NATIONALISM IN INDIA
India is a land of paradox. Possessing a fundamental geographical unity,
India has never known real political union save that recently imposed
externally by the British "Raj." Full of warlike stocks, India has never
been able to repel invaders. Occupied by many races, these races have
never really fused, but have remained distinct and mutually hostile,
sundered by barriers of blood, speech, culture, and creed. Thus India,
large and populous as Europe or China, has neither, like China, evolved
a generalized national unity; nor, like Europe, has developed a
specialized national diversity; but has remained an amorphous, unstable
indeterminate, with tendencies in both directions which were never
carried to their logical conclusion.
India's history has been influenced mainly by three great invasions: the
Aryan invasion, commencing about 1500 B.C.; the Mohammedan invasion,
extending roughly from A.D. 1000 to 1700, and the English invasion,
beginning about A.D. 1750 and culminating a century later in a complete
conquest which has lasted to the present day.
The Aryans were a fair-skinned people, unquestionably of the same
general stock as ourselves. Pressing down from Central Asia through
those north-western passes where alone land-access is possible to India,
elsewhere impregnably guarded by the mountain wall of the Himalayas, the
Aryans subdued the dark-skinned Dravidian aborigines, and settled down
as masters. This conquest was, however, superficial and partial. The
bulk of the Aryans remained in the north-west, the more adventurous
spirits scattering thinly over the rest of the vast peninsula. Even in
the north large areas of hill-country and jungle remained in the
exclusive possession of the aborigines, while very few Aryans ever
penetrated the south. Over most of India, therefore, the Aryans were
merely a small ruling class superimposed upon a much more numerous
subject population. Fearing to be swallowed up in the Dravidian ocean,
the Aryans attempted to preserve their political ascendancy and racial
purity by the institution of "caste," which has ever since remained the
basis of Indian social life. Caste was originally a "colour line." But
it was enforced not so much by civil law as by religion. Society was
divided into three castes: Brahmins, or priests; Kshatriyas, or
warriors; and Sudras, or workers. The Aryans monopolized the two upper
castes, the Sudras being the Dravidian subject population. These castes
were kept apart by a rigorous series of religious taboos. Intermarriage,
partaking of food and drink, even physical propinquity, entailed
ceremonial defilement sometimes inexpiable. Disobedience to these taboos
was punished with the terrible penalty of "outcasting," whereby the
offender did not merely fall to a lower rank in the caste hierarchy but
sank even below the Sudra and became a "Pariah," or man of no-caste,
condemned to the most menial and revolting occupations, and with no
rights which even the Sudra was bound to respect. Thus Indian society
was governed, not by civil, but by ceremonially religious law; while,
conversely, the nascent Indian religion ("Brahminism") became not
ethical but social in character.
These things produced the most momentous consequences. As a "colour
line," caste worked very imperfectly. Despite its prohibitions, even the
Brahmins became more or less impregnated with Dravidian blood.[192] But
as a social system caste continued to function in ways peculiar to
itself. The three original castes gradually subdivided into hundreds and
even thousands of sub-castes. These sub-castes had little or nothing of
the original racial significance. But they were all just as exclusive as
the primal trio, and the outcome was a shattering of Indian society into
a chaos of rigid social atoms, between which co-operation or even
understanding was impossible. The results upon Indian history are
obvious. Says a British authority: "The effect of this permanent
maintenance of human types is that the population is heterogeneous to
the last degree. It is no question of rich and poor, of town and
country, of employer and employed: the differences lie far deeper. The
population of a district or a town is a collection of different
nationalities--almost different species--of mankind that will not eat or
drink or intermarry with one another, and that are governed in the more
important affairs of life by committees of their own. It is hardly too
much to say that by the caste system the inhabitants of India are
differentiated into over two thousand species, which, in the intimate
physical relations of life, have as little in common as the inmates of a
zoological garden."[193]
Obviously, a land socially atomized and politically split into many
principalities was destined to fall before the first strong invader.
This invader was Islam. The Mohammedans attacked India soon after their
conquest of Persia, but these early attacks were mere border raids
without lasting significance. The first real Mohammedan invasion was
that of Mahmud of Ghazni, an Afghan prince, in A.D. 1001. Following the
road taken by the Aryans ages before, Mahmud conquered north-western
India, the region known as the Punjab. Islam had thus obtained a firm
foothold in India, and subsequent Moslem leaders spread gradually
eastward until most of northern India was under Moslem rule. The
invaders had two notable advantages: they were fanatically united
against the despised "Idolaters," and they drew many converts from the
native population. The very antithesis of Brahminism, Islam, with its
doctrine that all Believers are brothers, could not fail to attract
multitudes of low-castes and out-castes, who by conversion might rise to
the status of the conquerors. This is the main reason why the
Mohammedans in India to-day number more than 70,000,000--over one-fifth
of the total population. These Indian Moslems are descended, not merely
from Afghan, Turkish, Arab, and Persian invaders, but even more from the
millions of Hindu converts who embraced Islam.
For many generations the Moslem hold on India was confined to the north.
Then, early in the sixteenth century, the great Turko-Mongol leader
Baber entered India and founded the "Mogul" Empire. Baber and his
successors overran even the south, and united India politically as it
had never been united before. But even this conquest was superficial.
