Posters and other reports in the papers apparently further incited the ‘mobs’. One poster said: ‘We are the Indian nation whose bravery and honour have been acknowledged by all the kings of the world. The English are the worst of the lot and are like monkeys whose deceit and cunning are obvious to all, high and low. Have these monkeys forgotten their original conditions? Now these faithless people have forgotten the loyalty of Indians, are bent upon exercising limitless tyranny. O brethren, gird up your loins and fight. Kill and be killed. Do not lose courage and try your utmost to turn those mean monkeys from your holy city.’59
This was obviously meant for the soldiers who had fought alongside the allies in the World War, and who came back home only to face bullets from those on whose behalf they had fought. ‘Monkey’ was a term often used for the British in Punjab, and even though it was a fairly mild term of abuse, it was one that the British could not tolerate.
The posters also called for unity, defying all attempts to divide the communities.
‘Oh Hindu, Muhammadan and Sikh brethren raise the cry of Allah Akbar and kill the Kaffirs. Get ready for the war and God will grant victory to India very soon. Fight with enthusiasm and enlist yourselves in the Danda army.’ The last was again a reference to the danda fauj—the people’s army which used sticks as weapons to fight a ‘duplicitous’ colonial power.
However, all such attempts by the people to demonstrate their rights would soon come to naught. Following pre-censorship on 10 April, the district of Lahore was brought under the Seditious Meetings Act on 13 April. All assemblies of more than ten persons were banned, as were liquor shops.60 It was thought that the idle crowds would be fuelled by liquor to confront the British.
On 14 April, some of the leaders in Lahore, who had participated in the anti-Rowlatt Act movement peacefully, were now arrested and deported. ‘Lala Harkishan Lal, one of the magnates of the Punjab, Lala Duni Chand, one of the most popular Municipal Commissioners of Lahore, with a record of unbroken public service, and Pundit Rambhaj Dutt Chowdhari, who had tried to help on the 10th of April, by calming the crowds were arrested and deported.’61
Despite all the provocations and trials before them, and despite the fact that nothing was known of their struggles outside Lahore, the residents carried on with the hartal—from 11 to 18 April. This meant enormous hardship, as everything in the city was shut.
Even though, according to the official tally, at least 5 residents had been killed and more than 50 wounded, the people of Lahore remained calm. In fact, some of them even tried to reason with the authorities and sent a proposal to Chief Secretary, Thompson, asking that:
The military be removed from the city
Arrested people should be released on bail and
The bodies of the men killed in the firing by the police should be released.
The government did not entertain the bargain offered and the bodies of two men killed on 10 April were ‘not returned but the burial was carried out by the authorities in the jail though relatives were allowed to attend. One man (who had died) was not identified. The reason was that any other course was thought likely to lead to a demonstration and probably would have given a new occasion for hartal.’62 One can only wonder who these men were, whose funerals had to be carried out in such secrecy.
This essentially was the problem now agitating the crowds: the refusal to recognise the martyrs and the obvious lack of respect for those who had lost a family member, as the corpses were not handed over.
The hartal was finally lifted, with ‘direct action of the military under the operation of Martial Law’,63 which was proclaimed on 15 April.
But more importantly, was there any necessity to impose martial law in Lahore, at all?
Not if one looks at the social diary of O’Dwyer, because it was a pretty busy social week for him. On 10 April (as Amritsar was burning, and Lahore was ‘disturbed’), O’Dwyer had a garden party in the Lawrence Gardens, attended by ‘people from the town’. On 12 April he was called for dinner by Sir Zulfikar Ali Khan, and on 14 April a big Durbar was held by him, attended by people from the district. There were meetings being held by the officials throughout and the law courts functioned normally. Yet, the town was militarised, and on 15 April, the military strength ‘was 406 British troops, 250 Indian Defence Force, (European Section), 381 Indian Troops, 460 armed police, 800 unarmed police and 3 armoured cars. By the 20th, more British troops came, making an aggregate of 1000.’64
Even the most enthusiastic advocates of martial law had to eventually concede that there was no compelling reason for it to be imposed in Lahore.65
When Kitchin, Commissioner of Lahore, who as such was in charge of the Districts of Amritsar, Lahore and Gujranwala was cross-examined by the Hunter Committee he felt that there were only a few reasons to impose Martial Law:
Q: If there were no other considerations the civil authority could soon after the 11th that is, on the 12th, 13th and 14th as the case may be, have taken back control and carried on with such aid as might have been necessary from the military?
A: Yes, in individual places.
Q: According to your statement in almost all places?
A: Yes.
Q: But your view is that martial law was wanted not for the purpose of getting control but for the purpose of what you describe as preventing the spread of infection?
A: Yes.
Q: And that is your only justification for martial law being declared.
A: That was the immediate reason.
Q: And I also take it the second important reason from your point of view was to provide for the speedy disposal of the cases of persons who had already been arrested between the 10th and 13th?
A: That is the reason which weighed with me. I have no reason to suppose it weighed with anyone else.
