Gandhi too was lodged in the same jail—in the cell adjacent to Vinayak’s—following the Civil Disobedience movement and his trial. Vinayak openly criticized the methods of the Mahatma, who heard about this from his followers in prison. There were several occasions when Vinayak had serious differences of opinion with those supporting non-cooperation, totally taken in by the ideals of truth and satyagraha.
He mentions in his memoir about how in Ratnagiri, like in the Andamans, political prisoners would procure scraps of newspapers and read them in stealth. Many of those in jail for participating in the Non-cooperation movement objected to this, as they believed hiding the truth was a sin. He did not let go of a single occasion to embarrass those who took Gandhi’s philosophy almost literally and to ridiculous extremes. One such follower was known to flatter the prison cook and get an extra piece of bread to eat. Once, during dinner, when the man had taken this extra piece and settled down to eat, Vinayak and his revolutionary friends raised a false alarm that the superintendent was coming for an inspection. The Gandhian quickly hid his extra piece of bread in fright. The entire group burst out laughing and mocked him. Did his adherence to truth permit him to pilfer? they asked. Another associate of the man responded that it was no violation of truth to stealthily eat an extra piece of bread because it was a basic human necessity to feed one’s stomach. But smuggling newspapers was a violation of truth and harmed the national cause, he hypothesized. Vinayak was often annoyed by these illogical arguments and writes in his memoir that this attitude was all too common among several of Gandhi’s followers and Khilafatists in jail. 8
Vinayak’s transfer to Yeravada coincided with the appointment of Major Murray as inspector of the jail. He had earlier served as superintendent of Cellular Jail and inspector general of prisons in the Punjab. He was a liberal man with a humane disposition. Murray appointed Vinayak as the head of the quinine factory at jail. He was permitted to conduct classes for young convicts and was also tasked with creating a library, like he had done in the Andamans. Vinayak continued with the shuddhi activities that he undertook at Cellular and Ratnagiri jails.
Despite pleas not to wake everyone in the prison with the loud call for namaz, several Muslim prisoners insisted on it as an integral feature of their faith. To counter this, under Vinayak’s leadership, many Hindu convicts began singing devotional songs and verses from the Ramayana at the top of their voice. If the prison authorities objected to such nuisance, Vinayak would promptly reply: ‘Why should you object to his prayer? Either stop all of them or let everyone be free to pray as he likes.’ 9 This eventually stopped the practice of the early morning calls to prayer at prison. As Vinayak writes:
One nuisance cancelled the other. What punishment could not stop, counter-goondaism had silenced. I silenced a Khilafatist editor-prisoner by a similar counter-move. He used to touch water for the Hindus on the plea that Muslims were as much human beings as they. I entirely agreed with him on the point and I called upon an untouchable and scavenger to dip his pot and take water from a vessel of water for the Muslims. And the Khilafatist who was preaching broad humanitarian principles at once went at the untouchable and would not touch the water as being unholy for the Namaz . When I had exposed them two or three times they quietly took their water from a [non-] Hindu water-carrier and stopped touching the water reserved for the Hindus. 10
Vinayak even organized lectures on various martyrs of the revolutionary struggle, including Madan Lal Dhingra, in order to inspire fellow convicts.
Around this time, the governor of Bombay, Sir George Lloyd, visited the prison to conduct an extended interview with Vinayak. The latter believed that this was yet another fruitless endeavour since the time he met Sir Reginald Craddock a decade ago in the Andamans. He candidly admitted to the governor:
I was compelled to be a revolutionary and a conspirator when I had discovered that there was no peaceful or constitutional method open to me to attain the goal I had in view. But if the present reforms prove to be useful for the furtherance of our hopes in a peaceful way, we shall very willingly turn to constitutional method and pursue gladly the constructive work on the principle of responsive cooperation. Revolutionaries, as we were described to be, our policy was as much of responsive cooperation as that of those who swore by other methods. We will utilize to the full the present reforms in pursuance of that principle and with a similar object in view. National good was our sole objective and if peaceful means served that end, we had no reason to cling to our old ways. 11
He was given a patient hearing after which the governor departed. Nothing was heard for months thereafter. But the Government of Bombay had begun discussing Vinayak’s release in earnest from 1922. The official opinion on this ranged from a disapproval of an early release to that with severe strictures that would limit or forbid his political activities. Another subject of concern for the government was the choice of his residence in the event of his conditional release. Given the sensitivity, the cities of Bombay, Poona and Nashik were overruled. In the end, the government seemed to be inclined towards releasing him from prison and allowing him to reside in confinement at Ratnagiri, with all political activities curtailed. This was the result of years of Narayanrao’s efforts to lobby support for his elder brother and secure his release.
