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

THE STORM BREAKS 67 at Mani Bhuvan, the usual residence of the Mahatma in Bombay, I was ushered into a room covered with Indian carpets. Almost in the centre, facing the door, sat the Mahatma surrounded by some of his closest followers. All were clad in home-made Khadi. As I entered the room, I felt somewhat out of place in my foreign costume and could not help apologising for it. The Mahatma received me with his characteristic hearty smile and soon put me at ease and the conversation started at once. I desired to obtain a clear understanding of the details—the successive stages—of his plan, leading on step by step to the ultimate seizure of power from the foreign bureaucracy. To that end I began to heap question upon question and the Mahatma replied with his habitual patience. There were three points which needed elucidation. Firstly, how were the different activities con- ducted by the Congress going to culminate in the last stage of the campaign, namely, the non-payment of taxes? Secondly, how could mere non-payment of taxes or civil disobedience force the Government to retire from the field and leave us with our freedom? Thirdly, how could the Mahatma promise ‘Swaraj’ (that is, Home Rule) within one year—as he had been doing ever since the Nagpur Congress? His reply to the first question satisfied me. The response to his appeal for ten million members and ten million rupees having been found to be satisfactory, he had proceeded to the next item in his plan—namely, the boycott of foreign cloth and the propagation of home-made Khadi. During the next few months, his efforts would be concentrated on the Khadi campaign. And he expected that the Government would take the initiative in attacking the Congress, the moment it realised that the peaceful constructive activities of the Congress were proving to be successful. When the Government did so, the time would come for disobeying governmental decrees and marching to prison. The prisons would before long be filled to overflowing and then would come the last stage of the campaign—namely, the non-payment of taxes. The Mahatma’s replies to the other two questions were not convincing. I asked him if he expected that the boycott movement would create so much distress in Lancashire that

68 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE pressure would be brought to bear on Parliament and the Cabinet to make peace with India. But the Mahatma gave me to understand that he did not consider that to be the means whereby the Government would be forced to come to terms with the Congress. What his real expectation was, I was unable to understand. Either he. did not want to give out all his secrets prematurely or he did not have a clear conception of the tactics whereby the hands of the Govern- ment could be forced.¹ Altogether, his reply to the second question was disappointing and his reply to the third was no better. What was to him a question of faith—namely, that Swaraj would be won within one year—was by no means clear to me and personally speaking, I was prepared to work for a much longer period. However, I had no other course but to feel thankful for what I had been able to learn after an hour's conversation. But though I tried to persuade myself at the time there must have been a lack of understanding on my part, my reason told me clearly, again and again, that there was a deplorable lack of clarity in the plan which the Mahatma had formulated and that he himself did not have a clear idea of the successive stages of the campaign which would bring India to her cherished goal of freedom. Depressed and disappointed as I was, what was I to do? The Mahatma advised me to report myself to Deshbandhu C. R. Das on reaching Calcutta. I had already written to the latter from Cambridge that I had resigned the Indian Civil Service and had decided to join the political movement. Stories had reached us in England that he had given up his princely career at the Bar and was going to devote his whole time to political work, while making a gift of his entire property to the nation. In my eagerness to meet this great man, I overcame the somewhat depressing effect of my interview with Mahatma Gandhi and I left Bombay with the same excitement and the same enthusiasm with which I had landed there. On reaching Calcutta, I went straight to the house of Deshbandhu Das. Once again I was disappointed. ¹Looking back on the incident to-day, it strikes me that possibly the Mahatma expected a 'change of heart' on the part of the British Govern- ment, leading to an acceptance of India's national demands.

·THE STORM BREAKS 69 He was out on a long tour in the interior of the province and I had no option but to wait for his return. When I heard that he was back, I called again. He was out at the time but I was received with great kindness and cordiality by his wife, Srijukta Basanti Debi. Before long he arrived on the scene. I can still picture before my mind's eye his massive figure as he approached me. He was not the same Mr. Das whom I had once approached for advice when he was one of the leaders of the Calcutta Bar and I a student, expelled from the University for political reasons. He was not the same Mr. Das who was earning thousands in a day and spending thousands in an hour. Though his house was no longer a palace, he was however the same Mr. Das, who had always been a friend of youth, could understand their aspirations and sympathise with their sorrows. During the course of our conversation I began to feel that here was a man who knew what he was about—who could give all that he had and who could demand from others all they could give—a man to whom youthfulness was not a short- coming but a virtue. By the time our conversation came to an end my mind was made up. I felt that I had found a leader and I meant to follow him. On settling down in Calcutta I proceeded to take stock of the situation in the country and particularly in the province of Bengal. Throughout the country there was unparalleled enthusiasm. The 'triple boycott' had been fairly successful. Though the legislatures were not empty, no Congressmen had gone there. The lawyers had on the whole made a good response and the student community had come out of the ordeal with flying colours.¹ The appeal for Congress members and for funds had borne good fruit and feeling highly en- couraged at the state of affairs, the Mahatma had launched in July a campaign for the boycott of foreign cloth and the revival of spinning and weaving. On the anniversary of the death of Lokamanya Tilak, August 1st, 1934, there were huge bonfires of foreign cloth all over the country. A symbolic meaning was also given by the Congress leaders to these ¹ The people had taken up enthusiastically the propaganda for the re- moval of untouchability and for the stoppage of the drink and drug traffic.

