The Great War

by Rakhshanda Jalil

  A gramophone record, cut in Punjabi by Bhai Chhaila Patialewala and played on the new magic machine, became very popular. Bhai Chhaila was a popular singer of the time. It was one of the earliest recordings in India and certainly the first-ever army recruitment propaganda piece in the subcontinent. It would have been played in village fairs and recruitment gatherings.

  The recruits are at your doorstep.

  Here you eat dried roti

  There you’ll eat fruit

  Here you are in tatters

  There you’ll wear a suit

  Here you wear worn out shoes

  There you’ll wear boot(s)...

  At the outbreak of the First World War, one half of the Indian Army was drawn from Punjab. The idea that Indian troops were to fight against European foe on the western front had been used by civil authorities through rural men of influence. These men were religious leaders like Muslim pirs, the Bedis,2 rajas, nawabs, big landlords, district to village-level authorities like deputy commissioners, and so on. They were given quotas. The more they contributed the more rewards they got. There was much coercion used. My father used to tell me that the youth would hide from the authorities lest they be taken away, and during the war there were condolence calls in every other household. More than 60,000 Punjabis — Muslims, Sikhs and Hindus — were killed in action in the First World War.

  Table 1: Number of Indians Serving in All Areas of the War, 1914–1918

  Countries sent to Combatants Indian officers & warrant officers Combatants Indian other ranks Non-Combatants Total

  France 1,911 82,974 47,611 132,496

  East Africa 826 33,633 12,477 46,906

  Mesopotamia 7,812 287,753 293,152 588,717

  Egypt 1,889 94,596 19,674 116,159

  Gallipoli 90 3,003 1,335 4,428

  Salonika 31 3,643 1,264 4,938

  Aden 343 15,655 4,245 20,243

  Persian Gulf 615 17,537 11,305 29,457

  Total 13,517 538,794 391,003 943,344

  India Office Records: L/Mil/17/5/2383: Indian Contribution to the Great War, Calcutta 1923 (pp. 96–97)

  Every effort was made to bring home to the people that the war was their war — one for the ‘defence of their hearths and homes’. Throughout history, the Punjabis were exposed to invasions, so fighting Britain’s wars was not an unimaginable thought. The most effective of all inducements was the 180,000 acres of valuable, canal-irrigated land for allotment later to Indian officers and men who would serve with special distinction in the field.

  Some 15,000 acres were also set aside for reward grants to those who would give most effective help. In public durbars or meetings of various tribes and castes, O’Dwyer made the strongest appeal to their izzat or honour.

  The Indian National Congress, under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi, supported the British war efforts in the hope of attaining dominion status. He actively encouraged Indians to enlist in the army and contribute to the war fund. On the other hand, the Ghadar Party’s open call for non-cooperation and armed revolt against the British colonialists went unheeded. After the end of the war, Indians were paid back with the unpopular Rowlatt Act. The mass unrest against the act culminated in the massacre in Amritsar in 1919 and peaceful Sikh agitations in Jaitu and Guru ka Bagh during the early 1920s, followed by individual terrorist movements of the Babbar Akalis in the Doaba region of Jalandhar, Hoshiarpur and Kapurthala princely state.

  After the war, the rewards bestowed were numerous: titles of honour from raja and nawab to raisahib and khansahib, robes of honour, swords of honour, guns, revolvers, complimentary sanads (warrants or deeds), testimonials, cash rewards, grants of government land as well as revenue-free land to individuals and communities, and remission of taxation. Four lakh and twenty thousand acres of land were distributed among viceroy’s commissioned officers and other ranking officers.

  Over 40,000 people received jangi inam or war gratuities — special pensions for two lives, for the pensioner and the next generation after his death. One can imagine the economic and social impact of these awards in Punjab.

