Olympics-The India Story

by Boria Majumdar

  Soon after the victory, the Viceroy congratulated the team on its record-breaking performance. Interestingly, the German Consul General from India sent the following message to Sir Jagdish Prasad, president of the IHF, ‘Please accept my heartiest congratulations on India’s hockey team’s remarkable performance at the Berlin Olympic Games. World’s best team won the final’.71 Georg Evers, president of the Deutsch Hockey Bund and the International Hockey Federation, congratulated Dhyan Chand on his team’s triumph: ‘You and your boys have done wonderfully to foster the game of hockey in our country. I hope that you will return to Indian with good impressions and with the same feeling of friendship to the German hockey players as we feel towards you…Tell them how much we all admired the skill and artful performance of the perfect hockey they have shown us’.72

  On their way back from Berlin, the Indian team stopped over in London. Lore has it that they met Douglas Jardine, already a star for his role in cricket’s Bodyline controversy. It was reported in the press back home that Jardine stopped his car and posed for a picture with Dhyan Chand and Roop Singh. The team sailed back to India in the streamer Strathmore. Travelling with the team was the Nawab of Pataudi, the Maharajkumar of Vizianagaram and the Governors of Bombay, Madras and Mysore.

  Extremely disappointing, however, was the way the team was welcomed in India on its return. Just as it received no public send-off when embarking for Berlin, there was no public homecoming on their victorious return. Masood describes the event thus:

  Bombay received us at the Ballard Pier with only two of its representatives —Mr. Behram Doctor of the Bombay Hockey Association and Mr. Mukherjee of the Bombay Olympic Association. At the railway stations in Germany, we had to be escorted by cordons of volunteers for fear of being squeezed in by enthusiasts…while in India, the land of our birth, we were welcomed by only two of her sons…Rain came in big drops as we were landing as a benevolent gesture of welcome from the heavens, and also showing the citizens of Bombay the state of our feelings of being neglected.73

  Modern Indian hockey players, neglected and forgotten in the passions over cricket, would have empathized. While the reception, or rather the lack of it, accorded to the team on 29 September was shocking, the federation led by the president deserved praise for the way in which it helped prepare the team for Berlin. As in the previous Olympics, the IHF was severely constrained for funds. In April 1936, the federation had a little more than Rs 6,600 left in its coffers. It needed Rs 40,000 to send the team to Berlin. Its financial troubles were compounded when the inter-provincial trials at Calcutta did not yield much by way of gate sales. Despite this, by the end of May, the federation had raised Rs 35,000 by way of contributions from princes, private individuals and several provincial hockey associations. The Nizam of Hyderabad contributed Rs 5,000 and the Gaekwad of Baroda £ 200.74 The president and office-bearers of the association also made personal contributions to make the trip possible. In fact, even when it was known that the federation would incur an additional expense of Rs 1,700 in sending Dara to reinforce the team, it did not flinch.

  CONCLUSION

  The 1936 Olympic campaign finally put to rest the question mark against India’s hockey supremacy. India had won all its matches in style, scoring 38 goals in the process and conceding only one. Dhyan Chand, once discriminated against for his inferior social status, had consolidated his position as the darling of the Western world. A statue of his was erected in Vienna. Another statue erected later in Delhi’s National Stadium remains the only sculpture dedicated to a hockey player in independent India. His six goals against the Germans in the final were no less an achievement than Jesse Owen’s four gold medals in track and field. As Gulu Ezekiel wrote, ‘While on the track Jesse Owens exploded the many myths of Aryan superiority, which the Nazi forces had carefully propounded, on the hockey field Dhyan Chand created magic.’75 It was not without reason that the government of India issued a postage stamp in his honour and conferred on him one of India’s highest civilian distinctions, the Padma Bhushan, in 1956.

