.

 

Kalidasa’s Raghuvamsha (fourth/fifth century CE) is an extremely important and influential poetic work, which deals both with the ideals and realities of kingship. It tells the history of kings of the Ikshvaku dynasty, including Dilipa, Raghu, and Rama. The fourth canto describes the digvijaya (victory over the quarters) of Raghu. Kalidasa describes this as an elaborate clockwise military circumambulation of the subcontinent. The description is marked by great poetic beauty and elegance, with references to the landscape, trees and flowers, and the produce of various regions. By and large, Kalidasa avoids graphic descriptions of the violence of war in favour of aestheticized descriptions.

 

“His [Raghu’s] march was clearly marked by many kings who were dispossessed, deposed or overthrown, as the march of an elephant is marked by uprooted, broken trees, devoid of fruit.”

 

And yet, notwithstanding the importance of victories in battle, Kalidasa makes it clear that great kings do not seek political paramountcy for the sake of land or riches but for the sake of fame. Nor do they cling to power. After his conquest of the quarters, Raghu performs a grand sacrifice called the vishvajit (victory over the world) in which he uses up all the wealth he had obtained in his wars. Having discharged his duties, Raghu hands over the reins of power to his son Aja, retires from worldly life, and realizes the ultimate reality through the performance of yoga and meditation. The Raghuvamsha expresses the idea that empire involved military victories but not necessarily conquest. War is idealized and aestheticized and combined with renunciation. Its mundane objectives and violence are erased.

 

Violence against the state

The upheavals of ancient Indian political history indicate that kings and dynasties faced frequent challenges from rivals. Further evidence of threats of violence against the state comes from reading between the lines of texts, especially taking note of their apprehensions, insecurities, and anxieties.

 

One of the accounts of the origin of kingship in the Shanti Parva of the Mahabharata talks of the gods approaching Brahma and Vishnu to intervene in order to put an end to social disorder. Vishnu produced a mind-born son Virajas, who was followed by his son Kirtiman and grandson Kardama. But these three men wanted to renounce the world and did not want to rule. Then came Ananga (who was a good king) and Atibala (who did not have control over his senses). They were followed by Vena, who was dominated by passion and hate and was unrighteous in his behaviour towards his subjects. The sages decided to get rid of him and stabbed him to death with blades of kusha grass. They churned his right thigh and out of it emerged an ugly man named Nishada who was told to go away because he was unfit to be king. Then they churned Vena’s right hand and therefrom emerged Prithu, a man with a refined mind and an understanding of the Vedas, dharma, artha, the military arts, and politics. Prithu proved to be an exemplary ruler. Although this story cannot be considered an account of historical events, it is significant for the many ideas it enfolds—kings who do not want to rule, the tension between kingship and renunciation, the inferiority of forest tribes, and the justification for killing evil kings.

 

The Mahabharata discusses the king’s duties and warns of the consequences of not performing them. A just king goes to heaven, one who is unjust goes to hell. There are other warnings as well:

 

“A cruel king, who does not protect his people, who robs them in the name of levying taxes, is evil [Kali] incarnate and should be killed by his subjects. A king who, after declaring ‘I will protect you,’ does not protect them, should be killed by his people coming together, as though he were a mad dog.”

 

So once again, as in the story of Vena, the epic sanctions the killing of bad kings. There are several stories in ancient Indian texts of evil men who are also kings being killed (Duryodhana, Ravana, and Kamsa are some of the well-known ones), but the overall attitude of the Mahabharata—indeed of all ancient Indian texts—is pro-government and pro-monarchy. Kinglessness is seen as the equivalent of anarchy.

 

The most comprehensive and pragmatic discussion of violence against the state occurs in the Arthashastra. Kautilya advocates ruthless, carefully calculated, and effective use of violence by the state in order to prevent and respond to violence against the state. Kautilya’s king lives in constant fear of assassination, especially at the hands of his wives and sons. Other threats include enemy kings, neighbouring rulers, angry subjects, forest tribes, robbers, mlechchhas, and rebellious troops. Kautilya advises the king to have an elaborate espionage system and to deal firmly with revolts and conspiracies. Those who cannot be killed openly, such as high-ranking officers, should be dealt with through upamshu-danda (silent punishment), that is, secret killing. Silent punishment can also be used against hostile subjects.

