द इण्डियन स्ट्रगल / भारतीय स्वाधीनता संग्राम (नेताजी सुभाष चन्द्र बोस - ऐतिहासिक विश्लेषण)

THE SLUMP 137 the leadership of the Swaraj Party, differences broke out between him and his Maharashtrian followers. The breach gradually widened until in an unlucky moment the Pandit lost his patience with them and in a fit of temper, charac- teristic of him, declared that 'the diseased limb (viz., the Maharashtrian group) of the Swaraj Party should be ampu- tated.' This statement so offended the Maharashtrians that they resolved to sever all connection with the Pandit and the Swaraj Party and to start the Responsivist Party. Other dissensions also appeared within the Swaraj Party later on. These developments indicated that while Pandit Motilal Nehru had superior intellectual qualities and a personality that could draw admiration and respect, he lacked that emotional appeal which alone can keep a party together through fair weather and foul. In the domain of Hindu-Moslem relations, too, the Desh- bandhu was a unifying force. His 'Bengal Pact' which had been rejected by the Coconada Congress in December 1923, but had been ratified by the Provincial Conference in May 1924, had served to convince all Moslems that he was their real friend. That such a man was at the head of the Swaraj Party helped to rally Moslem support for that Party and as a matter of fact, the Swaraj Party in the Bengal Legislative Council had a large number of Moslem members who had been elected on a basis of separate electorate. With the death of the Deshbandhu, the Moslem community no longer retained their former confidence in the Swaraj Party. More- over, the political tension created by the Swaraj Party which had served to hold back the rising tide of communalism, subsided after his death and the country was then plunged in inter-communal strife which usurped the field for about two years. There was another unfortunate development following the death of the Deshbandhu—namely the weakening of the extremist attitude of the Party. When the Swaraj Party first came into existence, it had drawn elements both from the Right and from the Left. During the lifetime of the leader the Left elements had the upper hand because he himself belonged to the Left. But in his absence the Right elements were able to raise their head. The emergence of inter-

138 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE communal strife also helped to bring to the fore, people who generally fought shy of politics and who were averse to doing anything which involved suffering and sacrifice. In Bengal the Left Wing was at a disadvantage for some time, because a large number of Congressmen belonging to that group were in prison either under Regulation III of 1818 or under the Bengal Ordinance. From the middle of 1925 onwards there was a gradual watering down of the original Swarajist policy of undiluted opposition. In June, Pandit Motilal Nehru accepted a seat on the Skeen Committee appointed by the Government to report on the Indianisation of the Army. Not long after this, Mr. S. B. Tambe,¹ a prominent member of the Swaraj Party of the Central Provinces, accepted an appointment as a member of the Governor's Executive Council and this step was approved of by Mr. N. C. Kelkar and other prominent Maharashtrian Swarajist leaders. About this time the Indian Legislative Assembly was given the right of electing its own President and Mr. Vithalbhai J. Patel, one of the most thorough-going obstructionists in the Swaraj Party, stood as a candidate and was duly elected to this office. Though the acceptance of that office involved a certain amount of co- operation with the Government, Mr. Patel performed his functions with remarkable ability and conspicuous success—so much so that though he always acted within the limits of the Constitution and with scrupulous fairness, he came to be dreaded by the Treasury Benches for his independent and impartial rulings. The popularity which the Swaraj Party gained during the period of its existence, was due in no small measure to his work as President. Working with a wretched Constitution and without any parliamentary precedents to back him, Mr. Patel was, nevertheless, able to maintain the rights and privileges of the members of the House of which he became the custodian and gave to the Opposition Party and its leader the status they would be entitled to in a free country enjoying a democratic Constitution. In September 1925, the report of the Reforms Enquiry ¹ Mr. Tambe later on became the Acting Governor of the Central Pro- vinces when the Governor went home on leave for some months.

