THE FIRST YEARS OF THE NATIONALIST MOVEMENT
_Partition of Bengal._ It was on the 16th of October, 1905, that the old
Province of Bengal was partitioned by Lord Curzon. On that day “immense
numbers of people in the two divisions of the partitioned province
abstained from lighting their kitchen fire, went about barefooted,
performed ceremonial baths in rivers or sacred tanks,[69] and tied on
one another’s wrist the sacred _rakhi_, a piece of silk or cotton
thread, as a symbol of fraternal or national unity.” On the 7th of
August, 1905, the leaders of Bengal, in public meeting assembled, in the
Calcutta Town Hall, under the presidency of Maharaja Mannidra Chandra
Nundy of Cossimbazar,[70] had already declared “a general boycott of
British goods as a practical protest against the proposed partition.”
_Boycott of British Goods._ The original idea was to resort to boycott
as a temporary measure, and therefore in the pledges drawn up in the
early days, a time limit was put in. The boycott was to last until “the
partition was withdrawn.” In the words of a Bengalee politician, the
idea was to cause pecuniary loss to the British manufacturer and thus
enlist his sympathy and help for the purpose of getting the measure
cancelled. But it was soon discovered that the boycott might be an
effective economic weapon, to be used as a measure of protection against
the economic exploitation of the country by the foreigner.
To quote the same writer, “The pledges sent from Calcutta came back,
duly signed by large numbers of people, but with the conditional
sentence, ‘until Partition is withdrawn,’ scored through. The boycott
was a great success for some time. ‘The Lucky Day’ of October, 1905, on
which generally a very large number of forward contracts in Manchester
goods are made at Calcutta, passed without any business being done.
Simultaneously with this decline in foreign goods, many indigenous
industries began to revive. There was a boom in handlooms all over
India. Provinces outside of Bengal did not adopt a policy of active
boycott, but the cry of Swadeshi[71] was taken up by all the country,
whereby a great impetus was given to indigenous manufacturers. The
significance of the movement in Bengal, where it was rigorously pursued,
lay in the fact that prince and peasant, capitalist and labourer,
literate and illiterate, educated and uneducated, all joined hands.” For
some time the boycott was so effective that _The Englishman_, an
Anglo-Indian newspaper published in Calcutta, declared: “It is
absolutely true that Calcutta warehouses are full of fabrics that can
not be sold. In the earlier days of the boycott it was the fashion to
assert that depression in piece goods trade was due to this or the other
economic cause.
“Many prominent Marwari[72] Firms have been absolutely ruined and a
number of the biggest European import houses have had either to close
down their piece goods branch or to put up with a very small business,
where they previously had a large one. As for stocks in warehouses, they
tend to grow larger, as Marwari and Indian buyers who had given forward
orders, now state that they can not afford to take delivery. These facts
are now so well known that it is idle to attempt to hide them. Indeed
the time has come when all injuries inflicted on trade by boycott should
be made fully known. There is no question of encouraging the boycotters,
as they need no encouragement. But there is the question of thoroughly
awakening the public at home and the Government of India to the fact
that in boycott the enemies of the Ráj have found a most effective
weapon for injuring British interests in the country.”
The triumph of the boycotters was testified to by the following remarks
of _The Englishman_, with which the article ended: “The question however
is, what is the Government going to do about it? _Boycott must not be
acquiesced in, or it will more surely ruin British connection with India
than an armed revolution._” [The italics are ours.]
_Government’s Reply._ In reply to this move on the part of the Bengalee
leaders,--a move in which all Bengal was united, including the present
moderates,--the Government started a crusade against the students whom
the boycotters had enlisted in their service. The bureaucracy thought
that the more active part of the propaganda was carried on by them.
According to Mr. B. C. Pal, “the success of the boycott, especially in
the earlier stages before the sentiment had time to settle down into the
conscience and consciousness of the people, depended almost entirely
upon picketing.” Mr. Pal assures us that “their method was uniformly
intellectual and moral,” and that “there was no intimidation, no
violence, no appeal to physical fear, none of the things that
characterise picketing among the robuster people of the West.”
The British, of course, do not accept this statement as true. But
whatever its nature, the Government did not like picketing. They thought
they could not stand by and let a movement of that kind gain strength.
“Their first move was to make it penal for the young student population
to participate in any way in the nationalist activities. Students who
attended public meetings were threatened with various punishments to the
extent even of expulsion from school, college, or university.”