The Brahmins, threatened with destruction, preached a Hindu revival; the
Mogul dynasty petered out; and at the beginning of the eighteenth
century the Mogul Empire collapsed, leaving India a welter of warring
principalities, Mohammedan and Hindu, fighting each other for religion,
for politics, or for sheer lust of plunder.
Out of this anarchy the British rose to power. The British were at first
merely one of several other European elements--Portuguese, Dutch, and
French--who established small settlements along the Indian coasts. The
Europeans never dreamed of conquering India while the Mogul power
endured. In fact, the British connection with India began as a purely
trading venture--the East India Company. But when India collapsed into
anarchy the Europeans were first obliged to acquire local authority to
protect their "factories," and later were lured into more ambitious
schemes by the impotence of petty rulers. Gradually the British ousted
their European rivals and established a solid political foothold in
India. The one stable element in a seething chaos, the British
inevitably extended their authority. At first they did so reluctantly.
The East India Company long remained primarily a trading venture, aiming
at dividends rather than dominion. However, it later evolved into a real
government with an ambitious policy of annexation. This in turn awakened
the fears of many Indians and brought on the "Mutiny" of 1857. The
mutiny was quelled, the East India Company abolished, and India came
directly under the British Crown, Queen Victoria being later proclaimed
Empress of India. These events in turn resulted not only in a
strengthening of British political authority but also in an increased
penetration of Western influences of every description. Roads, railways,
and canals opened up and unified India as never before; the piercing of
the Isthmus of Suez facilitated communication with Europe; while
education on European lines spread Western ideas.
Over this rapidly changing India stood the British "Raj"--a system of
government unique in the world's history. It was the government of a few
hundred highly skilled administrative experts backed by a small
professional army, ruling a vast agglomeration of subject peoples. It
was frankly an absolute paternalism, governing as it saw fit, with no
more responsibility to the governed than the native despots whom it had
displaced. But it governed well. In efficiency, honesty, and sense of
duty, the government of India is probably the best example of
benevolent absolutism that the world has ever seen. It gave India
profound peace. It played no favourites, holding the scales even between
rival races, creeds, and castes. Lastly, it made India a real political
entity--something which India had never been before. For the first time
in its history, India was firmly united under one rule--the rule of the
_Pax Britannica_.
Yet the very virtues of British rule sowed the seeds of future trouble.
Generations grew up, peacefully united in unprecedented
acquaintanceship, forgetful of past ills, seeing only European
shortcomings, and, above all, familiar with Western ideas of
self-government, liberty, and nationality. In India, as elsewhere in the
East, there was bound to arise a growing movement of discontent against
Western rule--a discontent varying from moderate demands for increasing
autonomy to radical demands for immediate independence.
Down to the last quarter of the nineteenth century, organized political
agitation against the British "Raj" was virtually unknown. Here and
there isolated individuals uttered half-audible protests, but these
voices found no popular echo. The Indian masses, pre-occupied with the
ever-present problem of getting a living, accepted passively a
government no more absolute, and infinitely more efficient, than its
predecessors. Of anything like self-conscious Indian "Nationalism" there
was virtually no trace.
The first symptom of organized discontent was the formation of the
"Indian National Congress" in the year 1885. The very name showed that
the British Raj, covering all India, was itself evoking among India's
diverse elements a certain common point of view and aspiration. However,
the early congresses were very far from representing Indian public
opinion, in the general sense of the term. On the contrary, these
congresses represented merely a small class of professional men,
journalists, and politicians, all of them trained in Western ideas. The
European methods of education which the British had introduced had
turned out an Indian _intelligentsia_, conversant with the English
language and saturated with Westernism.
This new _intelligentsia_, convinced as it was of the value of Western
ideals and achievements, could not fail to be dissatisfied with many
aspects of Indian life. In fact, its first efforts were directed, not so
much to politics, as to social and economic reforms like the suppression
of child-marriage, the remarriage of widows, and wider education. But,
as time passed, matters of political reform came steadily to the fore.
Saturated with English history and political philosophy as they were,
the Indian intellectuals felt more and more keenly their total lack of
self-government, and aspired to endow India with those blessings of
liberty so highly prized by their English rulers. Soon a vigorous native
press developed, preaching the new gospel, welding the intellectuals
into a self-conscious unity, and moulding a genuine public opinion. By
the close of the nineteenth century the Indian _intelligentsia_ was
frankly agitating for sweeping political innovations like representative
councils, increasing control over taxation and the executive, and the
opening of the public services to Indians all the way up the scale.
Down to the closing years of the nineteenth century Indian discontent
was, as already said, confined to a small class of more or less
Europeanized intellectuals who, despite their assumption of the title,
could hardly be termed "Nationalists" in the ordinary sense of the word.
With a few exceptions, their goal was neither independence nor the
elimination of effective British oversight, but rather the reforming of
Indian life along Western lines, including a growing degree of
self-government under British paramount authority.