· THE SLUMP 139 Committee better known as the Muddiman Committee, was placed before the Assembly. The Home member, Sir Alexander Muddiman, moved the acceptance of the Majority Report of the committee and as an amendment to that, the Swarajist leader, Pandit Motilal Nehru, put forward what has been called the 'National Demand'. The National Demand, as formulated by the Pandit, was the result of a compromise with non-Swarajist members of the Assembly and represented the Greatest Common Measure of agreement among the non-official members. The National Demand was to the effect that constitutional reforms practically amounting to the immediate grant of Dominion Status should be conceded by the British Parliament and that a Round Table Conference between British and Indian representatives should meet in order to discuss the ways and means for implementing those reforms. The reply given to the demand by the official spokesman in the Assembly at the time and later on by the Viceroy, amounted to a refusal. Before the end of the year, Lala Lajpat Rai, joined the Assembly as a Swarajist and was elected Deputy-Leader of the Party. About this time the Responsivist Party, headed by Mr. M. R. Jayakar and Mr. N. C. Kelkar, the erstwhile Swarajist leaders, was launched. It differed from the Swaraj Party on two main points. It advocated discriminate opposi- tion, as opposed to the Swarajist policy of indiscriminate opposition to the Government in the Legislatures. Further, it did not approve of the pro-Moslem attitude of the Swaraj Party or of the Indian National Congress and on the contrary, it allied itself more with the Hindu Mahasabha. The accen- tuation of Hindu-Moslem differences in 1925 and after, threw more Hindu Congressmen into the arms of the Hindu Maha- sabha and the politics of the Hindu-Mahasabha was, generally speaking, identical with that of the Responsivist Party. Both the Hindu Mahasabha and the Responsivist Party thought that the Moslem community by co-operating with the Government was able to strengthen its position and further its interests, to the detriment of Hindu interests—while the Indian National Congress through its policy of indiscriminate opposition was unable to do anything for the Hindus. This feeling was

140 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE strengthened as a result of the conduct of Mr. (now Sir) Mian Fazli Hussain, who by accepting the office of Minister in the Punjab, was able to promote Moslem interests in that province to the exclusion of Hindu and Sikh interests. The position of the Hindu Mahasabha and of the Responsivist Party received further support from the Hindu community through the reactionary and communal attitude adopted by the Moslem League at its sitting at Aligarh in December, 1925, in which prominent leaders like Moulana Mohammed Ali, Mr. M. A. Jinnah, Sir Abdur Rahim and Sir Ali Imam participated. The next elections to the Legislatures being due in 1926, the 1925 session of the Congress held at Cawnpore had to decide the attitude to be adopted by the Congress on the occasion. It was considered desirable that the Indian National Congress should itself take up the task of running the elec- tions, instead of leaving it to the Swaraj Party. The Cawnpore Congress, presided over by Mrs. Sarojini Naidu,¹ arrived at this decision without much controversy, because by then the opposition of the Mahatma and his orthodox followers had been disarmed, but the question that raised a storm was as to the policy to be followed in the Legislatures. Should it be a policy of unmitigated opposition, or non-co-operation, as originally advocated by the Swaraj Party, or should it be a policy of discriminate opposition—or responsive co-operation —as urged by the newly-formed Responsivist Party? In sup- port of the Swarajist policy, there stood Pandit Motilal Nehru and Lala Lajpat Rai, whereas opposed to them were Pandit M. M. Malaviya, Mr. Jayakar and Mr. Kelkar. The former won the day but before a year passed, Lala Lajpat Rai left the Swarajist fold and together with Pandit Malaviya² formed. ¹ Mrs. Naidu was the second woman to be elected President of the Con- gress, the first being Mrs. Besant who presided over the Calcutta Congress in 1917. A distinguished poetess, she had been closely associated with the Mahatma in the non-co-operation movement since 1920. She con- tinues till to-day as one of his closest adherents and has been a member of the Congress Working Committee with hardly any break. ² Pandit Malaviya, though a veteran Congressman and an ex-President of the Congress, did not accept the Swarajist policy. During the period 1923-26, he was a member of the Assembly but did not belong to the Swaraj Party. After the general election of 1926 he continued as an Independent. The change in the politics of Lala Lajpat Rai was due to the Hindu-Moslem tension in the Punjab and the influence of the Hindu Mahasabha.