_The Second Move of the Bengalees: The National University._ The
Bengalee leaders then put their heads together and resolved to start a
National University, wherein education would be given independent of
government control. The educational policy of Lord Curzon had already
set people to thinking along that line. The measures now adopted to
strike at the boycott movement by punishing the students who
participated therein “accentuated the need and called forth actual
measures to meet it.” This movement also, like the boycott, met the
universal support of United Bengal. The actual leadership of it fell on
Sir Gurdas Bannerjea, late Judge of the Calcutta High Court, who had
been vice-chancellor of the Calcutta University for some time and whose
loyalty and moderation had never been questioned by friend or foe.
Besides, he had sat on the University Commission appointed by Lord
Curzon and had written a note of dissent from the policy recommended by
the majority of its members. “Under his guidance, the Bengal Council of
National Education proposed to work, independent of, but by no means in
opposition to, the Government Education Department. And this independent
activity was justified on the ground that the education hitherto
imparted under official supervision lacked a vital reference to the
thoughts, the sentiments, the traditions, the religions, and even the
outer physical and biological environments of the people. The object of
the new movement was to organise a thoroughly national system of
education, both scientific and literary, as well as technical, on
_national lines_ and under _national control_.”
Besides making an ample provision for literary, scientific, and
technical education, the National Council of Education at once reduced
English to the status of a secondary language, the first place being
given to Bengalee and Sanskrit, and in the case of Mohammedans to Urdu,
Persian, and Arabic.
The National Education Movement in Bengal was in no way an
anti-government movement. Though it owed its “initiation to the threats
of the Government to close the doors of the official schools and
colleges and universities against those who would take any part in, even
to the extent of simply attending, any political meeting or
demonstration, the National Education Movement in Bengal sought to avoid
all open causes of friction with the authorities and proposed to work
_independent of_, but not in _opposition to_, the Government. Political
in its origin, it tried to avoid all conflicts with the authorities by
assuming an absolutely non-political attitude.”
_Arabinda Ghosh._ To this movement, Indian Nationalism owes the emerging
into prominence of a quiet, unostentatious, young Hindu, who was till
then comparatively obscure, holding his soul in patience and waiting for
opportunities to send currents of the greatest strength into the
nation’s system. He was gathering energy. His name was Arabinda Ghosh.
Arabinda had received first class education in England. The headmaster
of the school, where he studied before joining the university, is
reported to have said that during the 25 to 30 years he had been in
charge of the school, Arabinda Ghosh was by far the most richly endowed
in intellectual capacity of any of the students that had come under his
charge.
At Cambridge he distinguished himself in European classics and took
first class honours. He
[Illustration: ARABINDA GHOSH]
passed the Indian Civil Service examinations with credit, but failed in
the test for horsemanship. Never did a failure prove more a blessing
than in his case.
He was in the service of His Highness, the Maharaja of Baroda,[73]
drawing a salary of about 500 pounds sterling, when his country’s call
came to him. He listened to it readily, gave up his post and agreed to
be the principal of the National College on ten pounds a month. We are
told by one who worked with him for some time that he did not support
the “declaration of the National Council of Education” about their
non-political attitude. He could not appreciate this needless dread, as
they thought, of offending official susceptibilities. He, however,
accepted the verdict of the majority and began his work. But his
position as “the nominal head of the National College, controlled by
men” who “differed from him in their political views and opinions,
became almost from the very beginning anomalous.” This was rather
unfortunate. Arabinda Ghosh had received the best modern education that
any man of his country and generation could expect to have. He had for
some years been a teacher of youth in Baroda and had acquired
considerable experience in his art. He had clearly realised the spirit
and actualities of the life of his nation, and knew how the most
advanced principles of pedagogy could be successfully worked into a
thoroughly national system of education in India. He knew that the
foundations of national independence and national greatness must be
laid in a strong and advanced system of national education. He had a
political ideal, no doubt; but politics meant to him much more than is
ordinarily understood by the term. It was not a game of expediency, but
a “school of human character” which acted and reacted on the life of the
nation. “Education could no more be divorced from politics,” in his
opinion, “than it could be divorced from religion and morals. Any system
of education that helps such isolation and division between the various
organic relations of life is mediæval and not modern.”[74]
The monied leaders of the National Council of Education movement,
however, could not accept Arabinda’s principles. “They were not free
from the fear of possible official opposition, which, if once aroused,
would make their work, they thought, absolutely impossible. They had a
real dread of the bureaucracy” whom they were not prepared to defy.
Experience has shown that they were quite mistaken if they thought they
could develop their scheme of education without rousing the fears and
the bitterest opposition of the bureaucracy, even after declaring the
non-political character of their scheme.
