द इण्डियन स्ट्रगल / भारतीय स्वाधीनता संग्राम (नेताजी सुभाष चन्द्र बोस - ऐतिहासिक विश्लेषण)

THE STORM BREAKS 67
at Mani Bhuvan, the usual residence of the Mahatma in
Bombay, I was ushered into a room covered with Indian
carpets. Almost in the centre, facing the door, sat the
Mahatma surrounded by some of his closest followers. All
were clad in home-made Khadi. As I entered the room, I
felt somewhat out of place in my foreign costume and could
not help apologising for it. The Mahatma received me with
his characteristic hearty smile and soon put me at ease
and the conversation started at once. I desired to obtain a
clear understanding of the details—the successive stages—of
his plan, leading on step by step to the ultimate seizure of
power from the foreign bureaucracy. To that end I began to
heap question upon question and the Mahatma replied with
his habitual patience. There were three points which needed
elucidation. Firstly, how were the different activities con-
ducted by the Congress going to culminate in the last stage
of the campaign, namely, the non-payment of taxes? Secondly,
how could mere non-payment of taxes or civil disobedience
force the Government to retire from the field and leave us
with our freedom? Thirdly, how could the Mahatma promise
‘Swaraj’ (that is, Home Rule) within one year—as he had
been doing ever since the Nagpur Congress? His reply to the
first question satisfied me. The response to his appeal for
ten million members and ten million rupees having been
found to be satisfactory, he had proceeded to the next item
in his plan—namely, the boycott of foreign cloth and the
propagation of home-made Khadi. During the next few
months, his efforts would be concentrated on the Khadi
campaign. And he expected that the Government would
take the initiative in attacking the Congress, the moment it
realised that the peaceful constructive activities of the Congress
were proving to be successful. When the Government did
so, the time would come for disobeying governmental decrees
and marching to prison. The prisons would before long be
filled to overflowing and then would come the last stage of
the campaign—namely, the non-payment of taxes.
The Mahatma’s replies to the other two questions were
not convincing. I asked him if he expected that the boycott
movement would create so much distress in Lancashire that

68 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
pressure would be brought to bear on Parliament and the
Cabinet to make peace with India. But the Mahatma gave
me to understand that he did not consider that to be the
means whereby the Government would be forced to come to
terms with the Congress. What his real expectation was, I
was unable to understand. Either he. did not want to give
out all his secrets prematurely or he did not have a clear
conception of the tactics whereby the hands of the Govern-
ment could be forced.¹ Altogether, his reply to the second
question was disappointing and his reply to the third was
no better. What was to him a question of faith—namely, that
Swaraj would be won within one year—was by no means
clear to me and personally speaking, I was prepared to work
for a much longer period. However, I had no other course
but to feel thankful for what I had been able to learn after
an hour's conversation. But though I tried to persuade myself
at the time there must have been a lack of understanding on
my part, my reason told me clearly, again and again, that
there was a deplorable lack of clarity in the plan which the
Mahatma had formulated and that he himself did not have
a clear idea of the successive stages of the campaign which
would bring India to her cherished goal of freedom.
Depressed and disappointed as I was, what was I to do?
The Mahatma advised me to report myself to Deshbandhu
C. R. Das on reaching Calcutta. I had already written to the
latter from Cambridge that I had resigned the Indian Civil
Service and had decided to join the political movement.
Stories had reached us in England that he had given up his
princely career at the Bar and was going to devote his whole
time to political work, while making a gift of his entire
property to the nation. In my eagerness to meet this great
man, I overcame the somewhat depressing effect of my
interview with Mahatma Gandhi and I left Bombay with the
same excitement and the same enthusiasm with which I had
landed there. On reaching Calcutta, I went straight to the
house of Deshbandhu Das. Once again I was disappointed.
¹Looking back on the incident to-day, it strikes me that possibly the
Mahatma expected a 'change of heart' on the part of the British Govern-
ment, leading to an acceptance of India's national demands.