But by the close of the nineteenth century there came a change in the
situation. India, like the rest of the Orient, was stirring to a new
spirit of political and racial self-consciousness. True nationalist
symptoms began to appear. Indian scholars delved into their musty
chronicles and sacred texts, and proclaimed the glories of India's
historic past. Reformed Hindu sects like the Arya Somaj lent religious
sanctions. The little band of Europeanized intellectuals was joined by
other elements, thinking, not in terms of piecemeal reforms on Western
models, but of a new India, rejuvenated from its own vital forces, and
free to work out its own destiny in its own way. From the nationalist
ranks now arose the challenging slogan: "Bandemataram!" ("Hail,
Motherland!")[194]
The outstanding feature about this early Indian nationalism was that it
was a distinctively Hindu movement. The Mohammedans regarded it with
suspicion or hostility. And for this they had good reasons. The ideal of
the new nationalists was Aryan India, the India of the "Golden Age."
"Back to the Vedas!" was a nationalist watchword, and this implied a
veneration for the past, including a revival of aggressive Brahminism.
An extraordinary change came over the _intelligentsia_. Men who, a few
years before, had proclaimed the superiority of Western ideas and had
openly flouted "superstitions" like idol-worship, now denounced
everything Western and reverently sacrificed to the Hindu gods. The
"sacred soil" of India must be purged of the foreigner.[195] But the
"foreigner," as these nationalists conceived him, was not merely the
Englishman; he was the Mohammedan as well. This was stirring up the past
with a vengeance. For centuries the great Hindu-Mohammedan division had
run like a chasm athwart India. It had never been closed, but it had
been somewhat veiled by the neutral overlordship of the British Raj. Now
the veil was torn aside, and the Mohammedans saw themselves menaced by a
recrudescence of militant Hinduism like that which had shattered the
Mogul Empire after the death of the Emperor Aurangzeb two hundred years
before. The Mohammedans were not merely alarmed; they were infuriated as
well. Remembering the glories of the Mogul Empire just as the Hindus did
the glories of Aryan India, they considered themselves the rightful
lords of the land, and had no mind to fall under the sway of despised
"Idolaters." The Mohammedans had no love for the British, but they hated
the Hindus, and they saw in the British Raj a bulwark against the
potential menace of hereditary enemies who outnumbered them nearly five
to one. Thus the Mohammedans denounced Hindu nationalism and proclaimed
their loyalty to the Raj. To be sure, the Indian Moslems were also
affected by the general spirit of unrest which was sweeping over the
East. They too felt a quickened sense of self-consciousness. But, being
a minority in India, their feelings took the form, not of territorial
"patriotism," but of those more diffused sentiments, Pan-Islamism and
Pan-Islamic nationalism, which we have already discussed.[196]
Early Indian nationalism was not merely Hindu in character; it was
distinctly "Brahminical" as well. More and more the Brahmins became the
driving-power of the movement, seeking to perpetuate their supremacy in
the India of the morrow as they had enjoyed it in the India of the past.
But this aroused apprehension in certain sections of Hindu society. Many
low-castes and Pariahs began to fear that an independent or even
autonomous India might be ruled by a tyrannical Brahmin oligarchy which
would deny them the benefits they now enjoyed under British rule.[197]
Also, many of the Hindu princes disliked the thought of a theocratic
régime which might reduce them to shadows.[198] Thus the nationalist
movement stood out as an alliance between the Brahmins and the
Western-educated _intelligentsia_, who had pooled their ambitions in a
programme for jointly ruling India.
Quickened by this ambition and fired by religious zeal, the nationalist
movement rapidly acquired a fanatical temper characterized by a mystical
abhorrence of everything Western and a ferocious hatred of all
Europeans. The Russo-Japanese War greatly inflamed this spirit, and the
very next year (1905) an act of the Indian Government precipitated the
gathering storm. This act was the famous Partition of Bengal. The
partition was a mere administrative measure, with no political intent.
But the nationalists made it a "vital issue," and about this grievance
they started an intense propaganda that soon filled India with seditious
unrest. The leading spirit in this agitation was Bal Gangadhar Tilak,
who has been called "the father of Indian unrest." Tilak typified the
nationalist movement. A Brahmin with an excellent Western education, he
was the sworn foe of English rule and Western civilization. An able
propagandist, his speeches roused his hearers to frenzy, while his
newspaper, the _Yugantar_, of Calcutta, preached a campaign of hate,
assassination, and rebellion. Tilak's incitements soon produced tangible
results, numerous riots, "dacoities," and murders of Englishmen taking
place. And of course the _Yugantar_ was merely one of a large number of
nationalist organs, some printed in the vernacular and others in
English, which vied with one another in seditious invective.
The violence of the nationalist press may be judged by a few quotations.
"Revolution," asserted the _Yugantar_, "is the only way in which a
slavish society can save itself. If you cannot prove yourself a man in
life, play the man in death. Foreigners have come and decided how you
are to live. But how you are to die depends entirely upon yourself."
"Let preparations be made for a general revolution in every household!
The handful of police and soldiers will never be able to withstand this
ocean of revolutionists. Revolutionists may be made prisoners and may
die, but thousands of others will spring into their places. Do not be
afraid! With the blood of heroes the soil of Hindustan is ever fertile.