  After Berlin 1936, there was little doubt that the Indians would once again start their title defence as favourites in Tokyo four years later. Tokyo had won the vote to stage the Games of the Twelfth Olympiad by a margin of 36–27 against Helsinki, a product of careful and calculated exertion of political influence on the members of the IOC. Eventually, however, the outbreak of World War II meant there would be no Olympic Games until 1948 in London. There, the Indian hockey players presented their countrymen with a befitting independence gift—yet another Olympic hockey gold, which was made sweeter by a 4–0 victory over England. To this dream run we turn in the next chapter.

  5

  The ‘Nationals’ Game

  Hockey in the Life of Independent India

  (Sport is) a most pervasive and enduring theme in the history of British imperialism. The central feature of its power is the subconscious influence it has exerted in both colonial and post colonial conditions.

  —Brian Stoddart1

  When Nehru met me during the opening ceremony of the Bhakra Canal, he asked me, ‘Are you playing hockey? Do you play every day? Are your other colleagues also playing seriously? Are they all well and happy?’ He had asked me so many questions in one breath that all I could answer was ‘Yes, sir.’

  —Balbir Singh Senior2

  For a newly independent India, the London Olympic Games of 1948 was more than a mere sporting event. The event offered an opportunity for assertion and was a stage for a young nation to cement for itself a place in the world parliament of successful sporting nations. It was also a platform for an infant Indian nation-state to compete with its former master and give vent to years of frustration and discontent.

  The Indian hockey team satisfied this national yearning, in the process winning for itself its fourth straight Olympic gold, having already won top honours at Amsterdam in 1928, Los Angeles in 1932 and Berlin in 1936. The golden journey did not stop in 1948 but continued until 1964 with a brief silver interlude in 1960, when India had to cede top spot to arch rivals Pakistan.

  When the Indian hockey team won gold at the London Olympic hockey stadium in 1948, defeating the English 4–0 in the final, much more than an Olympic victory was scripted. It was a newly independent nation’s declaration against the forces of colonialism, retribution for humiliation meted out by the English for almost 200 years and finally a statement to the world about the significance of ‘sport’ in an era of de-colonization. Hockey, the victory demonstrated, held the promise of being the new opiate of the masses.

  Without exaggeration, it was a mirror in which communities were beginning to see themselves. It was at once a source of exhilaration, pride and national bonding. The sport, for many in the country, offered a substitute to religion as a source of emotive attachment and spiritual passion, and for many, since it was among the earliest of memorable post-independence experiences, it infiltrated memory, shaped enthusiasms and served fantasies.

  Though claims of hockey as the ‘national’ game of the country originated as far back as the turn of the century and gathered momentum after wins at Amsterdam, Los Angeles and Berlin, it was not until London that hockey’s supremacy was assured. Before 1948, both cricket and soccer enjoyed a similar popularity, and the question of which of these two would capture the Indian sporting heart in the immediate post-independence context was still unanswered.

  Also, at the time when the Indian hockey team was contesting for honours in London, the nation’s borders were set alight by the first war with neighbours Pakistan, the ‘unfinished agenda’ of Partition which was to lead to further wars in 1965, 1971 and continual tension since. Therefore, in the months before London, the Indians back home were firmly focused on the political crisis at hand and were hardly able to fathom the true scale of the nation’s achievement on the Olympic stage. Compared to the Games of 1928, 1932 and 1936, London 1948 offered a fundamentally different challenge for Indian hockey. More so, because the players, f
or the first time, weren’t representing British India but were playing for their motherland. This was the first time the Indians were playing for the new tricolour and against the British, under whose imperial flag they had participated in previous Games. The significance of this transformation is best borne out by the legendary Dhyan Chand. Writing in his autobiography, he declared: ‘I envy the 1948 Indian Olympic team to whom fell that honour (of meeting and defeating the English on the Olympic stage). How I wish I had at least been present to witness the historic occasion. But, like most of you, I was fated to be thousands of miles away at home listening to the radio and reading press reports.’3

  Also contributing to the significance of London 1948 was the prospect of the first India–Pakistan encounter. For India and Pakistan, it was natural that the political arena should shift to the sporting field, providing symbolic battlegrounds for national supremacy. As George Orwell put it: ‘Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, and disregard for all the rules’.4 Nationalistic sport, as is well known, is the most serious of all sport.