·THE STORM BREAKS 69
He was out on a long tour in the interior of the province and
I had no option but to wait for his return. When I heard
that he was back, I called again. He was out at the time
but I was received with great kindness and cordiality by his
wife, Srijukta Basanti Debi. Before long he arrived on the
scene. I can still picture before my mind's eye his massive
figure as he approached me. He was not the same Mr. Das
whom I had once approached for advice when he was one of
the leaders of the Calcutta Bar and I a student, expelled
from the University for political reasons. He was not the
same Mr. Das who was earning thousands in a day and
spending thousands in an hour. Though his house was no
longer a palace, he was however the same Mr. Das, who
had always been a friend of youth, could understand
their aspirations and sympathise with their sorrows. During
the course of our conversation I began to feel that here was
a man who knew what he was about—who could give all
that he had and who could demand from others all they
could give—a man to whom youthfulness was not a short-
coming but a virtue. By the time our conversation came to
an end my mind was made up. I felt that I had found a
leader and I meant to follow him.
On settling down in Calcutta I proceeded to take stock of
the situation in the country and particularly in the province
of Bengal. Throughout the country there was unparalleled
enthusiasm. The 'triple boycott' had been fairly successful.
Though the legislatures were not empty, no Congressmen
had gone there. The lawyers had on the whole made a good
response and the student community had come out of the
ordeal with flying colours.¹ The appeal for Congress members
and for funds had borne good fruit and feeling highly en-
couraged at the state of affairs, the Mahatma had launched
in July a campaign for the boycott of foreign cloth and the
revival of spinning and weaving. On the anniversary of the
death of Lokamanya Tilak, August 1st, 1934, there were huge
bonfires of foreign cloth all over the country. A symbolic
meaning was also given by the Congress leaders to these
¹ The people had taken up enthusiastically the propaganda for the re-
moval of untouchability and for the stoppage of the drink and drug traffic.

70 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
bonfires which were to burn to ashes all the dross, all the
dirt and all the weakness that was in the country. The
whole-hearted support of the Moslem community and the
novelty of the method of non-co-operation brought more
strength to the movement, while the slogan of 'Swaraj within
one year' drew into the field many people who would have
been appalled by the prospect of a long period of suffering.
In Bengal two important events took place—the Assam-
Bengal Railway Strike and the no-tax campaign in Midnapore
District. The railway strike paralysed completely all rail and
steamer traffic in East Bengal and Assam. The strike was
conducted under the leadership of the Bengal Congress
Committee and in the earlier stages it was so successful
that it made the people conscious of the power that they
could wield if only they could combine against the authorities.
As a timely settlement was not made, the strike dragged on
for a long period and it ultimately collapsed, bringing disaster
in its train. It was in connection with this strike that Mr.
J. M. Sengupta first came into prominence before the public
eye. The other event of importance was the no-tax campaign
in Midnapore District. In 1919 at the instance of Sir S. P.
Sinha (afterwards Lord Sinha), a member of the Execu-
tive Council of the Governor of Bengal, an Act had been
passed purporting to introduce a measure of Self-Government
for the villages—whereby union-boards would be established
for every group of villages in the province. There had been
considerable criticism of this measure mainly on two grounds
—firstly, the power that should be transferred to the villagers
was still retained in the hands of the district officials (for
instance, the power to appoint and dismiss village policemen)
and secondly, the establishment of union-boards entailed
additional taxation in return for which no advantages would
accrue. The Act provided that it was open to the Provincial
Government to introduce it in any district or withdraw it
therefrom. Under the leadership of Mr. B. N. Sasmal, an
advocate, the people of Midnapore started an agitation for the
withdrawal of the Act from their district and to strengthen
their demand, they refused to pay the taxes imposed by
the newly-established union-boards. The usual repressive