Do not be downhearted. There is no dearth of heroes. There is no dearth
of money; glory awaits you! A single frown (a few bombs) from your eyes
has struck terror into the heart of the foe! The uproar of panic has
filled the sky. Swim with renewed energy in the ocean of bloodshed!" The
assassination note was vehemently stressed. Said S. Krishnavarma in _The
Indian Sociologist_: "Political assassination is not murder, and the
rightful employment of physical force connotes 'force used defensively
against force used aggressively.'" "The only subscription required,"
stated the _Yugantar_, "is that every reader shall bring the head of a
European." Not even women and children were spared. Commenting on the
murder of an English lady and her daughter, the _Yugantar_ exclaimed
exultantly: "Many a female demon must be killed in course of time, in
order to extirpate the race of Asuras from the breast of the earth." The
fanaticism of the men (usually very young men) who committed these
assassinations may be judged by the statement of the murderer of a high
English official, Sir Curzon-Wyllie, made shortly before his execution:
"I believe that a nation held down by foreign bayonets is in a perpetual
state of war. Since open battle is rendered impossible to a disarmed
race, I attacked by surprise; since guns were denied to me, I drew my
pistol and fired. As a Hindu I feel that wrong to my country is an
insult to the gods. Her cause is the cause of Shri Ram; her service is
the service of Shri Krishna. Poor in wealth and intellect, a son like
myself has nothing else to offer the Mother but his own blood, and so I
have sacrificed the same on Her altar. The only lesson required in India
at present is to learn how to die, and the only way to teach it is to
die ourselves; therefore I die and glory in my martyrdom. This war will
continue between England and India so long as the Hindee and English
races last, if the present unnatural relation does not cease."[199]
The government's answer to this campaign of sedition and assassination
was of course stern repression. The native press was muzzled, the
agitators imprisoned or executed, and the hands of the authorities were
strengthened by punitive legislation. In fact, so infuriated was the
European community by the murders and outrages committed by the
nationalists that many Englishmen urged the withdrawal of such political
privileges as did exist, the limiting of Western education, and the
establishment of extreme autocratic rule. These angry counsels were at
once caught up by the nationalists, resulted in fresh outrages, and were
answered by more punishment and fresh menaces. Thus the extremists on
both sides lashed each other to hotter fury and worsened the situation.
For several years India seethed with an unrest which jailings, hangings,
and deportations did little to allay.
Presently, however, things took at least a temporary turn for the
better. The extremists were, after all, a small minority, and cool
heads, both British and Indian, were seeking a way out of the _impasse_.
Conservative Indian leaders like Mr. Gokhale condemned terrorism, and
besought their countrymen to seek the realization of their aspirations
by peaceful means. On the other hand, liberal-minded Englishmen, while
refusing to be stampeded, sought a programme of conciliation. Indian
affairs were then in the hands of the eminent Liberal statesman John
Morley, and the fruit of his labours was the Indian Councils Act of
1909. The act was a distinct departure from the hitherto almost
unlimited absolutism of British rule in India. It gave the Indian
opposition greatly increased opportunities for advice, criticism, and
debate, and it initiated a restricted scheme of elections to the
legislative bodies which it established. The salutary effect of these
concessions was soon apparent. The moderate nationalist elements, while
not wholly satisfied, accepted the act as an earnest of subsequent
concessions and as a proof of British good-will. The terrorism and
seditious plottings of the extremists, while not stamped out, were held
in check and driven underground. King George's visit to India in 1911
evoked a wave of loyal enthusiasm which swept the peninsula and augured
well for the future.
The year 1911 was the high-water mark of this era of appeasement
following the storms of 1905-9. The years after 1911 witnessed a gradual
recrudescence of discontent as the first effect of the Councils Act wore
off and the sense of unfulfilled aspiration sharpened the appetite for
more. In fact, during these years, Indian nationalism was steadily
broadening its base. In one sense this made for stability, for the
nationalist movement ceased to be a small minority of extremists and
came more under the influence of moderate leaders like Mr. Gokhale, who
were content to work for distant goals by evolutionary methods. It did,
however, mean an increasing pressure on the government for fresh
devolutions of authority. The most noteworthy symptom of nationalist
growth was the rallying of a certain section of Mohammedan opinion to
the nationalist cause. The Mohammedans had by this time formed their own
organization, the "All-India Moslem League." The league was the reverse
of nationalist in complexion, having been formed primarily to protect
Moslem interests against possible Hindu ascendancy. Nevertheless, as
time passed, some Mohammedans, reassured by the friendly attitude and
promises of the Hindu moderates, abandoned the league's anti-Hindu
attitude and joined the moderate nationalists, though refraining from
seditious agitation. Indeed, the nationalists presently split into two
distinct groups, moderates and extremists. The extremists, condemned by
their fellows, kept up a desultory campaign of violence, largely
directed by exiled leaders who from the shelter of foreign countries
incited their followers at home to seditious agitation and violent
action.
Such was the situation in India on the outbreak of the Great War; a
situation by no means free from difficulty, yet far less troubled than
it had been a few years before. Of course, the war produced an increase
of unrest and a certain amount of terrorism. Yet India, as a whole,
remained quiet. Throughout the war India contributed men and money
unstintedly to the imperial cause, and Indian troops figured notably on
European, Asiatic, and African battlefields.