  At the beginning of the war, the strength of Punjabis in the army was 100,000. During the war, 380,000 more were added. Apart from men, Punjab gave rupees two crore [Rs 20 million] to war funds and ‘invested’ rupees ten crore [Rs 1 billion] in war loans. It set out to provide seven aeroplanes and provided more than seven times seven. In Punjab, one man in twenty-eight was mobilised in the war, while the corresponding figure for India was one in 150. Out of a population of 2.5 million, the Sikhs supplied 90,000 combatant recruits. During the war, one in fourteen of the Sikh population in Punjab served, a proportion ten times greater than that contributed by the population as a whole. The price was high: 61,041 dead, and 67,771 wounded.

  Lord Hardinge, the then Viceroy of India, wrote in his memoir: ‘Within six months of the outbreak of war, seven divisions of infantry and two divisions and two brigades of cavalry were sent from India overseas. But in addition to these organised forces, no less than twenty batteries of artillery and thirty-two battalions of British infantry, 1,000-strong and more were sent to England. Altogether 80,000 British officers and troops and 210,000 Indian officers and men were sent from India overseas during the first six months of the war… It is a fact that for several weeks before the arrival of some untrained Territorial battalions from England, the total British garrison in India, a country bigger than Europe… was reduced to less than 15,000 vigorous protests of the Commander-in-Chief and some of the European community, as I trusted the people of India in the great emergency that had arisen, and I told them so and my confidence was not misplaced.’

  Two World Wars and the partition of Punjab have been the most traumatic events for Punjabis. While folklorists have recorded a few folk songs on the World Wars, there is hardly any folksong on the Partition, maybe because of the collective sense of guilt. Historical records of tragic events can never reflect the suffering, pain and grief of people as folk song can, though the inadequacy of language remains even in a song. A folk song, unlike a propaganda piece, is least manipulated; it remains vulnerable even after lapses of time since it was conceived and sung to oneself or in a group of people.

  War is basically an armed conflict about power, which breeds destruction and death; its essence never changes, only its means do. Plato said: Only the dead have seen the end of war.

  The poetic creative process sets in only after the event has taken place. It is like a private journal sharing a collective fate. It documents human response in the face of a catastrophe. Every word uttered against war and for peace is a talisman of survival.

  A folk song by its nature is a collective pursuit of the toiling masses initiated by an individual. It is an epigram. It is rarely rhetorical; it is understated, subdued, truthful and honest. Folk songs are voiceovers of record of historical events. Now, the songs on the wars lie printed on paper. Nobody sings them. Nobody ever talks about them.

  The maximum number of men — 120,000 in all — were recruited from the Rawalpindi Division and the majority of them were Muslims. The Dhan-Pothohar region of the Division produced most of the folk songs on the two World Wars. There was hardly a household in Pothohar that was unaffected by them.

  In the songs, womenfolk — mothers, sisters and wives — are the protagonists. They show total frustration, despair, but a faint ray of hope keeps them alive. The wife persuades the man not to leave home for the front: Stay back, I promise, I’ll never go to see my parents. She taunts him for going to the job for a few bobs. She anticipates the pain of separation. [In every parting there is an image of death. Thus wrote George Eliot]. The protagonist in the folk songs curses the firangis for the suffering. She hates war and warmongers, whether the British or the Germans. She wishes and prays for the safe return of her man. Nowhere is there a hint of martyrdom in these songs. The women know their men are mercenaries and not fighters in the Sikh or Rajput or jihadi traditions.

  The man leaving is lost for words. No song s
hows the anguish of the father whose son has gone to the front. All available photographs of Indian soldiers in the British Army show stern faces with cold sad looks.

  It is not a coincidence that Punjabi poetry of the early 1950s Peace Movement greatly resembles, in form and content, the folk songs composed half-a-century earlier. In retrospect, it appears less genuine, as it was not experiential.

  Here are some Punjabi folk songs on the First World War, mostly referring to the Battle of Basra, translated in English. The French word l’arme is used for the war as lãm in common Punjabi parlance.