THE STORM BREAKS 71
measures were taken to force the new Act on the district.
Forcible seizure of property, harassment and prosecution
of the villagers, intimidation by military police and by
soldiers—all were tried but without success. The orgy of
repression continued throughout the year 1921, but the Act
had ultimately to be withdrawn in 1922. The success of this
no-tax campaign gave considerable strength and self-con-
fidence to the people of Midnapore and popularity to their
leader, Mr. B. N. Sasmal.
It is necessary to interrupt our narrative here and to refer
to the attitude adopted by the authorities in 1921. At first,
the Viceroy, Lord Chelmsford, did not take Mahatma Gandhi
seriously. In January, the Duke of Connaught, uncle of the
present King, visited India with the object of inaugurating
the new legislatures. His visit was boycotted by the Indian
National Congress and there were boycott demonstrations
wherever the Duke went. These demonstrations annoyed
the Government of India and their attitude of indifferent
neutrality began to change slowly. In April, Lord Chelmsford
was succeeded by Lord Reading, the brilliant ex-Lord Chief
Justice of England. Soon after his arrival, in the month of
May, an interview was arranged between him and Mahatma
Gandhi. At this interview, Lord Reading gave an assurance
to the Mahatma that he would not interfere with the work of
the Congress as long as there was no resort to violence. He
further stated that in a speech of his, Moulana Mohammed
Ali, the right-hand man of the Mahatma, had made an appeal
for resorting to violence and that the Government were
thinking of prosecuting him. The Mahatma promised to see
to it that the Moulana gave a public assurance that he would
eschew violence in every way and this promise was duly
carried out. Though there was nothing wrong or humiliating
in the whole affair, to the public eye it appeared as if both
the Mahatma and the Moulana had been outmanœuvred by
the astute Viceroy. Though the contemplated prosecution
of Moulana Mohammed Ali was dropped after this interview,
he and other Moslem leaders were arrested in September
for their participation in the Khalifat Conference at Karachi
in August and were sentenced to two years' 'rigorous im-

72 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
prisonment.' At this Conference, a resolution was passed
calling upon all Moslems to give up service under the Govern-
ment, whether in a civil or in a military capacity and this
constituted a breach of the law. After the conviction of the
Ali brothers and their associates, Mahatma Gandhi came
forward to take up the challenge. The same resolution was
signed and published by forty-six Congress leaders, and it
was repeated from a thousand platforms all over India.
But the Government did not make a single arrest and took
no notice of this defiance on the part of the Congress. In
September, the Indian Legislative Assembly—the Central
Parliament set up under the New Constitution—passed a
resolution urging an examination and revision of the con-
stitution earlier than 1929. No immediate reply to this came
from the side of the Government but the following year, the
Secretary of State for India, Lord Peel, in a dispatch on the
subject dated November 3rd, 1922, stated that it was too
early to contemplate a revision of the constitution.
From the above narrative it might appear as if throughout
1921 Mahatma Gandhi was riding on the crest of a wave and
had no obstacles to encounter. This impression is not alto-
gether correct. No doubt there was a tremendous volume of
mass opinion on his side—but so far as the intelligentsia were
concerned, there were certain elements opposed to him. In
the first place, the Indian Liberals were everywhere arrayed
against him and in most provinces, they had accepted office
as Ministers. This co-operation on the part of the Liberals
was the direct result of the efforts of Mr. Montagu, the
Secretary of State for India and as long as he remained in
office—that is, till March 1922—they were enthusiastically
in support of the Constitution. After his resignation from
the British Cabinet, reaction set in and Liberal leaders
began to feel that it was becoming increasingly difficult for
them to continue their co-operation. In April 1922, Sir Tej
Bahadur Sapru resigned from the Executive Council of the
Viceroy and in May 1923, Mr. Chintamani, Liberal leader of
the United Provinces, resigned the office of Minister of
Education in that province. Gradually the Liberals all turned
against the Government and by 1927 the change was so great

