Pakistan or the Partition of India

Title: Pakistan or the Partition of India

Author: B R Ambedkar

Publisher: Education Department, Government of Maharashtra, 1990 (First published 1940)

ISBN: 9780404548018 (indicative)

Pages: 480

Dr. B R Ambedkar was the chairman of the drafting committee of the Indian Constitution. In spite of hard toil as a member of a Dalit community, he rose to prominence as a lawyer and constitutional expert. Ambedkar’s opinion carried great weight in the last decade of India's bondage under Britain because the Muslim League was pulling out all stops in their frantic quest to drive a wedge between the Depressed Classes and the other Hindus so as to bring down the numerical superiority of the latter. In this book, Ambedkar presents the cases of Hindus and Muslims as their counsel for and against the idea of creating a Muslim state called Pakistan which had gained prominence after the League’s Lahore Declaration raised the demand in 1940. This is in fact a report prepared by a committee of the Indian Labour Party in 1940 immediately after League’s declaration. Ambedkar was the chairman of the committee and authored the report. This is a fine specimen of the wide knowledge and erudition of Ambedkar.

The author lucidly explains the definition of nationalism, nationhood and community, as understood by eminent statesmen. A community has only the right of insurrection. They can only ask for a change in the mode and form of government without secession. A nation has the right of disruption that is capable of breaking the bond and become a separate state. He concludes that what stands between the Hindus and Muslims is not merely a matter of difference and this antagonism is not to be attributed to material causes alone. It is formed by causes which take their origin in historical, religious, cultural and social antipathy. Political antipathy was also added to this heady mix after the First World War when the idea of the freedom of India began to crystallize into the realm of possibility than a wild dream. These factors form one river of deep discontent, which is regularly fed by acts of hatred.

Having established the basics, Ambedkar ventures to examine whether the two communities can be designated as nations. The Hindus had not yet become a nation and are in the process of becoming one. To bring the contrast to focus, Ambedkar examines the historical precedents and comes to the conclusion that there are no historical antecedents which the Hindus and Muslims can be said to share together as matter of pride or as matter of sorrow. They have been just two armed battalions warring against each other. One community’s heroes are the other’s villains. Moreover, the Muslim heroes have a track record of wreaking devastation and death across India. Their past is a past of mutual destruction. The perceived uniformity in some matters of custom and manners is partly due to incomplete conversion, caused by some who retain their old ways. This forms the basis of the separate nationhood of the Muslims. From this point, it requires only a short walk to concede a separate state for them. Furthermore, the right of nationalism to freedom from an aggressive foreign imperialism and the right of a minority to freedom from an aggressive majority nationalism are not two different things. Another point to note is that the demand by a nationality for a national state does not require to be supported by any list of grievances. The will of the people is enough to justify it.

The author quite literally scoffs at the attempt of the Hindus to stall the idea of Pakistan by its appeals to preserve the territorial integrity of the motherland. The raw deal they had had at the hands of the Muslim Invaders stands incomparable in its brutality, barbarity and ruthlessness. Ambedkar lists out the unbearable harshness of Muslim conquests during the 762 years from the advent of Muhammad of Ghazni to the return of Ahmed Shah Abdali in a long series of quotes from the historians of the period (p.54-63). The invasions were accompanied with destruction of temples and forced conversion, with spoliation of property, slaughter, enslavement and gross abasement of men, women and children. Hence, the memory of these invasions remained green as a source of pride to Muslims and as a source of shame to Hindus (p.64). The author concludes that if the Muslims are to be against the Hindus, it is better that they should be without and against, rather than within and against. The arguments on inviolability of the land also does not hold water as he compares North India to Alsace-Lorraine in Europe which had changed hands many times in the past. This book also lists out the gruesome episodes of communal violence occurred at various parts of the country in the period 1920-40 (p.163-184). What is disturbing is the casual nature of the events that sparked the outbreak of riots. No part of India, whether in the north, south, west or the east was free from this malice that took on the proportions of a civil war. Besides, the author warns that the Congress may concede League’s extravagant demands for getting an undivided India to rule over. This might well include 50 per cent reservation for Muslims in the legislature and executive and even declaring Urdu as the national language of India.