Q: In your view those were the two main reasons for the declaration of martial law, preventing the spread of infection, and finding some speedy method of disposing of the cases of persons already arrested?
A: Yes.
Yet, as the HC pointed out, most of these emergency measures already existed with the civil authorities under the Defence of India Act, and the Seditious Meetings Act.
But for those who were so inclined, martial law provided an immense opportunity to humiliate and harrass. No one was better qualified to do this (with the exception perhaps of Dyer) than Johnson. Many regulations were imposed in Lahore, some that he had thought up himself, and some that were suggested by Civil Service officers.
Johnson administered martial law ‘intensively’ and conditions were equally depressing in Lahore and Amritsar. Anyone breaking a rule, such as the curfew order of being out after 8 p.m., was likely to be ‘shot, flogged, fined or imprisoned to otherwise punished’.66
To begin with, Johnson wanted four Lahore representatives (Europeans were exempt) to be present every day at the water works of every ward from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. to disseminate his orders to the people. As it was their responsibility to ensure that orders were widely known, this was the only work they could do. He also imposed a special curfew order, by which Indians (once again, Europeans or those in possession of special military permits were exempt) could not leave their homes or be on the streets between 8 p.m. and 5 a.m. (The timings were amended to between 12 a.m. and 2 a.m., six weeks later.)
Among the first things he did was to break the hartal and force the shops to open, but he also went ahead and fixed the prices. The price of non-compliance was to be shot or have the shops forcibly opened and their contents distributed free to the public.67
Even worse was his restriction on mobility and transport. He took away all motor cars and other vehicles from Indians, and gave them to Europeans to teach the so-called rebels a lesson they would not forget.
In his written statement submitted to the Hunter Committee, he said: ‘Under Order III all motor cars had to be surrendered for military service, but in cases where I was satisfied that cars were essential to the business or professio
n of a European, their cars were at once released and an exemption certificate issued. I refrained from granting exemptions in the case of Indian residents in Lahore as I thought it desirable to bring home to them all—loyal or disloyal alike—some of the inconveniences of martial law in the hope and belief that in future the weight of their influence will be wholeheartedly thrown against seditious movements likely to lead to the introduction of martial law.’68
Q: What were the reasons for commandeering tongas and vehicles which were plying for hire? Was it not that they also took place in (the) hartal?
A: That was the main reason. They were taking part in (the) hartal. No one could move in Lahore if he wanted to; they refused to carry him.69
Not only did he take away motor cars and tongas, he even ordered that the ordinary bicycles belonging to Indians be delivered up to military authorities; they were then handed over to officials for their own use. Electric fans and other electric fittings belonging to Indians were commandeered and stripped from the houses for the use of British soldiers.70 Even public conveyances were not allowed into the city and were parked outside. This was April, and it was very hot: to deprive people of all means of transport, and even fans, indicated that he wanted to inconvenience and punish all income groups among Indians, from the poor to the rich. As in Amritsar, it was this latter section, and the upper-middle-class professionals—lawyers, doctors, businessmen, traders—who had been organising the hartals. Students had also been helping in the satyagraha and they were to be specially humiliated by his orders.
The reason for choosing petty discriminations was that if anyone broke a rule (which was fairly easy to do), they could be arrested and punished. It made people fearful and worried even when stepping out of the house, in case they made a mistake. None of the rules applied to Europeans. In Hitler’s Germany, Jews had to wear a star to distinguish them from the rest—here the colour of the skin was enough.
Johnson made it ‘unlawful’ for two Indians to walk abreast and all meetings and gathering of more than ten persons were banned. He also specifically chose the homes on which he wanted his martial law orders pasted.
While appearing before the Hunter Committee, he was asked:
Q: You left the selection of these houses to the Criminal Investigative Department?
A: They submitted a list. I requested them to submit a list of people who were not notoriously loyal. I selected the houses from the geographical position from the map.71
Through Order VIII issued on 16 April, Johnson notified: ‘All orders to be issued under martial law will be handed to such owners of property as I may select and it will be the duty of such owners of property to exhibit and keep exhibiting all such orders. The duty of protecting such orders will, therefore, devolve on the owners of property and failure to ensure the proper protection and continued exhibition of my orders will result in severe punishment.’
The owners of the property ran the risk that if someone else tore down the order or defaced it, they—the owners of the property—were likely to be arrested and severely punished. Johnson, when asked about the order, said he thought it was reasonable and that he would do it again: ‘It was one of the few brainwaves I had.’72
This ‘brainwave’ created a nightmare for Sanatan Dharam College where a poster was torn off, leading to the arrest of all ‘male persons’ in the compound.
The Hunter Committee Report documented that more than 65 students and all the professors were taken to the Fort three miles away and interned for 30 hours. Of course, they were threatened with dire consequences were the posters torn again.
In his cross-examination, Johnson was asked again if he thought this had been a reasonable order to make.
Quite unfazed, he replied he had to make an example of someone in order to stop the posters from being torn down.
Q: And your frame of mind then was, as you indicate in your report on page 11, that you were waiting for an opportunity to bring home to all concerned the power of martial law?
