Expectedly, Vinayak’s petition was rejected by the government.
But the reforms suggested by Montagu gathered steam. After all the deliberations, he drew up a report with Bhupendra Nath Bose, Lord Richard Hely-Hutchinson, sixth Earl of Donoughmore, William Duke and Charles Roberts. 61 The Montagu–Chelmsford Reforms, as they were called, eventually culminated in the Government of India Act, 1919.
A bicameral legislature was set up with two houses—the Legislative Assembly and the Council of State. The Legislative Assembly was to have 145 members of whom 103 were elected and the rest were nominated. Of these 103, fifty-one were elected from general constituencies, thirty-two by communal/separate constituencies (thirty by Muslims, two by Sikhs), and twenty by special constituencies such as landholders, Anglo-Indians, etc. The Council of State had sixty members—thirty-three elected and twenty-seven nominated by the Governor General. The life of the Central Legislative Assembly was for three years and the Council of State for five years. The franchise was extended, central and provincial legislative councils were given more authority, but the viceroy still remained accountable only to London. 62
At the provincial level, significant changes were made whereby a Provincial Legislative Council was created with a majority of elected members. All the major provinces such as Bengal, Madras, Bombay, United Provinces, Punjab, Bihar, Central Provinces and Assam were to be ruled by a governor. Under a system called dyarchy, the rights of central and provincial governments were strictly demarcated. The central or reserved list had rights over defence, foreign affairs, telegraphs, railways, postal, foreign trade and so on, while the provincial or transferred list dealt with issues of health, education, sanitation, irrigation, jail, police, justice, public works, excise, religious and charitable endowments, etc. 63
The reaction to the Government of India Act from Indians was on expected lines. The moderates, though not fully satisfied, advocated ungrudging cooperation within the contours of the new reforms to help them succeed. A strong section was inclined to reject it altogether. Tilak, who by then dominated the Congress after the death of Gokhale in 1915, stuck to a middle path of ‘Responsive Cooperation’ that would depend on how the government acted on each of its promises.
In its thirty-fourth session held at Amritsar in end December 1919, the INC, under President Chittaranjan Das, moved a resolution that stated that the ‘Reform Act is inadequate, unsatisfactory, and disappointing’. It urged parliament to take early steps towards establishing a fully responsible government in accordance with the principle of self-government. Das favoured a rejection of the reforms. It was in this session that Gandhi managed to make a significant impact on the Congress. Gandhi’s stand was explained in his article for Young India : ‘The Reforms Act . . . is an earnest of the intention of the British people to do justice to India and it ought to remove suspicion on that score . . . Our duty therefore is not to subject the Reforms to carping criticism but to settle down quietly to work so as to make them a success.’ 64
The Montagu–Chelmsford Reforms thus divided many Congress leaders and amid apprehensions of yet another ideological split, Chittaranjan Das arrived at a compromise. The resolution was reworded to state that: ‘The Congress trusts, that so far as may be possible they will work the reforms so as to secure an early establishment of full Responsible Government.’ 65 It also stated that the Congress was ‘not opposed to obstruction, plain, downright obstruction, when that helps to obtain our political goal’. The stand was akin to what Tilak advocated—one of ‘Responsive Cooperation’. Gandhi too added: ‘. . . that does not mean that we may sit with folded hands and may still expect to get what we want. Under the British Constitution no one gets anything without a hard fight for it . . . We must lay to heart the advice of the President of the Congress that we shall gain nothing without agitation.’ 66
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Back in Port Blair, Vinayak’s health deteriorated further. In a letter to Narayanrao, Vinayak wrote:
Last year, March I weighed 119—this year I weigh 98! They take the weight with which we come here as the normal one . . . but even when I came here I was 111 lbs. Chronic dysentery due to disregard of the medical treatment in the beginning has reduced me to a skeleton. Eight years I bore the burden well. Innumerable and unknown hardships taxed my metal and an atmosphere of frowns and threats and sighs, of demoralizing and disheartening stench tried to stifle the noble breath of Life—but God gave me strength to stand and stand firm and face it all for these eight years or so. But now I feel the flesh has received wounds that are hard to heal and is day-by-day pining away. Recently the Medical Superintendent has been paying a little special attention to my weakness and though I am still on ‘Duty’, i.e., work and not in the Hospital, yet I get hospital diet that is better cooked, and eat only rice and am allowed milk and bread at present. It is better a bit and hope it may improve. But what is likely is that this constant debility may end in some fatal malady or that inevitable friend so well-known in jails, specially in Andamans—the Pthysis. Only one thing and one thing alone can assure me of my recovering and that is a change . . . a change for the better to a better climate in some Indian jail. 67
Babarao’s condition was no better. By August 1918, his weight had dropped to 106 pounds and the diarrhoea continued unabated. To make matters worse, his gall bladder began giving him trouble. He literally had to crawl to the hospital as it was difficult to even stand up. Spasms of cough threatened to snuff his life out. The doctors diagnosed his ailment as tuberculosis. Despite all this and a fever of 100–102 degrees, he was not shifted to the hospital but made to labour.