Interestingly, an article published in the Marathi newspaper, Swatantrya , called for Vinayak’s release. Dated 13 September 1923 and titled, ‘Savarkar—the Champion of Liberty’, the author wrote:
It was Vinayak’s policy that alien power, be it British or Muhammadan, must be extirpated . . . O Maharashtra—Get Up! Raise up in your mind the principles of Vinayakrao!! O Janasthan [Nashik] get up! Vinayakrao is yours, so begin to exert yourself so that he must be released . . . But if Government does not release him we will blame them and resort to any available means of releasing him. 12
The concluding threat was least likely to have influenced the government’s decision and in any case would have possibly dissuaded them from releasing a man they had deemed dangerous for over a decade now.
Finally, on 4 January 1924, the Home Department of the Government of Bombay agreed on the conditions of Vinayak’s release. Alexander Montgomerie, secretary to the Home Department in Bombay, was to officiate these conditions. Interestingly, fourteen years ago, Montgomerie had served a brief term as the district magistrate of Nashik during Vinayak’s trial. He wrote:
In exercise of the power conferred by Section 401 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, 1898, the Government in Council hereby remits conditionally the unexpired portion of the sentences of transportation for life passed upon Vinayak Damodar Savarkar. The order for the conditional release of the convict should be sent to the Superintendent, Yeravda Central Prison, who should take an agreement from the convict accepting the conditions specified in the Order and forward it to Government, through the Inspector-General of Prisons, with a report that the convict has been released in pursuance of the order. 13
This was followed by a series of meetings between the government and Vinayak, who agreed to, and signed, the conditions of his release. The conditions were not too unusual; what was extraordinary was the duration for which they were imposed—a period of thirteen years, from 1924 to 1937. Initially, the conditions were placed for a five-year term, but they were subsequently extended twice. The conditions of release were:
That the said Vinayak Damodar Savarkar will reside within the territories administered by the Governor of Bombay in Council and within the Ratnagiri District within the said territories, and will not go beyond the limits of that district without the permission of Government or in case of urgency, of the District Magistrate.
That he will not engage publicly or privately in any manner of political activities without the consent of Government for a period of five years, such restriction being renewable at the discretion of Government at the expiry of the said term. 14
Vinayak understood the repercussions of his failure to adhere to the conditions of his release.
He writes: ‘Should I fail to fulfil those conditions or any portion of them . . . I may be arrested by any police officer without warrant, and remanded to undergo the unexpired portion of my original sentences.’ 15 If he committed offences that would warrant his remand, he would have to serve yet another term of imprisonment for at least twenty-five years more!
5 January 1924
It was the last night of Vinayak’s long and strenuous prison journey. He was, however, not told about it till the following morning. That night, little did he know that the next day he would be stretching himself on a ‘bed in a room with window all open to the light of the moon, and without any warder patrolling along the corridor’ 16 to disturb his sleep. The biting January cold was further accentuated by some unseasonal showers. Water had poured in from the cell’s upper window and his clothes were all wet. The two coarse blankets were hardly enough to protect him from the inhospitable weather. He willed himself to sleep, wondering how much longer this suffering would last.