 

Kautilya recognizes violence against the king as a serious political problem that has to be dealt with ruthlessly and effectively through pre-emptive action, punishment, and retaliation. The punishment for one who reviles or spreads evil news about the king or reveals secret counsel is the tearing out of the tongue. More severe crimes against the king and kingdom invite more violent punishments. Death by setting fire to the hands and head is the punishment for one who covets the kingdom, attacks the king’s palace, incites forest people or enemies, or causes rebellion in the fortified city, countryside, or army. In several cases (including crimes which invite mutilation), Kautilya refers to the possibility of commuting punishments to fines. But unless there is some crucial mitigating circumstance, no commutation is suggested where the crime merits the death penalty, especially for treason or loss to the state Whether or not Kautilya’s recommendations were actually applied, we know that autocracies tend to react violently to criticism and come down hard on rebels.

 

Kautilya recognizes violence against the king as a serious political problem that has to be dealt with ruthlessly and effectively through pre-emptive action, punishment, and retaliation. The punishment for one who reviles or spreads evil news about the king or reveals secret counsel is the tearing out of the tongue. More severe crimes against the king and kingdom invite more violent punishments. Death by setting fire to the hands and head is the punishment for one who covets the kingdom, attacks the king’s palace, incites forest people or enemies, or causes rebellion in the fortified city, countryside, or army.

 

The Arthashastra contains several references to disaffection among subjects and prakriti-kopa (the anger of the people). These suggest an anxiety about the possibility of a mass rebellion of unhappy, dissatisfied subjects. But ancient Indian sources do not record a single historical instance of popular rebellion against the state. Does this mean that ancient Indians were docile and obedient, never questioning the inequities and oppression of their rulers? There are other possible reasons—the concealment of such incidents by the sources; the effectiveness of the state’s coercive and repressive machinery in preventing and crushing any resistance; and the absence of collective will, resources, and organization that would have enabled the victims of state oppression to come together and revolt against the state.

 

Occasionally, cracks can be seen in the façade. Land grant inscriptions routinely state that the gifted village land was not to be entered by the king’s troops. This only makes sense in a context of a military presence in the countryside. The fifth century Chammak copper plate of the Vakataka king Pravarasena II records the gift of Charmanka village to a thousand Brahmanas and states that the grant was to last as long as the sun and the moon endured (that is, forever). But it adds the curious caveat that the grant would last as long as the Brahmanas in question committed no treason against the kingdom; were not found guilty of the murder of a Brahmana, theft, or adultery; did not wage war; and did not harm other villages. If they did any of these things, the king would do no wrong in taking the land away from them. This inscription suggests that Brahmanas patronized by the king were considered capable of presenting a threat to society and to the state.

 

Incidents of violent rebellion are known in early medieval India, but none of them were ‘popular’ rebellions. For instance, the Kaivarta rebellion in eastern India in the late eleventh century was basically a revolt of politically powerful landowners. The Damara rebellion in Kashmir too involved powerful landlords, not ordinary folk. On the other hand, there are a few inscriptional references to agrarian conflicts, in some cases involving the state. For instance, a thirteenth century inscription from Karnataka states that when farmers protested against their village being converted into a brahmadeya (Brahmana village) a royal army was sent to punish them. Then, as now, farmers were no match for an all-powerful state.

 

Incidents of violent rebellion are known in early medieval India, but none of them were ‘popular’ rebellions. For instance, the Kaivarta rebellion in eastern India in the late eleventh century was basically a revolt of politically powerful landowners. The Damara rebellion in Kashmir too involved powerful landlords, not ordinary folk. On the other hand, there are a few inscriptional references to agrarian conflicts, in some cases involving the state. For instance, a thirteenth century inscription from Karnataka states that when farmers protested against their village being converted into a brahmadeya (Brahmana village) a royal army was sent to punish them. Then, as now, farmers were no match for an all-powerful state.

 

This excerpt has been carried courtesy the permission of Upinder Singh and Aleph Book Company. You can buy Ancient India: Culture of Contradictions, here.

 

ARCHIVE

Before independence, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi said that Swaraj was necessary for Ramarajya and Ramarajya was necessary for us to, at last, be able to “enjoy” the “innocent pleasures” of Diwali. But after independence, torn by the anguish of partition, he stated that, despite Swaraj, Ramarajya, as he saw it, was still missing and a lot of work was left to be done. Here are Gandhi’s thoughts and observations on Diwali from three different years in the first half of the last century.