Ambedkar notes the increasing rapport between the British and Indian Muslims after 1919 with a tinge of concern. After that year, it was fairly evident to the British government that the Congress, which largely represented the Hindus under Gandhi, was going to be charting a collision course with the administration of the country. As a manifestation of the principle of Divide et Impera, they extended an olive branch to the Muslims. After 1919, the numerical strength of Muslims in the Indian army was boosted. Indian army used to divulge its community-wise constitution in those days and Muslims are reported to be filling up 36 per cent of the army in the 1930s while they comprised only a quarter of the population. The author doubts the loyalty of these soldiers in case free India was attacked by a Muslim invader such as Afghanistan. This was especially apposite for the period as the Muslim League and Khilafat Committee had taken the stand that Muslim soldiers in the army shall not be used against Muslim powers (p.98).

Ambedkar’s shining intellect illuminates the argument landscape of the book so that the readers never go astray. He had such a fine grasp of constitutional matters that he has included the draft of a bill he proposes for preliminary provisions for the Indian constitution and the duties of a transition government. Ambedkar presciently points out that mutual exchange of populations is necessary for Partition to take effect fully. The draft includes sufficient enabling clauses to handle such issues. Shifting and exchange of populations may be required to preserve homogeneity of newly formed states. Turkey, Greece and Bulgaria exchanged twenty million people after the First World War because they felt that considerations of communal peace must outweigh every other consideration. If Nehru’s clueless administration had adopted Ambedkar’s visionary suggestions, the bloodbath that accompanied partition in the form of forced migration across newly formed borders could have been averted entirely. Unfortunately, Nehru never rose to such lofty heights of intellectual preparedness. He shunned any form of transitional authority and was straining at the leash to handle the reins of power the moment clock struck midnight on August 15. However, Ambedkar could not foresee the relations between the two countries souring so soon after the Partition. He argues that settling the finer points related to defence is not a very urgent issue ‘as there is no reason to suppose that Pakistan will be at war with India immediately after it is brought into being’ (p.67).

The book is a rare example of fine scholarship and deep research from a social leader. Ambedkar was the spokesman of the Dalits, but he maintains an impartial and well-balanced perspective in his arguments involving Hindus and Muslims. This is a trait many contemporary Dalit leaders sorely lack. The book contains a lot of appendices and tables showing population figures and community-wise allotment of seats in the various provincial legislatures. It is not only a narrative of Pakistan but also an analysis of Indian history, politics and future constitutional provisions as evaluated in their communal aspects.

The book is highly recommended.

Rating: 4 Star

Origin

Title: Origin

Author: Dan Brown

Publisher: Corgi Books, 2018 (First published 2017)

ISBN: 9780552174169

Pages: 542

I generally don’t read fiction. And even when I do it occasionally, don’t pause to review it. But the Lockdown in force in the country for the last 25 days to curb the spread of the Corona virus disease has exhausted my collection of books taken from libraries which remain closed. This leaves me with no other option than to delve into my daughter’s book shelf which has some fine popular titles of fiction. Dan Brown is my favourite author for easy reading and I have read all of his works yet. Hence this book turned out to be a pleasant, thrilling and informative read. In this latest volume featuring Robert Langdon as the protagonist, Brown narrates the story of a genius computer scientist who found the answers to the two fundamental questions human societies always struggled to solve – where do we come from and where are we going – and the forces that try to stop him from revealing his findings to the wider world. The man gets shot on stage while beginning the live presentation of his story and Langdon, who was also his former teacher, then tries to unlock the information encrypted with a 47-character secret password, facing great risks to his personal safety and assisted by Ambra Vidal, the fiancé to the crown prince of Spain. As usual, the novel ends with the victory of the hero.