Never before in the history of the human race was it so well realised as
now that the school is the nursery of the man and the citizen. Lord
Curzon realised it in full and it was his aim to curtail or, if
possible, crush the nationalist influences in the schools and colleges
managed and conducted by Indian agencies. It was his desire to introduce
the English element in all these institutions and to put them under
English control. He had invited European missionaries to the Secret
Educational Conference at Simla, but not a single Indian, Hindu or
Mohammedan. He could not trust them (_i. e._, the Indians) with his
ideas. Hence the need of secrecy. The National Council of Education was
supposed to be working against the spirit of his policy. He was gone,
but the bureaucracy who were identified with his wishes, views and
schemes, were there. It was impossible that they would let the
Bengalees, whoever they might be, build up a system of education and a
network of educational institutions, that not only would owe nothing to
the Government but were also to be quite free of official or English
control and of English influence.
Then, the very circumstances under which the National College was born
and the National Schools affiliated to it were opened, gave them a
political character. The Government and the bureaucracy were opposed to
the students taking any part in the boycott movement; the Bengalee
leaders wanted them to do so, and hence the National College and the
National Schools. It was an open challenge--a revolt. Arabinda Ghosh was
identified with this revolt, and with him were associated a whole group
of powerful writers and speakers, all men of high individuality and
lofty ideals and of pure character. They accepted the decision of the
majority about the non-political character of the college, but no one
could deprive them of the use of their pen and tongue. Any attempt to do
that might have been fatal to the scheme. They started journals and
preached the gospel of political and economic and educational
independence in the clearest language. They were all men of education
and knew their history well. They fully realised what the consequences
were likely to be, and they were prepared for it. They were prepared to
suffer for their propaganda, but they were not yet prepared for
violence.
_The Nationalist Press._ They started a number of papers in Bengalee and
also in English, in which they gave their ideas to the people. The
_Sandhya_ and the _Bande Mátaran_, as two of the new papers were called,
became their classrooms. In a few months the face and the spirit of
Bengal was changed. The press, the pulpit, the platform, the writers of
prose and poetry, composers of music and playwrights, all were filled
with the spirit of nationalism. Bande Mataram (Hail Motherland) was the
cry of the day. It was chanted in schools, in colleges, in streets, in
houses, in public squares, almost everywhere. Even the government
offices and the compounds of the private residences of European
officials resounded with it.
_Sabhas_ and _Samitis_ and _Akharas_[75] leaped into existence by
hundreds, where the Bengalee young men began to take lessons in fencing
and other games. This was their reply to those who taunted them as
cowards; for the famous, or rather infamous, remarks of Macaulay about
Bengalees were often hurled at their heads by the Anglo-Indians, or new
language was used to express the same thoughts.
The boycott had created an unheard of situation in some of the districts
in Eastern Bengal. In one district--Barisal--the Superintendent of
Police and the Collector had both failed to be able to buy a piece of
Manchester shirting for one of their friends, as no trader would sell it
except by permission of the gentleman who was the leader of the
boycotters. This leader happened to be a man who had made his influence
by his character and by service. He was, so to say, the uncrowned king
of his district. That was a crusher to the bureaucracy. No foreign
bureaucracy could tolerate it. Sir William Bamfylde Fuller, on whom had
fallen the first Lieutenant Governorship of Eastern Bengal, was
bewildered by the strength of the movement and the new character which
the Bengalees were developing. The people refused to show him the
customary honours. Even the presence of the Lieutenant Governor in the
town did not prevent the people from giving ovations to anti-partition
propagandists and making anti-partition demonstrations. At one place it
is said that even the railway porters refused to touch his baggage,
which had to be carried by police constables. This was more than he
could bear.
_Military Measures against Boycotters._ After consultation with Lord
Curzon, he resolved to use force. The first step taken was the despatch
of a hundred Gurkha troops to Barisal, followed by a demand for the
withdrawal of a circular issued by the local leaders advising the people
of the legality of a peaceful boycott of British goods. It was evident
that a refusal meant a physical conflict, which the leaders were yet
anxious to avoid. So the leaders decided to withdraw and the governor
was mollified. The Gurkhas are said to have committed numerous outrages
on the people, but the leaders kept the latter under control, as they
did not want the Government to get a handle to crush the movement by
force.
In April, 1906, the Provincial Conference, which was attended by the
most prominent leaders of the two Bengals, was broken up by order of the
Magistrate “almost at the point of the bayonet.” A procession of some
800 or 900 delegates from the different districts of the two provinces,
“including almost every prominent leader in the country, was dispersed
by the police, who made a free use of their quarterstaffs and broke more
than one head under the very eyes of the District Superintendent of
Police.” The people, however, did not retaliate. So far, they were
determined not to use force even against force. With every display of
force on the side of the Government, the nationalist movement gained
ground in popularity and in strength, until the masses, the women and
children, all were saturated with it.