 


 

“Hinduism tells everyone to worship God according to his own faith or Dharma and so it lives at peace with all the religions.”

 

 — Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi writing in his journal Young India in 1921.

 

Religion, or even aspects of religion, can be interpreted and perhaps even remade in various ways. Take the line ascribed to Jesus in Luke 12: I came to the world to light a fire: what should I want but that it burn?” Ingrid D. Rowland writes how, for the famous thinker, mathematician, cosmologist, poet and Dominican friar Giordano Bruno and his mentor Fra Teofilo da Vairano these words represented “a huge blaze of passionate human charity” and “an image of the blazing love that had created both the cosmos and human hearts”. For many of their contemporaries, however, it would mean “the sacking of cities” and “the burning of heretics in the name of religion”. 

 

Hinduism played an integral role not just in Gandhi’s life, but also in his politics and philosophy. Ramachandra Guha writes in his biography Gandhi: The Years That Changed the World: “Despite his long battles with Hindu orthodoxy, Gandhi still called himself a Hindu. Perhaps this was out of sentimental attachment to an ancestral faith, or for tactical reasons, since positioning himself as an outsider would make it harder to persuade India’s Hindu majority of his reformist and egalitarian credo. Yet, Gandhi’s faith resonates closely with spiritual (or intellectual) traditions that are other than ‘Hindu’. The stress on ethical conduct brings him close to Buddhism, while the avowal of non-violence and non-possession is clearly drawn from Jainism. The exaltation of service is far more Christian than Hindu. The emphasis on the dignity of the individual echoes Enlightenment ideas of human rights.” 

 

So did Gandhi actually fashion a novel interpretation of Hinduism, that fit in with a larger syncretic and humanist vision he had for the Indian nation and the world? Or did he simply, perhaps inspired by ideas from other contemporary faiths, look into a vast sea of scripture and pick what he felt would work best?

 

Gandhi’s own words provide us with some clues. From a Young India article he wrote in 1926: 

 

“I do believe that in the other world there are neither Hindus, nor Christians nor Mussalmans. They all are judged not according to their labels, or professions, but according to their actions, irrespective of their professions. During our earthly existence there will always be these labels. I, therefore, prefer to retain the label of my forefathers so long as it does not cramp my growth and does not debar me from assimilating all that is good anywhere else.” 

 

And writing in the same journal in 1927: 

 

“I know that friends get confused when I say I am a Sanatanist Hindu and they fail to find in me things they associate with a man usually labeled as such. But that is because, in spite of my being a staunch Hindu, I find room in my faith for Christian and Islamic and Zoroastrian teaching, and, therefore, my Hinduism seems to some to be a conglomeration and some have even dubbed me an eclectic. Well, to call a man eclectic is to say that he has no faith, but mine is a broad faith which does not oppose Christians-not even a Plymouth Brother-not even the most fanatical Mussalman. It is a faith based on the broadest possible toleration. I refuse to abuse a man for his fanatical deeds because I try to see them from his point of view. It is that broad faith that sustains me. It is a somewhat embarrassing position, I know-but to others, not to me!”

 

It was in his interpretation of Hinduism that Gandhi rooted his doctrine of Non-violence (Ahimsa) that led him to interpret the Bhagavad Gita differently from Bal Gangadhar Tilak

 

“I do not believe that the Gita teaches violence for doing good. It is pre-eminently a description of the duel that goes on in our own hearts. The divine author has used a historical incident for inculcating the lesson of doing one’s duty even at the peril of one’s life.” (Young India, 1920)

 

Similarly, his idea of Satyagraha or holding on (graha) to the truth (satya) during non-violent resistance: 

 

“My Hinduism is not sectarian. It includes all that I know to be best in Islam, Christianity, Buddhism and Zoroastrianism….Truth is my religion and ahimsa is the only way of its realization. I have rejected once and for all the doctrine of the sword.” (Harijan, 1938)

 

Or, indeed, Gandhi’s idea of Ramarajya, encompassing not just justice and welfare but also inclusiveness: 

 

“By Ramarajya I do not mean Hindu Raj. I mean by Ramarajya Divine Raj, the Kingdom of God. For me Rama and Rahim are one and the same deity. I acknowledge no other God but the one God of truth and righteousness. Whether Rama of my imagination ever lived or not on this earth, the ancient ideal of Ramarajya is undoubtedly one of true democracy in which the meanest citizen could be sure of swift justice without an elaborate and costly procedure. Even the dog is described by the poet to have received justice under Ramarajya.” (Young India, 1929)

 

Diwali being a festival of Rama, a god very much in conversation nowadays, we present here below what Gandhi had to say about Diwali on three separate occasions. 