THE SLUMP 141 the Independent Party which played the same rôle in Northern India as the Responsivist Party did in Central and Western India. By the time Lala Lajpat Rai left the Swaraj Party, another prominent personality joined that Party. He was Mr. Srinivasa Iyengar, former Advocate-General¹ of Madras and the leader of the Madras Bar. Mr. Iyengar on being returned to the Assembly in 1926 was at once elected Deputy-Leader of the Party and soon after, was elected President of the 1926 session of the Congress held at Gauhati in Assam. The general attitude of the Government after the death of Deshbandhu Das was on the whole reactionary. The only exception was in the matter of the abolition of the Excise Duty, which welcome event took place in December 1925.. The Excise Duty was first imposed as a tax on Indian mill- made cloth in 1894. The ostensible object of this duty was to obtain revenue for the Government but the real object was to help the British textile industry, which did not view with equanimity the growth of an indigenous textile industry in India. Though since 1916 the duty on textile imports had been kept at a higher level than the Excise Duty on Indian mill products, the latter was keenly resented by Indian Nationalists and especially by the Indian business community. The abolition of the duty was therefore meant as a sop to the Indian textile interests. Beyond this Act, no other friendly gesture was made by the Government in India or in England. The Labour Party, however, made a friendly move by adopting the Commonwealth of India Bill drafted by Mrs. Besant for conferring Home Rule on India and authorised Mr. George Lansbury to introduce it as a Private Bill in the House of Commons. The Bill received its first reading in December 1925, but it proved to be still-born. Nevertheless, it had some value as a gesture. The history of 1926 is largely a history of Hindu-Moslem strife. As happens everywhere, the slackening of the Nationalist movement diverted the energies of the people to internal questions and disputes. The abolition of the Khalifate by the Turks in 1924 led many of the Nationalist Moslems in India ¹ The position of the Advocate-General of Madras would correspond to the position of the Solicitor-General in England.

142 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE to give up the Khilafat movement and to divert their whole attention to the Nationalist cause. But some of the Nationalists as well as the more reactionary Moslems continued to keep up the Khilafat Committees, as Moulana Shaukat Ali did in Bombay, and where that was not possible, they started other organisations of a sectarian and reactionary character, under different names. This reactionary movement among the Moslems called forth a similar reactionary movement among the Hindus and branches of the Hindu Mahasabha began to grow up all over the country. The Hindu Mahasabha, like its Moslem counterpart, consisted not only of erstwhile Nationalists, but also of a large number of men who were afraid of participating in a political movement and wanted a safer platform for themselves. The growth of sectarian movements among both Hindus and Moslems accentuated intercommunal tension. The opportunity was availed of by interested third parties who wanted to see the two com- munities fight, so that the Nationalist forces could be weakened. The causes which generally led to intercommunal rioting were the slaughter of cows which outraged Hindu feelings and the playing of music before mosques at prayer- time, which gave offence to Moslem feelings. Friction would also be caused if a Moslem mosque or a Hindu temple was defiled in any way. Once there was a mental tension between the two communities in a particular locality, such incidents could easily throw the spark to light the flame of communal passion and it was not difficult for third parties to employ agents to do this dirty work. The worst episode in the events of 1926 was the Hindu- Moslem riots in Calcutta which broke out in May and again in July. The trouble arose through an Arya Samajist¹ proces- sion playing music while passing before a mosque. The Arya Samajists claimed that they had been having the procession for many years without any trouble. The Moslems declared on the contrary that the music was interfering with their worship inside the mosque. Fighting went on for many days and many were killed on both sides. Ultimately when both parties ¹ As explained in Section III of the Introduction, the Arya Samaj is a reformist sect of the Hindus with a large following in Upper India.

THE SLUMP 143 were exhausted, they made peace. Though matters did not reach a crisis elsewhere as it did in Calcutta, there was con- siderable tension all over the country. For the Congress Party the hour was dark. The elections to the Legislatures were due in November and they were going to be held under the shadow of Hindu-Moslem riots. The field would not be as open to Congressmen as it had been in 1923. New organisations representing reactionary Hindus and reactionary Moslems had come into existence and they would put up their own candidates. During the elections of 1926 a strong propaganda was carried on by a section of the Moslems to the effect that if the Hindus were going to carry on their non- co-operation with the Government, the Moslems should have nothing to do with them, but should endeavour to work the Constitution. On the other side the Hindu Mahasabha raised the cry that if the Hindus non-co-operated while the Moslems secured the help of the Government, they would be placing themselves at a serious disadvantage as compared with the Moslems. The Hindu Mahasabha therefore urged the modi- fication of the Swarajist policy of non-co-operation. Never- theless, among the Hindu electorate the influence of the Congress was much greater than that of the Hindusabha, though among the Moslem electorate, the influence of reactionary and sectarian organisations proved to be stronger than that of the Congress at the General Election of 1926. The General Election of November 1926, being contested by Nationalists in the name of the Congress, there was a great improvement in their strength in many of the Provincial Legislatures, e.g., in Madras and Bihar. The whole-hearted co-operation of all sections of Congressmen, which was not forthcoming in 1923 when the Swaraj Party ran the elections, was responsible for the improvement. But in one respect the election results were worse than in 1923. In 1923 a large number of Nationalist Moslems had been elected as Swarajists but in 1926 their places were generally taken by their reac- tionary co-religionists. In provinces like Bengal and Punjab with a large Moslem population, the situation inside the Legislatures was not favourable for the Congress Party. In the Central Provinces which had been the stronghold of

