Amal
Hom
March
of 1919.
In
the house of Viceroy at old Delhi – presently the campus of Delhi University – Imperial
Legislative Council is in session. On the plea of teaching a lesson to the
revolutionists of Bengal and Punjab, the government is hell-bent to strengthen
the chains binding this country by the constriction of Rowlatt Act. The spokesman of the
government in the council is Sir. William Vincent, the Home Member. Unyielding
and tough civilian. Soft like a knife made of sugar candy. Comes down to the
lobby, puts the overcoat on the shoulders of Surendra Nath Banerjee, talks,
never without a smile, with Shrinivas Shastri; and catches up with the words of
Malviyaji even before his utterance. Within the council he acts differently
altogether. There, the battle is going on between two sides for nearly a fortnight
–
“The bit and wounded falcon
Fights with the serpent.”
The representatives of the country are fighting with the foreign rulers
with the attitude of “not a grain of earth without war” [an idiom - ‘bina juddhe
nahi dibo suchyagra medini’ – the famed saying by Duryodhana in Mahabharata –
Translator]. Around twenty-five amendments have been submitted on each of the clauses
of the Bill originally proposed. Madan Mohan Malviya alone would have sufficed,
but with him stands Surendra Nath from Bengal, Shrinivas Shastri from Madras
and Jinnah – the Mohammed Ali Jinnah of those days – from Bombay. I was
listening to that great debate sitting in the press gallery.
Afternoon is getting dark with the descending evening. Session of the day
is also coming to an end. Viceroy and Governor General Lord Chelmsford stood up
(During those days Viceroy used to be the President of the Legislature) and
announced that session will resume in the night after evening dinner – otherwise
discussions will not be possible on such a huge number of amendments; work of
the council will not end within the scheduled number of days. Surendra Nath
stood up immediately and said, “But, my Lord, we go to bed at nine!”. Lord
Chelmsford replied with a smile, “Well, Mr. Banerjea, we shall condone your
absence.”
The session of the council resumed. One by one, all the amendment proposals
brought by the native members (who were in minority) were rejected – by the
votes of majority white members and their black lackeys. Everyone realized that
the Bill we be passed next day, in its original form. Not in vain did Mr.
Justice Rowlatt came from white-island to this Prabhas-Tirtha (lighted place or
Sacred Place of Lord Krishna) – Translator)! While coming out after the session
I saw Home Secretary Sir William Vincent talking with the head of Associated
Press Mr. K. C. Roy (Keshab Chandra Roy) in the lobby. Overheard a word ‘powder’
while crossing them but could not understand.
After roaming a little with Keshab babu, both were returning to the hotel
in his car. We crossed Kashmiri Darwaja and were moving towards Maidens through
Qudsiabagh. I asked Mr. Roy, “What Mr. Vincent was saying to you in the lobby?”
He replied, “I smell powder in the air of India, Roy”.
The car was speeding on the roads of old Delhi; the faces of the government
members sitting on the treasury bench of the council arose before me – with threatening
eyebrows, tight-lipped. Nothing will prevent them from ‘teaching these beggars
a lesson’. Something else came up in front of my eyes also, a scene I witnessed
in Lahore few days back. In the old city, near Mochi Darwaja a torch-lit mass
meeting is going on. A Pathan youth was giving speech standing on a stool put
on a buffalo-cart:
“You think about this, this new law which is being prepared – neither will
there be a court, nor a lawyer and nor an opportunity to appeal as well. Government
will hold a cup of poison in one hand and in other, hold a sword. Government
want to make us drink that cup of poison by force of that sword. Snatch the cup
of poison from the hand of the government and break it by throwing on the
ground; snatch also the sword from its hand and strike the enemy with it.”
“Shabash! Shabash!” The sky turning red with the light of torches echoed
the resounding acclaim for the speaker. The audiences were all the shopkeepers,
street-vendors, Tonga-wallas and hawkers! Tried to match the two images coming
to my mind and became sure that conflict is inevitable. Sensed the rise of dark
clouds on the horizon, foreboding of storm and perhaps the smell of powder in
the air as well!
Despite forceful protests of the people Rowlatt Bill was passed. Tumultuous
movements and tension did spread all over the country. Gandhiji gave a call for
Satyagraha-protests to his fellows, friends, to the people all over India. Bugle horns of war called from all sides. Perhaps
the enthusiasm was all the more because the weapon [Satyagraha – Translator]
was unknown.