70 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE bonfires which were to burn to ashes all the dross, all the dirt and all the weakness that was in the country. The whole-hearted support of the Moslem community and the novelty of the method of non-co-operation brought more strength to the movement, while the slogan of 'Swaraj within one year' drew into the field many people who would have been appalled by the prospect of a long period of suffering. In Bengal two important events took place—the Assam- Bengal Railway Strike and the no-tax campaign in Midnapore District. The railway strike paralysed completely all rail and steamer traffic in East Bengal and Assam. The strike was conducted under the leadership of the Bengal Congress Committee and in the earlier stages it was so successful that it made the people conscious of the power that they could wield if only they could combine against the authorities. As a timely settlement was not made, the strike dragged on for a long period and it ultimately collapsed, bringing disaster in its train. It was in connection with this strike that Mr. J. M. Sengupta first came into prominence before the public eye. The other event of importance was the no-tax campaign in Midnapore District. In 1919 at the instance of Sir S. P. Sinha (afterwards Lord Sinha), a member of the Execu- tive Council of the Governor of Bengal, an Act had been passed purporting to introduce a measure of Self-Government for the villages—whereby union-boards would be established for every group of villages in the province. There had been considerable criticism of this measure mainly on two grounds —firstly, the power that should be transferred to the villagers was still retained in the hands of the district officials (for instance, the power to appoint and dismiss village policemen) and secondly, the establishment of union-boards entailed additional taxation in return for which no advantages would accrue. The Act provided that it was open to the Provincial Government to introduce it in any district or withdraw it therefrom. Under the leadership of Mr. B. N. Sasmal, an advocate, the people of Midnapore started an agitation for the withdrawal of the Act from their district and to strengthen their demand, they refused to pay the taxes imposed by the newly-established union-boards. The usual repressive

THE STORM BREAKS 71 measures were taken to force the new Act on the district. Forcible seizure of property, harassment and prosecution of the villagers, intimidation by military police and by soldiers—all were tried but without success. The orgy of repression continued throughout the year 1921, but the Act had ultimately to be withdrawn in 1922. The success of this no-tax campaign gave considerable strength and self-con- fidence to the people of Midnapore and popularity to their leader, Mr. B. N. Sasmal. It is necessary to interrupt our narrative here and to refer to the attitude adopted by the authorities in 1921. At first, the Viceroy, Lord Chelmsford, did not take Mahatma Gandhi seriously. In January, the Duke of Connaught, uncle of the present King, visited India with the object of inaugurating the new legislatures. His visit was boycotted by the Indian National Congress and there were boycott demonstrations wherever the Duke went. These demonstrations annoyed the Government of India and their attitude of indifferent neutrality began to change slowly. In April, Lord Chelmsford was succeeded by Lord Reading, the brilliant ex-Lord Chief Justice of England. Soon after his arrival, in the month of May, an interview was arranged between him and Mahatma Gandhi. At this interview, Lord Reading gave an assurance to the Mahatma that he would not interfere with the work of the Congress as long as there was no resort to violence. He further stated that in a speech of his, Moulana Mohammed Ali, the right-hand man of the Mahatma, had made an appeal for resorting to violence and that the Government were thinking of prosecuting him. The Mahatma promised to see to it that the Moulana gave a public assurance that he would eschew violence in every way and this promise was duly carried out. Though there was nothing wrong or humiliating in the whole affair, to the public eye it appeared as if both the Mahatma and the Moulana had been outmanœuvred by the astute Viceroy. Though the contemplated prosecution of Moulana Mohammed Ali was dropped after this interview, he and other Moslem leaders were arrested in September for their participation in the Khalifat Conference at Karachi in August and were sentenced to two years' 'rigorous im-

