Lets Kill Gandhi

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by Gandhi, Tushar A.


  As Gandhi finished speaking, Dr. Prafulla Ghosh accompanied by some of his ministers walked in. 'You have been very unfair to the Ministry in undertaking the fast without taking them into your confidence,' Ghosh complained.

  Gandhi replied, 'Perhaps you are right. But the conflagration was spreading so fast that every moment counted. Any avoidable delay would have meant further loss of innocent lives.' It had been an hour since Gandhi had been speaking and he was now showing signs of fatigue. Noticing this, Ghosh said, 'I do not wish to prolong the argument,' to which Gandhi replied, 'That is just like you. I had expected nothing less of you.' Not one to give up, Ghosh said, 'One thing, however, strikes me. You have launched your fast at a time when a section of the Hindus have begun to look upon you as their enemy. They foolishly feel that by asking them to practice non-violence, when the other side has shed all scruples, you are being very unfair to them. I would have had nothing to say if you had declared a fast for anything wrong that the Ministry did.'

  Gandhi said, 'All this is way off the mark. Don't you see, this now gives me the right to fast against the Muslims, too. My fast is intended to serve both the communities. The moment the Hindus realise that they cannot keep me alive on any other terms, peace will return to Calcutta.'

  Dr. Ghosh said, 'Your fast weighs down on us more than anything else. How can we effectively set to work under the heavy weight of your fast?' However, Gandhi told him that this was the wrong way of looking at things. He said his fast was intended to strengthen the hands of the people. At this point Suhrawardy intervened saying that the representatives of both the Hindus and Muslims should be called for a joint meeting. It was decided that the meeting would be held at the chief minister's residence. After this, Ghosh briefed Gandhi about the strict warning his government had issued to the press: any paper indulging in inflammatory propaganda, would be summarily suspended.

  On 3 September, the second day of Gandhi's fast, Dr. Mehta came to check on him. Even during such trying times, besides his regular routine, Gandhi worked at his daily Bengali lesson. Gandhi told him that he had had a very peaceful night and added, 'I am not at all anxious to terminate my fast. At this rate though the body mightbecome weaker, I feel I could go on even for one month.'

  It was reported that looting had continued in the city till past midnight, but had then subsided and since then all was quiet. Slowly the efforts of the peace workers and the political leaders, spurred on by Gandhi's fast, began to make a difference. Students from Calcutta University formed peace committees and peace processions started thronging Hydari Mansion, but its occupant was steadfast that he would break his fast only when he was convinced that a unity of the hearts had been established.

  The same evening, at half past six, a procession comprising both Hindus and Muslims came to Hydari Mansion. Two members from each community were allowed into the room where Gandhi lay. One of the Muslims, an eminent member of the Bengal Muslim League, pleaded with Gandhi to break his fast saying, 'I worked with you during the Khilafat movement. I undertake that no Muslim in this area will again disturb the peace. Your mere presence in our midst is an asset to us. It is the guarantee of our safety. Do not deprive us of it.' The two Hindu members also gave Gandhi the same assurance. Gandhi replied, 'My word seems to have lost its power so far as they are concerned. My fast will now be broken only when the conflagration ends and the glorious peace of the last fifteen days returns. If the Muslims really love me and regard me as an asset, they can demonstrate their faith in me by refusing to give way to the instinct of revenge and retaliation even if the whole of Calcutta goes mad. In the meantime, my ordeal must continue.'

  That evening, at a quarter past seven, Rajaji brought news that, compared to the previous day, the city was markedly peaceful and volunteers as well as the police were providing effective protection to members of both communities.

  Thursday, 4 September, the third day of the fast, dawned with a fest deterioration in Gandhi's physical condition. His voice was barely audible, just a little louder than a faint whisper. His pulse was rapid and erratic, and he felt giddy when he tried to stand up. That morning Gandhi had a surprise guest. Police Superintendent Abdullah of Noakhali turned up at Hydari Mansion. On seeing him Gandhi seemed a bit cheerful and said, 'What a curious coincidence! I was thinking of you, and wondering how we could meet and here you are!' This was Gandhi's last meeting with Abdullah, who returned to serve East Pakistan soon after. After Gandhi's murder, a memorial fund was established and the first contribution of Rs. 1,000 came from Abdullah.