‘Tribune’ [The media house where the writer Amal Hom was working then –
Translator] office sanctioned leave to its assistant editor, tired of covering
the Rowlatt Bill debate in the Legislative Council. Came to Calcutta by the mid
of March. Before leaving Lahore, I had seen the rising mercury of the thermometer
of O’Dwyer [Michael O’Dwyer, Lieutenant Governor of Punjab – Translator]. Lieutenant
Governor looked determined to teach a lesson to the political agitators. Most
angry he was with my ‘chief’ Kali Nath Roy. He was editor of Tribune, and he was
Bengali. I came to Calcutta with terrible anxieties. As usual, keeping with his
way Gandhiji appealed to the Viceroy, not to accord his clearance to the
Rowlatt Act ignoring the remonstrances from all over the country. His appeal
was rejected. Gandhiji announced that on first Sunday of April, i.e. on 6th,
whole of India will go on strike and processions and rallies will be held
against this ‘Black Act’. With these will begin his civil disobedience against
the act and subsequent imprisonment. People in Delhi confused the date – they went
on strike on 31st March. Firings occurred, Chandni Chowk reddened
with the blood of Hindu and Muslim martyrs; coming in front of the bayonets of
the Gurkha soldiers, stood Swami Shraddhanand, the tall saint wearing reddish tunic.
A big procession of the Muslims took Swami Shraddhanand to Jama Masjid. They asked
him, the brave and courageous leader of the Arya Samaj, to stand on the alter
on which their Imam stood. From that alter he gave the call, “Hindus and Mussalmans,
be united!” That call went from Delhi to Punjab. O’Dwyer got more heated.
Waves of countrywide strike swept the rocky, granular plains of the five
rivers. Afraid and taken unaware, the government of Punjab arrested the twin
leaders of Hindus and Muslims in Amritsar, Kichloo and Satya Pal, under Defence
of India Act and sent them to unknown destinations. When, anguished by the
exile of these two ‘crownless kings’ of Amritsar, an unarmed army of the people
were going to submit petition to the British Deputy Commissioner, they were
fired upon and some were killed. Maddened by that the people of Amritsar took revenge
in a savage way – two banks were burnt and killing five innocent white
employees of those banks. Two English women were also humiliated by them. Hearing
about this act, anguished Gandhiji was coming from Bombay to Punjab – he was
arrested at the border of Punjab and sent back to Bombay. Hearing the news,
whole of Punjab went aflame.
Sitting in Calcutta I was getting the news of Lahore from Mr. Kali Nath
Roy. On 8th I got letter from Kali babu that Lahore is rife with the
rumour about his imminent arrest, hence I should remain prepared to proceed for
Lahore immediately on receipt of telegram. Telegram came on 10th
night, “come immediately”. There was no train for Lahore on that day. Hence, I boarded
Punjab Mail on 11th. In the morning, news had come to Calcutta about
firing on unarmed people and arrest of Gandhiji. All the shops were closed, and
modes of transport were off the road. Somehow, I could reach Howrah station.
I was supposed to reach Lahore by 12 in the noon on 13th. But the
train from Ambala started stopping frequently after some time. Making enquiry I
came to know that on the previous day the railway tracks were uprooted at many
places, hence this extra alertness. When the train reached Amritsar station five
hours late, the platform was crowded with white soldiers; big arches were
closed by sandbags with machine guns positioned on those. None was allowed to alight
at Amritsar. White soldiers came in the compartments and began search
operations. Suddenly loud rattles startled us. Sounds were coming from nearby. Quickly
the nature of sounds became clear. I asked one white soldier “what’s the
matter?” Pointing the thumb of his left hand towards the city outside the
station he informed, “lots of fun going on there”.
On
that fateful afternoon of 13th April of 1919, a new chapter of
Indian history began to be written with letters of blood on an abandoned land
in the city of Amritsar. Next morning the news of Jallianwala Bagh reached Lahore.