  That partition had altered the relationship between players who had once played together for India is evident from the following recollection by Balbir Singh Senior, India’s star performer at the London Games: ‘It was at the London Olympics that Pakistan made their first appearance. The Indian and Pakistani teams were billeted at different places. We first met at Wembley Stadium during the ceremonial opening of the games. Niaz Khan, A.I.S. Dara, Shah Rukh, Mehmood and Aziz saw us, but I was surprised to see that our old friends were deliberately keeping a distance from us. The openness of old was gone.’5

  Interestingly, this extreme communalization and politicization of sport was not unique to India–Pakistan or India–England, nor was it a state of affairs peculiar to the East. English imperialism, it is sometimes overlooked, was local before it was global. In sport, the resonances have been loud and long-lasting. Jeremy Black wrote in The British Seaborne Empire: ‘Naval power was important in the attempts by the English Crown to enforce imperial pretensions in the British Isles’.6 England’s first imperial territories were Ireland, Scotland and Wales. And England’s local empire has produced sporting ripples across, and beneath, the surface of its relationship with the Irish, Scots and Welsh on modern sports fields.

  Rugby football, for example, serves as an occidental political barometer. For all the intensity of the rivalry between the Celtic nations, England, for them, is the nation to defeat, and if possible, humble. Sport, as in the subcontinent, has helped sustain local resentments, insecurities and inferiorities. Nowhere is this residual animosity towards England as a nation more aggressively expressed than at Murrayfield, the national Scottish rugby stadium, and in the passionate rendering of the now official anthem of the Scottish Rugby Union, ‘The Flower of Scotland’—a lament for lost nationhood.

  This chapter, using contemporary reports and eyewitness accounts, attempts to recreate Indian hockey’s golden run in 1948–64, also focusing on how and why the Indian team was unexpectedly humbled by Pakistan in 1960. In doing so, it seeks to highlight the challenges confronting Indian hockey in an era dominated by concerns over agricultural development and industrialization in the country. It was an era when sport, understandably, took a backseat in the list of governmental priorities, making the golden run all the more spectacular. Finally, it turns its attention to Moscow 1980, the last occasion when India had the honour of hearing the national anthem play at the Olympics. Despite the anti-Communist boycott, which had taken some of the sheen off the Moscow Games, India’s gold medal winning effort will always constitute an important chapter in the story of the nation’s Olympic encounter.

  VICTORIOUS IN ENGLAND: LONDON, 1948

  In comparison to other competing nations, the Indian hockey team arrived in London fairly late, on 14 July 1948. The late arrival was occasioned by the fact that they had been engaged in a special training camp in Bombay, honing their skills for the tough challenge that awaited them in London.7 As part of the preparation, they played a series of practice games against leading domestic sides, matches that served as ideal training before the actual contest.

  Dhyan Chand had retired and so had many of the stalwarts from Berlin. This was in many ways a new Indian team. It had many of the strengths of its predecessors but also some frailties, which meant that its success could not be taken for granted. In the first of these matches, the Indian Olympic side defeated the Best of Bombay 2–0 while in the second encounter the Indians trounced a formidable Bombay XI 5–1. For the Indians, the star of the show was the vice-captain, K.D. Singh Babu. Writing about him, the hockey correspondent of the Times of India declared, ‘It is tempting to write that Babu is as elusive as Dhyan Chand, India’s Olympic wizard, but that would be an exaggeration. I am content to say that India is lucky to have such a brilliant forward in the team. If Babu could convince himself to part with the ball a little often, he would be a complete answer to any selector’s prayer’.8

  This victory was followed up by a win against an Anglo-Indian team at Madras, the margin of victory being a comfortable four goals to two. Interestingly, in this match the Anglo Indians led the Indian Olympic team 1–0 at half time. However, in the last 10 minutes of the game, ‘the Olympic side monopolized the play and registered three more goals, the goal getters being Glacken, Babu and Latif’.9 In the final preparatory match, the Indians got the better of a South Indian XI by four goals to one. Once again the Indians after being down 0–1 at half-time staged a brilliant recovery to win the contest comfortably in the end.10