The next morning, he was summoned to the superintendent’s office and conveyed the good news. He froze in utter disbelief. From March 1910, when he was imprisoned in London, he had been transported from jail to jail across continents. The reality that this was now coming to an end was hard to believe. The political prisoners exulted and congratulated him. The Sikh revolutionaries warmly embraced him and implored him not to forget them. With deep gratitude, Vinayak responded to their warmth before departing:
My brothers, you will surely bear me out when I say that, ground down under the sufferings as I was during the fourteen long years that I spent in the Andamans and even to the last day here, I have not flinched or retracted from what I was preaching all my life. I have given you the stories of all our martyrs and I have advised all along to hold firm by our creed of violent resistance if circumstances were to force it upon us. I have kept the flag flying. When I heard the sentence passed upon me fourteen years ago, the words dancing upon my lips were the same that are dancing upon them today. I uttered them then, I have uttered them during my long stay in prison, and they come forth from my mouth today, to be carved on your heart and mind, and to ring in your ears for good. Let us say all of us, ‘Glory to the Goddess of Freedom; Victory to our Mother.’ 17
Changing from his prison uniform, that had almost become a part of his being, to civilian clothes, Vinayak was overcome with mixed emotions—melancholy tinged with joy. Murray shook his hand and wished him well. ‘Take care of the future,’ he said. The large iron gates of the prison creaked open. Vinayak struggled to keep his eyes open in the bright sunlight. Outside, his family was waiting for him, joy writ large on their faces.
Vinayak’s long incarceration in prison might have ended, but the journey towards his cherished goal of liberating his motherland and actualizing his theories of Hindutva and social reform, which he had conceptualized within the confines of the prison, was just beginning. He took a deep breath, filling himself with the fragrance of free air, and with a spring in his step and plans for the future, Vinayak moved on to the next momentous milestone of his life.
APPENDICES
Appendix I
Full Text of ‘O! Martyrs’
The battle of freedom once begun
And handed down from sire to son
Though often lost is ever won!!
T oday is the 10th of May! It was on this day, that, in the ever-memorable year of 1857, the first campaign of the war of Independence was opened by you, oh martyrs, on the battlefields of India. The Motherland, awakened to the sense of her degrading slavery, unsheathed her sword, burst forth the shackles and struck the first blow for her liberty and for her honour. It was on this day that the war cry Maro Firungee Ko was raised by the throats of thousands. It was on this day that sepoys of Meerut having risen in a terrible uprising marched down to Delhi, saw the waters of the Jumna glittering in the sunshine, caught one of those historical monuments which close past epoch to introduce a new one, and had found, in a moment, a leader, a flag, and a cause, and converted the mutiny into a national and a religious war.
All honour be to you, oh Martyrs; for it was for the preservation of the honour of the race that you performed the fiery ordeal of a revolution, when the religious of the land were threatened with a forcible and sinister conversion, when the hypocrite threw off his friendly garb and stood up into the naked heinousness of a perfidious foe breaking treaties, smashing crowns forging chains, and mocking all the while our Merciful Mother for the very honesty with which she believed the pretensions of the white liar, then you, oh martyrs of 1857 awoke the Mother, inspired the Mother and for the honour of the Mother, rushed to the battlefield, terrible and tremendous, with the war cry Maro Firungee Ko on your lips, and with the sacred mantra ‘God and Hindustan’ on your banner! Well did you in rising! For otherwise although your blood might have been spared, yet the stigma of servility would have been the deeper, one more link would have been added to the cursed chain of demoralizing patience, and the world would have again contemptuously pointed to our nation saying ‘She deserves slavery, she is happy in slavery! For even in 1857, she did not raise even a finger to protect her interest and her honour!’
This day therefore, we dedicate, oh martyrs, to your inspiring memory! It was on this day that you raised a new flag to be upheld, you uttered a mission to be fulfilled, you saw a vision to be realized, you proclaimed a nation to be born!