Two days ago, incident of firing occurred there as well, in the market of Anarkali;
shops were closed for the last few days. Now the tension rose to extremes. O’Dwyer
ordered, “Open the market, open all the shops, otherwise militancy-laws will be
clamped upon.” People of Lahore said, “First return the dead bodies of the
persons killed in firing at Anarkali.” O’Dwyer with his council, entered the
narrow lanes and bazars of the old city on horseback, guarded by armed forces in
the front and back. The women inside the houses welcomed him by the antic of fake
wails of ‘siapa’1; and men, seeing Malek Omar Hayat Khan of Tiwana,
the famed lackey of Punjab, on the horseback with Pathan headgear just beside
the Lieutenant Governor, welcomed loudly, “the maternal uncle of the government
has come!” Humiliated Lieutenant Governor returned back, could not make the
shops open.
Next
day, on 15th April, Marshal Law was was announced in Lahore. Militaries
and the CID polices took away Kalinath from Tribune office, I remained
house-arrested in the office. Violent frenzy of Colonel Frank Johnson began in
Lahore. Air-bombing was done on unarmed people at Gujranwala, torture of innocent
women went on in Kasoor and on the streets of Amritsar, people were made to crawl
at bayonet-point.
Thereafter
came down the darkest curtain between Punjab and the rest of India. Not a dot
of light was there in that deep darkness. The country as a whole was “apprehending
something terrible in its silent soul” and “the horizons were hidden” [‘maha
ashonka jopichhe mouna antare’ and ‘dikdiganta abagunthane dhaka’, both lines
from the poems of Rabindranath]. Piercing that darkness, tearing away the dark curtain
gleamed a streak of light on 30th May 1919.
On
that day the voice of the poet of Bengal rose in denouncement – holding the poison
of accumulated insult of the country in his own throat like the ‘Neelkanth’ [Shiva
the God], he threw away the crown of honour put on him by the British – he came
out to stand by the side of his humiliated countrymen. He wrote to Lord Chelmsford:
6, Dwarkanath Tagore Lane, Calcutta,
May 30, 1919
6, Dwarkanath Tagore Lane, Calcutta,
May 30, 1919
Your Excellency,
The
enormity of the measures taken by the Government in the Punjab for quelling
some local disturbances has, with a rude shock, revealed to our minds the
helplessness of our position as British subjects in India. The disproportionate
severity of the punishments inflicted upon the unfortunate people and the methods
of carrying them out, we are convinced, are without parallel in the history of
civilised governments, barring some conspicuous exceptions, recent and remote.
Considering that such treatment has been meted out to a population, disarmed
and resourceless, by a power which has the most terribly efficient organisation
for destruction of human lives, we must strongly assert that it can claim no
political expediency, far less moral justification. The accounts of the insults
and sufferings by our brothers in Punjab have trickled through the gagged
silence, reaching every corner of India, and the universal agony of indignation
roused in the hearts of our people has been ignored by our rulers—possibly
congratulating themselves for what they imagine as salutary lessons. This
callousness has been praised by most of the Anglo-Indian papers, which have in
some cases gone to the brutal length of making fun of our sufferings, without
receiving the least check from the same authority—relentlessly careful in
smothering every cry of pain and expression of judgement from the organs
representing the sufferers. Knowing that our appeals have been in vain and that
the passion of vengeance is blinding the nobler vision of statesmanship in our
Government, which could so easily afford to be magnanimous as befitting its
physical strength and moral tradition, the very least that I can do for my country
is to take all consequences upon myself in giving voice to the protest of the
millions of my countrymen, surprised into a dumb anguish of terror. The time
has come when badges of honour make our shame glaring in the incongruous
context of humiliation, and I for my part wish to stand, shorn of all special
distinctions, by the side of those of my countrymen, who, for their so-called insignificance,
are liable to suffer degradation not fit for human beings.
These
are the reasons which have painfully compelled me to ask Your Excellency, with due
reference and regret, to relieve me of my title of Knighthood, which I had the
honour to accept from His Majesty the King at the hands of your predecessor,
for whose nobleness of heart I still entertain great admiration.
Yours
faithfully,
Rabindranath Tagore
Rabindranath Tagore
Let
me tell you something about the history of this letter. Everyone may not be
knowing.