However, though the war-years passed without any serious outbreak of
revolutionary violence, it must not be thought that the far more
widespread movement for increasing self-government had been either
quenched or stilled. On the contrary, the war gave this movement fresh
impetus. Louder and louder swelled the cry for not merely good
government but government acceptable to Indian patriots because
responsible to them. The very fact that India had proved her loyalty to
the Empire and had given generously of her blood and treasure were so
many fresh arguments adduced for the grant of a larger measure of
self-direction. Numerous were the memoranda presented to the British
authorities by various sections of Indian public opinion. These
memoranda were an accurate reflection of the different shades of Indian
nationalism. The ultimate goal of all was emancipation from British
tutelage, but they differed widely among themselves as to how and when
this emancipation was to be attained. The most conservative contented
themselves with asking for modified self-government under British
guidance, while the more ambitious asked for the full status of a
dominion of the British Empire like Australia and Canada. The
revolutionary element naturally held aloof, recognizing that only
violence could serve their aim--immediate and unqualified independence.
Of course even the more moderate nationalist demands implied great
changes in the existing governmental system and a diminution of British
control such as the Government of India was not prepared at present to
concede. Nevertheless, the government met these demands by a
conciliatory attitude foreshadowing fresh concessions in the near
future. In 1916 the Viceroy, Lord Harding, said: "I do not for a moment
wish to discountenance self-government for India as a national ideal. It
is a perfectly legitimate aspiration and has the sympathy of all
moderate men, but in the present position of India it is not idealism
that is needed but practical politics. We should do our utmost to
grapple with realities, and lightly to raise extravagant hopes and
encourage unrealizable demands can only tend to delay and will not
accelerate political progress. I know this is the sentiment of wise and
thoughtful Indians. Nobody is more anxious than I am to see the early
realization of the legitimate aspirations of India, but I am equally
desirous of avoiding all danger of reaction from the birth of
institutions which experience might prove to be premature."
As a matter of fact, toward the close of 1917, Mr. Montagu, Secretary of
State for India, came out from England with the object of thoroughly
canvassing Indian public opinion on the question of constitutional
reform. For months the problem was carefully weighed, conferences being
held with the representatives of all races, classes, and creeds. The
result of these researches was a monumental report signed by Mr. Montagu
and by the Viceroy, Lord Chelmsford, and published in July, 1918.
The report recommended concessions far beyond any which Great Britain
had hitherto made. It frankly envisaged the gift of home rule for India
"as soon as possible," and went on to state that the gift was to be
conferred not because of Indian agitation, but because of "the faith
that is in us." There followed these memorable words: "We believe
profoundly that the time has come when the sheltered existence which we
have given India cannot be prolonged without damage to her national
life; that we have a richer gift for her people than any that we have
yet bestowed on them; that nationhood within the Empire represents
something better than anything India has hitherto attained; that the
placid, pathetic contentment of the masses is not the soil on which such
Indian nationhood will grow, and that in deliberately disturbing it we
are working for her highest good."
The essence of the report was its recommendation of the principle of
"diarchy," or division of governmental responsibility between
councillors nominated by the British executive and ministers chosen
from elective legislative bodies. This diarchy was to hold for both the
central and provincial governments. The legislatures were to be elected
by a much more extensive franchise than had previously prevailed and
were to have greatly enlarged powers. Previously they had been little
more than advisory bodies; now they were to become "legislatures" in the
Western sense, though their powers were still limited, many powers,
particularly that of the purse, being still "reserved" to the executive.
The British executive thus retained ultimate control and had the last
word; thus no true "balance of power" was to exist, the scales being
frankly weighted in favour of the British Raj. But the report went on to
state that this scheme of government was not intended to be permanent;
that it was frankly a transitional measure, a school in which the Indian
people was to serve its apprenticeship, and that when these first
lessons in self-government had been learned, India would be given a
thoroughly representative government which would not only initiate and
legislate, but which would also control the executive officials.
The Montagu-Chelmsford Report was exhaustively discussed both in India
and in England, and from these frank discussions an excellent idea of
the Indian problem in all its challenging complexity can be obtained.
The nationalists split sharply on the issue, the moderates welcoming the
report and agreeing to give the proposed scheme of government their
loyal co-operation, the extremists condemning the proposals as a snare
and a sham. The moderate attitude was stated in a manifesto signed by
their leaders, headed by the eminent Indian economist Sir Dinshaw Wacha,
which stated: "The proposed scheme forms a complicated structure capable
of improvement in some particulars, especially at the top, but is
nevertheless a progressive measure. The reforms are calculated to make
the provinces of India reach the goal of complete responsible
government. On the whole, the proposals are evolved with great
foresight and conceived in a spirit of genuine sympathy with Indian
political aspirations, for which the distinguished authors are entitled
to the country's gratitude." The condemnation of the radicals was voiced
by leaders like Mr. Tilak, who urged "standing fast by the Indian
National Congress ideal," and Mr. Bepin Chander Pal, who asserted: "It
is my deliberate opinion that if the scheme is accepted, the Government
will be more powerful and more autocratic than it is to-day."