144 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE Swarajism and in a portion of the Bombay Presidency, the Nationalist strength was divided, because of the formation of the Responsivist Party. With the formation of a Respon- sivist Party in the Central Provinces Legislative Council and of a Moslem bloc in the Bengal Legislative Council, it became possible for the Government to appoint Ministers in these two provinces, where none had existed for three years. In the Indian Legislative Assembly also, the Nationalist strength being somewhat weakened by the formation of a Responsivist bloc on the one side and by a Moslem bloc on the other, the Government had a comparatively easier time than they had in the previous Assembly. Apart from the Legislatures, a certain amount of disintegration was also visible in the rank and file of the Congress. In provinces like Punjab, Bombay Presidency and the Central Provinces, this was due to the activities of the Responsivist Party. In provinces like Bengal where the Responsivists had little influence, the disintegration was caused by warring factions within the Congress Party. In Bengal after the death of Deshbandhu Das, through the influence and support of the Mahatma, the late Mr. J. M. Sengupta had succeeded to the leadership. He had not been in office for a year before opposition to his leadership appeared. The opposition ultimately crystallised under the leadership of Mr. B. N. Sasmal, at one time a most popular figure in Bengal Congress circles. The fight went on till 1927. For some time there were two rival Provincial Congress Commit- tees in Bengal and in the elections to the Calcutta Municipal Corporation, held in March 1927, two sets of Congress candidates were set up. Mr. Sasmal’s party was defeated in this fight and that led to his temporary retirement. In the face of dissensions outside and inside the Congress, the leaders had a trying time in 1926. For a time it looked as if nothing could stem the rot that had set in. The brunt of the responsibility had to be borne by Pandit Motilal Nehru who was deprived of the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi, who had retired from active politics, and of Deshbandhu Das who had died the year before. The National Demand put forward by him in the Assembly in September 1925, had been turned down by the Government. In the circumstances what

THE SLUMP 145 could he do? He was not in a position to start a campaign of civil disobedience in the country. Therefore he decided to withdraw from the Assembly as a protest against the attitude of the Government. Much adverse criticism was made of this decision at the time—nevertheless, there is hardly any doubt that there was no alternative to this step except one of abject acquiescence in the policy of the Government. In March 1926, after a speech exceedingly dignified but somewhat defeatist in its tone, Pandit Motilal Nehru walked out of the Assembly followed by all the Swarajist members. Following this move in the Assembly, the Swaraj Party also withdrew from the Provincial Legislatures. But the dark clouds of 1926 had a silver lining. In spite of inter-communal dissensions and disturbances, the production of Khadi was going up by leaps and bounds. Freed from other distractions, the Mahatma was able to concentrate on this work. Under his leadership the All-India Spinners' Association was extending its branches all over the country. Through this organisation, the Mahatma was once again building up his own party which was to be of invaluable service to him when he desired to recapture the Congress machinery once again. To make up partly for the many defections in the Congress Party, Mr. Srinivasa Iyengar joined the party wholeheartedly about this time. He had great reputation and prestige in the Madras Presidency and this he placed at the disposal of the Congress. Through his help the movement in the Madras Presidency was greatly strengthened and a strong Congress Party was set up in the Madras Legislative Council. In the Assembly he performed with great ability the duties of the Deputy-Leader of the Congress Party. After presiding over the Gauhati Congress in December 1926, he spent a very busy time in going round the country for restoring inter-communal unity. In this task he was assisted by the Ali brothers who were actively associated with the Congress till 1928, though their estrange- ment with the Mahatma began in 1926.¹ ¹ It is generally believed that the estrangement between the Ali brothers and the Mahatma took place over the Hindu-Moslem riots at Kohat in Beluchistan. In this dispute the Ali brothers took the side of the Moslems and complained that the Mahatma had taken the side of the Hindus. K