It
is difficult to say from whom Poet got the news of the massacre at Jallianwala
Bagh. Dispatch of letters and newspapers between Punjab and Bengal during that
period was stopped altogether due to tight censorship. His niece, Sarala Devi –
wife of all-powerful leader of the ‘valley of five rivers’ [Punjab] Pandit Ram
Bhuj Chaudhary – had written to him about the imminent danger her husband was
facing. That letter didn’t reach the Poet. I myself had written quite a few
letters to him at that time from Lahore – he received none. He was then at Shanti
Niketan. But the news reached him anyway. Eight days before writing to the
Viceroy, on 22nd May – summer heat was in extreme in Shanti Niketan –
Rabindranath wrote to one of his lovesome2 (the young woman was then
at Shimla hills):
“This
might of the sky I can bear with but the might of this earth has become
unbearable. You are already in Punjab. Hence you perhaps have received the news
about the grief of Punjab. Heat of this grief is scorching the ribs of my chest.”
(Bhanu Singher Patrabali)
Much
later, the Poet had described this searing of his soul in one of his writings.
His own words are here:
“You
know, in the days after Jallianwala Bagh happenings, all its news had not
reached here. I perhaps got the news from Choudhury family [looks like the poet
is referring to Ashu Choudhury, Pramatha Choudhury and others] – do not clearly
remember, I can still bring to my mind what terrible pain, unbearable pain I went
through. Just went on thinking – can’t it be counteracted? Can’t I be able to
give a befitting reply? Am I able to do nothing at all? If even this is to be borne
in silence, living also would be impossible.” [Mongpu te Rabindranath – Maitreyee
Debi]
Night
after night, the Poet spent awake. Finally, when could not bear it any more, from
Shanti Niketan he came to Kolkata on 27th May. Immediately after
reaching Kolkata he paid a visit to one famous political leader, who was dear
to him. Rabindranath is saying, “I asked him to arrange a protest meeting, I
shall speak, you people will also speak…”. The leader did not agree. Rabindranath
went to meet some more leaders, none agreed. Defense of India Act was still
clamped on the country. Everyone was in terror – who knows, what would happen Mr. Andrews
was with the Poet then; he writes:
“He
tried to get up a public meeting of protest; but no one was willing to take the
chair.” [‘Rabindranath Tagore’ by C. F. Andrews in ‘Voorslag’, a quarterly journal
published from Durban, South Africa, May-July 1927]
Rabindranath
said to me that then he informed Gandhiji about his readiness to go to Punjab with
him. But Gandhiji did not agree.3
Two
days, 28th & 29th May went futile in these vain
efforts. On 28th May in the morning he went to Ramananda Chattopadhyay.
The Poet always had a special regard for the opinions of this friend of him. Finally,
in the night of 29th he wrote the letter to Viceroy. The Poet
narrates, “I could go to sleep at four in the morning after finishing the letter.
I told nothing to anyone about this. Even not to Rathis (i.e. his son Rathindranath, his wife and other relatives).
I know, too many advices do not help much in such actions. I was afraid – lest
someone prevents me.” [‘Mongpu te Rabindranath’ – Maitreyee Debi]
As
if after so many days the suffering of his mind was ameliorated a bit. On that
very day he wrote to Ranu, “After coming to Kolkata I have written to the
Viceroy, to take back that title of ‘chhar’ [pun with ‘Sir’, as it was pronounced
in rustic Bengali, which also meant rubbish or ash – Tr`] conferred upon me. …
I have said that much pain already weighted my chest; more weight of this title
has become unbearable; hence I am trying to put it off my head.” I have heard
from Mr. Andrews that when next day morning, Rabindranath showed him the
letter, he requested the Poet to soften the language. Mr. Andrews never forgot
the way Poet looked at him – “Such a look as I had never seen in the eyes of
Gurudev before or after!”
Relatives
and friends were also scared and not without reason. Mr. Andrews has written
that the Defense of India Act was in force at that time. Rabindranath knew that
the letter sent by him has brought him face-to-face with the risk of arrest,
direct court proceedings and imprisonment. In that very period, many in Punjab
were punished with deportation for life and confiscation of property for much lesser
anti-government activities.
Rabindranath
was not afraid. In those fateful days, he gave his country the “hymn of courage”
[Abhi mantra], in the “illuminated and
spirited language of the pride of truth” [satyer
gaurabdripta pradipta bhashay] as “godly messenger of the soul of motherland”
[swadesh atmar banimurti]. Who will
punish him?
[All
are phrases taken from the Poets writings – Tr.]