Earlier Brown novels that leaned on art and architecture had chosen Italy as the setting with its large number of magnificent cathedrals and intriguing castles at the author’s disposal – in a literary sense. This book’s storyline unfolds in Spain, in the cities of Barcelona, Bilbao and Madrid. Readers note with a sense of revelation the amazing legacy of Spain in art and architecture. Brown’s novels, especially this one, are excellent primer to art. In addition to the human characters, the Guggenheim Art Museum in Bilbao, the Casa Mila and the Sagrada Familia Cathedral in Barcelona also find crucial significance in the narrative. Judging from the experience in The Da Vinci Code, readers are advised to exercise caution even though the author declares in the epigraph that all art, architecture, locations, science and religious organisations described in this book are real. In the Code, he falsely argues that the person who sits next to Jesus in the Passover meal table was Mary Magdalene because the figure looks feminine to the modern eye. That character was indeed the apostle John and it was an artistic device of the Middle Ages to portray male figures with a touch of effeminacy. Anyway, this book’s description appears to be in accordance with established conventions. Readers should make a Google search of the art pieces and museums to fully appreciate the descriptive flow and to get themselves introduced to the wonderful world of art.

Brown assigns religion the role of a gentle benefactor to the human race. Through a padre in the story, he suggests that religion should stop rejecting the discoveries of science and stop denouncing provable facts. It should become a spiritual partner of science using its vast experience to help humanity build a moral framework and ensure that the coming technologies will unify, illuminate and raise humanity up. At the same time, he does not overlook the violent side of organized religion as another character admits that historically, the most dangerous men on earth were men of God, especially when their gods became threatened. They think that there is righteousness in whatever they do. It also hints at the opposition to the liberal Pope Francis in the Catholic Church. Some of them want a return to the strict conservative ethos and fear that a Pope who was permitting the followers to pick and choose from a buffet table of God’s laws, deciding which rules was palatable to them and which were not is a recipe to disaster.

Another important impression the readers get from the book is the increasing power and ubiquity of computers that have reached the threshold of the capability to make decisions on the fate and destiny of human beings. A very smart artificial intelligence (AI) software designed by Edmond Kirsch – our scientist in the novel – hosted on a powerful quantum supercomputer plays an unimaginably intricate and strategic game in the story. This powerful computer, named Winston, can understand speech, think logically, talk and even appreciate art. Admittedly this is still a few years in the future, but its appearance in the real world is more of a question of when than if.

Brown also hits out at irresponsible journalism of the paparazzi variety. It strives to incite controversy by broadcasting ideas that are patently absurd, all the while avoiding legal repercussions by turning every ludicrous statement into a leading question. As in the case of all of Brown’s works, this book also is a page-turner. He knows how to rivet the readers’ attention along with the flow of the impressively written story.

The book is highly recommended.

Rating: 4 Star

India in Slow Motion

Title: India in Slow Motion

Author: Mark Tully

Publisher: Penguin, 2003 (First published 2002)

ISBN: 9780143030478

Pages: 302

India’s economic growth in the post-independence period was lethargic as compared to other nations who had recently come out of the colonial yoke. The main reason for this laggardness was the highly centralized socialistic planning of the economy adopted by Nehru and his daughter Indira, who between themselves commanded the destiny of the country for almost thirty-seven years until the latter’s assassination in 1984. If the damage was limited to the economy, it would have been easier to cure. But this peculiar, all-encompassing state control spawned a license-quota-permit raj which enabled the government to control even the minutest production parameters of all industrial establishments, including private ones. The entrepreneurs quickly found a way around – bribing the politicians and bureaucrats to turn a blind eye. Probably this might have been the real intention of Nehru and Indira, who both exhibited an elevated level of tolerance to corruption among their cronies. Unfortunately, this disease spread to the body politic of the society as a whole. Corruption and inefficiency in governance became the hurdles to national growth. As the country liberalized its economy in the 1990s and restrictions were relaxed, observers began to question the culture of quid pro quo associated with an illicit relationship between the politician-bureaucrat nexus and the industrialists/contractors. This book is one such exposition of the grave shortcomings observed by Mark Tully on his travels across the country, mainly during the 2000-01 period. The author was a correspondent of the BBC for twenty-five years. He was born in Kolkata, got educated in England and returned to India for a fulfilling career in journalism. As white journalists do in India, Tully soon expanded his contacts among the elite and had grown to be able to exert pressure on veteran politicians to allot party tickets to his friends to contest elections to the national parliament. His colleague and partner, Gillian Wright, has also contributed to the book.