146 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE The most encouraging sign of the year was the awakening among the youth all over the country. They were disgusted with the narrow sectarianism of the older generation and wanted to chasten public life with the pure breath of nationalism. The youth movement appeared under different names in different provinces, but the impulse behind it was the same everywhere. There was a feeling of impatience and revolt at the rotten state of affairs—a sense of self-confidence and a consciousness of the responsibility which they had towards their country. In Punjab the movement appeared under the name of the Naujawan Bharat Sabha and was to play an important rôle in the years to come. In Nagpur, the capital of the Central Provinces, the youths started on their own responsibility, a movement called the Arms Act Satya- graha.. The object of this campaign was to defy the Arms Act which prohibited Indians from possessing or bearing arms, and it was started by a popular local Congress leader, Mr. Awari, who was given the title of ‘General’ by his followers. It was announced at the commencement of the campaign, that the Satyagraha movement was being started as a protest against the conduct of the Government who had imprisoned without trial a large number of public workers in Bengal. Taking advantage of the weakness of the Congress in 1926, the Government continued its reactionary policy in 1927, though since April 1926, India had a new Viceroy in Lord Irwin, who was of a totally different stamp from his pre- decessor Lord Reading. The report of the Skeen Committee was published in April 1927 and it provided that one-half of the cadre of the Indian Army would be completely Indianised in twenty-five years. The report of the Committee was disappointing and it was not signed by Pandit Motilal Nehru who had resigned his membership of the Committee before the report was drafted. But even the meagre recommendations of the Committee, which by the way was presided over by the Chief of Staff of the Indian Army, were not given effect to, at the instance of the Secretary of State for India, Lord Birkenhead. The mala fides of the Government will be all the more evident from the fact that during Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru's tenure of office as member of the Viceroy’s Executive

THE SLUMP 147 Council, the Army Staff had prepared a plan whereby the whole army could be Indianised within thirty years. Another unwelcome move of the Government in 1927 was the stabilisation of the rupee at 1s. 6d. The traditional exchange ratio was 1s. 4d. and this was favourable to India. In the teeth of popular opposition, the Government fixed the exchange ratio at 1s. 6d. By artificially increasing the value of the rupee by 12½ per cent., the Finance Member, Sir Basil Blackett, automatically put a premium on imports into India. But that was not the only disadvantage which India was subjected to. As a result of the new ratio, the Indian peasant producing raw material for the world market received so much less money than before and his purchasing power in relation to Indian goods was thereby considerably reduced. There is no doubt that the new ratio was responsible to a large extent in accentuating the economic crisis in India. Along with the new ratio, Sir Basil Blackett wanted to have an Indian Reserve Bank as a part of his' plan for controlling the currency—but this Bill¹ was fortunately thrown out by the Assembly and the Viceroy did not make it law through 'certification.' The only event of a somewhat satisfactory nature during the earlier half of 1927 was the Capetown Pact between India and South Africa. The Government of South Africa headed by General Hertzog, an ardent nationalist, wanted to adopt a dual policy of segregation and repatriation with regard to the Indian settlers. A delegation was sent from India, composed of Sir Mohammed Habibullah, the Right Hon. V. S. Sastri and Sir George Paddison to plead the cause of the Indians. As a result of their persuasion, the following agreement was arrived at. The Areas Reservation Bill for segregating Indians was altogether abandoned by the South African Government. Emigration of Indians was, however, to be encouraged, though a higher bonus would be given than before. Indians born in South Africa who wanted to ¹ The Bill was first ruled out of order by the Assembly President, Mr. V. J. Patel, whereafter it was introduced again in an altered form. The Congress Party succeeded in throwing out the section relating to the management of the Bank, whereupon the Bill was withdrawn by Sir Basil Blackett.

148 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE make that country their home, were to be assisted by the Government to attain the 'White' standard of life. Though the Pact was only partially satisfactory, it was better than nothing and the Viceroy, Lord Irwin, fully supported the Indian case in this matter. The Pact provided for an 'Agent' of the Indian Government who would reside in South Africa and Mr. Sastri was sent out from India as the first 'Agent.' In the international sphere the step taken by England in breaking off relations with Russia in 1927, was to have repercussions in India. Since then the activities of the Communist Party in India increased considerably. This was helped by the weakening of the Nationalist forces in the country and the growth of labour unrest in 1927 and 1928.

