Gandhi and Bengal Politics

The communal violence in West Bengal enlivens the debates during the partition of Bengal at the time of independence of India. Those debates reveal while visionary leaders like Gandhi were aware of the communal fault lines and were working tirelessly to bridge the divides, communal leaders like H. S. Suhrawardy, who was Prime Minister (the current equivalent of Chief Minister in an Indian state) of Bengal during the partition, were deliberately stoking communal passion, thus undermining peaceful coexistence between the communities.

The letter exchanges between Gandhi and Suhrawardy show the different priorities of both the leaders. Gandhi believed from the very beginning that Hindus and Muslims belonged to the same sociocultural tradition. He failed in his mission to halt the partition juggernaut but tried his best to stop the communal violence triggered by the partition politics. The nonviolent worker in him worked tirelessly and travelled violence affected parts of India including Bengal and Bihar to address public gatherings and engage people and leaders in dialogue.

When Gandhi decided to visit Bengal, to areas like Noakhali, Suhrawardy, the Prime Minister of Bengal, was not in favor of such a visit. How could he tolerate Gandhi who opposed partition and worked for communal harmony? Suhrawardy and his political party used communal violence as a tactic to pressure the Congress leaders and the British government to accept partition as the only viable solution. This was in line with Jinnah’s two-nation theory, that Hindus and Muslims are two nations, and they can never live together. Without delving deep into this two-nation theory, it is sufficient here to make the point that Suhrawardy’s communal politics was in clash with Gandhian nonviolence and peaceful coexistence.

Gandhi believed that Hindus and Muslims are part of the same family, inheriting the same historical and cultural tradition. There are differences between the two communities, he acknowledged but argued that differences, as in a joint family, do not imply discord, separation, and violence. But Suhrawardy, following the line of Jinnah, believed that as a Hindu Gandhi represented only the Hindus, not the Muslims. He suggested that Gandhi represented Hindu interests and it cannot be expected of him to play a pacifying role in communally tense areas. Suhrawardy also doubted that Gandhi’s visit to violence affected areas in Bihar, where Hindus were majority, would help restore Muslim confidence in him. This logic of religious politics appalled Gandhi and hurt him the most.

In a letter to Suhrawardy in December 1946 from Noakhali, Gandhi quoted parts of Suhrawardy’s letter. He wrote, “you proceed to say: ‘It is true that it is the Muslims who have suffered in Bihar and not Hindus. And then you insinuate, therefore, perhaps, your going to Bihar will not have any effect in re-establishing confidence amongst Muslims’…” He retorted, “Let me say that I do not regard the Muslims to have less claim on my service or attention… This distrust is so utterly baseless. I regard myself as an efficient servant of India.” Gandhi even did not lose hope and appealed him, “Let me tell you, whether you as a late friend and other members of the Muslim League believe me or not, that I am here to regain the lost confidence. Nothing will move me away from Noakhali unless the lost confidence is regained, which will be the case if the Hindus and Muslims in these districts trust one another without needing the presence of the police or the military.”

Suhrawardy viewed with suspicion Gandhi’s presence in Noakhali, where the Hindus were the victims of communal violence. He told Gandhi that the situation in Noakhali is fine and there is no need of his presence. Gandhi in his reply wrote, “You have painted a rosy picture of things in Noakhali. I wish I could share your estimate. …If the information imparted to me is correct, things are not safe enough in Noakhali. Hindus have not shed their fear and from what you say even the Muslims are not free from it. My business in coming here is not to sow or promote dissensions between the two. I regard myself, as I have ever been, an equal friend of both.”

Gandhi was suspicious of authority, whether that of Prime Minister Suhrawardy, or that of British government, to restore communal peace. In March 1947, he wrote to Suhrawardy to reconsider his decision to support public celebration of Pakistan Day. Gandhi’s reason was that such a public celebration would incite communal violence, particularly in the areas which witnessed communal killings. He wrote, “I have seen your press note…I must confess that it does not give me much satisfaction. May we hold Pakistan Day celebration meetings in parts of Bengal where Section 144, Criminal Procedure Code is not in action or where there is no other prohibitory order? And if meetings can be held indoors, are they not likely to be far more dangerous than public meetings?”

Are these Gandhi-Suhrawardy exchanges relevant for a discussion on current politics in West Bengal? The answer is YES. They show that there were communal leaders who stoked communal passion and engineered violence then, and there are communal leaders now who did not learn from history and engage in communal politics for petty gains. It also shows us the mirror that divisive politics rigidifies the feelings of hatred, generates more violence, and narrows the scope for peaceful coexistence.