72 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE prisonment.' At this Conference, a resolution was passed calling upon all Moslems to give up service under the Govern- ment, whether in a civil or in a military capacity and this constituted a breach of the law. After the conviction of the Ali brothers and their associates, Mahatma Gandhi came forward to take up the challenge. The same resolution was signed and published by forty-six Congress leaders, and it was repeated from a thousand platforms all over India. But the Government did not make a single arrest and took no notice of this defiance on the part of the Congress. In September, the Indian Legislative Assembly—the Central Parliament set up under the New Constitution—passed a resolution urging an examination and revision of the con- stitution earlier than 1929. No immediate reply to this came from the side of the Government but the following year, the Secretary of State for India, Lord Peel, in a dispatch on the subject dated November 3rd, 1922, stated that it was too early to contemplate a revision of the constitution. From the above narrative it might appear as if throughout 1921 Mahatma Gandhi was riding on the crest of a wave and had no obstacles to encounter. This impression is not alto- gether correct. No doubt there was a tremendous volume of mass opinion on his side—but so far as the intelligentsia were concerned, there were certain elements opposed to him. In the first place, the Indian Liberals were everywhere arrayed against him and in most provinces, they had accepted office as Ministers. This co-operation on the part of the Liberals was the direct result of the efforts of Mr. Montagu, the Secretary of State for India and as long as he remained in office—that is, till March 1922—they were enthusiastically in support of the Constitution. After his resignation from the British Cabinet, reaction set in and Liberal leaders began to feel that it was becoming increasingly difficult for them to continue their co-operation. In April 1922, Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru resigned from the Executive Council of the Viceroy and in May 1923, Mr. Chintamani, Liberal leader of the United Provinces, resigned the office of Minister of Education in that province. Gradually the Liberals all turned against the Government and by 1927 the change was so great

THE STORM BREAKS 73 that when the Simon Commission was appointed, Congress- men and Liberals could preach boycott from the same platform. Closely allied with the Indian Liberals in mentality and outlook were the University authorities who had been hard hit by the Congress policy of boycott of educational institu- tions. Though their influence had been drowned for the time being by the rising tide of non-co-operation, they continued to exert what influence they still possessed against the Congress. In this effort they had the support of no less a personality than India's illustrious poet, Dr. Rabindranath Tagore. The poet arrived in Bombay from Europe about the middle of July. As a matter of fact, I travelled in the same boat with him. During our voyage, I had occasion to discuss with him the new policy of non-co-operation adopted by the Congress. He was by no means hostile to the idea. He was only anxious that there should be more of constructive activity, so that ultimately a state within the state could be built up, entirely on the co-operation and support of the people. What he suggested was analogous to the constructive side of the Irish Sinn Fein movement and was completely in accord with my views. But immediately after his arrival in India, he was surrounded by a group of people who were opposed to the Non-co-operation Movement and who began to point out to him only the shortcomings of that movement—as well as the personal views of the Mahatma on modern science and modern medicine, which had no connection with the political programme of the Congress. Under the impression that the non-co-operation movement was aiming at a break with Western science, culture and civilisation, the poet delivered a forceful address in Calcutta under the caption 'Unity of Culture' and roundly condemned any attempt to isolate India from the culture and civilisation of the rest of the world and deprecated the boycott of educational institutions. Congress circles could not take this assault lying down but it was impossible to find a literary man of the same standing as the poet to reply to his attack. However, the premier novelist of Bengal, Sarat Chandra Chatterji, ventured to give a reply in an address on 'The Conflict of Cultures.' The