Corruption and inefficiency are the buzzwords of this book. In fact, the second is a corollary of the first. Everywhere he looks, Tully finds bureaucrats and politicians more than willing to oblige torts and facilitators who open their purse strings for their benefit. His criticism embraces all facets of the Indian polity including the judiciary. The book claims that Indian courts all too often provide temporary shelter and sometimes long-term protection to those who have stolen government funds (p.85). This book also demonstrates the increasing clout of the non-governmental organizations (NGO) in the early 2000s. These organizations were usually financed by overseas sources who are not obligated to disclose their true motives or sources of income. We read about NGOs conducting raids against carpet-weaving companies in the State of Uttar Pradesh. Some NGOs, and the author sometimes, seem to desire that an apolitical rebellion well up among the masses which will shake up or shatter the system. The resulting anarchy is no cause of concern for such foreign and some Indian leftist journalists.

The book includes a chapter on religious reforms in Goa which is noted for its refreshingly new perspective while all other chapters are nothing but sterile criticism based on vacuous claims and unilateral assertions without listening to what the other party has to say. Casteism is a bane of the Goan Church. People who converted to Christianity from the upper castes still enjoy supremacy in the church. In villages, they enforce their ‘right’ to carry the cross on Good Friday processions. However, with the relentless influence maintained by the lower castes, the liturgy is changing fast as more charismatic practices find acceptance even among the conservative elite. This has led to a more solid anchoring of the church among the masses. The Portuguese built the great cathedrals to impress Goans with the majesty of a God who lived on high. The church changed and brought God down to earth to survive in independent India. The Portuguese were more interested in enforcing the religion than material progress. When they left Goa – or rather, forced out – there was not even a bridge over the two Goan rivers, the Zuari or Mandovi.

One just wonders at the ignorance or naiveté of the author about the real, down-to-earth situation in India even though he had stayed in the country for many decades. He claims that Indian politicians fear to attempt bureaucratic reforms, because these officials conduct and supervise the elections. This is laughably absurd. Anyone who has at least a superficial familiarity with the way elections are conducted in India knows that it is simply impossible for the officials to sway the results. But this false information perfectly tallies with the preconceptions and prejudices of Tully’s intended western audience. The author identifies three elements in Indian society opposing reforms: politicians, bureaucrats and intellectuals; and rightly surmises that the intellectuals undermine India’s pride in its past. Their contribution to the sense of inferiority which has led so many Indians to expect nothing better of their country than the present corrupt and moribund system of governance is considerable (p.153).

In these days of Covid lockdown, India is worried at the hundreds of instances of the disease caused by a conference of the Tabligh Jamaat held in Delhi in mid-March 2020. It is the first time this organization came under the public glare and the civil society is horrified at their casual disregard for prevention measures and the secrecy associated with its activities. This book includes a very good coverage of them. Even though the author visited their headquarters (Markaz) in Nizamuddin in 2001, he was not allowed to interview any of their top leaders. In the end, he had to be content with meeting a prominent sympathizer to get an idea of how they work. The association was founded by Maulana Ilyas in Nizamuddin itself. The Markaz has no television, radio or newspapers. The sect is run without the benefit of telephone, fax or email. They still use the post card (we must of course be aware that this book was written in 2001). Word of mouth is the way of spreading the message because they believe that if things are published, the motives would not be perfectly pure. Even though Tully is usually slightly incredulous of the people he interviews, he passes no such judgment on the Tabligh and accepts all he is told at face value. However, he remarks that Tablighis were involved in the mass conversion of hundreds of Dalits at Meenakshipuram in Tamil Nadu on 19 February 1981.