 

The first, an article written in Navajivan (a Gujarati weekly published by him from 1919 to 1931) in 1920, talks about how Indians must celebrate Diwali during the British Raj. The article touches upon conservative ideas that address both the Hindu and Muslim faith. After castigating the Raj by comparing it to “a king who massacres his innocent subjects” he compares it to one “who trades in wine, hemp and opium, who, by eating pork, hurts the feelings of Muslims and, by eating beef, the feelings of Hindus, who threatens the very existence of Islam and gambles at horse-racing”. He then expands on his idea of Ramarajya quickly before laying out how Swaraj would be necessary for this Ramarajya. And “non-cooperation” with a tyrannical government would be necessary for Swaraj. In this context he talks about what Indians must not do during Diwali as well as what they must. 

 

The second item is a brief note written by Gandhi in 1931 that connects Swaraj to Diwali. 

 

The third is an abridged English translation of a Hindi speech delivered at a prayer meeting, post-Swaraj, on the occasion of independent India’s first Diwali. But post-Swaraj was also post-partition, and so, in it, we discover a turn in Gandhi’s thinking from his past writings of over one and a half decades ago. For, though Swaraj is technically a reality: “But alas! Today there is no Ramarajya in India. So how can we celebrate Diwali?” 

 

Can we “kindle the light of love within” and say that “every sufferer”, regardless of religion, is our “brother and sister”? Can we “banish hatred and suspicion” from our hearts “in order to establish peace and goodwill in the country”? What about the bloodshed in Kashmir? We have published below, along with the abridged English translation, an audio recording of the original nearly twenty-five minute long Hindi speech. 

 

Gandhi’s words, written and spoken at different moments in the first half of the last century, may well give us pause on this Diwali as well.

 

 


 

 

A vintage Diwali greetings postcard featuring Gandhi and Rama.

 

 

How to Celebrate Diwali? (Gandhi’s article in Navajivan in 1920, translated from Gujarati)

 

It would be no exaggeration to say that in this kaliyuga we have no right to celebrate Diwali with so much jubilation. Our celebrating Diwali implies that we feel we are living in Ramarajya. Do we have Ramarajya in India today?

 

A king who is not prepared to listen to his subjects, under whose rule the subjects get no milk to drink, no food to eat and no cloth to wear, a king who massacres his innocent subjects, who trades in wine, hemp and opium, who, by eating pork, hurts the feelings of Muslims and, by eating beef, the feelings of Hindus, who threatens the very existence of Islam and gambles at horse-racing — how can the subjects of such a king celebrate Diwali?

 

I am convinced that never under Mughal rule, or at any other time, were the people so thoroughly emasculated as they are today. This is no accidental result but has been deliberately brought about, and so I look upon this rule as Ramarajya. The government we dream of, I describe as Ramarajya. Swaraj alone can be such Ramarajya.

 

How may we establish it?

 

In former times, the subjects did tapascharya when they were oppressed. They believed that it was because of their sins that they got a wicked king and so they tried to purify themselves. The first step in this was to recognize a monster as such and avoid him, to non-cooperate with him. Even non-cooperation requires courage. To cultivate it, one needs to give up comforts and pleasures. To receive education provided by a wicked Government, to accept honours at its hands, to seek settlement of one’s disputes through its agency, to help it in framing laws, to provide it with policemen, to wear cloth produced by it, to do this while desiring that it should perish is like trying to cut off the branch on which one is sitting.

 

 

In former times, the subjects did tapascharya when they were oppressed. They believed that it was because of their sins that they got a wicked king and so they tried to purify themselves. The first step in this was to recognize a monster as such and avoid him, to non-cooperate with him.

 

 

This, at any rate, we should not do during Diwali:

 

  1. Treat ourselves to pleasures, gamble,

 

  1. Prepare all manner of sweet dishes, and

 

  1. Enjoy ourselves with fire-works.

 

  1. The money saved by renouncing these things, we should donate for (true) Swaraj work.

 

This is the duty dictated by these difficult times. When we have the Government of our dream, we may enjoy some innocent pleasures. At present, however, the people are in mourning, they are widowed. At such a time, they can have no celebrations.