As his condition worsened, Vinayak was shifted to the prison hospital. Gripping stomach pain and high fever crippled him. He found it impossible to digest anything. Things got worse when he was struck down by malaria too. His nerves too began to slowly give way. Reading—his favourite pastime—had to be temporarily abandoned as it caused immense strain. Yet, lying down with his eyes shut all day only seemed to make time stretch interminably, monotonously. On what seemed to him like a deathbed, he burst into a poem, ‘On the Death-Bed’ (Maranonmukh Shayyevar ). The opening verses are as follows:
Come, Death! If really thou hast started already to come—welcome!
These flowers may tremble to fade away,
These juicy grapes to wither,
But why should I fear Thee?
I have but these wines of tears that fill my cup to offer Thee
And which I thought over-drinking cannot exhaust;
Come if that be acceptable to Thee! 68
Vinayak needed almost a year of hospital care to mend his health. On his return to prison, Vinayak was once again beset with immense sadness about the condition in which he was wallowing. Self-defeatist thoughts crowded his mind and once again he contemplated ending his life. But once again, he dissuaded himself with cold rationality. He writes:
Sometimes I felt every day that the body could not hold out any longer because one ailment after another was attacking it. This garment of the flesh seemed to be completely tattered and torn so that the soul could no longer wear it. At another time I felt a distinct improvement in my health. But how long am I to linger thus? So a year and a half had rolled on. Dysentery, blood in stools, fever and something else followed in succession and I bore it all. So I resolved to put an end to my life. For, I was in no doubt that this prison and myself were never to part company and so long as this continued my health would never improve. We all struggle for happiness and none could weep for all time and continue suffering to the end of the chapter. I wanted to know how many days I suffered and how many days I was without suffering. So I made a month’s chart and marked on it days when wearing a body was a joy and when it was intense pain. I marked this on the wall, the day of suffering from one ailment or another, and the day free from any ailment. This went on for two months and then I made a reckoning. I found out that of sixty days, fifteen days were relatively better, and the rest were all worse. So I conclude
d that things were not after all so dark, and I must put off the thought of suicide. 69
The last two days of May 1919, 30 and 31, brought some cheer to Vinayak. After eight long years, he was finally permitted an interview with his family members. While others were allowed to meet their family once in five years and also stay with them for a few days, no such concessions were ever granted to Vinayak. Finally, on receiving government permission, Vinayak’s wife, Yamuna Bai, and brother, Narayanrao, started for Calcutta from Bombay and then reached Port Blair.
Needless to say, it was a tearful reunion. Vinayak was pleasantly surprised to see another young lady accompanying his brother and wife. This was Shanta, Narayanrao’s wife. After qualifying in allopathy, homeopathy and dentistry in 1916, Narayanrao had started a clinic in Girgaum, Bombay. Around the same time, he had married Haridini (whose name after marriage was Shanta). 70 They talked with joyful abandon despite a warder who knew Marathi lurking around and keeping watch. The meetings on both days went on for a little over an hour. Vinayak’s eyes yearned to see his beloved sister-in-law and confidante, Yesu Vahini. But Narayanrao told him that their sister-in-law had passed away. She had pined for Babarao’s and Vinayak’s return. In 1915, both Yamuna and she had written to Viceroy Hardinge, in letters dated 28 July and 11 October respectively, to seek the release of their husbands. This was rejected by the government.