This was the birth of a new life in Bengal, which found its reflection
in every phase of public activity, religious, social, economic,
educational, or political. What was done in Bengal found its echo in
the rest of the country. So far the Nationalist party was united. The
elder people, who had been born and bred and had lived in a different
atmosphere, were not in full accord with the younger party and
remonstrated with the latter, when they indulged in intemperate
language. Some people in other provinces did not quite approve of the
wholesale boycott, inaugurated and declared by the Bengalees, but
otherwise the nation was united, and the best mind of the nation was
rather gratified at the turn things had taken.
_Lord Minto._ With the advent of Lord Minto (in 1905), however, things
began to assume a different shape. The first serious difference in the
Nationalist party occurred over the presidentship of the Indian National
Congress at Calcutta in 1906, but an actual split was avoided by a
clever and diplomatic move of the leaders of the new moderate party, who
obtained the consent of Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji[76] to accept the
presidentship, if offered to him. The Congress session of 1906 was
rather an uproarious session, but eventually the spirit of compromise
and conciliation prevailed and the so-called extremists practically
gained all their points so far as the principle of them was concerned.
But it was clear, even to a superficial observer, that a split was
inevitable; Lord Minto had succeeded Lord Curzon as Viceroy, and a
visible change was coming in the policy of the Government. Lord Curzon
was for a policy of repression; Minto inaugurated a reign of
conciliation with repression. The movement might have succumbed if the
Government had been courageous enough to annul or modify the Partition
of Bengal, as they subsequently did in 1912. But that was not to be. On
that point the Government would not yield, though otherwise they were in
favour of making concessions.
_Indian Press Gagged._ The years 1905, 1906, and 1907 were years of
passive resistance. The nationalists indulged in strong language,
carried on a vigorous anti-British propaganda by means of the press and
the platform, used their pen and tongue rather freely, but did not think
of using force. Editor after editor, and publisher after publisher was
sent to prison without any diminution of the campaign. The years 1906
and 1907 saw a regular “tug of war” between the Government on the one
side and the nationalists on the other. A large number of prosecutions
were launched against the members of the press in Bengal and Bombay,
Punjab and the United Provinces, Madras and the Central Provinces, and
many persons were sentenced to long terms of imprisonment. A complete
boycott, economic, political and social, was openly preached, and
picketing was again resorted to. Some of the judicial trials were only
farcical, the judges being influenced by political considerations, and
convictions and sentences being foregone conclusions. Yet such was the
people’s regard for law, that so long as the procedure of an open trial
was not attacked, they did not think of employing
[Illustration: LAJPAT RAI
_From a painting by Mrs. Rieber, Berkeley, Cal._]
force for purposes of revenge. Even ill-treatment, either in lock-ups,
during trial, or in prisons, after conviction, failed to incite the
people to force. Political prisoners were applauded, glorified, and
otherwise supported and backed, but no thought of revenge entered
anybody’s head.
_Deportation of Lajpat Rai._ The sudden deportation of Lajpat Rai,
however, in May, 1907, changed the whole current of thought and action.
The nationalists concluded that the movement for passive resistance
required to be supported by secret propaganda as well as the use of
force against force. In the words of the Honourable Mr. G. K. Gokhale,
in a speech delivered in the Council of the Governor General after the
deportation of Lajpat Rai, the latter was a religious, social, and
educational reformer and was loved and respected by large classes of his
countrymen all over the country. He was one of the persons whom the
extreme Nationalists claimed as their own, whom the moderate
Nationalists also respected, and whom the populace “liked for his
philanthropic and educational activities.” The sudden capture of this
man, without trial, without charge, and without notice, drove the young
Nationalists to frenzy.[77] Even the sober and the thoughtful among the
Nationalists were in despair.
The Anglo-Indian press all over the country, however, was in jubilation.
The leading semi-official daily published at Lahore, the headquarters
of Lajpat Rai, described him as the leader of a deep-laid revolutionary
movement, every detail of which passed through his fingers. He was said
to have a following of “100,000 desperadoes.” _The Englishman_, at
Calcutta, charged him with having tampered with the loyalty of the
Indian army, and having incited the King of Afghanistan to invade India.
As a result of adding, as they did, insult to the injury of deportation,
the country was ablaze with indignation. The step was condemned by the
unanimous voice of the people. All differences of opinion were forgotten
and the whole country joined in protest. The extreme wing of the
nationalists, however, decided to take the next step. They decided to
use force and began to think of bomb and revolver and of a guerilla
warfare against the established despotism. The older people, though they
sympathised, would not agree to take any part in the movement using
physical force, nor would they give their sanction to such a course.