74 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE burden of his address was that though culture had a universal basis, each country had its own specific culture which was the creation of its national genius. India had to preserve and develop her own culture and if in doing so, she had to boycott the educational institutions which were under British influence, there was nothing objectionable in it. An attack from the poet was exceedingly unwelcome to the Mahatma, particularly because they had been great friends ever since the latter's return to India from South Africa. The Mahatma had therefore to pay several visits to the poet in order to pacify him. With the lapse of time the poet's opposi- tion was completely disarmed and he became one of the staunchest supporters of the Mahatma in his subsequent campaigns. While opposition to the Mahatma's policy of non-co- operation came from the intellectuals, opposition to his cult of non-violence came from another quarter—namely, the Revolutionary Party. During the Great War, thousands of revolutionaries had been imprisoned and most of them were subsequently released as a result of the amnesty declared in 1919. Many of them did not approve of the doctrine of non-retaliation which they apprehended would demoralise the people and weaken their power of resistance. There was a possibility that the ex-revolutionaries as a class would go against the Congress owing to ideological differences. As a matter of fact, a section of them had already started propa- ganda in Bengal against the Non-co-operation Movement. Strangely enough, funds had been provided by the British Mercantile Community under the name of the Citizens' Protection League. The money was distributed through the medium of an Indian advocate who did not disclose the source of the funds. Deshbandhu C. R. Das was anxious to disarm the hostility of the ex-revolutionaries and if possible, to win their active support for the Congress Campaign. He therefore arranged a conference in September between them and the Mahatma, at which he also was present. The ex-revolu- tionaries had a heart-to-heart talk with the Mahatma and he and the Deshbandhu tried to convince them that non-violent non-co-operation, instead of weakening or demoralising the

THE STORM BREAKS 75 people, would strengthen their power of effective resistance. The upshot of the conference was that all those present promised to give a full chance to the Congress to strive for Swaraj and promised to do nothing to hamper its work, while many of them agreed to join the Congress organisation as loyal and active members. The conference between the Mahatma and the ex-revolu- tionaries took place behind closed doors in September 1921, when he and other members of the Congress Working Com- mittee were staying as guests of Deshbandhu C. R. Das. This was the first occasion when I had an opportunity of coming into personal contact with the prominent leaders of the Congress. Besides the Deshbandhu, the outstanding personalities then were Pandit Motilal Nehru, Lala Lajpat Rai and Moulana Mohammed Ali. It is difficult to say how far the Mahatma would have succeeded in 1921 without their active support. To realise the importance of Lalaji and Desh- bandhu one has only to visualise the political situation in the Punjab and in Bengal in their absence. And in 1921, Nehru Junior (Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru) was not so well known or experienced that he could have replaced his father. Besides the influence which the first three leaders had in their own provinces—their importance was also due to the fact that they were the three outstanding intellectual stalwarts of the Congress. Many of the blunders committed by the Mahatma as a political leader could have been avoided if they had been in a position to advise him. Since the death of these three giants, the leadership of the Congress has fallen to a low intellectual level. The Congress Working Committee to-day is undoubtedly composed of some of the finest men of India —men who have character and courage, patriotism and sacrifice. But most of them have been chosen primarily because of their 'blind' loyalty to the Mahatma—and there are few among them who have the capacity to think for themselves or the desire to speak out against the Mahatma when he is likely to take a wrong step. In the circumstances, the Congress Cabinet of to-day is a one-man show. In 1921, besides the above three leaders, the Ali brothers (Moulana Mohammed and Moulana Shaukat Ali) had a

76 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE unique position among the public. This was due partly to their own activities and their suffering during the Great War—partly to the new awakening among the Moslems—but largely to the propaganda conducted in their favour by the Mahatma. The Mahatma associated himself so closely with them that they came to be looked upon as the right and the left hand of the Mahatma. In their company the Mahatma toured the country and one clearly remembers that in those days whenever there was a popular shout of 'Victory to Mahatma Gandhi' (Mahatma Gandhi Ki Jai), it would be accompanied by a shout of 'Victory to the Ali brothers' (Ali Bhai-o-Ki Jai). Though after some years the Ali brothers parted company with the Mahatma, I do not think one could find fault with the latter for his intimate association with them. The real mistake in my opinion did not lie in con- necting the Khilafat issue with the other national issues, but in allowing the Khilafat Committee to be set up as an independent organisation throughout the country, quite apart from the Indian National Congress. The result of this was that when later on Ghazi Mustafa Kemal Pasha, as the leader of New Turkey, forced the Sultan to abdicate and abolished the office of Khalifa altogether, the Khilafat question lost all meaning and significance and the majority of the members of the Khilafat organisations were absorbed by sectarian, reactionary and pro-British Moslem organisations. If no separate Khilafat Committees had been organised and all Khilafatist Moslems had been persuaded to join the ranks of the Indian National Congress, they would probably have been absorbed by the latter when the Khilafat issue became a dead one. After the middle of the year, the political situation began to grow tense. Neither the Government nor the Congress knew at the time when the storm would break, but signs of the coming clash began to appear in different parts of the country. Throughout all these episodes the public took the offensive and the Government played a defensive rôle Reference has already been made to the no-tax campaign in Midnapore District in Bengal and to the defiant conduct of the Congress leaders after the incarceration of the Ali