Who came in this world with the lamp of
God in hand,
Which of the kings could punish that
messenger of Shiva, and when?
[debater deep haste je asila bhabe,
Sei rudradute, balo, kon raja kabe pare
shasti dite]
But
the British did not pardon him. The Poet has said, “They were very much insulted
by that. Then, while I went to England, I found they were not being able to
forget that. British are a race, devoted to their king. Rejection of their king
hurt them so much.” [Mongpu te Rabindranath – Maitreyee Debi]
Not only the small
Englishmen of this country, who, incensed with the return of Knighthood by
Rabindranath, wrote in their newspaper Englishman:
“It will not make a ha’porth worth of
difference. As if it mattered a brass farthing whether Sir Rabindranath Tagore
approved of the Government’s policy or not! As if it mattered to the reputation,
the honour and the security of British rule and justice whether this Bengalee
Poet remained a knight or a plain Babu!”
Not only them, – even the big Englishmen of England were not disturbed any
less. I have seen a letter written to Rabindranath by Robert Bridges, the Poet
Laureate of England and an admirer of our Poet. He also, could not forgive Rabindranath4.
And when during those days, in 1920 Rabindranath went to USA, Henry Nevinson
exposed in Nation, the famed newspaper of London, how detectives were engaged
by the British Embassy to follow the Poet.
‘The letter by Rabindranath after the Jallianwala Bagh massacre’ was not
only a story of great pride for his own life, but also an unforgettable chapter
in the history of Indian freedom struggle. The pain of subjugation and insult of
the country was not felt by anyone else in this way, and none else could make
it vain the way he did.
But the poet did not rest after returning his knighthood – he did not think
that he has done whatever there was to be done by him on the issue of Punjab. He
repeatedly went on writing letters to many of his sagacious friends – informed them
about the lawlessness and tyranny of the British Rule, the humiliation of his
countrymen in its hands. Kalibabu, my editor Kalinath Roy, remembered with gratitude
for his whole life, what Rabindranath did for his release from jail. Late
professor Nepalchandra Roy of Shantiniketan once told me that Rabindranath left
none of the authorities to write a letter for Kalibabu. The letter written to me
by Rabindranath is
witness to this fact:
Shantiniketan
27.7.1819
Shantiniketan
27.7.1819
Dear Amal,
Received your letter a few days back.
Read in today’s newspaper that Tribune has started publication once again –
through your hands. I’m happy but a fear lurks in. The crooked frown of the
authorities is still there. I wish that you carry this burden with caution.
I remain anxious hearing the news of failing health of Kalinath Roy in jail
and have requested in writing to Montagu and Lord Sinha both, for his release.
What else can be done except waiting? Do not be much hopeful.
What Sankaran Nair did? To meet him once would have been better. Perhaps, it
won’t be in your convenience now to go to Shimla. Andrews will go after some
days. Then to Lahore. He has informed you perhaps. You will get all the news from
him. ‘Saheb’ is raging. He knows that this blot of Punjab on the British will
never go.
Take my blessings,
Yours,
Shri Rabindranath Thakur
Yours,
Shri Rabindranath Thakur
Tribune was off the press for three months. Only after that I could get the
permission to resume its publication. Hence, I really could not go to Shimla.
Sudhir Mukhopadhyay, the lawyer of Lahore and friend of Kalinath during his bad
days, met Sir Sankaran Nair. When none of the lawyers and barristers of Lahore
Chief Court could muster the courage to defend Kalibabu, when the famous British
barrister of Calcutta Mr. Norton had to return from the gates of Punjab by the
order of martial law administrator Colonel Frank Johnson – he was not allowed
to enter to be defense lawyer in Kalibabu’s case – only Sudhirbabu took that
responsibility fearlessly and made good arrangements for defense. When with a
petition to the Governor General for condoning or lessening the punishment of
Kalinath Roy, Sudhirbabu went to Sankaran Nair for advice, Sir Sankaran said, showing
him a letter written by Rabindranath, “By good luck, Chelmsford doesn’t know
that Tagore has pleaded in this matter”. However, finally the Governor General
had lessened the jail-term of Kalinath. He was released after some days.