THE STORM BREAKS 73
that when the Simon Commission was appointed, Congress-
men and Liberals could preach boycott from the same
platform.
Closely allied with the Indian Liberals in mentality and
outlook were the University authorities who had been hard
hit by the Congress policy of boycott of educational institu-
tions. Though their influence had been drowned for the
time being by the rising tide of non-co-operation, they
continued to exert what influence they still possessed against
the Congress. In this effort they had the support of no less
a personality than India's illustrious poet, Dr. Rabindranath
Tagore. The poet arrived in Bombay from Europe about the
middle of July. As a matter of fact, I travelled in the same
boat with him. During our voyage, I had occasion to discuss
with him the new policy of non-co-operation adopted by the
Congress. He was by no means hostile to the idea. He was
only anxious that there should be more of constructive
activity, so that ultimately a state within the state could be
built up, entirely on the co-operation and support of the people.
What he suggested was analogous to the constructive side of
the Irish Sinn Fein movement and was completely in accord
with my views. But immediately after his arrival in India, he
was surrounded by a group of people who were opposed to the
Non-co-operation Movement and who began to point out to
him only the shortcomings of that movement—as well as the
personal views of the Mahatma on modern science and
modern medicine, which had no connection with the political
programme of the Congress. Under the impression that the
non-co-operation movement was aiming at a break with
Western science, culture and civilisation, the poet delivered
a forceful address in Calcutta under the caption 'Unity of
Culture' and roundly condemned any attempt to isolate
India from the culture and civilisation of the rest of the
world and deprecated the boycott of educational institutions.
Congress circles could not take this assault lying down but
it was impossible to find a literary man of the same standing
as the poet to reply to his attack. However, the premier
novelist of Bengal, Sarat Chandra Chatterji, ventured to give
a reply in an address on 'The Conflict of Cultures.' The

74 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
burden of his address was that though culture had a universal
basis, each country had its own specific culture which was
the creation of its national genius. India had to preserve
and develop her own culture and if in doing so, she had to
boycott the educational institutions which were under
British influence, there was nothing objectionable in it. An
attack from the poet was exceedingly unwelcome to the
Mahatma, particularly because they had been great friends ever
since the latter's return to India from South Africa. The
Mahatma had therefore to pay several visits to the poet in
order to pacify him. With the lapse of time the poet's opposi-
tion was completely disarmed and he became one of the
staunchest supporters of the Mahatma in his subsequent
campaigns.
While opposition to the Mahatma's policy of non-co-
operation came from the intellectuals, opposition to his cult
of non-violence came from another quarter—namely, the
Revolutionary Party. During the Great War, thousands of
revolutionaries had been imprisoned and most of them were
subsequently released as a result of the amnesty declared in
1919. Many of them did not approve of the doctrine of
non-retaliation which they apprehended would demoralise
the people and weaken their power of resistance. There was
a possibility that the ex-revolutionaries as a class would go
against the Congress owing to ideological differences. As a
matter of fact, a section of them had already started propa-
ganda in Bengal against the Non-co-operation Movement.
Strangely enough, funds had been provided by the British
Mercantile Community under the name of the Citizens'
Protection League. The money was distributed through the
medium of an Indian advocate who did not disclose the source
of the funds. Deshbandhu C. R. Das was anxious to disarm
the hostility of the ex-revolutionaries and if possible, to win
their active support for the Congress Campaign. He therefore
arranged a conference in September between them and the
Mahatma, at which he also was present. The ex-revolu-
tionaries had a heart-to-heart talk with the Mahatma and he
and the Deshbandhu tried to convince them that non-violent
non-co-operation, instead of weakening or demoralising the