CHAPTER VII IN BURMESE PRISONS¹ (1925-27) IN the early hours of the morning of October 25th, 1924, I was roused from my sleep as I was wanted by some police- officers. The Deputy-Commissioner of Police, Calcutta, on meeting me, said: 'Mr. Bose, I have a very unpleasant duty to perform. I have a warrant for your arrest under Regulation III of 1818." He then produced another warrant authorising him to search my house for arms, explosives, ammunition, etc. Since no arms, etc., were forthcoming, he had to content himself with taking a pile of papers and correspondence. To avoid public attention, he drove me to prison in his own car -but so utterly unexpected was my arrest that known faces, whom I met on my way, never thought that my destination was His Majesty's Prison at Alipore. At the Alipore New Central Jail I was surprised to find that there were others in the same boat with me. The prison authorities did not seem to be happy to receive us. Special arrangements had to be made for segregating us from the rest of the prison population and they had hardly any surplus accommodation. As the day advanced, our numbers began to swell and to our great delight (there is nothing so welcome in prison as companion- ship) when the time for evening lock-up came, we found that we were eighteen in number. As I was the Chief Executive Officer of the Calcutta Municipal Corporation at the time, my sudden arrest dis- located the work of the Municipality. The Government therefore gave special orders that till the beginning of Decem- ber I could attend to my office work in prison and that my Secretary could see me from time to time with office files and documents. In all these interviews a police-officer would ¹ The writer has been in custody eight times but he has tried to chronicle the events of only one such experience, since it is more interesting than the others. 149

150 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE be present besides a jail-officer and usually some of the worst police-officers would be detailed to conduct these interviews. I had frequent trouble with them and had to put up with a great deal of unpleasantness and on some occasions I had to rebuke some of them for their impertinence. As a punish- ment I was given orders of transfer to another prison (Ber- hampore Jail) in the interior of the province where it would be difficult for people to interview me. Neither at Alipore nor at Berhampore did I have much trouble with the prison- staff. Some of the Government orders were of course humiliating, but for that we did not blame the prison-staff. My trouble with the police-officers, however, continued at Berhampore. Most of my time was spent in study and many were the plans we discussed about the work that we would do when we left prison once again. As the arrests continued from day to day, the prison population began to increase to our great delight. My stay at Berhampore did not last more than two months. On January 25th, 1925, I suddenly received orders of transfer to Calcutta. On my way I learnt to my great surprise that my real destination was Mandalay Prison in Upper Burma. At midnight I reached Calcutta and was taken to the Lalbazar Police-Station to spend the night there. The room in the police-station was a dirty hole and thanks to mosquitoes and bugs, it was impossible to have a wink of sleep. The sanitary arrangements were horribly bad and there was no privacy at all. I then realised the truth of what others had said before, namely, that if there is a hell on earth, it is the Lalbazar Police-Station. As I lay down, counting the number of beams in the ceiling to while away the time, I heard familiar voices in an adjoining room. So the good Government had sent me companions even there! In the early hours of the morning when it was still dark, a police-officer appeared on the scene. This was Mr. Lowman, Assistant-Inspector General of Police, who, we learned later, was to escort us to Mandalay. The doors of the cells were opened and out came seven familiar faces, all bound for the same destination. A surprise indeed! Under cover of darkness, surrounded by armed guards, we came out of the police-station. Two prison vans were standing

IN BURMESE PRISONS 151 in front with their doors invitingly open. In one, our worldly belongings were placed; in the other the living luggage was deposited. With terrific speed, the prison vans moved out of the yard and merged in the darkness that still hung over the landscape. After a while both the vans drew up and as we alighted, we realised that we were on the river bank. There was a ship standing near the bank, but we were all put into a small motor-boat. For three hours we cruised about on the river and when it was time for the ship to sail, we were quietly taken up into the ship from the farther side. By nine o'clock in the morning, we were sailing down the river towards the sea. In front of our cabins, heavily-armed guards were stationed and great was the curiosity of the other passengers to know who we were and why these elaborate arrangements had been made. When we reached the high seas, the armed guards in front of our cabins were withdrawn and only plain-clothes officers were left to look after us. Our four days' voyage was rather interesting. Mr. Lowman was jovial and communicative and we discussed all possible subjects, including our estimate of Governors, Executive Councillors, public leaders, etc. I even raised the question of the torture of political prisoners by the police. Mr. Low- man at first denied the charge, but at the end he admitted that on some occasions such misdeeds had been committed. On the whole, though I began with a strong prejudice against him, I came to hold a favourable opinion of him and this opinion was confirmed as a result of my subsequent meetings and talks with him. The night before we reached Rangoon, Mr. Lowman had almost a nightmare. He complained in the morning that he could not sleep well as he dreamt that some of the state prisoners had escaped through the port-hole in the evening. From Rangoon to Mandalay it was a long journey of twenty hours. We had a very large police escort and at every stop on our way, they would line up on both sides of the train. From the fuss they made, one would think that we were either high state-officials or wild animals. Till then Mandalay was but a name to us. I had a hazy idea that it was the capital of the last independent kingdom of Burma and the scene of the second Burmese war. But I