  That the Indians did not leave anything to chance is evident from an interaction between the secretary of the Indian Gymkhana in London and Pankaj Gupta, the manager of the Indian Olympic team. Even before the Indians had reached London, Gupta, with the help of the secretary of the gymkhana, had reserved the No. 1 cricket ground of the gymkhana at Osterley as the practice ground for the Indian team. The significance of this effort was recorded by the Times of India: ‘Anybody who has knowledge of London and the Indian Gymkhana will realize that the No. 1 cricket ground at Osterley is a very good ground for hockey practice. (Here) the Indian hockey team will find everything laid on for them for their practice before the Olympic Games.’11

  Despite efforts at professionalism by the Indian team management, the selection of the team wasn’t free of the vices of regionalism. This explains the surprise omission of Leslie Woodcock, who was a strong contender for a berth, and Permual, the brilliant Maharashtrian left-back who had played very well in the trials.12

  The Indians flew to London by Air India’s Mogul Princess on 13 July 1948 and were received at the London airport by the chef de mission of the Indian contingent, Moinul Haq. Soon after, they were taken to their designated quarters at a camp in Richmond, some miles from London, where they were thrilled to know that Indian food had been arranged for them. The Times of India reported the satisfactory mood in the Indian camp thus, ‘The Indians have been getting not only Indian food in all its courses, but in plenty. The waiters are all Indian and most of them come from Bengal. In the dining hall typical India prevails—everything is Indian; the usual talking and shouting and heaps of food, chapattis, dal, vegetable curry, meat curry, Indian sweets and so on and so forth and at the end of a long meal each boy gets a bottle of milk. What a contrast to the experience of previous Indian teams that had visited foreign countries on similar mission(s)’.13

  It must be mentioned, however, that the Indians weren’t allowed to stay at the Richmond camp for the entire duration of their stay. A few days before the competition began, they were asked to move to an empty school in the north-west London suburb of Pinner. The Richmond camp, it was noted, was emptied to accommodate athletes from the advanced Western nations. In an attempt to conceal such discriminatory treatment, the organizers declared, ‘Many of the men moving out are feeling bitter but they should not. The position was explained to them when they came. Most of
the accommodation was booked long in advance by countries whose teams are arriving only a week or so before the games begin’. The Indian officials mounted a protest against such discriminatory treatment, which in turn contributed to hardening the determination of the Indian hockey team.14

  Indian ‘Sunshine’ in London:

  The Great Post-Colonial Showdown

  With Czechoslovakia, Poland and Hungary failing to submit their team entries to the Olympic Games Organizing Committee on time, a revised Olympic hockey itinerary was drawn up, with the participating teams divided into three pools. India was drawn in Pool A with Spain, Austria and Argentina. Great Britain was drawn in Pool B with Afghanistan, Switzerland and United States. Pool C constituted of Pakistan, Holland, France, Belgium and Denmark.15

  India started her campaign against Austria, winning comfortably by a margin of eight goals. Despite the big margin, the quality of play wasn’t of the highest standard expected from the Indians. This was remedied in the next encounter against Argentina. Despite a relatively softer turf compared to the match against the Austrians, the Indian forwards put on an exemplary display, defeating the Argentines by nine goals.16 This was followed by a hard fought two-goal victory against Spain, which propelled India to the semi-finals. While India was due to play the Dutch in the semi-finals, Pakistan had qualified from the other half of the draw and was to play the hosts, Great Britain. Even before the semi-finals were played, there was talk of a possible India–Pakistan final. Bruce Hamilton writing for the Times of India declared on 8 August that experts who had seen the teams in action in London had forecast an India–Pakistan final. He went on to suggest that India and Pakistan were the two outstanding teams of the competition not only because of their high scoring and margins of victory but also for their superior individual skills. ‘No other team can match them for the spectacular way they carry the ball down the wings, dodging opponents and flicking it from one to another or seizing every chance they get in the scoring area.’17