After
a few months Rabindranath went to England (1920). Reaching London, first of all
he went to India Office, to meet Montagu and Lord Sinha. In the meantime, report
of the Hunter Commission, investigating Punjab disturbances, had come out. A description
of the talks about Punjab between Montagu and Rabindranath has been diarized by
his son Rathindranath. There Rabindranath appears to be saying to the Secretary
of State that people of India is not anxious to punish Dyer, they want to know
whether England accepts that the inhuman barbarities done by him is against the
principles of humanity. Rabindranath made it clear that discussion on Hunter
Committee Report in British parliament is the test for British nation as a whole.
During discussion with Lord Sinha, both him and Rabindranath agreed that the
way the people accepted in silence the atrocities and lawlessness of Martial Law in Punjab, could not have
happened in Bengal – Bengalees would not tolerate such insult of humanity. At that time
Rabindranath wrote about this in ‘Shantiniketan’ magazine:
“The inhuman barbarities which took place in Punjab is now under trial. Let’s
leave aside the rulers. While judging those barbarities ethically we, as a duty
should discuss the character of our countrymen. The happenings which are just sad,
humiliate none. But if, behaving animally with human beings becomes possible, then
shame overpowers sorrow. Occurrences of Punjab have caused us shame. I feel
that deeper abasement of our character has made not only inflicting sorrow but
insult to our humanity easier; and that is the cause of our own internal
misery.
“In Punjab we expected to hear the message of manliness, ‘however hard be
the oppression, we shall suffer, but not self-humiliation’. When we could not hear
that, we must first of all condemn ourselves. …. Atrocity on unarmed helpless
is cowardliness, to accept that atrocity with humbleness is also cowardliness; –
because there is no defeat in receiving the blow of arms with the pride of duty,
accepting sorrow with head held up.”
[Shantiniketan, 2nd year, 1st issue, Bengali 1327]
We have learnt from that very diary of Rathindranath, that in a ceremony
for felicitation by citizens, Rabindranath immediately drew aside Viscount Cecil,
eminent leader of the Tories, and informed him about the lawlessness in Punjab.
He asked Gilbert Murray, the world-famous professor of Oxford, that the
sagacious people who think the behaviour of their countrymen in Punjab has been
bereft of ethics, should publish a protest-statement in the newspaper. Poet did
not sit idle in England.
After that, when the debate in House of Lords of the parliament on Hunter
Commission Report ended in support for General Dyer, Rabindranath was anguished
to the extreme. He wrote to Andrews:
London, July 22nd, 1920.
London, July 22nd, 1920.
“The result of the Dyer debates in both Houses of Parliament makes painfully evident the attitude of mind of the ruling classes of this country towards India. It shows that no outrage, however monstrous, committed against us by agents of their Government, can arouse feelings of indignation in the hearts of those from whom our governors are chosen.
“The unashamed condonation of brutality expressed in their speeches and
echoed in their newspapers is ugly in its frightfulness. The feeling of humiliation
about our position under the Anglo-Indian domination had been growing stronger
for the last fifty years or more; but the one consolation we had was our faith
in the love of justice in the English people, whose soul had not been poisoned
by that fatal dose of power which could only be available in a Dependency where
the manhood of the entire population had been crushed down into helplessness.
“Yet the poison has gone further than we expected, and it has attacked the
vital organs of the British nation. I feel that our appeal to their higher
nature will meet with less and less response every day. I only hope that our
countrymen will not lose heart at this, but employ all their energies in the
service of their country with a spirit of indomitable courage and determination.
“The late events have conclusively proved that our true salvation lies in
our own hands; that a nation’s greatness can never find its foundation on half-hearted
concessions of contemptuous niggardliness.
“It is the sign of a feeble character to seek for a short-cut to fulfilment
through the favour of those whose interest lies in keeping it barred – the one
path to fulfilment is the difficult path of suffering and self-sacrifice. All
great boons come to us through the power of the immortal spirit we have within
us, and that spirit only proves itself by its defiance of danger and loss.”
[“Letters to a Friend” Edited by C. F. Andrews, Allen & Unwin, London
1928]
Same voice, glowing with valour, which was in the letter relinquishing knighthood
written to Governor General, had an expression in this letter to Andrews.
A few days after this letter, on 13th August, the Poet again
wrote to Andrews, this time from Paris:
“Our stay in England has been wasted. Your Parliament debates about Dyerism
in the Punjab and other symptoms of an arrogant spirit of contempt and callousness
about India have deeply grieved me, and it was with a feeling of relief that I
left England.”
