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Echoes of the past
There are a lot of books on the causes behind Partition. INDIVAR
KAMTEKAR reviews a book that looks at what 1947 caused to the
people of the subcontinent.
DESPITE the astonishing inclusion of an essay on the Qutb Minar
and adjacent mosque, and the obvious omission of any essay on
Kashmir, this is an interesting volume on the results of the 1947
partition of India. The eight articles published here are all
original pieces of research; fresh, stimulating and unavailable
elsewhere.
Suvir Kaul's introduction sketches how the project began - with a
desire to recognise the continuing effects of the Partition in
the policies of the governments of India and Pakistan and on the
psychology of their people. So far, he says, most works have
looked at the causes of the Partition. Although Tai Yong Tan and
Gyanesh Kudaisya's book, The Aftermath of Partition in South
Asia, was published by Routledge last year, this statement is on
the whole true. The contributors to Kaul's volume do not ask what
caused the Partition; instead, they ask what the Partition
caused.
Mukulika Banerjee's article, opening the collection, relies
heavily on interviews with Pathan followers of Khan Abdul Gaffar
Khan in the Muslim-majority North-West Frontier Province. Pathans
were stereotyped in the rest of India as violent and unruly. The
Red Shirts or Khudai Khidmatgars organised by Khan formed,
however, a movement that was disciplined, non-violent and pro-
Congress. Nevertheless, when the British departure became
imminent, the Congress agreed - without consulting the Khudai
Khidmatgars - to a referendum on whether their area should join
Pakistan. Banerjee's interviews record the Khudai Khidmatgars'
deep sense of betrayal. Taunted as cowardly before independence,
they were denigrated as unpatriotic afterwards by the Pakistani
government which raided their homes and burnt their personal
papers. This is the story of orphans, whom no state would adopt.
Joya Chatterji's powerful essay examines the rhetoric of refugee
rehabilitation in Bengal. Writing with angry clarity, and backed
by impressive evidence, she demonstrates that the government
looked on refugee relief as a matter of charity, while the
refugees increasingly demanded such relief as a matter of right.
On August 15, 1950, a refugee organisation even celebrated "Anti-
Independence day" at Hazra Park in Calcutta. The government, on
the other hand, remained cruel and self-congratulatory. Chatterji
shows this, but it may have another dimension. Are these
government documents better read as an example of straightforward
class prejudice? Did the lower-level personnel of the State, who
dealt with the refugees daily, share the attitudes of their
superiors? Even if a few words were common, State and people,
according to Chatterji, spoke different languages from which the
dialects (if not the dialectics) of modern West Bengal's politics
evolved. The general sense of rights among the public, according
to Chatterji, was considerably strengthened by refugee struggles.
This is a debatable matter in our society where (despite much
talk couched in the language of rights) a sense of entitlement is
still weak. Even today, it depends more on political power and
social connections, than on notions of citizenship.
Chatterji's piece is followed by Ramnarayan Rawat's pathbreaking
article on Dalit politics in these years. Rawat refuses to accept
that Dalit politics were swallowed and digested by the Congress.
To show that this did not happen, he cites the example of Dalit
satyagrahis in Utter Pradesh marching to the Legislative Assembly
in the middle of 1946 carrying placards and raising slogans
saying: "Down with British Imperialism", "Down with Congress",
and "Scrap the Poona Pact".
Elsewhere, Dalit activists burnt khadi clothes and Gandhi caps.
The leaders of the Scheduled Castes Federation interacted
regularly with the leaders of the Muslim League. The Scheduled
Castes Federation of UP, which called the Pakistan demand anti-
national in 1944, supported the Pakistan demand in 1946. Some
Dalits requested that they be made part of Pakistan. Rawat bases
his work primarily on the Police Abstracts of Intelligence
prepared in the United Provinces. His conclusion is that new
forms of Dalit activism emerged in these years, and a new, and
separate, Dalit identity was outlined.
There are also essays by Richard Murphy, Priyamvada Gopal and
Sunil Kumar. Murphy writes about sunset ceremonies at Wagah
border, and on Basant celebrations in Lahore - the latter involve
much kite-flying (as does much academic work). Priyamvada Gopal
discusses Manto's celebrated story "Thanda Gosht", examining the
"gendered dichotomies in his output", mentioning "hyper-
heterosexuality", and seeing the story as "an attempt to
critically realign masculinity with both humanity and humanism".
Sunil Kumar's speculations on the motivations behind the Qutb are
fascinating medieval history, but appallingly ungendered.
Urvashi Butalia examines refugee petitions to men in authority.
These petitions are available in the records of the All-India
Congress Committee. The refugees ask for jobs, housing, money and
to be rehabilitated together with their own kind. Butalia argues
that the petitions show that people fleetingly held great hopes
of the Indian State. Such hopes were not in evidence among the
refugees she interviewed decades later. She therefore concludes
that hopes of a paternalistic benevolence soon evaporated,
leaving a popular disillusionment with the State.
Though plausible, her case will remain unproven till these
petitions are actually contrasted with those from other periods.
The letter-writers were younger than the people Butalia
interviewed. Perspectives on a paternalistic State, like
perspectives on a parent, may well change with age.
The last word in the book is left to Nita Kumar, who leaves
middle-class locales to interview children of Muslim weavers in
Benares about their knowledge of history. The results can be as
follows:
Shahzad does not know what happened in 1947. Shahzad cannot
remember any episode or personality from Indian history.
Furthermore, he cannot make up, improvise or just invent
anything ...
In Calcutta, the daughter of more well-off Bengali refugee
parents, studying in Loreto House, tells Dr. Kumar that Hindus
are people who speak Hindi. Indian education in history, Dr.
Kumar muses, "points to a weak relationship between the subject
as studied and the child's sense of the self". A melancholy
thought, perhaps, but then the two children are only 10 years
old.
Varied in theme and quality, the articles in this book, taken
together, succeed remarkably well in broadening the treatment of
the Partition of India. Scholars will, as usual, flesh out some
of the ideas and flush away others. But the originality of these
articles will ensure that the book becomes essential reading for
specialists, as well as providing entertainment to the general
reader who enjoys listening to echoes of the past.
The Partitions of Memory: The Afterlife of the Division of India,
edited by Suvir Kaul, Permanent Black, 2001, p.301, Rs. 595.
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