We take up your cry, we revere your flag, we are determined to continue that fiery mission of ‘away with the foreigner’!, which you uttered, amidst the prophetic thunderings of the Revolutionary war—revolutionary, yes, it was a revolutionary war. For the war of 1857 shall not cease till the revolution arrives, striking slavery into dust, elevating liberty to the throne. Whenever a people rises for its freedom, whenever that seed of liberty gets germinated in the blood of its martyrs and whenever there remains at least one true son to avenge that blood of his fathers, there never can be an end to such a war as this. No, a Revolutionary war knows no truce save liberty or death! We, inspired by your memory, determine to continue the struggle you began in 1857, we refuse to acknowledge the armistice as a truce; we look upon the battles you fought as the battles of the first campaign—the defeat of which cannot be the defeat of the war. What? Shall the world say that India has accepted the defeat as a final one? That the blood of 1857 was shed in vain? That the sons of Ind betray their fathers’ vows? No, by Hindustan, no! The historical continuity of the Indian nation is not cut off. The war that began on the 10th of May of 1857, is not over on the 10th of May of 1908, nor shall it ever cease till a 10th of May to come, sees the destiny accomplished, sees the beautiful Ind crowned, either with the lustre of victory or with the halo of martyrdom.
But, O glorious martyrs, in this pious struggle of your sons, help! O help us by your inspiring presence! Torn in innumerable petty selves, we cannot realize the grand unity of the Mother. Whisper, then, unto us by what magic, you caught the secret of Union. How the Firungee Rule was shattered to pieces and the Swadeshi thrones were set up by the common consent of Hindus and Mahomedans. How, in the higher love of the Mother united the differences of castes and creeds, how the venerated and venerable Bahadur Shah prohibited the killing of cows throughout India, how Shrimant Nana Saheb, after the first salute of thundering cannon to the Emperor of Delhi—reserved for himself the second one! How you staggered the whole world by uniting under the banner of Mother and forced your enemies to say ‘Among the many lessons the Indian Mutiny conveys to the historian and administrator none is of greater importance than the warning that it is possible to have a revolution in which Brahmins and Shudras, Mahomedan and Hindu were united against us and that it is not safe to suppose that the peace and stability of our dominion in any great measure depends on the continent being inhibited by different races with different religious systems, for they mutually understand each other and respect and take a part in each other’s modes and ways and doings.’ Whisper unto us the nobility of such an
alliance of Religion with Patriotism—the true religion which ever is on the side of patriotism, the true patriotism, which secures the freedom of religion!
And give us the marvelous energy, daring and secrecy with which you organized the mighty volcano; show us the volcanic magma that underlie the green thin crust, on which the foe is to be kept lulled into a false security; tell us how the chapatti—that fiery cross of India, flew from village to village and from valley to valley, setting the whole intellect of the nation on fire by the very vagueness of its message and then let us hear the roaring thunder with which the volcano at last burst forth, with an all-shattering force, rushing, smashing, burning, and consuming into one continuous fiery flow of red hot lava flood! Within a month regiment after regiment, prince after prince, city after city, sepoys, police, zemindars, pundits, moulvis, the multiple-headed Revolution sounded its tocsin and temples and mosques resounded with the cry ‘Maro Firungee Ko!’ Away with the foreigners! Meerut rose, Delhi rose, rose Benares, Agra, Patna, Lucknow, Allahabad, Jadagerpoor, Jhansi, Banda, Indore,—from Peshawar to Calcutta and from the Narbada to the Himalayas, the volcano burst forth into a sudden, simultaneous and all-consuming conflagration!!
And then, oh martyrs, tell us the little as well as the great defects, which you found out in our people in that great experiment of yours. But above all, point out that most ruinous, nay the only material drawback in the body of the nation, which rendered all your efforts futile—the mean selfish blindness, which refuses to see its way to join the Nation’s cause. Say, that the only cause of the defeat of Hindustan was Hindustan herself; that shaking away the slumber of centuries the Mother rose to hit the foe but while her right hand was striking the Firungee dead, her left hand struck. Alas, not the enemy but her own forehead! So she staggered and fell back into an inevitable swoon of 50 years!
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