But these were not his last words. The Poet now came to the basic – pointed
to the fault where it really was:
“Let us forget the Punjab affairs – but never forget that we shall go on
deserving such humiliation over and over again until we set our house in order.
Do not mind the waves of the sea, but mind the leaks in your vessel.”
Same words, which Rabindranath did speak to his countrymen all his life, “Look
at yourself, take care of your home – march forward on the way of self-realization
and self-culture.”
The
way Rabindranath intensely, with the burning in his soul, repeatedly anguished
for the humiliation his homeland had to suffer, for the insult of its miseries,
the way he stood beside his countrymen during every crisis, I do not know of
any other like instance in the lives of other poets of other countries. But, at
the same time, he never agreed to preserve the memory any insult of his country
or any humiliation of humanity. That is why, when there was a proposal to build
a memorial for Jallianwala Bagh massacre, he did not agree. He said:
“Preserving
by a monument, the memory of this happening in Punjab will not be a matter of
pride for us. Bravery is commemorated, not cowardice. Where there were no signs
of bravery either from the side of the oppressor or from the side of the
oppressed, what shall we commemorate with celebration? Our imperial officials
have established memorials of their evil doings in Kanpur and Kolkata. Shall we
follow them? Will it, this attempt to imitate them, not be our real defeat?”
[Shantiniketan,
2nd year, 1st issue]
More
important words were uttered by the Poet in the message he sent in response to
the invitation extended by Muhammad Ali Jinnah to attend the first annual
memorial meeting of Jallianwala Bagh at Mumbai. The message (13th
April, 1920) is worth resurrecting from the yellowed pages of the old
newspaper. So, let me end this article of mine with those words:
“A
great crime has been done in the name of law in Punjab. Such terrible eruptions
of evil leave their legacy in the wreckage of ideals behind them. What happened
in Jallianwala Bagh has itself a monstrous progeny of a monstrous war, which
for four years had been defiling God’s world with fire and poison, physical and
moral. The immensity of the sin, through which the humanity has waded across
its blood-red length of agony, has bred callousness in the minds of those who
have power in their hands, with no check of sympathy within, or fear of
resistance without. The cowardliness of the powerful, who owned no shame in
using their machines of frightfulness upon the unarmed and un-warned villagers,
and inflicting unspeakable humiliations on their fellow-beings behind the
screen of an indecent mockery of justice — not feeling for a moment that it was
the meanest form of insult to their own manhood — has become only possible
through the opportunity which the late war had given to men for constantly
outraging their own higher natures, trampling truth and honour under foot. This
disruption of the basis of civilisation will continue to produce a series of
moral earthquakes, and men will have to be ready for still further sufferings.
That the balance will take a long time to be restored is clearly seen by the
suicidal ferocity of vengefulness ominously tinging red the atmosphere of the
peace deliberations.
"But
we have no place in these orgies of triumphant powers, rending the world to
bits according to their own purposes. What most concerns us is to know, that
moral degradation not only pursues people inflicting indignities upon the helpless,
but also their victims. The dastardliness of cruel injustice, confident of its
impunity, is ugly and mean. But the fear and impotent anger, which are apt to
breed upon the minds of the weak, are no less abject. "Brothers, when
physical force, in its arrogant faith in itself, tries to crush the spirit of
man, then comes the time for man to assert that his soul is indomitable. We
shall refuse to own moral defeat by cherishing in our hearts and soul dreams of
retaliation. The time has come for the victims to be the victors in the field
of righteousness.
"When
brother spills the blood of brother on the ground and exults in his sin, giving
it a high-sounding name ; when he tries to keep the bloodstain fresh on the
soil, as a memorial of his anger, then God in shame conceals it under His green
grass and beneath the sweet purity of his flowers. We who have witnessed the
wholesale slaughter of the innocent in our neighbourhood, let us accept God's
own office, and cover the bloodstains of iniquity with our prayer :—
"Rudra
yat to dakshinam tnukham tena mam pahi nityam."
"With
Thy graciousness, 0 Terrible, for ever save us."
"For
the true grace comes from the Terrible, who can save our souls from the fear of
suffering and death in the midst of terror, and from vindictiveness in defiance
of injury. Let us take our lessons from His hand, even when the smart of the
pain and insult is still fresh — the lesson that all meanness, cruelty and
untruth are for obscurity and oblivion, and only the Noble and True are for Eternity.