After Narayanrao’s marriage, Yesu Vahini stayed with him briefly. But by the second half of 1918, due to failing health, she moved to Nashik and stayed with her maternal uncle, Wamanrao Dandekar. Knowing that her end was nearing, she beseeched the government for one final sight of her husband. Unfortunately, this too was rejected. But her spirit was undaunted. Four days before her death, when a family friend, Godumai Khare, came to meet her and saw her hands bereft of bangles and questioned her about the same, she nonchalantly replied: ‘Godumai, my bangles would not fit my hands because of my swelling and hence I removed them. Someone gave me new bangles, but since they are foreign made, I refused to wear them.’ 71
One of the convicts in the Nasik Conspiracy Case and a member of Abhinav Bharat, Sakharampant Gore, died while in prison. This had a deleterious effect on his wife, Janakibai Gore, who was an active member of the Atmanishtha Yuvati Sangh that Yesu Vahini had started. She slipped into depression and lost all interest in life. While Janaki was shunned and neglected by the entire town, Yesu Vahini, despite her own limited means and financial constraints, brought Janaki home and tended for her affectionately. Janaki did not live for too long thereafter. Her death jolted Yesu Vahini. The fear of dying with the same unfulfilled wish of seeing her loved ones haunted her.
Her apprehensions sadly came true. Towards the end, she became delirious and started having visions of Babarao and Vinayak returning home and calling out to her sisters-in-law to keep the arati ready for their welcome. Her wish unfulfilled, Yesu Vahini died on 5 February 1919. 72 In a cruel irony of fate, three days after her death, the family was granted permission to visit the Andamans. She had sacrificed her entire life and happiness for Babarao’s and Vinayak’s cause. Both Vinayak and Babarao were devastated by the news.
In a letter to Narayanrao, dated 21 September 1919, Vinayak pours out his angst about Yesu Vahini’s death:
Half the joy of any release fades into apathy at the thought of my going back to a home where she is not likely to come to welcome me! My earliest friend, my sister, my mother and my comrade—all in one, all at once, she really died as dies a suttee ! Did she not immolate her silent soul and even at the altar of our Motherland? Ah! As truly as martyr dies for his land or religion, do these Indian girls of today die panting, withering, watching for the return of their lovers who are not destined to meet them; suffering in silence, serving though unknown, paying though unacknowledged—do these Hindu girls pine away and die for their Motherland, for their religion. 73
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The Government of India continued with its policy of reforms along with repression. A committee was appointed in December 1917 to investigate the nature and extent of the revolutionary movement in India. It was also mandated to examine the difficulties that arose in the handling of such conspiracy cases. Justice S.A.T. Rowlatt, of the King’s Bench Division of His Majesty’s High Court of Justice, served as the chairman of this committee. The committee had full access to information in the government’s possession. This was termed the Rowlatt Sedition Committee.
The committee made an exhaustive report on the history and evolution of revolutionary activities in different parts of India and outside. Vinayak’s role in this was also detailed. It recommended a new legislation to replace the Defence of India Act, 1915. It sought to bring about strict laws to curtail the liberty of people in a drastic manner. Two bills were prepared on the basis of these recommendations—the Indian Criminal Law (Amendment) Bill No. I of 1919 and the Criminal Law (Emergency Powers) Bill No. II of 1919. The latter was passed into law, and named the Anarchical and Revolutionary Crimes Act, 1919. It called for a speedy trial of offences by a special court consisting of three high court judges. The right to appeal was also stripped off the accused. Provincial governments were empowered to search at will anyone’s house that came under their radar of suspicion and round up the individual indefinitely without even an arrest warrant. The act intended to quell the publication, distribution and sale of prohibited works. 74
These sweeping emergency powers, through the Rowlatt Act, bestowed on the government were strenuously opposed by Indians of all shades of political thought. But the bill was passed and entered the statute books on 21 March 1919. This brought unprecedented limelight on Gandhi who had till then remained in the background with movements in Champaran advocating the plight of indigo cultivators and the mill workers of Ahmedabad. A small group was formed, consisting of Gandhi, Vallabhbhai Patel and Sarojini Naidu, to offer satyagraha, or peaceful resistance, to these new acts. This came to be known also as the Rowlatt Satyagraha. On 24 February 1919, they pledged that ‘in the event of these Bills becoming law and until they are withdrawn, we shall refuse civilly to obey these laws and such other laws as a Committee to be hereafter appointed, may think fit . . . we will follow truth and refrain from violence to life, person or property’. 75 A Satyagraha Sabha with Gandhi as president called for a strike on 6 April 1919. Gandhi’s leadership was put to intense test during this first major pan-India campaign that he was embarking upon.