 

 

In 1931 when Diwali fell on one of Gandhi’s silent (maun vrat) days, he wrote this message on a slip of paper when a correspondent wished him a happy Diwali.

 

True Diwali will come when Swaraj is won. Let us remember that Diwali represents the annual celebration of the victory of the forces of Rama — that is, non-violence and truth — over those of Ravana — violence and untruth.

                                                                                                                                                                  London, November 9, 1931

                                                                                                                                                         Bombay Chronicle, November 10, 1931

 

 

Gandhi’s speech to an Independent India on its first Diwali, in 1947 (delivered during a prayer meeting, translated and abridged from Hindi)

 

Brothers and Sisters,

 

Today is Diwali and I congratulate all of you on the occasion. It is a great day in the Hindu calendar. According to the Vikram Samvat, New Year begins tomorrow on Thursday. You must understand why Diwali is celebrated every year with illuminations. In the great battle between Rama and Ravana, Rama symbolized the forces of good and Ravana the forces of evil. Rama conquered Ravana and this victory established Ramarajya in India.

 

 

Mandodari_approaches_her_husband,_the_demon_king_Ravana

Mandodari approaches her husband Ravana while Rama and his allies convene outside the palace, from a manuscript of the Ramayana. Date: 1595-1605; commissioned by the Mughal emperor Akbar. Photo-credit: Asian Art Museum.

 

 

But alas! Today there is no Ramarajya in India. So how can we celebrate Diwali? Only those who have Rama within can celebrate this victory. For, God alone can illumine our souls and only that light is real light. The bhajan that was sung today emphasizes the poet’s desire to see God. Crowds of people go to see artificial illumination but what we need today is the light of love in our hearts. We must kindle the light of love within. Then only would we deserve congratulations. Today thousands are in acute distress. Can you, everyone of you, lay your hand on your heart and say that every sufferer, whether Hindu, Sikh or Muslim, is your own brother or sister? This is the test for you. Rama and Ravana are symbols of the unending struggle between the forces of good and evil. True light comes from within.

 

 

Today thousands are in acute distress. Can you, everyone of you, lay your hand on your heart and say that every sufferer, whether Hindu, Sikh or Muslim, is your own brother or sister? This is the test for you. Rama and Ravana are symbols of the unending struggle between the forces of good and evil. True light comes from within.

 

 

Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru

Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru

 

 

With what a sad heart has Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru returned after seeing wounded Kashmir! He was unable to attend the Working Committee meeting yesterday and also this afternoon. He has brought some flowers from Baramulla for me. I always cherish such gifts of nature. But today loot, arson and bloodshed have spoiled the beauty of that lovely land. Jawaharlal had been to Jammu also. There too all is not well.

 

Sardar Patel had to go to Junagadh at the request of Shri Shamaldas Gandhi and Dhebarbhai who had sought his advice. Both Jinnah and Bhutto are angry because they feel that the Indian Government has deceived them and is pressing Junagadh to accede to the Union.

 

 

Mahatma Gandhi Statue

Mahatma Gandhi Statue at Malpe Beach, Udupi, Karnataka.

 

 

It is the duty of everyone to banish hatred and suspicion from his heart in order to establish peace and goodwill in the country. If you do not feel the presence of God within you and do not forget your petty internal quarrels, success in Kashmir or Junagadh would prove futile. Diwali cannot be celebrated till you bring back all the Muslims who have fled in fear. Pakistan also would not survive if it does not do likewise with the Hindus and Sikhs who have run away from there.

 

Tomorrow I shall tell you what I can about the Congress Working Committee. May you and all India be happy in the new year which begins on Thursday. May God illumine your hearts so that you can serve not only each other or India but the whole world.

 

Listen to Gandhi’s entire speech to an Independent India, on its first Diwali, here:

 

 

 

Gandhi’s speech to an independent India on its first Diwali, in 1947, and its abridged translation has been sourced from https://archive.org/. ‘How To Celebrate Diwali?’ and Gandhi’s note from 1931 was a part of a compilation of Gandhi’s speeches and writings in the book Hinduism According to Gandhi: Thoughts, Writings and Critical Interpretation. You can buy the book here.

 

Hinduism According to Gandhi: Thoughts, Writings and Critical Interpretation

 

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