  My husband, and his two brothers

  All have gone to lãm

  Hearing the news of the war

  Leaves of trees got burnt

  War destroys towns and ports, it destroys huts

  I shed tears, come and speak to me

  All birds, all smiles have vanished

  And the boats sunk

  Graves devour our flesh and blood

  He wears a tusser shirt

  O train, move slowly

  You have a passenger bound for Basra

  The sand is hot in the cauldron

  Germany stop the war

  We do not need it

  Trees by the roadside

  Wicked Germany, stop the war

  There are widows in every household

  Potholes on the roads

  Poor people’s sons were killed in Basra.

  In the morning I saddled the horse

  For the Basra expedition

  Alas, I couldn’t talk to him to my heart’s content

  The string flew with the kite

  May God forgive me.

  Germany is on the offensive

  The English wouldn’t be able to do anything

  May God forgive me.

  Mothers’ sons have gone to the lãm in the foreign lands

  May Allah end the lãm, my children

  May the Five Souls of the Prophet’s family guard you

  May Allah bring you back home safe.

  Sources

  S. S. Bedi, Punjab da lok sahit (‘Folk Literature of the Punjab’),

  Navyug, 1968

  Avtar Singh Da-ler, Punjabi Lok Geet: Bantar te Vikas (‘Punjabi Folk Songs: Creation and Development’), New Book Company, 1971

  Alan Harfield, The Indian Army of the Empress, 1861-1903,

  Spellmount. 1990

  Mushtaq Kanwal, Bolian, Punjabi Publishers, Lahore, 1976

  Bhagwan Josh, Communist Movement in Punjab, Anupama, 1979

  Devendra Satyarthi, Punjabi Lokgeetan vich Sainik (‘The Soldier in Punjabi Folksongs’), Punjabi University, 1970

  Nahar Singh, Malwey de Tappey (‘Folk Epigrams of Malwa’), Akal Sahit Prakshan. 1985

  Nand Singh Havildar, Vadda Jung Europe, Gurdit Singh Gajjan

  Singh, Ludhiana, 1934 Reprint

  —Folksongs and poetry translated by the author with Amin Mughal and Naseer Sheikh.

  Notes:

  Censored letters written in Punjabi and Urdu by Punjabi soldiers from abroad during the First World War are kept in India Office Records in the British Library, London. File No. L/Mil/5/826.

  Van Koski, Susan, ‘Letters Home, 1915–1916: Punjabi Soldiers Reflect on War and Life in Europe and their Meanings for Home and Self,’ International Journal of Punjab Studies, Vol 2.1 (January-June 1995), SAGE: New Delhi, London.

  1 Presented at Across the Black Waters One-Day Symposium at the Imperial War Museum, London, on 7 November 1998; the South Asian Experience of the World Wars: New Evidence and New Approaches, International Workshop (Berlin), at German Historical Institute (London), 26 May 2009; Zentrum Moderne Orient (Centre for Modern Oriental Studies), Berlin, 28 May 2013; and SOAS (London), 14 September 2014.

  2 A sub-caste of the Khatris, they trace their lineage from Kush, the son of Lord Ram.

  Poetry

  The Gift of India1

  Sarojini Naidu

  Is there ought you need that my hands withhold,

  Rich gifts of raiment or grain or gold?

  Lo! I have flung to the East and West

  Priceless treasures torn from my breast,

  And yielded the sons of my stricken womb

  To the drum-beats of duty, the sabres of doom.

  Gathered like pearls in their alien graves

  Silent they sleep by the Persian waves,

  Scattered like shells on Egyptian sands,

  They lie with pale brows and brave, broken hands,

  They are strewn like blossoms mown down by chance

  On the blood-brown meadows of Flanders and France.

  Can ye measure the grief of the tears I weep

  Or compass the woe of the watch I keep?

  Or the pride that thrills thro’ my heart’s despair

  And the hope that comforts the anguish of prayer?

  And the far sad glorious vision I see

  Of the torn red banners of Victory?

  When the terror and the tumult of hate shall cease

  And life be refashioned on anvils of peace,

  And your love shall offer memorial thanks

  To the comrades who fought in your dauntless ranks,

  And you honour the deeds of the deathless ones,

  Remember the blood of thy martyred sons!