Extremely interesting was the protest of the anti-nationalist groups,
particularly the Mohammedans and the low-caste Hindus. For it is a fact
significant of the complexity of the Indian problem that many millions
of Indians fear the nationalist movement and look upon the autocracy of
the British Raj as a shield against nationalist oppression and
discrimination. The Mohammedans of India are, on the question of
self-government for India, sharply divided among themselves. The
majority still dislike and fear the nationalist movement, owing to its
"Hindu" character. A minority, however, as already stated, have rallied
to the nationalist cause. This minority grew greatly in numbers during
the war-years, their increased friendliness being due not merely to
desire for self-government but also to anger at the Allies' policy of
dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire and kindred policies in the Near and
Middle East.[200] The Hindu nationalists were quick to sympathize with
the Mohammedans on these external matters, and the result was a
cordiality between the two elements never known before.
The predominance of high-caste Brahmins in the nationalist movement
explains the opposition of many low-caste Hindus to Indian home rule. So
great is the low-caste fear of losing their present protection under the
British Raj and of being subjected to the domination of a high-caste
Brahmin oligarchy that in recent years they have formed an association
known as the "Namasudra," led by well-known persons like Doctor
Nair.[201] The Namasudra points out what might happen by citing the
Brahminic pressure which occurs even in such political activity as
already exists. For example: in many elections the Brahmins have
terrorized low-caste voters by threatening to "out-caste" all who should
not vote the Brahmin ticket, thus making them "Pariahs"--untouchables,
with no rights in Hindu society.
Such protests against home rule from large sections of the Indian
population gave pause even to many English students of the problem who
had become convinced of home rule's theoretical desirability. And of
course they greatly strengthened the arguments of those numerous
Englishmen, particularly Anglo-Indians, who asserted that India was as
yet unfit for self-government. Said one of these objectors in _The Round
Table_: "The masses care not one whit for politics; Home Rule they do
not understand. They prefer the English District Magistrate. They only
ask to remain in eternal and bovine quiescence. They feel confidence in
the Englishman because he has always shown himself the 'Protector of the
Poor,' and because he is neither Hindu nor Mussulman, and has a
reputation for honesty." And Lord Sydenham, in a detailed criticism of
the Montagu-Chelmsford proposals, stated: "There are many defects in our
system of government in India. Reforms are needed; but they must be
based solely upon considerations of the welfare of the masses of India
as a whole. If the policy of 'deliberately' disturbing their
'contentment' which the Viceroy and the Secretary of State have
announced is carried out; if, through the 'whispering galleries of the
East,' the word is passed that the only authority that can maintain law
and order and secure the gradual building-up of an Indian nation is
weakening; if, as is proposed, the great public services are
emasculated; then the fierce old animosities will break out afresh, and,
assisted by a recrudescence of the reactionary forces of Brahminism,
they will within a few years bring to nought the noblest work which the
British race has ever accomplished."[202]
Yet other English authorities on Indian affairs asserted that the
Montagu-Chelmsford proposals were sound and must be enacted into law if
the gravest perils were to be averted. Such were the opinions of men
like Lionel Curtis[203] and Sir Valentine Chirol, who stated: "It is of
the utmost importance that there should be no unnecessary delay. We have
had object-lessons enough as to the danger of procrastination, and in
India as elsewhere time is on the side of the troublemakers.... We
cannot hope to reconcile Indian Extremism. What we can hope to do is to
free from its insidious influence all that is best in Indian public life
by opening up a larger field of useful activity."[204]
As a matter of fact, the Montagu-Chelmsford Report was accepted as the
basis of discussion by the British Parliament, and at the close of the
year 1919 its recommendations were formally embodied in law.
Unfortunately, during the eighteen months which elapsed between the
publication of the report and its legal enactment, the situation in
India had darkened. Militant unrest had again raised its head, and India
was more disturbed than it had been since 1909.
For this there were several reasons. In the first place, all those
nationalist elements who were dissatisfied with the report began
coquetting with the revolutionary irreconcilables and encouraging them
to fresh terrorism, perhaps in the hope of stampeding the British
Parliament into wider concessions than the report had contemplated. But
there were other causes of a more general nature. The year 1918 was a
black one for India. The world-wide influenza epidemic hit India
particularly hard, millions of persons being carried off by the grim
plague. Furthermore, India was cursed with drought, the crops failed,
and the spectre of famine stalked through the land. The year 1919 saw an
even worse drought, involving an almost record famine. By the late
summer it was estimated that millions of persons had died of hunger,
with millions more on the verge of starvation. And on top of all came an
Afghan war, throwing the north-west border into tumult and further
unsettling the already restless Mohammedan element.
The upshot was a wave of unrest revealing itself in an epidemic of
riots, terrorism, and seditious activity which gave the British
authorities serious concern. So critical appeared the situation that a
special commission was appointed to investigate conditions, and the
report handed in by its chairman, Justice Rowlatt, painted a depressing
picture of the strength of revolutionary unrest. The report stated that
not only had a considerable number of young men of the educated upper
classes become involved in the promotion of anarchical movements, but
that the ranks were filled with men belonging to other social orders,
including the military, and that there was clear evidence of successful
tampering with the loyalty of the native troops. To combat this growing
disaffection, the Rowlatt committee recommended fresh repressive
legislation.