THE STORM BREAKS 77 brothers in September, following the Khilafat Conference at Karachi. Two other incidents are worth mentioning—the ‘Akali’ movement in the Punjab and the Moplah rebellion in Malabar in the south. The Akalis were a section among the Sikhs analogous to the Puritans among the Christians. They wanted primarily to reform the administration of the Sikh shrines or Gurudwaras. These shrines were mostly very rich and were administered by a set of ‘Mohants,’ who though required to act merely as trustees living an ascetic and abste- mious life, generally lived a thoroughly disreputable life at the public expense. The Akalis wanted to dispossess these Mohants and bring the shrines under the administration of popular committees. As always happens in an enslaved country, the Government rallied to the support of the vested interests—the Mohants. Thus a movement directed against the Mohants soon developed into a movement against the Government. The tactics of the Akalis were in keeping with the Congress policy of non-violent non-co-operation and consisted in sending ‘Jathas’ or groups of men and women to take possession of the shrines. They were arrested and put into prison or mercilessly beaten and forcibly dispersed. This movement went on for a year till in November 1922 the Government came to its senses and introduced legislation in the Punjab Legislative Council to concede what the Akalis had demanded from the beginning. The Moplahs of Malabar were a section of the Moslem community. Their rising was directed against the local Hindus; nevertheless it was also an attack on the Government and as such, caused them con- siderable anxiety and embarrassment. It has significance also because it was the first incident to loosen Hindu-Moslem unity. In spite of these isolated phenomena of revolt, till November 1921 there was no sign of a country-wide conflict, far less of the Swaraj promised ‘within one year.’ Congress circles were therefore getting uneasy and depressed, when the Govern- ment came to the rescue. An announcement was made that the Prince of Wales would visit India and that he would land in Bombay on November 17th. The motive behind the visit was, of course, to assuage public feeling and rally

78 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE public support for the Government. The Congress Working Committee promptly issued instructions for a boycott of the Prince's visit. It was 'stated that, though the people had nothing against the Prince personally, since he was coming to strengthen the bureaucracy which they were engaged in fighting, they had no option but to boycott his visit. As a first step towards this boycott, a ‘hartal’ or boycott demonstra- tion was called for November 17th, when there should be a complete suspension of business all over the country. On that day, the boycott demonstration in Bombay was not a success. There was a clash between supporters of the Government and those of the Congress which resulted in prolonged rioting. But in Northern India, especially in Calcutta, the demonstration was a unique success, due largely to the wholehearted co-operation of the Khilafat organisa- tions. So great was the success in Calcutta that the Anglo- Indian papers, the Statesman and the Englishman, wrote the next day that Congress volunteers had taken possession of the city and the Government had abdicated and they demanded immediate and drastic action against the Congress volunteers. Within twenty-four hours, the Government of Bengal issued a notification declaring them to be illegal. This was followed by similar notifications in other parts of the country. We had been spoiling for a fight in Calcutta and the official notification therefore was thrice welcome to us. The general opinion was in favour of an immediate reply to the official challenge. But our leader, Deshbandu Das, was cautious. He wanted time to take stock of his following in the province and to consult Mahatma Gandhi and the Working Com- mittee. Secret circulars were sent out at once to different parts of the province for a report as to the measure of public support that would be forthcoming if the Congress started open defiance of the official ban. In less than a week encourag- ing reports began to pour in from the districts. A meeting of the Provincial Congress Committee of Bengal was there- upon summoned behind closed doors towards the end of November to decide our course of action. This committee was a body of about 300 members representing the Congress organisations of Bengal. By that time I had become a member

THE STORM BREAKS 79 of that body and I was able to participate in the deliberations. It was unanimously decided to start civil disobedience and in view of the state of emergency, all the powers of the com- mittee were vested in its President, Deshbandhu Das—and he was further authorised to nominate his successors. Thus he was appointed the Congress Dictator for the Province—a procedure which was to be followed subsequently all over the country. Contrary to the advice given by the younger hot-heads of the party who wanted to commence with a big demonstration, the leader decided to make a modest beginning. He wanted, he said, to work up the movement slowly and restrict the fight to a single clear issue. That issue was—would the Government take action if batches of five volunteers went out peacefully to hawk Khadi cloth—not in uniform as we had suggested, but in mufti? If they did so, then the public would regard the action of the Government as wholly arbitrary and unjustified and all sections would then rally to the support of the Congress. On this issue the fight began and I was put in charge of the campaign. My work as the Principal of the National College could not be continued and more so, because the students and some members of the staff were anxious to join the campaign. We issued an appeal for volunteers who would go out to defy the official ban and accept all the consequences. The response was discouraging. Apparently the public were still lukewarm and some stimulus was required to stir them up. The leader suggested that his son and his wife should go out as volunteers in order to set an example to others. We opposed the idea and especially on the ground that no lady should be permitted to go out as long as there was a single man left. But the leader was adamant in his decision. So the next day young Das, who was about the same age as myself—went out at the head of the volunteers and was at once taken to prison.¹ There was an immediate change in the atmosphere and more volunteers began to enlist —but even that was not enough. So the turn came for Mrs. ¹ According to the rules of non-co-operation, a Congressman was required not to put up a defence when brought up for trial before a British law court. The prosecution therefore had an easy time and it would not generally take more than a few minutes to dispose of the cases.

