Savarkar

by Vikram Sampath

  Dhingra’s martyrdom and his soul-stirring statements were covered widely by the American, European and Irish press. While most of them honoured Dhingra’s courage and conduct during the trial, the New York Times editorial, entitled ‘British Complacency and Crime’, found fault with both India House and British nonchalance when it came to Indian students in London. It said:

  But other things were done at India House. Every week a secret society there whose members called themselves ‘The Destroyers.’ [sic] This society was formed to put into practice Mr Krishnavarma’s principles . . . ‘The Destroyers’ were so many kittens that must be kindly stroked and not restrained, it was said. They must be taught the error of their ways by tracts and editorial articles setting for the magnanimity of British rule in the mother country. 127

  Undeterred by criticism, the Indian revolutionaries in London, under Vinayak’s leadership, got pamphlets published titled ‘To the memory of our patriot Madan Lal Dhingra’:

  This day the morning of the 17th August 1909 will remain engraved in red letters in the heart of every Indian who loves his Motherland. This is the morning that our great patriot, our beloved Dhingra, is swinging to and fro with his sacred neck in the grip of execution ropes in Pentonville prison. His high soul is rising from his earthly body, giving more spirituality to the cause on whose altar he is sacrificed. This great patriot is no more with us in his earthly body, but in spirit he is with us, will remain with us, will guide us in the battle of freedom of our motherland, and his name written in the history of India will go down to posterity. The alien oppression of his Motherland he could not bear, and he decided to help the movement, which is engaged in freeing Her, by giving his life . . . ‘I told you that the English Court has no authority over me. I do not care for my life. You are all powerful. You can do what you like. But remember that one day we shall be powerful, and then we shall do what we like’—were his words when the English Judge, who must have been feeling demoralized in inner heart, told him that his life will be taken . . . and how our enemies have killed him! But let them remember that they will never, never succeed in suppressing or killing the movement. Moral force like gentle tides at the touch of storm sweeps away hills and lands. The act of a patriot comes like storm to the moral waves of human society, and sweeping away the barriers, leads the cause to success. 128

  The London newspaper, New Age , made a significant observation: ‘India in the future will regard him (Dhingra) as a hero with full responsibility. We say India will be right. Our own opinion must be put on record. It is the beginning of the end of British Rule in India.’ 129

  The Dhingra episode—the first daring act of political violence against the British, right on their home turf—sent shock waves across the world and back home in India. V.V.S. Aiyar’s articles in India , a Pondicherry weekly edited by Subramania Bharati, created a stir. Bharati also resigned from the daily in protest following ideological differences with the owners of the newspaper. Aiyar continued to contribute to the newspaper under various pseudonyms such as ‘Deshabhaktan’, ‘Bharata Sevakan’ and ‘Bharata Priyan’. There were articles about Dhingra’s trial, his last days in prison and the well-behaved convict that he was, and how he only read spiritual books in his last days. G.S. Khaparde, political activist, lawyer and Tilak’s close associate, who was in England between 1908 and 1910, gave interviews about Dhingra’s martyrdom and what it meant for the cause of freedom. In a conversation with W.S. Blunt, he said that if ‘India could produce 500 men as absolutely without fear, she would achieve her freedom . . . no great fortitude was ever shown by a martyr for any faith. With such men to love her, Mother India must succeed’. 130

  There had been trouble brewing between Shyamji and the young revolutionaries of India House for a while now. This became more intense following Dhingra’s martyrdom, especially because of Shyamji’s stoic silence after Curzon Wyllie’s assassination. It was ten days after the assassination that he broke his silence, after repeated entreaties by Vinayak and others. From Paris, he wrote a letter to The Times strongly condemning the search of the India House, but also hastened to add that he had never known or met Dhingra who had come to India House after his departure to Paris. However, Shyamji added:

  Although I have had absolutely no connection with the assassination in question, which according to the patriotic and courageous statement made last Saturday by Mr Dhingra in the course of the police court enquiry was committed entirely on political grounds, I frankly approve of the deed and regard its author as a martyr to the cause of Indian Independence. The name of Madanlal Dhingra will go down to posterity as that of one who sacrificed his life by remaining faithful to the altar of the ideal . . . his statement before the magistrate and his final declaration during the trial at the Old Bailey in London, conspicuous as they both are for their courage, truth, and patriotism, put him on the very highest plane among the liberated heroes in the world’s struggle for freedom. 131

  Curiously enough, in the July 1909 edition of the Indian Sociologist , Shyamji had mentioned that, ‘political assassination is not murder . . . we have the support of International Law according to which political offenders have not sinned against the morality of the universe but against the absurd laws of an antiquated political system, like the one now prevailing in India’. 132 The coincidence of the Curzon Wyllie murder happening in the same month as this long article justifying political assassinations, naturally pointed the needle of suspicion directly to Shyamji as the mastermind. In all fairness, given he had no knowledge of Vinayak and Dhingra’s plans, Shyamji thought it prudent to distance himself from the act, though not disagreeing with it in principle. This became a sore point for the young revolutionaries who felt let down by their mentor. This, despite the August 1909 edition of the Indian Sociologist heaping encomiums on Dhingra’s bravery and martyrdom, and pronouncing that, ‘the declaration of faith, as embodied in his statement and utterances . . . will no doubt be circulated among Indian Nationalists as a holy tract’. 133 Shyamji also announced four scholarships in Dhingra’s memory.

  Vinayak and his associates had strayed from the purely theoretical radicalism that Shyamji propounded. Shyamji’s contradictory stands on the issue of political violence and assassinations caused consternation among the revolutionaries. They were naturally ‘incensed and exasperated in an ever-increasing degree at the over-weening self-conceit and high pretensions of leadership that were implicit in Shyamaji’s writings’. 134 His attempts to control the young revolutionaries from Paris did not go down well with many of them, leading to several open, ugly arguments. Vinayak however stayed away from attacking Shyamji as it was the latter who had ‘installed him in the India House’ 135 and also enabled his education through the scholarship.

  However, a volatile young man like Virendranath Chattopadhyay had no such qualms. He wrote stinging indictments of Shyamji in The Times , saying, ‘He may call himself by whatever name he pleases but he is not in any sense of the word a Nationalist. He (Shyamji) has never been accepted as a leader even by a small minority in India, although during his seventeen years’ residence in this country he has striven hard by “patriotic gifts” to take part in a great movement that absolutely and categorically refuses his guidance.’ 136

  Vinayak’s many revolutionary associates were absolutely dismayed by the meticulous care that Shyamji took to disclaim personal connections with the revolutionaries, and yet give theoretical support to political assassinations. Chattopadhyay writes in another letter to The Times : ‘The day that I feel convinced of the necessity of political assassination and underground work I shall cease to write. I shall return to my country and put my theories into practice. But I shall certainly not seek a safe retreat within the hospitable walls of a European city. 137

  A year later, in April 1910, Chattopadhyay apologized and made up with Shyamji. Their relationship remained warm and cordial thereafter till Shyamji’s death in 1930.

  For publishing Shyamji’s views supporting Dhingra in
the July edition of the Indian Sociologist , the printer of the journal, Arthur Fletcher Horsley, was tried for sedition on the same day as Dhingra. Chief Justice Lord Alverston decreed that anyone writing or printing such seditious material in the future would be liable for prosecution. On 23 July, Horsley was also sentenced to four months’ imprisonment. Being a staunch advocate of free press, twenty-two-year-old Guy Aldred, a publisher and an avowed anarchist and supporter of revolutionaries, decided to defy this diktat. He published a long, bitter article attacking British imperialism and praised Dhingra and the other Indian revolutionaries in the August 1909 edition of the Indian Sociologist , in his own name. Among other things, he wrote:

  In the execution of Dhingra that cloak will be publicly worn, that secret language spoken, that solemn veil employed to conceal the sword of Imperialism by which we are sacrificed to the insatiable idol of modern despotism, whose ministers are Cromer, Curzon and Morley & Co. Murder—which they would represent to us as a horrible crime, when the murdered is a government flunkey—we see practised by them without repugnance or remorse when the murdered is a working man, a Nationalist patriot, an Egyptian fellaheen or half-starved victim of despotic society’s bloodlust . . . Why then should Dhingra be executed? Because he is not a time-serving executioner, but a Nationalist patriot, who, though his ideals are not their ideals, is worthy of the admiration of those workers at home, who have as little to gain from the lick-spittle crew of Imperialistic blood-sucking, capitalist parasites as what the Nationalists have in India. 138

  On 25 August 1909, Guy was picked up from his house at 35, Stanlake Road, Shepherd’s Bush. The police confiscated 369 copies of the August edition of the Indian Sociologist . Guy admitted to printing 1500 copies of which 1000 had been sent to Shyamji in Paris. The police also seized copies of correspondences between Shyamji and Guy. In a letter dated 28 July, Shyamji had commended Guy for displaying rare courage of conviction and that he ‘did not fear risk one bit’ 139 by undertaking to print the Indian Sociologist even after Horsley’s arrest. There was also a letter from Shyamji dated 10 August requesting Guy to ensure that the paper comes out at least a day or two before the fateful date of Dhingra’s execution, so that ‘the martyr should see in print’ 140 what Shyamji had said about him. Guy’s press itself was called Bakunin Press after the well-known Russian revolutionary. Guy was tried on 7 September at the sessions court and on 10 September, Justice Coleridge pronounced him guilty. He was convicted for resisting the laws in force in the British Indian Empire, raising discontent in the minds of native Indians against the king, and promoting the use of physical force, violence and disorder. He was sentenced to twelve months of rigorous imprisonment. 141

  The police, under Francis Powell, detective inspector of the Metropolitan Police, New Scotland Yard, also traced one James Tochatti who lived in Hammersmith in London. Tochatti was accused as Guy’s associate, and who had in his possession copies of the seditious Indian Sociologist . It was also revealed that Tochatti was preparing to publish the September edition of the magazine and the type too had been set for the same. Frank Kitz and five other men were assisting him in the process. The court ordered the rounding up of all the men involved. Thus, along with the Indian revolutionaries, several British and Irish men who supported the cause of Indian liberation and stood by the Indians also faced the brutal consequences of the law.

  The Dhingra episode echoed across different parts of the world for a long time. The newspaper, Vande Mataram , that Aurobindo Ghose and others were bringing out in Calcutta, was suppressed after the Alipore Bomb case. This was revived as The Bande Mataram—a Monthly Organ of Indian Independence by Madame Bhikaji Cama and Lala Har Dayal. The Indian revolutionaries in Paris had also started the ‘Paris India Society’. The very first issue of The Bande Mataram that was published in Geneva on 10 September 1909 was dedicated to Dhingra and his memory. In a tribute titled ‘Dhingra—the Immortal’, it said:

  Young India has produced another hero, whose words and deeds shall be cherished by the whole world for centuries to come. Dhingra’s declaration will be treasured in the archives of national and universal history as a precious heirloom for future generations. Dhingra has behaved at each stage of his trial like a hero of ancient times. He has reminded us of the history of Medieval Rajputs and Sikhs, who loved death like a bride. England thinks she has killed Dhingra: in reality, he lives forever and has given the death-blow to British sovereignty in India. Life immortal is his; who can take it away from him. All nations have watched Dhingra’s trial with bated breath, and have felt that New India is unconquerable because she can give birth to such heroic sons.