The chapter on Kashmir is a glittering example of the press freedom allowed in India as every word of it opposes the country and its policy on Kashmir. Tully is upset that India does not hold a plebiscite there and also at its uncompromising stand on stamping out Islamic terrorism financed, armed and abetted by Pakistan right across the border. Just a few weeks before the author’s visit to the state, terrorists had had a rampage on Jammu railway station killing several innocent passengers on the platform. A clutch of terrorists armed with deadly assault rifles had mowed down the people waiting for the train. But still, Tully’s journalistic heart beats for the human rights of the terrorists! He also casually remarks that the exodus of Hindu Pandits from the Valley was caused by their unnecessary panic. He bases this false conclusion on the testimonies of a few Kashmiris, the very people who drove them out! And he has not bothered to meet any of the Pundits themselves to corroborate the story. To rub salt to the wound, he reiterates the Pakistani viewpoint on Kashmir by declaring that Kashmir is a tragedy caused by Indian secularists, suspicious of religion and religious people and the fear or hatred of Muslims generated by Hindu nationalists (p.280).

The book and its ideas appear to be outdated, written almost two decades ago. The entire text is based on a prejudice, typical of British journalists that nothing good or worthwhile originates in India. Most of the information is biased, obtained from worthless rural teashop chatter or the accusing tales made by the aggrieved party. Objectivity is not one of the author’s strong points. Foreign authors who write on India usually come out with a few clichés characteristic of India such as pot-holed roads, lack of electricity for extended periods, peeling plaster off the walls, clouds of dust (if in villages) or fumes (if in towns) on the roads. All of them find mention in this book too.

This book has lost its relevance by obsolescence and hence recommended only for archivists.

Rating: 2 Star

The Courtesan, the Mahatma and the Italian Brahmin

Title: The Courtesan, the Mahatma and the Italian Brahmin - Tales from Indian History

Author: Manu S Pillai

Publisher: Context Westland, 2019 (First)

ISBN: 9789388689786

Pages: 384

This book is an amorphous mixture of stories from the pre-British and British periods of Indian history. It strings together 25 chapters from India's early and medieval periods and 35 chapters from the British era. Each chapter is totally independent of the others and there is no inconvenience if you started reading them from the end of the book first. These were a series of articles that appeared in the 'Mint Lounge'' publication. These materials are the leftovers from the author’s research for his books ‘The Ivory Throne’ and ‘The Rebel Sultans’. It is also coloured with political overtones as the author aligns with the ultra-liberal gang of former leftist scholars, taking up cudgels against the rising tide of nationalism enveloping the country. He wastes no chances to peer into the lives of nationalist icons like Swami Vivekananda or Rani Lakshmi Bai and manages to come up with some little known facts or legends that would put them in a bad light. Readers can clearly discern his sly smile at the end of such a chapter on account of the vicious job satisfaction he is deriving from making a slur on that great leader’s credibility in the popular mind. Manu S Pillai is an acolyte of Shashi Tharoor and writes in newspapers.

Pillai argues that the religious divide between Hinduism and Islam is not clearly defined that can be grouped into mutually exclusive niches. As he says, black and white were not the colours through which these voices perceived their world. There was an elite visualisation of 'Turks' and there was another of ‘Hindus’, but boundaries between the two were not rigid. He identifies the crystallization to have taken place, at least in the south of India, by the early seventeenth century, in the aftermath of the destruction of the Vijayanagara Empire by the unified onslaught of the Deccan’s Muslim sultanates. Rayavacakamu, a panegyric composed in Madurai in this period shows the consolidation among Hindus of a sense of common identity in competition with Muslims. However, he points out a few mercenaries of the other religion who fought in the armies of Vijayanagara and the Sultanates to vainly ascribe notions of the modern concept of secularism to this medieval battle that was driven on by communal sentiments of the sultanates. Besides, Rayavacakamu is not a reflection of reality, but only an articulation of elite political preoccupations, with one or two agendas. Luckily for the readers, the author does not find any anticipation of the twenty-first century rise of Hindutva in this medieval work of fiction.