80 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE Das. Accompanied by her sister-in-law, Mrs. Urmila Devi and another associate, Miss Suniti Devi, she went out at the head of the volunteers. When the news spread in the city that Mrs. Das and other ladies had been taken to prison, there was wild excitement. In utter indignation young and old, rich and poor began to pour in as volunteers. The authorities were alarmed and they converted the city into an armed camp. But our battle was half-won. Indignation was not confined to the public but spread within the ranks of the hitherto loyal police. At the police- station, as Mrs. Das stepped into the prison-van, to be con- veyed to prison, numbers of police constables came up to her and vowed that they were going to resign their jobs the same day. There was consternation in Government circles. No one knew at the time how far the contagion would spread. Orders were issued at once by Government that the pay of police constables would be substantially increased. The same evening at a dinner party in Government House there was a sensation. Mr. S. N. Mullick, a leading Liberal politician (who was afterwards a member of the Council of the Secretary of State for India)—when he heard of Mrs. Das's arrest—left Government House immediately as a protest. So tense was the excitement that before midnight the Government had to order the release of Mrs. Das and her associates, and the public were given to understand that the arrests had been made through a mistake. From the next day thousands of students and factory-workers began to enlist as volunteers. Within a few days the two big prisons in the city were filled with political prisoners. Camp-prisons were then opened but they too were filled in no time. The Government then resorted to drastic action. Orders were issued for the arrest of Deshbandu Das and his close associates, and by the evening of December 10th we were all in prison. But these arrests acted as a further stimulus and as more people were arrested the prison-administration became more unmanageable. Orders were given for the release of a large number of political prisoners but no one would leave the prison, and moreover, it was impossible to identify them. Sometimes they would be taken to the prison office on the

THE STORM BREAKS 81 pretext of being transferred to some other prison or of being interviewed by their relatives and there they would be set free. When this trick was discovered, no prisoner would leave his cell when called by a prison-official. Prisoners were thereupon taken forcibly to the prison-gate and set at liberty. Outside prison, tactics were changed. Arrests were stopped and orders were given that sticks and batons should be used freely by the police in dealing with crowds and demonstrators. In some cases demonstrators were removed in police-vans to out-of-the-way places thirty miles from the city and there asked to walk back home. A liberal use was also made of the hose in order to give the demonstrators free cold baths in winter. But it was clear to everybody that these makeshift arrange- ments and tactics would not do. The situation was going out of hand from the official point of view. The novelty of the tactics employed by the Congress had non-plussed the Government. They could of course have made a reckless and ruthless use of force on a large scale to put down the movement as they did subsequently, but they were embarrassed by the presence of the Prince of Wales in India. The Prince of Wales was due to arrive in Calcutta—the storm centre of the 1921 movement—on December 24th, and about a week before that, the Viceroy, Lord Reading, arrived there. The members of the Calcutta Bar had previously agreed to invite him to a banquet, as he was ex-Lord Chief Justice of England. But in view of the arrest of Deshbandhu Das, they cancelled the engagement. The Government of India thus found themselves in an exceedingly difficult position as they met with opposition everywhere. In the first place, though the civil disobedience movement was strongest in Bengal, it was fairly strong throughout Upper India and no province was free from it. In addition to this the Akali Movement in the Punjab, the no-tax campaign in the Midnapore District in Bengal, and the Moplah Rebellion in Malabar in South India inten- sified the crisis. Outside India, the Sinn Fein Movement in Ireland had been largely successful, a treaty with Great Britain having been signed on December 6th, 1921. Some months earlier, Afghanistan had entered into a treaty with F

