Savarkar the Catalyst

IN 1909, TWO extraordinary books were published by two of the greatest Indian freedom fighters, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi (1869-1948) and Vinayak Damodar Savarkar (1883-1966). What were these two books? And how did they give rise to two contrasting, sometimes conflicting, components of our freedom movement?

The two books were Savarkar’s The Indian War of Independence 1857 and Gandhi’s Hind Swaraj. There was something epochal in the composition and publication of both. Though originally composed in their native languages, Marathi and Gujarati respectively, both achieved fame largely in English translations. In fact, with respect to the former, the Marathi original is lost forever.

Savarkar’s manuscript was written in 1908, according to ‘The Story of this History’ that prefaces the 1947 edition of the book. Our source is the Asian Educational Services 2014 facsimile reprint of the handsomely printed and illustrated 1947 imprint of the book, published by Phoenix Publications, Bombay. The account of the fascinating, almost incredible, story of its publication is from this source, especially ‘The Story of this History ’ by GM Joshi (ix-xx).

Savarkar writing in Virendranath Chattopadhyaya’s revolutionary magazine Talwar, published from Paris, declared that he wrote The Indian War of Independence 1857 “to inspire his people with a burning desire to rise again and wage a second and a successful war to liberate their motherland.”

In other words, the rewriting of history was to serve the present cause of rising against British imperialism in India. That is why he “also expected that the history should serve to place before the revolutionists an outline of a programme of organisation and action to enable them to prepare the nation for a future war of liberation.” The latter, an outline or blueprint of revolution, is, however, not part of the book as we know it today.

Fifty years after the Great Revolt of 1857, Savarkar tried to recast the fateful, although failed uprising, from its standard imperial interpretation as the Sepoy or Indian Mutiny to the first Indian War of Independence. Working mostly from British sources in the India Office Library, Savarkar inaugurated a new era of nationalist historiography which combined facts with emotional appeal and revolutionary fervour.

Openly advocating armed rebellion to overthrow the British Empire would be treasonous and impossible in the repressive colonial regime. Savarkar, therefore, used the ruse of rewriting the events of 1857 to convey the message of “Swadharma and Swaraj”. Indeed, those words form the opening chapter of the book.

Savarkar, then enrolled in Gray’s Inn, was training to be a barrister. He knew that despite Britain’s fairly liberal intellectual climate and respect for freedom of speech, his book would certainly be considered seditious. He therefore kept its scrupulous authorship hidden. He wanted no incriminating evidence linking its incendiary contents to himself.

Only 25 when the book was written, Savarkar’s intellectual and literary acumen are revealed amply in its 552 pages. Apart from a scrupulous adherence to known facts and details, he fleshed out all the Indian characters, painting them in larger-than-life and heroic tints. More than historical accuracy, Savarkar was interested in what Nietzsche had termed “monumentalism” in his 1873 work, On the Use and Abuse of History for Life. His was a history in search of glory past directed to present sacrifice for the nation.

Parts of it were read out in English versions at the meetings of the Free India Society. British intelligence, no doubt supported by Indian informants who had penetrated into the Indian revolutionary circles, soon got wind of its contents. Some chapters were found missing. Savarkar had the entire Marathi text smuggled back to India. But no one would dare to publish the book back home.

Savarkar’s own Abhinav Bharat, his secret ‘terrorist’ society founded to free India, decided to undertake this onerous task. But multiple raids on possible printing presses in Bombay Presidency aborted these attempts. The manuscript was then secretly spirited back to Europe, to Paris, instead of London. The next idea was to publish it in Germany, where Sanskrit and Devanagari fonts were available. But German compositors, who didn’t know Marathi, made a mess of it.

Thereupon, Savarkar’s Abhinav Bharat Revolutionary Party, the counterpart of Abhinav Bharat in Europe, decided to undertake an English translation. This onerous task was accomplished under the supervision of VVS Aiyar. Aiyar, who was also at India House, was a wanted man. From France, he repatriated to Pondicherry, a French territory, to escape arrest in colonial India. Like Savarkar, he also inspired a major political assassination. One of Aiyar’s followers, Vanchinathan (1886-1911), popularly known as Vanchi, assassinated Robert Ashe, the district collector of Tirunelveli district on June 17, 1911. The incident took place at Maniyachchi railway station, which is today named the Vanchi Maniyachchi Junction railway station after him.

Openly advocating armed rebellion to overthrow the British empire would be treasonous and impossible in the repressive colonial regime. Savarkar, therefore, used the ruse of rewriting the events of 1857 to convey the message of ‘Swadharma and Swaraj’

Share this on

To return to Savarkar’s book, it proved difficult to publish the English version in England, France, or Germany. Word had already gone out and no one wanted to take the risk of publishing such a book. Instead, deliberately deceiving British intelligence agents, a copy of the manuscript was sent to Holland, where it was printed. When the British got wind of the news that the book was going to be published despite their best efforts to the contrary, they issued an order banning it.

Savarkar, according to Joshi, published a letter in the Times (London), protesting such an action by the government: “It is admitted by the authorities that they were not sure whether the manuscript had gone to print. If that is so, how does the Government know that the book is going to be so dangerously seditious as to get it proscribed before its publication, or even before it was printed?” If such a letter was indeed published, as Joshi claims, I have not been able to find it.

Adding to the mystery surrounding the origins of this book, the first edition was not even published under Savarkar’s name. The author is simply called “An Indian Nationalist”. The place of publication and date are given as London, 1909. There is no mention of Holland, nor is there a name or address or the printer. Though this edition is hard to find, a facsimile is available in Columbia University’s digital collections (shorturl.at/OUdhR).

It is a handsomely produced, clothbound in brownish crimson hardcover, a careful look at the book shows that it was accessioned on March 15, 1910. “Source unknown” is written in pencil beside the stamped date. None of these details can be found in the detailed ‘The Story of this History’ by GM Joshi.

Joshi says copies of The Indian War of Independence 1857 were wrapped in misleading book covers, such as Pickwick Papers, Scot’s Works, and Don Quixote. They were rustled into India in boxes which had false bottoms. One, apparently, smuggled in by none other than Sikandar Hayat Khan, later of the Unionist Party, who went on to become the chief minister of Punjab.

After Savarkar’s arrest in 1910, the book was published in the US by Gadar Party activists. The original Marathi manuscript, in the safekeeping of Madame Bhikaji Cama in Paris, was irretrievably lost after her death. The third edition was published in two parts in India by none other than Bhagat Singh himself. Rash Behari Bose, who founded the Indian National Army (INA), published the fifth edition in the 1940s. According to Joshi, portions of the book, translated into Tamil, were read by INA soldiers marching to liberate India under the leadership of Subhas Chandra Bose.

The Indian War of Independence 1857 is an extraordinary book. Though Savarkar is the flavour not only of the season but of the last decade, few people that I know, even ardent Savarkarites, have cared to return to his magnum opus. Instead, they consider the book as “already read”, so much a part of their psyche that they can ignore it all the while swearing by it and using it ideologically.

Such anti-intellectualism is the bane of our times. And yet, we would be vishvaguru to the world.

About The Author

Makarand R Paranjape

Makarand R Paranjape is an author and columnist. Views are personal.

•