The Hindu community is a conglomeration of numerous castes and sects. It is a wonder that this diverse mass somehow manages to stay afloat under a common identity that transcends all the differences. There are upper castes and there are lower castes and it is well known that the upper castes persecuted the lower ones in the past. It is also true that in some parts of the country where the light of emancipation has still not spread adequately, the oppression still lingers on. But what makes this woeful practice in the contemporary society different from the age-old custom is that legal and social recourses are now open for the downtrodden. But scholars like Pillai find it expedient for their divisive philosophy to enhance the dichotomy to the breaking point. They always try to make a split. This book excavates stories from the fourteenth century where Dalits of extreme piety are harassed by the Brahmin elite. He even suggests that to the Brahmin on the street, the ‘Turk’ was not more alien than the untouchable (p.66). It is also suggested that a Malayali is traditionally more strongly linked with Arabia than northern India (p.342)! No references from authentic sources are given in the book to validate this wild hypothesis. It also rules out the principle of purity in the past. Pillai argues that certain sections of people today immerse in a quest to find the ‘true’ essence or purest version of the past. The irony is that such a past does not exist and what exists is not pure, but rich and layered and marvelously complex. The author also gives frequent references to Brahmins and other Hindus in Muslim administrations as proof of the alleged happy state of affairs. However, on that point, the British Raj was beyond reproach as it was practically run by Indians but we still find it alien.

The Mappila riots of 1921 took place in Malabar, Kerala. The riot began in response to Gandhi's call to oppose the British who dispossessed the Ottoman sultan of Turkey from power after the First World War. This incident has no direct relationship to Indian politics, but Gandhi found this ideal to extract support from Muslims, who were indifferent, if not outright hostile, to the freedom struggle. Since the sultan also happened to be the religious leader of Muslims as the caliph, his defeat was cleverly portrayed as an affront to Islam. Muslims in Malabar violently rose up against the British but after receiving some harsh military defeats early on, turned against the Hindus because they were easy targets. Thousands were killed, raped and forcibly converted to Islam. However, leftist historians still show extreme hesitancy to stare the truth in the face. Their favourite line is that the communal riot was a peasant rebellion when in fact it was nothing but ethnic cleansing on the largest scale Kerala has ever seen. Strangely, Pillai concedes that it was indeed communal (p.130). He also admits that unprecedented savagery was unleashed. Hindu and Christian homes were targeted by Mappilas, cows were slaughtered in temples, with assailants putting their entrails on the holy image and hanging on the walls and the roof (p.130). At the same time, he exonerates bigotry in Malabar in the various jihads in the nineteenth century by labeling them as response to provocations. In 1851, he says, a Nair landlord was killed after he forced a Mappila to replace the call to prayer with ‘a summons to eat swine’s flesh’ (p.128). No references are cited for this outrageous assertion.

The author seems to be so turned off by the appearance of national unity in India that he sets out to malign its heroes. He comes up with a few obscure quotes of Swami Vivekananda to ‘prove’ that he thought on caste lines on some occasions. He also accuses that ‘consistency is not Vivekananda’s strong point’ (p.309). The spiritual leader’s real name was Narendranath and Pillai even stoops to comment that he chose the name ‘Vivekananda’ because ‘it rolls easily off the tongue’. Similarly, he churns through some sources to claim that Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi was in fact in league with the British and she turned against them reluctantly. Juxtaposed with this deep calumny against the national heroes, the eulogy of Angami Zapu Phiso is conspicuous by contrast. He was a stout anti-Indian leader of Nagaland who left the country to Britain to fight for Naga independence. Pillai is full of praise for this seditious politician. Readers can't help wondering at the amount of venom these ‘liberal’ intellectuals are spreading. Probably in some future editions of this book, he might even find space for Sant Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale too.

This book is not for serious reading. Probably it would function well in a long train journey. The author has relied on too few sources to accord any semblance of authenticity to the arguments. The only saving grace is the illustrations by Priya Kuriyan. She has made some really nice portraits.

The book is recommended for simple reading.

Rating: 2 Star