82 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE Mustafa Kemal Pasha and this was followed by a treaty between Persia and Soviet Russia. In Egypt, the Nationalist Wafd Party of Syed Zaghlul Pasha was strong and active. Thus it was apparent that the entire Moslem world was combining against Great Britain and this had an inevitable reaction on the Moslems of India. In these circumstances it was no surprise that the Government of Lord Reading should be anxious for a settlement with the Congress. A peace- maker was found in Pandit Madan Mohon Malaviya, the veteran nationalist leader, who for reasons of his own, had kept away from the 1921 movement. He came to interview Deshbandhu Das in the Presidency Jail with a message from the Viceroy. The offer that he brought was that if the Congress agreed to call off the civil disobedience movement imme- diately, so that the Prince's visit would not be boycotted by the public, the Government would simultaneously withdraw the notification declaring Congress volunteers illegal and release all those who had been incarcerated thereunder. They would further summon a Round Table Conference of the representatives of the Government and the Congress to settle the future constitution of India. The leader had a long discussion with Moulana Abul Kalam Azad, the outstanding Moslem leader of Calcutta and with Pandit Malaviya. Some other points had to be decided, including the question of the release of the Ali brothers and their associates, who had been sentenced to two years' hard labour at Karachi in September. On this point the official reply was that since they had not been sentenced in connection with the civil disobedience movement, the Congress should not press for their release as a part of the terms of settlement. But the Viceroy was prepared to give an assurance that they would actually be released in due course. When Deshbandhu Das broached the subject to us and asked for our opinion, the younger section, including myself, vehemently opposed the idea of an armistice on those terms. Thereupon he entered into an elaborate discussion with us and advanced the following arguments in support of his contention that a compromise should be made at once. Rightly or wrongly, he said, the Mahatma had promised Swaraj within one year.

THE STORM BREAKS 83 That year was drawing to a close: Barely a fortnight was left and within this short period something had to be achieved in order to save the face of the Congress and fulfil the Mahatma’s promise regarding Swaraj. The offer of the Viceroy had come to him as a godsend. If a settlement was made before December 31st and all the political prisoners were released, it would appear to the popular imagination as a great triumph for the Congress. The Round Table Con- ference might, or might not be a success, but if it failed and the Government refused to concede the popular demands— the Congress could resume the fight at any time and when it did so, it would command greater prestige and public confidence. The above logic was irrefutable and I felt convinced. Under the joint signatures of Deshbandhu Das and Moulana A. K. Azad, a telegram was sent to Mahatma Gandhi recom- mending for acceptance, the proposed terms of settlement. A reply came to the effect that he insisted on the release of the Ali brothers and their associates as a part of the terms of settlement and also on an announcement regarding the date and composition of the Round Table Conference. Unfor- tunately, the Viceroy was not in a mood for any further parleying and wanted an immediate decision. All that the Deshbandhu could do in the circumstances was to send for his friends who were then outside prison and urge upon them that they should use all possible means to get the Mahatma to agree. These friends did so and many telegrams passed between Calcutta and Sabarmati, the usual residence of the Mahatma near Ahmedabad. Ultimately the Mahatma did come round, but by then it was too late. The Government of India, tired of waiting, had changed their mind. The Desh- bandhu was beside himself with anger and disgust. ‘The chance of a lifetime, he said, had been lost. The feeling among the political prisoners, as also among the Congress rank and file, was that the Mahatma had com- mitted a serious blunder. Only a minority, who had blind faith in him, refused to pass any judgment. However, since the opportunity had been lost, there was no option but to make the best of a bad situation. The Deshbandhu had been

84 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE elected President of the ensuing session of the Congress which was to meet at Ahmedabad in the last week of December. His half-written speech, which was a vindication of the prin- ciples and methods of the non-co-operation movement, was sent to the Congress and the presidential chair was filled, in his absence, by Hakim Ajmal Khan, the outstanding leader of Delhi. There was great enthusiasm at the Ahmeda- bad Congress and the main resolution was one which called upon the whole country to adopt a policy of individual and mass civil disobedience. Every man and woman was exhorted to join the National Volunteer Corps, defy the emergency ordinances and court imprisonment. The Congress further appointed the Mahatma as the Dictator for the whole country, following the precedent of the Bengal Congress Committee, who had appointed the Deshbandhu as the Dictator for the province. There was an interesting episode at the Ahmedabad Con- gress. Moulana Hasrat Mohani, an influential Moslem leader of the United Provinces, moved a resolution to the effect that the goal of the Indian National Congress should be defined in the constitution as the establishment of a republic (the United States of India). So impassioned was his eloquence and so responsive was the audience, that one felt as if the resolution would be carried by a large majority. But the Mahatma rose to oppose the resolution and with great sobriety argued against the proposition, with the result that it was thrown out by the house. The proposition was, however, to be brought up over and over again at subsequent Congresses till it was accepted at the Lahore Congress in 1929, the mover on that occasion being none other than the Mahatma himself. With the dissolution of the Congress, the year 1921 came to an end. Nothing of a startling character happened on or before December 31st. The promised Swaraj did not come. A few months earlier, at the conference with the ex-revolu- tionaries of Bengal, the Mahatma had said, that he was so sure of getting Swaraj before the end of the year that he could not conceive of himself as living beyond December 31st, without having won Swaraj. He had further said that pro-