  1 Written in 1915.

  Jang-e Europe aur Hindustani1

  Shibli Nomani

  Ek German ne mujh se kaha az rah-e ghuroor

  ‘Asaan nahi hai fatah to dushwar bhi nahin

  Bartania ki fauj hai dus lakh se bhi kum

  Aur iss pe lutf yeh hai ke tayyar bhi nahin

  Baquii raha France to woh rind-e lam yazal

  Aain shanaas-e shewa-e paikaar bhi nahin’

  Maine kaha ghalat hai tera dawa-e ghuroor

  Diwana to nahi hai tu hoshiyar bhi nahin

  Hum log ahl-e Hind hain German se dus guneh

  Tukhko tameez-e andak-o bisiar bhi nahin

  Sunta raha woh ghaur se mera kalaam aur

  Phir woh kaha jo laiq-e izhaar bhi nahin

  ‘Iss saadgi pe kaun na mar jaaye ai Khuda

  Larhte hain aur haath mein talwar bhi nahin!’

  1 A warrant of arrest was issued against Shibli Nomani for writing this poem; however, he died on 18 November 1914 before the warrant could be implemented.

  The War in Europe

  and Indians1

  Shibli Nomani

  Consumed with pride, a German said to me:

  ‘Victory is not easy but it isn’t impossible either

  The army of Britannia is less than ten lakh

  And not even prepared on top of that

  As for France, they are a bunch of drunks

  And not even familiar with the art of warfare’

  I said your arrogant claim is all wrong

  If not mad you are certainly not wise

  We the people of Hind are ten times the Germans

  Cleary you cannot tell big from small

  He listened carefully to what I had to say

  Then he said something that can’t be described

  ‘By God, anyone will lay down their life for such simplicity

  You are willing to fight but without even a sword in your hand!’

  1 All works have been translated from the original by Rakshanda Jalil for this volume.

  Watan ka Raag1

  Brij Narain Chakbast

  Zamin Hind ki rutbe mein arsh-e-aala hai

  Yeh Home Rule ki ummid ka ujala hai

  Mrs Besant ne is aarzu ko paala hai

  Faqir qaum ke hain aur ye raag maala hai

  Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

  Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle

  Watan-parast shahidon ki khaak laenge

  Hum apni aankh ka surma usey banaenge

  Gharib maan ke liye dard-dukh uthaenge

  Yahi payam-e-wafa qaum ko sunaenge

  Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

  Na lein bahisht bh
i hum Home Rule ke badle

  Hamare waaste zanjir-o-tauq gahna hai

  Wafa ke shauq mein Gandhi ne jis ko pahna hai

  Samajh liya ki hamein ranj-o-dard sahna hai

  Magar zaban se kahenge wahi jo kahna hai

  Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

  Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle

  Pahnane waale agar bediyan pahnaenge

  Khushi se qaid ke goshe ko hum basaenge

  Jo santari dar-e-zindan ke bhi so jaenge

  Yeh raag gaa ke unhein niind se jagaenge

  Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

  Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle

  Zaban ko band kiya hai ye g.hafilon ko hai naaz

  Zara ragon men lahu ka bhi dekh lein andaz

  Rahega jaan ke hum-rah dil ka soz-o-gudaz

  Chita se aaegi marne ke baad yeh awaaz

  Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

  Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle

  Yahi dua hai watan ke shikasta halon ki

  Yahi umang javani ke naunihalon ki

  Jo rahnuma hai mohabbat pe mitne walon ki

  Humein qasam hai usi ke safed balon ki

  Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

  Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle

  Yahi payam hai koyal ka baagh ke andar

  Isi hawa mein hai Ganga ka zor aath-pahr

  Hilal-e-Eid ne dii hai yahi dilon ko khabar

  Pukarta hai Himala se abr uth uth kar

  Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

  Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle

  Basey hue hain mohabbat se jin ki qaum ke ghar

  Watan ka paas hai un ko suhag se badh kar