  The Indian patriotic party, which has declared War of the Knife with England has issued a manifesto, in the course of which it says: ‘Dhingra has found out the secret of Life; he has discovered the path of Immortality. He has realized the highest destiny of Man . . . he has lifted himself above the common run of men and joined the company of the saints and heroes.’ These words sum up the attitude of India towards our patriot-martyr.

  In time to come, when the British Empire in India shall have been reduced to ashes, Dhingra’s monument will adorn the squares of our chief towns, recalling to the memory of our children the noble life and the nobler death of him who laid down his life in a far-off land for the cause he loved so well. 142

  The inaugural issue of Talwar , started by Virendranath Chattopadhyay from Paris in November 1909, also paid rich tributes to Dhingra.

  But even though there was overwhelming support and appreciation for Dhingra in the months following his execution, there was an equal amount of condemnation of his act by several elements of the political spectrum. Leaders of the moderate wing of the Indian National Congress, quite like the eminent members of the Indian community of London, were deeply critical of Dhingra’s act. They believed that it decelerated the pace and tenor of the negotiations they had been having with the British for greater autonomy. Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was stinging in his criticism of Dhingra. He wrote:

  It is being said in defence of Sir Curzon Wyllie’s assassination that it is the British who are responsible for India’s ruin, and that, just as the British would kill every German if Germany invaded Britain, so too it is the right of any Indian to kill any Englishman. Every Indian should reflect thoughtfully on this murder. It has done India much harm; the deputation’s efforts have also received a setback. But that need not be taken into consideration. It is the ultimate result that we must think of. Mr Dhingra’s defence is inadmissible. In my view, he has acted like a coward. All the same, one can only pity the man. He was egged on to do this act by ill-digested reading of worthless writings. His defence of himself, too, appears to have been learnt by rote. It is those who incited him to this that deserve to be punished. In my view, Mr. Dhingra himself is innocent. The murder was committed in a state of intoxication. It is not merely wine or bhang that makes one drunk; a mad idea also can do so. That was the case with Mr. Dhingra. The analogy of Germans and Englishmen is fallacious. If the Germans were to invade [Britain], the British would kill only the invaders. They would not kill every German whom they met. Moreover, they would not kill an unsuspecting German, or Germans who are guests. If I kill someone in my own house without a warning—someone who has done me no harm—I cannot but be called a coward. There is an ancient custom among the Arabs that they would not kill anyone in their own house, even if the person be their enemy. They would kill him after he had left the house and after he had been given time to arm himself. Those who believe in violence would be brave men if they observe these rules when killing anyone. Otherwise, they must be looked upon as cowards. It may be said that what Mr. Dhingra did, publicly and knowing full well that he himself would have to die, argues courage of no mean order on his part. But as I have said above, men can do these things in a state of intoxication, and can also banish the fear of death. Whatever courage there is in this is the result of intoxication, not a quality of the man himself. A man’s own courage
consists in suffering deeply and over a long period. That alone is a brave act, which is preceded by careful reflection. I must say that those who believe and argue that such murders may do good to India are ignorant men indeed. No act of treachery can ever profit a nation. Even should the British leave in consequence of such murderous acts, who will rule in their place? The only answer is: the murderers. Who will then be happy? Is the Englishman bad because he is an Englishmen? Is it that everyone with an Indian skin is good? 143

  Despite the criticism of the revolutionary methods, it was no mere coincidence that on 15 November 1909 the government introduced the Indian Councils Act, popularly known as the Morley–Minto Reforms. It was way back in 1906 that Viceroy Lord Minto had prepared a minute arguing for a greater say of Indians in governance, given their rising education levels and awareness. Yet till the revolutionary movement caught steam and a spate of bombings and political assassinations shook both India and Britain, there was little progress on the reforms. Finally, the Act legitimized the election of Indians to various legislative councils across India for the first time. The reforms also granted the request of Muslim groups that had come together under the umbrella of the Muslim League, formed in 1906, demanding separate electorates for their community. This remained a bone of contention for a long time, till it spelt its ultimate disaster on the subcontinent.