152 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE remembered distinctly that it was the place where Lokamanya Tilak had been imprisoned for nearly six years and later on Lala Lajpat Rai for about a year. It gave us therefore some consolation and pride to feel that we were following in their footsteps. From the station we drove inside the fort to the prison and we passed on our way the houses in which Lalaji and Sardar Ajit Singh had lived during their internment. Outlined against the morning sky we saw beautiful structures which, we were told, were the palace and state-buildings of the old kingdom. The memory of the good old days that were no more, produced a pang in our hearts and we began to wonder when Burma would once more be able to fly her flag of independence. As our carriages drew up in front of the grey walls of Mandalay Prison, our day-dreaming came to an end. The massive gates of the prison-house yawned and we were soon swallowed up. The interior of a Burmese prison is somewhat different from that of an Indian prison and the first few minutes were spent in examining our new surroundings. The first thing we realised was that the jail-buildings were built not of stone nor of brick, but of wooden palisading. The buildings looked exactly like cages in a zoo or in a circus. From the outside and especially at night, the inmates of these buildings appeared almost like animals prowling about behind the bars. Within these structures we were at the mercy of the elements. There was nothing to protect us from the biting cold of winter or the intense heat of summer or the tropical rains in Mandalay. We all began to wonder how we were going to live our life there. But there was no help and we had to make the best of a bad situation. In the yard adjoining ours, so we were told, Lokamanya Tilak had spent about six years of his life. Among the prison-staff we found many men who had been there when Lokamanya Tilak was a prisoner. From them and later on from the Inspector-General of Prisons himself, we heard interesting anecdotes of him and how he spent his days in prison. Not less interesting for us than the anecdotes were the lemon-trees which he had planted with his own hands. From one of the state prisoners, Mr. Jibon Lal Chatterji, who had preceded us, we took our first lessons in

IN BURMESE PRISONS 153 the Burmese language. I was not there long before I devel- oped a strong liking for the Burmese people. There is some- thing in them which one cannot help liking. They are exceedingly warm-hearted, frank and jovial in their tem- perament. They are of course quick-tempered and are sometimes liable to lose their self-control when under the influence of temper. But that did not appear to me as a very serious shortcoming. What struck me greatly was the innate artistic sense which every Burman has. If they have any faults, it is their extreme naïveté and absence of all feeling against foreigners. In fact I was told later that for a Burmese woman, a foreigner has greater attraction than a member of her own community. Our Superintendent, Captain (later on, Major) Smith, was exceedingly nice in his dealings with us and there was never any misunderstanding between us. Even when we had to fight the Government or go on hunger-strike, our friendly relations were not disturbed. With the Chief Jailor we had frequent trouble and we would receive constant pin-pricks from him. He would justify himself by saying that he had to act under orders, but till the end I was not able to find out who was really responsible for these pin-pricks. However, after some time, when the subordinate staff realised that if we were given trouble we could also make trouble, they settled down to a friendly alliance with us. The head of the Prison Department was Lieut.-Col. Tarapore, a Parsi gentleman, a very tactful, intelligent and well-meaning official. Though state-prisoners in Mandalay or in other prisons of Burma had occasional misunderstandings with him, I must admit and that with great pleasure, that on the whole he endeavoured to treat us well. His difficulty was that in the first place, the Bengal Government who were ultimately responsible for us, were exceedingly vindictive. Secondly, the Government of India, the highest authority in the land, were too far away and too indifferent. Thirdly, the Burma Government, though not vindictive towards us, did not want to do any- thing on their own responsibility. Lieut.-Col. Tarapore was a great enthusiast of prison-reform and at his instance the Burma Government invited Mr. Patterson, one of His