  After chatting with him for a short while, Gandhi began editing the next issue of Harijan, which he continued to do throughout his fast.

  Then, as it had always happened, the tide began to turn. As the fast began taking a toll on the frail old man, it caused a deep impact amongst the people. At midday, a party of twenty-seven people, all residents of central Calcutta, came to meet him. They were members of what had come to be known as 'resistance groups'—groups of Hindus seeking revenge for the massacres during the Muslim League-sponsored Direct Action Day. They begged for Gandhi's forgiveness and pleaded with him to give up his fast. Gandhi paid no attention to their request or those from the several others who came to Hyadri Mansion.

  At half past five Gandhi received a note from Rajaji, which mentioned that tension had subsided in the city. Gandhi then rested for a while; he woke up to find Suhrawardy, N.C. Chatterji and Sardar Niranjan Singh Talib waiting to meet him. They informed Gandhi that, having visited localities that had been ravaged by riots, they had found the areas returning to normalcy. They ended with a request to Gandhi to break his fast. He said, 'Before I can accede to your request, I want to ask you two questions: First, can you in all sincerity assure me that there never will be repetition of trouble in Calcutta? Can you say that there is a genuine change of heart among the citizens so that they will no longer tolerate, much less foster communal frenzy? If you cannot give that guarantee, you should rather let me continue this fast. It won't hurt me. When a man fasts like this, it is not the gallons of water he drinks that sustains him but God; and second, if trouble breaks out—since you are not omnipotent or even omniscient—would you give me your word of honour that you would not live to report failure but lay down your life in the attempt to protect those whose safety you are pledging? You should remember, too, that if you break your pledge after giving it to me, you will have to face an unconditional fast unto death on my part.... If you deceive me ... my death will be upon your head. I want a clear and straight answer. Your assurance must be in writing.'

  It was quite clear to all those present in the room that Gandhi meant every word of what he was saying. Rajaji and Acharya Kripalani, who had arrived during the latter part of the discussion, proposed that they should leave Gandhi alone for a little while to confer among themselves. Just as the delegation was moving out of the room, a joint declaration signed by some forty representatives of Hindu and Muslim residents of Narkeldanga, Sitalatala, Maniktola and Kankurgachi areas was brought in. They pledged that no untoward incident would hereafter occur in their localities.

  The strain of speaking had drained the last of Gandhi's energy. The leaders went to the adjoining room and hammered out the draft of the peace pledge. The discussion was brief. Rajaji dictated the draft of the pledge which was signed first by N.C. Chatterji and D.N. Mukherjee of the Hindu Mahasabha, followed by Shaheed Suhrawardy as the leader of the Muslim League Parliamentary Party of West Bengal, R.K. Jaidka, the Punjabi leader and Niranjan Singh Talib, the Sikh leader. Immediately after its signing the leaders returned to Gandhi's room where it was read out to Gandhi: 'We the undersigned promise to Gandhiji that now that peace and quiet have been restored in Calcutta once again, we shall never allow communal strife in the city and shall strive unto death to prevent it.'

  'But, Sir, is it any good my signing this document?' remarked Suhrawardy to Gandhi. 'I may anytime be called to Pakistan and then what happens to my pledge?'

  'You must in
that event have confidence that those whom you leave behind will deliver the goods,' replied Gandhi. 'Moreover, you can come back.'

  Before breaking his fast, Gandhi said a few words to the gathering in Hindustani, 'I am breaking this fast so that I might be able to do something for the Punjab. I have accepted your assurance at its face value. I hope and pray I shall never have to regret it. I would certainly like to serve India and humanity, but I do not wish to be duped into prolonging my life. I hope I will not have again to fast for the peace of Calcutta. Let me therefore warn you that you dare not relax your vigilance. Calcutta today holds the key to the peace of the whole of India. If something happens here, its repercussion is bound to be felt elsewhere. You should therefore, solemnly resolve that even if the whole world went up in a blaze, Calcutta would remain untouched by the flames. You have just heard the song "Ishwar and Allah are Thy name". May he be witness between you and me.'

