Showing posts with label partition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label partition. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 8, 2021

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/)

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Two Cities, Shared History

I just finished reading and relishing the book Tales of Two Cities (2008, edited by David Page, published by Roli Books under the series Cross Border Talks).

The book is about the journey of two prominent South Asians – Kuldip Nayar from India and Asif Noorani from Pakistan. Theirs are not simply stories of travel but voyages – physical, emotional and spiritual – deeply embedded in the history of partition of the British India. This book, hence, is a narrative of history of India and Pakistan – the birth pangs of the two nations, the role of religion in history making and also about an integrated identity and onslaughts on it. Equally importantly, this book is not only about tragedies of Nayar and Noorani but also about tragedies of millions of Indians and Pakistanis, who crossed the abruptly created border, suffered and died.

Nayar recounts his days in Sialkot and how he was active in friend circles, leading a peace committee to fight communal hatred that was gaining momentum in the wake of the partition. He talks about his Muslim friends and how at the wish of his best friend, Shafquat, he tattooed the Islamic insignia – the crescent and star – on his right arm. His father was a dentist in the town and popular among the local populace. The fever of partition was going high and along with the hatred among the Hindus and the Muslims. Nayar argues that the partition of the subcontinent on religious basis fostered the hatred and provided much of its rationale. He raises this issue before the founder of Pakistan, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, who visited Lahore College before three years of the partition. Nayar that time was a Law student in the college. To his question, how would he ensure that the Muslims and the Hindus live together once Pakistan is created, Jinnah replied that once the states are created Pakistan and India would remain as friends as France and Britain after many years of war.

“The few weeks of madness (during the partition) on both sides of the border embittered relations between the two countries for generations to come…Fear and mistrust of each other made even trivial matters major issues”, Nayar writes.

He remains nostalgic about his native place. He describes in detail the surrounding of his house and the town. Though a Hindu, Nayar describes how his family was worshipping a Pir (a Muslim Saint) in the backyard of his house and how the Hindus and the Muslims were sharing each others’ joy and sorrow, only to be sullied by the communal hatred and violence. He tells how his father, then 65, was hurled a brick by a Muslim boy (whom he had cured from typhoid few weeks back) while returning back from office on a tonga. The boy named Bashir, accompanied by his parents, came to Nayar’s house next day to seek forgiveness for his act. Nayar argues that the arrival of the Muslim refugees from India who had tragic experiences at the hands of the Hindus and the Sikhs further spurred the communal violence. Those refugees encouraged and actively engaged in violence.

Nayar is also critical about the Indian leadership during partition. He believes that some Indian leaders were apathetic towards the conditions of the Muslims as they believed that the Muslims got a separate state as they wanted. He also mentions India not transferring the agreed upon assets to Pakistan, which furthered the bitterness. Nayar, however, speaks highly of India’s Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, and argues he was a thorough secularist. Nehru went to the streets of Delhi with kurta and pajama with a stick in hand to stop communal violence. He points out as most of the Muslim leadership shifted to Pakistan the remaining Muslims in India looked to Maulana Abul Kalam Azad for leadership. Azad in one of his speeches at Lahore College had argued that the partition would not serve the cause of peace in the subcontinent.

Though the wounds of the partition are deep, Nayar believes, they can be healed through friendship and cooperation. He is active in promoting peace between the two countries. He is also an advocate of friendly relationship between the two Punjabs in India and Pakistan.

Asif Noorani – a journalist, film critic, columnist, is adept in combining humor and hard fact with subtle messages. Like Nayar, he was born in an affluent family in Bombay and went to school and befriended kids from different religions. As a child he believed all are Muslims and a Hindu must be a Shia or Sunni! This is pure simplicity which we also experience in different ways in childhood. Noorani describes his childhood in a multicultural and multiethnic setting in Bombay, and remembers some of the gory scenes of communal violence. One needs to remember that Bombay was not as affected by partition-related violence as Punjab.

His family travelled to Karachi in 1950, three years after the partition. It was more an economic factor than political and communal that pushed his family to leave Bombay. His father had suffered losses in Bombay as his partner in the medical store had shifted to Pakistan and the new partner was not cooperative. Noorani’s description of Lahore, particularly the model town locality where his family initially settled, is vivid. This locality was mostly developed by the Hindus and Sikhs before the partition, and Noorani tells us how some of the houses have Hindu names engraved in the marble plaques.

Later his family migrated to Karachi. He describes how families migrating from different parts of India had settled in the city. These refugees had not forgotten their native places in India. They named their new habitations as per their old places in India. So there were Benaras colony, Kokan society, Bihar colony and Dilli colony in Karachi! Here, it is important to observe how the identity of the people remained with them despite their dislocation. Not only that, the migrant people, particularly the women preferred to call each other in the name of the locality they belonged to in India. So, his mother was Bumbai wali behan. There was also a Jhansi ki Rani, the lady who migrated from the Indian town Jhansi!

Noorani’s narration of the 1965 war and his confinement to Bombay is heartrending. Though he was worried about possible internment or possibility of being a prisoner of war, he remained composed throughout. During his Bombay days he had a brief interaction with the noted Bollywood actor Dilip Kumar. His encounters with the Indian officials including one Takle were a mixture of tribulation and humor. It shows how the officials despite the conflict between the two countries were not in the same mold. While some preferred to be rigid like the official who did not send his passport to Delhi for the stamp, others like Takle showed the humane side and offered Noorani tea and biscuits and shared jokes.

Noorani tells us the multiethnic and pluralistic culture of Karachi. It is the city in Pakistan which has the maximum number of minorities. He tells how on one occasion when communal frenzy was at high, Prime Minister Liaqat Ali Khan rushed to the Burnes Road with kurta and pajama to stop the violence.

Noorani and Nayar also recount the story of their respective cities which they called their homes after the partition. They cast a balanced picture of the cities of Karachi and Delhi. Though these cities have grown manifold and become cosmopolitan, they have increasingly encountered problems such as environment pollution, overcrowding, unemployment, etc. Both Noorani and Nayar are optimists. That optimism has motivated them to pursue their life-long goal – peace between India and Pakistan. Theirs is a shared story, shared history, identity and culture, which the border created in 1947 could not rupture.

(Published in Transcend Media Weekly, 12-18 May 2014)