154 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE Majesty's Prison Commissioners in England, to visit Burma and advise them on prison-reform there. But with all his enthusiasm Lieut.-Col. Tarapore could not achieve much because of his reactionary environment. I remember that a very important piece of reform which he had once attempted had to be given up because of opposition in other quarters. To the ordinary Burman, accustomed to smoking tobacco from a very early age, tobacco is more important than food. As tobacco was banned in Burmese prisons, the prisoners 'would commit innumerable jail-offences in trying to smuggle it from outside. The Inspector-General of Prisons rightly thought that if tobacco were given to the prisoners in a legal way, there would be a drop in the number of prison-offences and the illegal traffic would also be stopped to a large extent. He, therefore, introduced a rule that as a reward for good behaviour prisoners would be given a certain quantity of tobacco every day. Though 'the reform was not sufficiently far-reaching, it was an improvement on the existing state of things. The experiment was tried for a year but at the end of that period, most of the Prison Superintendents reported against the experiment and the Finance Department also raised difficulty about funds. The reform had consequently to be dropped. Towards the end of our stay in Burma, another important reform was attempted by him. Prisoners were taken out of prison and employed for road-making. They were accommodated in camps, were allowed more freedom than in prison and were also given a certain allowance in addition to their food. I do not know what the ultimate result of the experiment was, but about the time that I left Burma, difficulty was being experienced in finding suitable officers for running these camps. In our talks with him, the Inspector-General used to complain that he did not have officials possessing the necessary education and character who could forget their prison-environment and treat the prisoners as human beings. During my stay in Burma I was able to make a study of criminal psychology and of the problems of prison-reform. In supplying us with necessary literature, the Inspector- General was of great assistance. The prison population in the

IN BURMESE PRISONS 155 different jails in Burma also afforded a valuable subject- matter for study. It is neither possible nor necessary to give here some of the results of my study and observation, but I shall content myself with making one observation. It is generally thought that those who are convicted for murder, are the worst specimens of humanity and are past redemption. On the contrary, my experience is that among the prisoners, murderers are generally a better type. This is so at least in those cases in which murder has been committed in a fit of temper or temporary insanity. Professional thieves and pick- pockets, on the other hand, represent the worst type. In the condemned cells (where prisoners are locked before they are hanged) I would see from time to time fine specimens of humanity, sometimes boys in their 'teens, who were going to be hanged simply because they had lost their self-control for a moment and killed someone in a fit of temper. The ease with which the High Court in Burma would confirm death sentences appeared amazing to me. The conduct of the High Court was all the more monstrous in view of the fact that in Burma people had for centuries been accustomed to take the law into their own hands and Upper Burma and Mandalay had come under British rule as late as 1885. From time to time we would receive visits from many interesting people including officials. From the Home Member down to the petty magistrate no one would ignore us, since Indian state prisoners were to them interesting specimens of humanity. Among the visitors was Mr. Patter- son, a Prison Commissioner from England, who greeted us as 'eight of the most dangerous men in India.' A regular visitor was Mr. Brown, the Deputy-Commissioner (i.e., 'District Officer) of Mandalay. Whatever may have been his attitude towards the people of Mandalay, with the state prisoners his dealings were those of a straightforward gentleman. He was a cultured man and we enjoyed our discussions with him. He was, moreover, helpful to us in supplying literature and in mediating, whenever we fell out with the prison officials. Our relations with the prison officials suddenly became strained, when Captain Smith went on leave. He was succeeded by Major Findlay. While

156 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE Captain Smith had a genial temperament, Major Findlay had a rough exterior and a rather saturnine temperament. We soon fell out with Major Findlay over trifling matters and this led to hunger-strike. Through Mr. Brown's med- iation, the misunderstanding was however cleared up. There- after, when we came to know one another more intimately, I discovered that he was an exceedingly nice and straight- forward man. Another official who acted as Superintendent for a time, was Major Sheppard, with whom there was constant friction, but since he did not stay long, matters did not reach a crisis. Ours was not the first batch of state prisoners to be deported to Burma. About a year before we arrived, another batch had been sent across there. When the first batch came they were not confined in the same prison, but were transferred in twos to different prisons in Burma. They had a very hard time and as they were separated, they could not put up a joint fight for improving their conditions. During this period two of the state prisoners, Mr. Jibon Lal Chatterji and Mr. Bhupendra Kumar Dutt, sent a representation to the then Secretary of State for India, Lord Olivier, severely criticising the conduct of the Political Branch of the Bengal Police, called in India, the Intelligence Branch. The main thesis was that agent-provocateurs were employed by the police for entrap- ping innocent but over-enthusiastic young men and that the bogey of a revolutionary conspiracy was deliberately raised by the Intelligence Branch because they could thereby draw extra allowances, like 'danger allowance,' and could also have at their disposal, large sums of money for employing informers. Certain facts and figures were given by way of substantiating this charge. This letter somehow found its way to the Indian Press and after its publication, it was quoted by the Swarajist leader, Pandit Motilal Nehru, in a speech in the Assembly, attacking the policy of imprisoning people without trial. The publication of the letter so annoyed the Government that severe restrictions were imposed on the state prisoners in Burma. After some time the temper of the Government cooled down and the state prisoners were allowed then to come together in one prison. An exception was however