THE STORM BREAKS 75
people, would strengthen their power of effective resistance.
The upshot of the conference was that all those present
promised to give a full chance to the Congress to strive for
Swaraj and promised to do nothing to hamper its work, while
many of them agreed to join the Congress organisation as
loyal and active members.
The conference between the Mahatma and the ex-revolu-
tionaries took place behind closed doors in September 1921,
when he and other members of the Congress Working Com-
mittee were staying as guests of Deshbandhu C. R. Das.
This was the first occasion when I had an opportunity of
coming into personal contact with the prominent leaders
of the Congress. Besides the Deshbandhu, the outstanding
personalities then were Pandit Motilal Nehru, Lala Lajpat
Rai and Moulana Mohammed Ali. It is difficult to say how
far the Mahatma would have succeeded in 1921 without their
active support. To realise the importance of Lalaji and Desh-
bandhu one has only to visualise the political situation in the
Punjab and in Bengal in their absence. And in 1921, Nehru
Junior (Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru) was not so well known or
experienced that he could have replaced his father. Besides
the influence which the first three leaders had in their own
provinces—their importance was also due to the fact that
they were the three outstanding intellectual stalwarts of the
Congress. Many of the blunders committed by the Mahatma
as a political leader could have been avoided if they had been
in a position to advise him. Since the death of these three
giants, the leadership of the Congress has fallen to a low
intellectual level. The Congress Working Committee to-day
is undoubtedly composed of some of the finest men of India
—men who have character and courage, patriotism and
sacrifice. But most of them have been chosen primarily
because of their 'blind' loyalty to the Mahatma—and there
are few among them who have the capacity to think for
themselves or the desire to speak out against the Mahatma
when he is likely to take a wrong step. In the circumstances,
the Congress Cabinet of to-day is a one-man show.
In 1921, besides the above three leaders, the Ali brothers
(Moulana Mohammed and Moulana Shaukat Ali) had a

76 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
unique position among the public. This was due partly to
their own activities and their suffering during the Great
War—partly to the new awakening among the Moslems—but
largely to the propaganda conducted in their favour by the
Mahatma. The Mahatma associated himself so closely with
them that they came to be looked upon as the right and the
left hand of the Mahatma. In their company the Mahatma
toured the country and one clearly remembers that in those
days whenever there was a popular shout of 'Victory to
Mahatma Gandhi' (Mahatma Gandhi Ki Jai), it would be
accompanied by a shout of 'Victory to the Ali brothers' (Ali
Bhai-o-Ki Jai). Though after some years the Ali brothers
parted company with the Mahatma, I do not think one could
find fault with the latter for his intimate association with
them. The real mistake in my opinion did not lie in con-
necting the Khilafat issue with the other national issues,
but in allowing the Khilafat Committee to be set up as an
independent organisation throughout the country, quite apart
from the Indian National Congress. The result of this was
that when later on Ghazi Mustafa Kemal Pasha, as the
leader of New Turkey, forced the Sultan to abdicate and
abolished the office of Khalifa altogether, the Khilafat question
lost all meaning and significance and the majority of the
members of the Khilafat organisations were absorbed by
sectarian, reactionary and pro-British Moslem organisations.
If no separate Khilafat Committees had been organised and
all Khilafatist Moslems had been persuaded to join the ranks
of the Indian National Congress, they would probably have
been absorbed by the latter when the Khilafat issue became
a dead one.
After the middle of the year, the political situation began
to grow tense. Neither the Government nor the Congress
knew at the time when the storm would break, but signs of
the coming clash began to appear in different parts of the
country. Throughout all these episodes the public took the
offensive and the Government played a defensive rôle
Reference has already been made to the no-tax campaign in
Midnapore District in Bengal and to the defiant conduct of
the Congress leaders after the incarceration of the Ali