(This article was earlier published on my Times of India blog site, Periscope: https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/blogs/periscope/gandhi-suhrawardy-exchanges-and-bengal-politics/)

Travelling in an Indian Train: Some Impressions

Last week I traveled in a train from Howrah railway station in Kolkata to Jajpur Keonjhar Road railway station to visit my parents. It happened that I was in Kolkata to participate in a conference on Protests at Maulana Abul Kalam Azad Institute of Asian Studies, a well known institute under India’s Ministry of Culture. After the conference I took a taxi to the station. I missed the East Coast Express, and boarded the Jan Shatabdi Express at 1:25 PM. Throughout the journey, which took sharp five hours I interacted with Odia co-passengers non-stop. We reflected on many issues, ranging from politics to economics to philosophy. Modi was a hot subject. We also focused on Indian economy, how salaries are going up, but with little significance as inflation is high. 

While chatting I was also looking through the windows. The vast landscape of Bengal and Odisha captivated me, and made me nostalgic. To be nostalgic is perhaps one of my few weaknesses, which I do not dislike much. At Kharagpur, vendors with tea, local-made chocolates with big offers, and groundnuts came in. Some of the passengers made business with them, while I was continuing chatting with a co-passenger. What disheartened me was the sight of two children, perhaps brother and sister, entering the train and stopping in the middle of the coach to perform before the passengers so that they can get some money. The girl must be around 3 or 4 years, and the boy 7 or 8 years. I lamented that I could not do much except offering some money or indulging in pity that the world is so harsh. The train crossed Kharagpur, then Subarnarekha and Budhabalanga rivers, and local towns Jaleswar and Balasore.

The passengers were also interested in my experience in America, the lifestyle there, and what the people and the leaders there think about India. I was not interested to go deep into these subjects as I was more interested to know more about Odisha, the current developments in the state and in India. After brief engagement on these issues, we again came back to our usual chat. 

As I was turning my gaze around, I found litter under seats. There were banana skins, chocolate and biscuit rappers, polythene bags and used tea cups. I raised the issue of cleanliness and hygiene while referring to the prime minister’s Swachh Bharat (clean India) campaign. We had a long and winding discussion. We also expressed our commitment to a clean India. I talked about America and Europe and how the cities there are clean. We also discussed how the educated Indians indulge in littering in the public places. We agreed that we Indians are selfish and while keeping our houses clean, we do not mind throwing garbage outside our houses. This reflected the lack of citizenship, lack of civic culture and social engagement. One of my co-passengers mentioned the saying ‘sarkar ka maal, dariya mein daal’. It implies lack of concern for public goods. It also implies a cavalier attitude towards public places.

As the train was chugging ahead and our discussion on clean India was getting momentum, I finished my tea. As I was looking for trash can to throw the used cup, one co-passenger pointed his finger down at a garbage heap and suggested I should throw the cup there. I felt tempted. He said, ‘you are in India, and in India behave as an Indian.’ It implied that I may follow rules of cleanliness and hygiene while abroad, but it does not make a big issue if I put a small cup under the seat. I was hesitant. I did not argue. I took the cup and searched for trash can which I found at the entrance, and threw the cup inside after sliding its cover open. The co-passenger did not say anything, but understood my message that I am determined to follow the principles of cleanliness whether abroad or in India.

As we were continuing our discussion loudly, I noticed many missing trays behinds the seats. There were few trays. One can notice that there are holes in the back of the seats as markers of places for knots and bolts for the trays. I asked the reason to one of my co-passengers, who claimed to travel on the same route for 26 years. He does a job of supplier, based in Bhubaneswar, but regularly travels to Kolkata in relation to his job. He is a regular traveler in this train since it started running. To my almost naïve question whether the train was like this since the beginning, he replied with a cool demeanor that the train was one of the best trains on the route. Everything was in perfect shape. Gradually people started sitting their kids on these trays. Satire filled his voice when he said, “the rich kids started sitting on these trays first. When the rich parents started sitting their babies on these trays, people started clapping, laughing in support saying, O’ look at the baby, how cute! How he is smiling, playing! But, nobody looked at those crying trays, which creaked and cracked.” 

He further said, “But, when poor parents started sitting their children, people cautioned that the fragile trays will crack.” His anger at the rich, and sympathy for the poor, notwithstanding, his reasoning appeared sound. The trays were misused. Another co-passenger said, the trays served really well, we could eat on them, could keep small stuff on them, could keep tea and coffee on them. But now there are no trays. To my query, what happened to those broken trays, the old passenger said, the people took away the broken trays to their homes. Another passenger commented, people would love to loosen a knot further instead of tightening it. Most of the trays vanished, and the few remaining seem following the same path. The fragile trays gave a message: the Indian train, carrier of millions of people every day, is in shambles and crying for help. 

I had very nice exchanges with some other co-passengers. I thought about a picture of life and world. I knew that I will perhaps never meet these people in life, but I also knew I had some of the finest exchanges with the people in the train. The exchanges were open, straight from heart. Five hours passed. I felt jealous of time as my journey ended. I reached the destination. As I came out of the station, my younger brother was there to welcome me.