Disturbances had broken out all over the country, with riots and arson causing loss of lives and property. Disturbed by this, Gandhi called off the satyagraha on 18 April even before it could gather full steam. But large-scale ferment continued in the Punjab. This forced the government to bar Gandhi from entering the province. The government also imposed martial law with Brigadier General Reginald Dyer in command by 11 April 1919, though it was not formally declared before 15 April. Unaware of the law being imposed, approximately 6000–10,000 unarmed people had gathered on 13 April 1919 for a public meeting at Jallianwala Bagh in Amritsar. Soon after the meeting began, Dyer reached the spot without any warning to the attendees. He passed, with his infantry, through a narrow lane into Jallianwalla Bagh and at once deployed them to the right and left of the entrance in the Bagh’s square. The armoured cars remained outside the square and never came into action as the lane was too narrow for them to enter. The gates of the Bagh were shut and his troops stationed themselves on a raised ground. Without any warning, Dyer ordered indiscriminate firing on the mass of humanity that had gathered there. More than 1500 rounds were shot. Men, women, children and old people were caught in this firing and martyred. As per government records, nearly 379 were killed and more than 1200 wounded (the actual numbers were much more).
Dyer was anything but remorseful of this savagery and in fact boasted of his achievements and what he termed as a merciful act. He admitted that he could have dispersed them without firing but that would have been derogatory to his dignity as a defender of law and order. It was to maintain his self-respect,
he claimed, that he decided to fire, leaving behind a trail of corpses. This brutality sent shock waves across India, more so at a time when the government was discussing administrative reforms and limited self-government. Ironically, Dyer was feted as a hero by the British. A fund created in his support by the Morning Post in London and another in Mussoorie in India collected a purse of £20,000. 76
Viceroy Lord Chelmsford’s response to this genocide was indicative of the government’s attitude:
I have heard that Dyer administered Martial Law in Amritsar very reasonably and in no sense tyrannously. In these circumstances you will understand why it is that both the Commander-in-Chief and I feel very strongly that an error of judgment, transitory in its consequences, should not bring down upon him a penalty which would be out of all proportion to the offence and which must be balanced against the very notable services which he rendered at an extremely critical time. 77
The massacre shook the nation and for the first time Gandhi’s trust in the British was eroded. He demanded a thorough inquiry into the carnage. The Hunter Commission was set up to investigate the matter. However, Gandhi did not wish to derail the process of reforms and cooperation with the government. On 21 July 1919, he issued a statement in which he said that on account of indications of goodwill on the part of the government and advice from many friends, he would not resume non-cooperation, as it was not his purpose to embarrass the government. Instead, he urged the satyagrahis to work for constructive programmes such as the use of indigenous goods and Hindu–Muslim unity. 78
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At Cellular Jail, following the barrage of charges against him, Barrie was just a shadow of his former formidable self. Seated grumpily in his chair at office, with a long cigar in his mouth, puffing out curls of smoke, his health too had taken a beating. He suffered from intense lower-back pain. He had been in Port Blair for three decades and was nearing retirement. Vinayak mentions in his memoirs that despite the tough demeanour that Barrie presented, he was a different man at home with his family and friends. His wife and seventeen-year-old daughter, who had completed her matriculation from Rangoon and was preparing for a teacher’s diploma, had special regard for Vinayak. They would call on him in prison and talk to him briefly. They occasionally sent him fruits from their family garden.
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