  At 9.15 pm on 4 September, seventy-three hours after it had commenced, Gandhi broke his fast by slowly sipping a glass of diluted orange juice given to him by Suhrawardy. Before the relieved leaders could disperse, Gandhi called Rajaji by his side and whispered to him, 'I am thinking of leaving for the Punjab tomorrow.' Rajaji was in a fix. Once Gandhi made up his mind it was difficult to deter him, but he was in no condition to travel. Suhrawardy sprang to the rescue by saying, 'Sir, you cannot leave Calcutta without giving the citizens of Calcutta an opportunity to join you in a public prayer and thanksgiving. If we tried tomorrow, it would be simply impossible to control the delirious crowd. At the earliest it can be the day after tomorrow.'

  Gandhi held his first public prayer meeting after the fast on 6 September. He reiterated his appeal for peace under all circumstances. He announced his plans for leaving for the Punjab the next evening. Suhrawardy seconded Gandhi's appeal and announced that he would be accompanying Gandhi in his peace mission to the Punjab. He had put himself unreservedly under 'Mahatmaji's' orders. Thereafter he would carry out his bidding.

  On 7 September Gandhi boarded the train for Delhi at Belur— a wayside station near Calcutta. He had decided to disembark in Delhi and spend a day there to consult with Nehru and Patel and then leave for the Punjab. The train rushed towards the national capital, bearing the apostle of peace to what was now being referred to as the 'city of the dead'.

  11

  * * *

  CITY OF THE DEAD

  'The wretches have created chaos in the whole city. What can we say to Pakistan now?'

  JAWAHARLAL NEHRU, lamenting the situation in Delhi

  Gandhi arrived in Delhi on the morning of 9 September; he was fated never to leave. A grim Patel received him at the railway station. Gandhi noticed that the usual crowd of ministers and Congress leaders was conspicuous by their absence. His arrival had been kept a secret from almost every one.

  In the car, rushing through the deserted streets of the capital, Patel told him that communal riots had erupted in the capital since 4 September. There was one more surprise awaiting Gandhi: he was not taken to Harijan Colony, his usual residence in Delhi, but instead to the residence of Seth Ghanshyamdas Birla. Patel explained that the colony had been occupied by refugees from West Punjab, and they would have to be displaced if he insisted on staying there.

  As Gandhi alighted from the car at Birla House, Nehru drove up. His face was furrowed by worry and the lack of sleep. He briefed Gandhi about the situation in the capital: a twenty-four hour curfew had been clamped on the city; the military had been deployed in the most ravaged areas, but arson, looting and murder still continued unabated and the streets were littered with the corpses of the victims. Nehru was indignant. 'The wretches have created chaos in the whole city. What can we say to Pakistan now?'

  'What is the use of being angry?' Gandhi asked.

  Nehru replied, 'I am angry with myself. We go about with armed guards under elaborate security measures. It is a disgrace. Ration shops have been looted. Fruits, vegetables and provisions are difficult to obtain. What must be the plight of the ordinary citizens? Dr. Joshi, the famous surgeon who knew no distinction between Hindu and Muslim but served both alike, was fired upon from a Muslim house while he was rushing to treat an ailing Muslim patient and killed.'

  There was no respite for Gandhi. A conference with leaders followed, and he was apprised about the situation in and around the capital. The atmosphere in Delhi had grown increasingly tense as hordes of refugees poured in from West Punjab. Fanatics had taken control on both sides of the border in the Punjab; minorities on either side were being attacked; the administration and its various arms had abdicated and could only stand by as the situation deteriorated into anarchy. The very structure of civilised society was under threat. The refugees coming in to Delhi brought with them tales of gruesome savagery: the large scale butchering of Hindus; the looting of their wealth and possessions; whole villages and communities wiped out; women raped, abducted, distributed as 'booty', sometimes sold to the highest bidder; children flung into infernos and speared to death in cold blood; attacks on fleeing refugee convoys and trains. There were also large scale mass conversions in West Punjab: Hindus and Sikhs were given two options—Islam or death. Many times the stories were vastly exaggerated and sensationalised to provoke people to seek revenge. Successfully so: Delhi erupted in a savagery reminiscent of the massacres the capital had last witnessed during the invasion of the Afghan invader Nadir Shah.