A: That was so, Sir.
Q: You were longing for an opportunity?
A: Only in the interest of the people themselves.
And then, in another case, he was asked:
Q: And you marched these 500 students and their professors in the sun three miles?
A: That is so.
Q: And you still maintain that was a proper exercise of your authority as martial law administrator?
A: Absolutely. I would do it again tomorrow in similar circumstances.73
He had a definite madness to his method.
For instance, he ordered that students from three colleges—the DAV College, the Dyal Singh College and the Medical College—should attend roll call four times a day, which meant they had to walk 16 miles in the hot sun. He said that this was meant to keep them out of mischief. Over 1,000 students were punished thus and many were expelled and rusticated, while others had their scholarships and stipends stopped.
All such punishments were indiscriminate and not related to any particular misdeed. For instance, he decided that a certain percentage of students should be punished from each college. The principals of each college were obliged to send him the numbers he demanded. ‘When the Principals of the various colleges sent up the list of punishments, in cases in which he thought the punishments were either not adequate or did not come up to proper percentages, he remitted the list to the Principals to bring up the lists to the proper percentages.’74
Given below is an extract from letter No 111-4, dated 10 May 1919, from the Staff Officer, Lahore (Civil) Command, Punjab Club, Lahore to the address of the Principal, DAV College, Lahore:
In order to assist you in framing a scale of punishments, I am directed to inform you that in the case of the Government College, 6 students are being expelled and debarred from ever entering any other college in the University, 6 are not to be allowed to proceed to any further examination, 6 are to be rusticated for a year, 15 forfeit their scholarships, besides minor punishments in 112 other cases.
In the Dayal Singh College, 7 students are to be expelled, 5 are to be rusticated for a year, 14 will be put back one year, 14 are suspended for three months, 2 are temporarily deprived of their scholarships, and 224 are to suffer minor punishments, while 245 are required to furnish substantial securities for their future behaviours.
The Officer Commanding thinks that it may help you to submit proposals which will save him the necessity of closing your college. . . I add that he expects disciplinary action to be in no degree less than those to which I have drawn your attention.
Signed W. Barns Major
Staff Officer
Lahore Civil Command75
While some of the students might have been out on the streets of Lahore on 10 or 14 April, the desire to punish a ‘percentage’ of them, many of whom may have been entirely uninvolved, is inexplicable. Undoubtedly, these bizarre punishments would have ruined hundreds of young lives. These students, because of the composition of the population of Lahore, would have included Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs.
Q: Because you got reports of the character you mention with regard to 20, 30, or even 50 (students), you thought that was enough to justify in making orders of this character affecting thousands?
A: I thought I was justified in making the orders at the time; I still think, and I shall always think so.
When two students who were to be punished with rustication asked that they withdraw their names from the current year, Johnson replied adamantly that they should be reinstated in the list or two other names included.76
Other orders also made no effort to distinguish between those who were guilty or innocent.
In Order No. 1 issued by him, it was suggested that: ‘If any firearm is discharged or bomb thrown at the military or the police, the most drastic reprisals will instantly be made against the properties surrounding the outrage.’ He proceeded to call a hundred leading persons from the city to tell them that if any ‘bomb fell or that if any British sol
dier or anybody was wounded or injured as a result of that bomb, that spot would be deemed the centre of a circle having a diameter of a hundred yards and that he would give them one hour in which to remove everything living from that circle and at the end of that time the demolition of every building other than mosques or temples would take place inside that circle’.
He also declared that the ‘continuation of electric lights and water will depend on the good behaviour of the inhabitants and their obedience to our orders’. This was an open threat and was meant to make life as insecure as possible for the residents of Lahore.
It was almost as though Dyer and Johnson were competing with each other. If one was to be eventually known as the Butcher of Amritsar, the other was already known as the Physician from Bechuanaland, which was the appellation given to him by The Independent in an ironical allusion ‘to the panegyrics of The Pioneer, which hailed him as the “physician” with expert experience of Martial Law in Bechuanaland’. Johnson, on his part, said ‘he had been longing to show the people of the Punjab the might of Martial Law.’77 Overseeing all of this was the triumvirate of O’Dwyer, Kitchin and Thompson. They were quite content to let the army do as it pleased, while giving suggestions.
Among the many racially motivated and distasteful punishments were the public floggings. Johnson ‘declared that these were not public but quasi-public floggings, whatever that may mean. They were only inflicted on people of low social status. He was not a doctor, and could not say whether whipping might affect the health of the victim. But he thought it was an essential punishment. People liked going to gaol, and flogging was a better deterrent.’ A particularly horrible instance of this was the whipping of an entire wedding party, including the priest, for breaking curfew hours. Johnson called it a ‘regrettable incident’.78
It appears that Johnson’s reign of terror spread to the villages surrounding Lahore as well. One example demonstrates how perfunctory the entire business was. While no European was ever touched, all Indians—whether in the city or the village—were fair game.
Jallianwala Bagh, 1919 Page 16