Impressed with the gravity of the committee's report, the Government of
India formulated a project of law officially known as the Anarchical and
Revolutionary Crimes Act, though generally known as the Rowlatt Bill. By
its provisions the authorities were endowed with greatly increased
powers, such as the right to search premises and arrest persons on mere
suspicion of seditious activity, without definite evidence of the same.
The Rowlatt Bill at once aroused bitter nationalist opposition. Not
merely extremists, but many moderates, condemned it as a backward step
and as a provoker of fresh trouble. When the bill came up for debate in
the Indian legislative body, the Imperial Legislative Council, all the
native members save one opposed it, and the bill was finally passed on
strictly racial lines by the votes of the appointed English majority.
However, the government considered the bill an absolute pre-requisite to
the successful maintenance of order, and it was passed into law in the
spring of 1919.
This brought matters to a head. The nationalists, stigmatizing the
Rowlatt law as the "Black Cobra Act," were unmeasured in their
condemnation. The extremists engineered a campaign of militant protest
and decreed the date of the bill's enactment, April 6, 1919, as a
national "Humiliation Day." On that day monster mass-meetings were held,
at which nationalist orators made seditious speeches and inflamed the
passions of the multitude. "Humiliation Day" was in fact the beginning
of the worst wave of unrest since the mutiny. For the next three months
a veritable epidemic of rioting and terrorism swept India, particularly
the northern provinces. Officials were assassinated, English civilians
were murdered, and there was wholesale destruction of property. At some
moments it looked as though India were on the verge of revolution and
anarchy.
However, the government stood firm. Violence was countered with stern
repression. Riotous mobs were mowed down wholesale by rifle and
machine-gun fire or were scattered by bombs dropped from low-flying
aeroplanes. The most noted of these occurrences was the so-called
"Amritsar Massacre," where British troops fired into a seditious
mass-meeting, killing 500 and wounding 1500 persons. In the end the
government mastered the situation. Order was restored, the seditious
leaders were swept into custody, and the revolutionary agitation was
once more driven underground. The enactment of the Montagu-Chelmsford
reform bill by the British Parliament toward the close of the year did
much to relax the tension and assuage discontent, though the situation
of India was still far from normal. The deplorable events of the earlier
part of 1919 had roused animosities which were by no means allayed. The
revolutionary elements, though driven underground, were more bitter and
uncompromising than ever, while opponents of home rule were confirmed in
their conviction that India could not be trusted and that any relaxation
of autocracy must spell anarchy.
This was obviously not the best mental atmosphere in which to apply the
compromises of the Montagu-Chelmsford reforms. In fact, the extremists
were determined that they should not be given a fair trial, regarding
the reforms as a snare which must be avoided at all costs. Recognizing
that armed rebellion was still impossible, at least for the present, the
extremists evolved the idea known as "non-co-operation." This was, in
fact, a gigantic boycott of everything British. Not merely were the new
voters urged to stay away from the polls and thus elect no members to
the proposed legislative bodies, but lawyers and litigants were to avoid
the courts, taxpayers refuse to pay imposts, workmen to go on strike,
shopkeepers to refuse to buy or sell British-made goods, and even pupils
to leave the schools and colleges. This wholesale "out-casting" of
everything British would make the English in India a new sort of
Pariah--"untouchables"; the British Government and the British community
in India would be left in absolute isolation, and the Raj, rendered
unworkable, would have to capitulate to the extremist demands for
complete self-government.
Such was the non-co-operation idea. And the idea soon found an able
exponent: a certain M. K. Gandhi, who had long possessed a reputation
for personal sanctity and thus inspired the Hindu masses with that
peculiar religious fervour which certain types of Indian ascetics have
always known how to arouse. Gandhi's propaganda can be judged by the
following extract from one of his speeches: "It is as amazing as it is
humiliating that less than 100,000 white men should be able to rule
315,000,000 Indians. They do so somewhat, undoubtedly, by force, but
more by securing our co-operation in a thousand ways and making us more
and more helpless and dependent on them, as time goes forward. Let us
not mistake reformed councils (legislatures), more law-courts, and even
governorships for real freedom or power. They are but subtler methods of
emasculation. The British cannot rule us by mere force. And so they
resort to all means, honourable and dishonourable, in order to retain
their hold on India. They want India's billions and they want India's
man-power for their imperialistic greed. If we refuse to supply them
with men and money, we achieve our goal: namely, _Swaraj_,[205]
equality, manliness."
The extreme hopes of the non-co-operation movement have not been
realized. The Montagu-Chelmsford reforms have been put in operation, and
the first elections under them were held at the beginning of 1921. But
the outlook is far from bright. The very light vote cast at the
elections revealed the effect of the non-co-operation movement, which
showed itself in countless other ways, from strikes in factories to
strikes of school-children. India to-day is in a turmoil of unrest. And
this unrest is not merely political; it is social as well. The vast
economic changes which have been going on in India for the past
half-century have profoundly disorganized Indian society. These changes
will be discussed in later chapters. The point to be here noted is that
the extremist leaders are capitalizing social discontent and are
unquestionably in touch with Bolshevik Russia. Meanwhile the older
factors of disturbance are by no means eliminated. The recent atrocious
massacre of dissident Sikh pilgrims by orthodox Sikh fanatics, and the
three-cornered riots between Hindus, Mohammedans, and native Christians
which broke out about the same time in southern India, reveal the hidden
fires of religious and racial fanaticism that smoulder beneath the
surface of Indian life.
