A massacre that lives on

Mahesh Rangarajan 

Jallianwala Bagh is more than just a place and April 13, 1919, more than a day. It marked a turning point in our history as a people. It was the turning point in the freedom movement to emerge as a free people from the shadows of empire.

After this date, every nationalist worth her/his salt endorsed Mahatma Gandhi’s use of the term ‘Satanic’ to characterise the British rule.  It would be a bounden duty of all to recall the sacrifice of the martyrs, those unarmed Indians who fell to bullets in a closed space where there was no escape. 

The true moral lesson was to follow and honour their memory with further resistance. The British had forfeited any right or moral authority to rule.

Published a hundred years after the infamous massacre that marked the beginning of the end of Raj, this volume stands out for the richness of insight and the remarkable documents it brings to the reader. The Editor and The Tribune are to be complimented. 

The publication is rightly dedicated to Kalinath Roy, the veteran Editor who worked with the newspaper for 27 years and has his finest hour at the helm at this dark hour in the history of Punjab and of India.  It is only when placed in its wider context that the role of the newspaper and its courageous staff emerges as beacon for us even a century on.

The massacre itself had its backdrop in the coercive recruitment of troops and the forced loans in the years of the Great War, most so from 1916 onwards. When there were legitimate voices of dissent, the Rowlatt Act set the stage to muzzle them. 

The extracts from the pages of The Tribune are priceless. The editorial of March 21, 1919, was clear, “It is done. The bureaucracy has taken the final plunge”. The Rowlatt Satyagraha of April 6 called by Gandhi was hailed as a national protest. 

It was the pan-Indian mobilisation that brought together the Sikhs, Muslims and Hindus of the Punjab in a peaceful and resolute protest that set the stage for the repression that was to follow. The firing that killed not less than 378 persons and left over 1,000 wounded with no medical aid was not, as Churchill was to later insist, an isolated or unique event.

It was, and this emerged in the testimony of Brigadier General Reginald Dyer before the Hunter Commission and comments by Lt Governor Michael O’Dwyer, central to the idea of teaching Indians ‘a moral lesson’. Ruthless force aimed to instil fear: it achieved exactly the reverse.

Right through the Hunter Committee proceedings and in the Congress’ own inquiry committee the picture that emerged was one of a regime out to crush a people through unbridled force. It was here in Amritsar that the Congress session in December paid homage to the martyrs and pledged to continue the struggle.

The Tribune stood tall in these troubled times and even before the massacre. The title of the editorial speak for itself “Blazing indiscretion”.  Published on April 10, 1919, the then Editor Kalinath Ray explained at length how Sir Michael O’Dwyer’s attitude was unacceptable. The government was equating law-abiding and legitimate protest with disorder. 

Not only was the publication suspended and fined the then princely sum of Rs 2,000 but the Editor was jailed. His case went up to the Privy Council. He was unbowed and dignified, denying the charges of inaccurate reportage, showing how it was the government itself that was in violation of its own due procedures.

 The final act of the story was in May 1940 when Udham Singh, a patriot deeply influenced by the Ghadar Party’s revolutionary ideology shot Sir Michael O’Dwyer. He was tried and hung, and while Gandhi condemned the assassination, Udham Singh himself became a martyr in the cause of freedom. The book includes reports on how Giani Zail Singh as Chief Minister made special efforts to have the martyr’s ashes brought back with honour in 1974.

The book under review does more than bring together key reports and documents. The essays by scholars, notably Ramachandra Guha and M Rajivlochan, Navtej Sarna and Kishwar Desai provide depth and a sense of perspective. Eminent historian, Prof VN Datta, has contributed a deeply insightful essay on the logic and background of the massacre. There is an interview in extensio by fellow historian, Dr Nonica Datta, that is especially instructive. The veteran raises questions on how and why the massacre took place. These call for careful thought and further study. 

Befittingly, there is special emphasis on how the firing itself took place when martial law was not in force and without a senior civil official at the scene. The idea of ‘teaching a lesson’ was part of a larger unfolding tapestry of violent repression and is best seen against that backdrop.

In his seminal essay on the Rowlatt Satyagraha, the late Prof Ravinder Kumar had shown how Gandhi had an uncanny sense of the mood on the street as much as the weak spots of the imperial power structure. By bringing together a disarmed people via non-violent protests, he helped to more than forge unity. He helped conquer fear. Yet, no one was prepared for the horror not only of the massacre of April 13, 1919, but the equally indefensible attempts to justify or legitimise it. 

The Tribune, its journalists and the Tribune Trust have been second to none in the struggle to prevent any whitewash. Martyrdom to Freedom is a testament to their efforts. In doing so it is also a signal for our times. A nation that forgets its own history can hardly be worthy of a better future for its people. 

— The writer is a former Director, Nehru Memorial Museum and Library, New Delhi. He is professor of history and environmental studies at Ashoka University, Sonepat, Haryana