It is possible that some sort of secret organisation existed in Bengal
in 1906, but force did not enter into their programme till after May,
1907, i.e., until after the deportation of Lajpat Rai. The deportation
decided them. Yet the first shot was not fired until December, 1907, and
the first bomb was not thrown until April or May, 1908. The split[78] at
Surat in December, 1907, irrevocably divided the Nationalists into two
parties, and confirmed the younger party in their programme of force.
The extremists saw the hand of the Government in the split. Within a
few months almost all the leaders were seized and thrown into prison. At
Surat, Lajpat Rai, having thrown in his lot with the moderates, was for
a time left alone, but Bal Ganga Dhar Tilak, the Mahratta leader, was
prosecuted and sentenced to six years’ transportation. Arabinda Ghosh
was also seized and prosecuted for conspiracy to wage war against the
King, though he was afterwards acquitted for want of evidence. Bepin
Chandra Pal was also seized and sentenced to six months’ imprisonment;
Chidambaran Pillai, a Madras leader, to six years; a Mohammedan leader
of the United Provinces, Abul Hasan Hasrat Mohani, to one year. In
December, 1908, nine of the Bengal leaders were seized in their homes
and imprisoned by an administrative order without trial and without
charge.
_Disaffection Driven Underground._ These persecutions and sentences
exasperated the younger party and drove disaffection underground.
Undaunted by the loss of leaders, they continued their propaganda and
made several attempts on the lives of high officials. The life of the
Lieutenant Governor of Bengal was attempted no less than three times,
once in open daylight, when he was presiding at a certain state
function. The life of the viceroy, Lord Minto, was also attempted, at
Ahmedabad. The political secretary of Lord Morley, then Secretary of
State, was shot in London; a collector was murdered at Nasik, and many
other “outrages” were committed. Publications suppressed and condemned
were published and circulated secretly; arms were smuggled and stolen;
and attempts were made to wreck railways and otherwise terrorise the
Government. Throughout the year 1908 and 1909 the movement was kept up
at high pressure. Then in 1910 there was a comparative lull, though the
revolutionary activities did come up to the surface occasionally.
The year 1911 was perhaps the dullest year from the revolutionary point
of view. That was the year of the King’s visit to India. The King
modified the Partition of Bengal and ordered the transfer of the capital
to Delhi. For a time there was a great rejoicing in the country, not so
much because the Partition had been annulled, but because it was a
virtual triumph of the Nationalist agitation.
_Lord Hardinge Bombed._ In December, 1912, again, the revolutionary
party gave conclusive evidence of their existence and strength. A bomb
was thrown at Lord Hardinge, the Viceroy, when he was passing in
procession midst thousands of troops and hundreds of thousands of
spectators, making his first state entry into the new capital of British
India, the Delhi of the Moguls. Lord Hardinge was wounded, members of
his entourage killed and the procession broken up. The culprit escaped,
and in spite of offers of huge rewards[79] and unprecedented police
activity has remained undetected up to the present time. This is
considered to be the supreme achievement of the revolutionaries.
Throughout 1913 and 1914 the revolutionaries were active, and the scanty
news that has filtered but from India during the war gives ample reason
to think that they are very active now.
Within the last seven or eight years, the Government has tried every
form of repression, and has also planned a programme of partial
reconciliation, but they have so far failed to crush the extreme wing of
the Nationalist party, the wing that believes in force and that has
taken to all the methods of guerilla warfare against a foreign
government based on force.
The country is in such circumstances now that every step which the
Government takes to repress and crush the movement or to punish the
offenders, strengthens the spirit of revolt, adds to the volume and
intensity of the desire for revenge, adds to the number of those who are
prepared to suffer or even die for the cause. From the classes, the
movement has spread to the masses; from the non-fighting masses it is
now gaining ground and winning adherents among the fighting classes. In
1907 the charge of tampering with the army, laid at the door of Lajpat
Rai, was ridiculous. Perhaps there was a certain amount of disaffection
among the Punjab regiments due to the Agrarian legislation undertaken by
the Punjab Government, which deeply and detrimentally affected the
classes from which the army was recruited. When the legislation objected
to was vetoed, that cause of disaffection was removed; but since then
fresh causes have affected at least certain sections of the army also,
so that it cannot be said that the whole army is free from disaffection.
The riot at Singapore, caused by the revolt of one of the Indian
regiments stationed there, and certain happenings in the Punjab, amply
prove this.