  In India and Pakistan, the ministers blamed the British officers commanding the Boundary Force, of inaction and complicity. The British officers, in turn, complained that the troops at their command refused to fire on, or take action against, their co-religionists—even if the latter were indulging in murder, arson and rape. On 29 August the Joint Defence Council decided to abolish the Punjab Boundary Force from 31 August midnight, as it was found to be useless for the purpose for which it was created. Responsibility for maintaining peace now rested on the respective governments. Mountbatten, his last executive responsibility having lapsed, left for Simla for ten days of rest. His rest and recreation was cut short when he was peremptorily called back by an urgent summons from Delhi. He arrived back in the capital on the afternoon of 5 September. The same day the government decided to set up an Emergency Committee of the Cabinet, with Mountbatten as its chairman, to deal with the situation. A notification was issued by the Government of India declaring the Delhi province a dangerously disturbed area. Orders were issued to the police and the armed forces to shoot to kill when they shot at lawbreakers. The notification permitted the infliction of the death penalty for offences like attempt to murder, kidnapping, abduction, apson, dacoity and looting.

  Pyarelal writes: After the fury of the first slaughter had been brought under control in the East Punjab, a most dangerous problem arose in the capital itself, where at one stage every fourth person was a refugee. The administration was faced with a most difficult situation. In the tornado of primitive passions that had broken loose individual wills seemed to count for nothing. Millions had been uprooted and thrown into an atomic turmoil, like forest leaves caught in a tropical hurricane. The biggest migration of population in recorded history was in progress. Almost ten million people were on the move in both directions across the border in the Punjab. The Government had not anticipated an outbreak of such dimensions. The civil authority, in both the Punjabs, was paralysed'.

  The Government of India had established a military evacuation organisation, which took over the evacuation of the refugees from the civil authorities in the first week of September. All modes of transport were utilised for the purpose—trains, motor cars and aeroplanes. Between 27 August and 6 November, it was later computed, 673 trains were run carrying over 2,799,000 inside India and across the border. Over 427,000 non-Muslims and over 217,000 Muslims were moved during the same period by motor transport using 1,200 military and civil vehicles. Nearly 27,000 evacuees were brought to India by government chartered planes on 962 flights between 15 September and 7 December. But thes
e measures catered to a very small number of the displaced people. The most effective method of moving such a vast number of people was by route marches. Long caravans of refugees on foot going east and west criss-crossed the fertile planes of the Punjab.

  To provide even the barest minimum of basic necessities to these uprooted millions was a mammoth task. There was always the risk of epidemics breaking out, due to the poor sanitation facilities and paucity of medical staff and supplies. The risk of violent clashes erupting as refugee caravans moved in opposite directions was always present. Clashes between incoming refugees—who had arrived with deep resentment due to the grief and the privations they had suffered—and members of the minority communities who had stayed back on both sides created what seemed to be an insurmountable situation for the civil and administrative services. During the meeting of the Emergency Committee, Mountbatten had uttered prophetic words, 'If we go down in Delhi we are finished', which summed up the gravity of the crises with which the government was faced.

  The harried government and the Congress leaders had only one hope—Gandhi. Would he be able to perform the miracle he had performed in Calcutta? They now all looked to him for guidance. At last he spoke to the assembled leaders. He declared that Delhi was not Calcutta. 'I find no one in Delhi who can accompany me and control the Muslims. There is no such person amongst the Sikhs or among the RSS either. I do not know what I shall be able to do here. But one thing is clear. I cannot leave this place until Delhi is peaceful again.' The assembled leaders heaved a sigh of relief. He had rescued them before, and they were certain he could be relied upon.

 

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