The truth of the matter is that India is to-day a battle-ground between
the forces of evolutionary and revolutionary change. It is an anxious
and a troubled time. The old order is obviously passing, and the new
order is not yet fairly in sight. The hour is big with possibilities of
both good and evil, and no one can confidently predict the outcome.
FOOTNOTES:
[192] According to some historians, this race-mixture occurred almost at
once. The theory is that the Aryan conquerors, who outside the
north-western region had very few of their own women with them, took
Dravidian women as wives or concubines, and legitimatized their
half-breed children, the offspring of the conquerors, both pure-bloods
and mixed-bloods, coalescing into a closed caste. Further infiltration
of Dravidian blood was thus prevented, but Aryan race-purity had been
destroyed.
[193] Sir Bampfylde Fuller, _Studies of Indian Life and Sentiment_, p.
40 (London, 1910). For other discussions of caste and its effects, see
W. Archer, _India and the Future_ (London, 1918); Sir V. Chirol, _Indian
Unrest_ (London, 1910); Rev. J. Morrison, _New Ideas in India: A Study
of Social, Political and Religious Developments_ (Edinburgh, 1906); Sir
H. Risley, _The People of India_ (London, 1908); also writings of the
"Namasudra" leader, Dr. Nair, previously quoted, and S. Nihal Singh,
"India's Untouchables," _Contemporary Review_, March, 1913.
[194] For the nationalist movement, see Archer, Chirol, and Morrison,
_supra_. Also Sir H. J. S. Cotton, _India in Transition_ (London, 1904);
J. N. Farquhar, _Modern Religious Movements in India_ (New York, 1915);
Sir W. W. Hunter, _The India of the Queen and Other Essays_ (London,
1903); W. S. Lilly, _India and Its Problems_ (London, 1902); Sir V.
Lovett, _A History of the Indian Nationalist Movement_ (London, 1920);
J. Ramsay Macdonald, _The Government of India_ (London, 1920); Sir T.
Morison, _Imperial Rule in India_ (London, 1899); J. D. Rees, _The Real
India_ (London, 1908); Sir J. Strachey, _India: Its Administration and
Progress_ (Fourth Edition--London, 1911); K. Vyasa Rao, _The Future
Government of India_ (London, 1918).
[195] I have already discussed this "Golden Age" tendency in Chapter
III. For more or less Extremist Indian view-points, see A. Coomaraswamy,
_The Dance of Siva_ (New York, 1918); H. Maitra, _Hinduism: The
World-Ideal_ (London, 1916); Bipin Chandra Pal, "The Forces Behind the
Unrest in India," _Contemporary Review_, February, 1910; also various
writings of Lajpat Rai, especially _The Arya Samaj_ (London, 1915) and
_Young India_ (New York, 1916).
[196] For Indian Mohammedan points of view, mostly anti-Hindu, see H. H.
The Aga Khan, _India in Transition_ (London, 1918); S. Khuda Bukhsh,
_Essays: Indian and Islamic_ (London, 1912); Sir Syed Ahmed, _The
Present State of Indian Politics_ (Allahabad, 1888); Syed Sirdar Ali
Khan, _The Unrest in India_ (Bombay, 1907); also his _India of To-day_
(Bombay, 1908).
[197] This attitude of the "Depressed Classes," especially as revealed
in the "Namasudra Association," has already been discussed in Chapter
III, and will be further touched upon later in this present chapter.
[198] Regarding the Indian native princes, see Archer and Chirol,
_supra_. Also J. Pollen, "Native States and Indian Home Rule," _Asiatic
Review_, January 1, 1917; The Maharajah of Bobbili, _Advice to the
Indian Aristocracy_ (Madras, 1905); articles by Sir D. Barr and Sir F.
Younghusband in _The Empire and the Century_ (London, 1905).
[199] A good symposium of extremist comment is contained in Chirol,
_supra_. Also see J. D. Rees, _The Real India_ (London, 1908); series of
extremist articles in _The Open Court_, March, 1917. A good sample of
extremist literature is the fairly well-known pamphlet _India's
"Loyalty" to England_ (1915).
[200] Discussed in the preceding chapter.
[201] Quoted in Chapter IV.
[202] Lord Sydenham, "India," _Contemporary Review_, November, 1918. For
similar criticisms of the Montagu-Chelmsford proposals, see G. M.
Chesney, _India under Experiment_ (London, 1918); "The First Stage
towards Indian Anarchy," _Spectator_, December 20, 1919.
[203] Lionel Curtis, _Letters to the People of India on Responsible
Government_, already quoted at the end of Chapter IV.
[204] Sir V. Chirol, "India in Travail," _Edinburgh Review_, July, 1918.
[205] _I. e._, self-government, in the extremist sense--practically
independence.