THE STORM BREAKS 85 vincial autonomy and diarchy in the Central Government he could have for the mere asking, but he wanted full Dominion status and if he had that, he would be prepared to unfurl the Union Jack over his Ashrama. As the curtain was rung down on December 31st, 1921, these words floated like dreams before my mind's eye. Before the end of the year, with the exception of Mahatma Gandhi, all the other important leaders were in prison. As a matter of fact at the time of the negotiations between the Deshbandhu and the Viceroy, none of the outstanding intel- lectual stalwarts was in a position to advise the Mahatma as to the proper course for him to adopt. If they had done so, then in all probability, events would have taken a different course. There can of course be no doubt that within twelve months the country had made tremendous progress and much of the credit for that belonged to the Mahatma. But what has to be regretted is that he did not show sufficient diplomacy and prudence when the crucial hour arrived. In this con- nection I am reminded of what the Deshbandhu used fre- quently to say about the virtues and failings of Mahatma Gandhi's leadership. According to him, the Mahatma opens a campaign in a brilliant fashion; he works it up with unerring skill; he moves from success to success till he reaches the zenith of his campaign—but after that he loses his nerve and begins to falter. Before we close this chapter it would be desirable to take stock of the year's achievements and failures. The year 1921 undoubtedly gave the country a highly-organised party- organisation. Before that, the Congress was a constitutional party and mainly a talking body. The Mahatma not only gave it a new Constitution and a nation-wide basis—but what is more important, converted it into a revolutionary organisa- tion. The tricolour national flag—red,¹ green and white— was adopted all over the country and assumed great im- portance. Uniform slogans were repeated everywhere and a uniform policy and ideology gained currency from one end of India to the other. The English language lost its importance and the Congress adopted Hindi (or Hindusthani) as the ¹ The colour red in the national flag has now been altered to saffron.

86 ' THE INDIAN STRUGGLE lingua franca for the whole country. Spontaneously, Khadi became the official uniform for all Congressmen. In short, all the features of a modern political party became visible in India. The credit for such achievements naturally belongs to the leader of the movement—Mahatma Gandhi. He has unfortunately been guilty of many serious blunders—‘Hima- layan blunders,’ to use his own language. And the fact that even to-day he is enthroned in the hearts of his countrymen does not mean that he has been free from errors of judgment but that his positive achievements have been really so great that his countrymen are prepared to forgive his mistakes. It is necessary, in this connection, to refer to some of the shortcomings inherent in the movement from the very begin- ning and which were to reveal themselves more and more with the lapse of time. In the first place, too much power and responsibility was handed over to one man. The disadvantages of such a state of things were not so great, while Deshbandhu C. R. Das, Lala Lajpat Rai and Pandit Motilal Nehru were alive, since they could control the Mahatma to some extent. But since their death the entire intellect of the Congress has been mortgaged to one man and those who dare to think freely and speak out openly are regarded by the Mahatma and his disciples as heretics and treated as such. Secondly, the promise of ‘Swaraj within one year’ was not only unwise but childish. It made the Congress appear so foolish before all reasonable men. No doubt the Mahatma’s disciples have tried subsequently to explain away the point by saying that the country did not fulfil the conditions and so Swaraj could not be won within one year. The explanation is as unsatisfactory as the original promise was unwise—because arguing in the same way, any leader can say that if you fulfil certain con- ditions you can be free in one hour. In making political forecasts, no leader worth the name should impose impossible conditions. He should estimate what conditions are likely to be fulfilled and what results are likely to be achieved in a given set of circumstances. Thirdly, the introduction of the Khilafat question into Indian politics was unfortunate. As has already been pointed out, if the Khilafatist Moslems had not started a separate organisation but had joined the Indian