Let those who wish, try to burden the minds of the future with stones, carrying
the black memory of their anger, but let us bequeath to the generations to come
only those memorials which we can revere. Let us be grateful to our
forefathers, who left us the image of our Buddha, who conquered self, preached
forgiveness, and spread his love far and wide in time and space".
This
message is the message of Rabindranath, the message of Gandhiji’s life – the
eternal message of India.
_______________________________________________________________________
1. In
Punjab there is a tradition (do not know whether it still exists or not). If
someone dies, people are brought on rent for expressing grief around the dead
body. These rented grievers take part along with the laments of the relatives
of the dead person with loud wails. Beating of chests and in that way announce the
death. This is called ‘siapa’. To make fun of the Lieutenant Governor of
Punjab, the women inside the houses in Lahore imitated that, the moment Michael
O’Dwyer, a day before the announcement of Marshal Law, entered the old city to make
the shops open, which were closed due to strike for long five days. The fake ‘siapa’
said to him that his entry in the city is a bad omen, grievous like the
appearance of death.
2.
Ranu
Adhikary; now Lady Ranu Mukherjee
3.
Much
speculations have been made as to why Gandhiji did not come to Punjab ignoring the
prohibitions and obstructions imposed by the government, especially the terrorizing
frown of Marshal Law. I had the opportunity to listen to Gandhiji himself, when
after a few months (in October 1919) he came to Lahore for the work of the Congress
Investigation Committee formed to investigate Punjab disturbances. I understood
from what he said that, at first he was quite eager to come to Punjab crossing
all the obstructions and prohibitions. But later he felt that by announcing
Satyagraha on 6th April and thus by calling the people for Satyagraha-struggle
without sufficient preparations, he committed a mistake. Understanding that, he
admitted the mistake, due to which, people also indulged in some wrongful acts.
Thus, he felt that after openly admitting the mistake – ‘Himalayan miscalculation’
– coming to Punjab again or being arrested in the way would be meaningless.
And, even if the authorities permitted him to enter Punjab during Marshal Law,
he could have done nothing. He could be kept under house arrest. Nothing positive
could have happened by that. Rather, the news of his arrest would have caused
bloodsheds elsewhere in the country, as it happened earlier in Gujrat and Punjab.
Mr. Andrews has written in this context:
"Just before that letter [Rabindranath's
letter surrendering his knighthood) was written [May 30, 1919], while I was
with him in Calcutta, I had been staying with Mahatma Gandhi in Bombay, and I
had seen with what agony he also had felt all that was happening, and with what
difficulty he was prevented from going immediately into the Punjab in order to
court arrest. Whether I did right or wrong, I do not know; but I myself joined
in trying to prevent him at that time from going into the Punjab. I felt that the
time had not yet come. What I want to point out is this, that I saw, at that
critical moment, the same independence of spirit, the same fearless courage,
the same passionate hatred of tyrannical force, the same utter disregard of
consequences, the same willingness to sacrifice life itself for duty, the same
love and reverence for the fair name of India in both of them—no whit less
strong in one than in the other.” ['Gandhi And Tagore', "The Hindu"
Madras, April 10, 1924.)
4. One could get a hint of the extent
to which Robert Bridges, the Poet-Laureate was disturbed by Rabindranath’s
relinquishment of the title awarded by King, when Rabindranath was invited to
deliver a speech in Oxford in 1920. When the organizers of the event requested
Bridges to speak something, he refused. I have a copy of the letter Bridges did
write to Rabindranath in this matter. When, after that tour Rabindranath
returned from Europe, he permitted me to make copies of some more letters,
written to him by various intellects of Europe, and keep with me. I am quoting some
lines from that letter by Bridges:
“… and am sorry that I do not feel able to accept
the invitation, which I have just received, to speak at the meeting in Oxford
on Friday…
“I am writing, especially as I never sent any answer
to your several communications since the late disturbances in India. I began a
long letter but I feared that you might misunderstand it even more than you
could misinterpret my silence, and in England we could not at first rely on the
press reports of events.”
[Article
published in Sharadiya Desh (Bengali year 1355) and collected in Purushottam Rabindranath ]