THE STORM BREAKS 77
brothers in September, following the Khilafat Conference
at Karachi. Two other incidents are worth mentioning—the
‘Akali’ movement in the Punjab and the Moplah rebellion in
Malabar in the south. The Akalis were a section among the
Sikhs analogous to the Puritans among the Christians. They
wanted primarily to reform the administration of the Sikh
shrines or Gurudwaras. These shrines were mostly very rich
and were administered by a set of ‘Mohants,’ who though
required to act merely as trustees living an ascetic and abste-
mious life, generally lived a thoroughly disreputable life at the
public expense. The Akalis wanted to dispossess these
Mohants and bring the shrines under the administration of
popular committees. As always happens in an enslaved
country, the Government rallied to the support of the vested
interests—the Mohants. Thus a movement directed against
the Mohants soon developed into a movement against the
Government. The tactics of the Akalis were in keeping with
the Congress policy of non-violent non-co-operation and
consisted in sending ‘Jathas’ or groups of men and women
to take possession of the shrines. They were arrested and
put into prison or mercilessly beaten and forcibly dispersed.
This movement went on for a year till in November 1922 the
Government came to its senses and introduced legislation in
the Punjab Legislative Council to concede what the Akalis
had demanded from the beginning. The Moplahs of Malabar
were a section of the Moslem community. Their rising was
directed against the local Hindus; nevertheless it was also an
attack on the Government and as such, caused them con-
siderable anxiety and embarrassment. It has significance
also because it was the first incident to loosen Hindu-Moslem
unity.
In spite of these isolated phenomena of revolt, till November
1921 there was no sign of a country-wide conflict, far less of
the Swaraj promised ‘within one year.’ Congress circles were
therefore getting uneasy and depressed, when the Govern-
ment came to the rescue. An announcement was made that
the Prince of Wales would visit India and that he would
land in Bombay on November 17th. The motive behind
the visit was, of course, to assuage public feeling and rally

78 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
public support for the Government. The Congress Working
Committee promptly issued instructions for a boycott of the
Prince's visit. It was 'stated that, though the people had
nothing against the Prince personally, since he was coming
to strengthen the bureaucracy which they were engaged in
fighting, they had no option but to boycott his visit. As a
first step towards this boycott, a ‘hartal’ or boycott demonstra-
tion was called for November 17th, when there should be a
complete suspension of business all over the country. On
that day, the boycott demonstration in Bombay was not a
success. There was a clash between supporters of the
Government and those of the Congress which resulted in
prolonged rioting. But in Northern India, especially in
Calcutta, the demonstration was a unique success, due largely
to the wholehearted co-operation of the Khilafat organisa-
tions. So great was the success in Calcutta that the Anglo-
Indian papers, the Statesman and the Englishman, wrote the
next day that Congress volunteers had taken possession of the
city and the Government had abdicated and they demanded
immediate and drastic action against the Congress volunteers.
Within twenty-four hours, the Government of Bengal issued
a notification declaring them to be illegal. This was followed
by similar notifications in other parts of the country.
We had been spoiling for a fight in Calcutta and the official
notification therefore was thrice welcome to us. The general
opinion was in favour of an immediate reply to the official
challenge. But our leader, Deshbandu Das, was cautious.
He wanted time to take stock of his following in the province
and to consult Mahatma Gandhi and the Working Com-
mittee. Secret circulars were sent out at once to different parts
of the province for a report as to the measure of public
support that would be forthcoming if the Congress started
open defiance of the official ban. In less than a week encourag-
ing reports began to pour in from the districts. A meeting
of the Provincial Congress Committee of Bengal was there-
upon summoned behind closed doors towards the end of
November to decide our course of action. This committee
was a body of about 300 members representing the Congress
organisations of Bengal. By that time I had become a member

THE STORM BREAKS 79
of that body and I was able to participate in the deliberations.
It was unanimously decided to start civil disobedience and
in view of the state of emergency, all the powers of the com-
mittee were vested in its President, Deshbandhu Das—and
he was further authorised to nominate his successors. Thus
he was appointed the Congress Dictator for the Province—a
procedure which was to be followed subsequently all over
the country.
Contrary to the advice given by the younger hot-heads of
the party who wanted to commence with a big demonstration,
the leader decided to make a modest beginning. He wanted,
he said, to work up the movement slowly and restrict the
fight to a single clear issue. That issue was—would the
Government take action if batches of five volunteers went out
peacefully to hawk Khadi cloth—not in uniform as we had
suggested, but in mufti? If they did so, then the public
would regard the action of the Government as wholly arbitrary
and unjustified and all sections would then rally to the
support of the Congress. On this issue the fight began and I
was put in charge of the campaign. My work as the Principal
of the National College could not be continued and more so,
because the students and some members of the staff were
anxious to join the campaign. We issued an appeal for
volunteers who would go out to defy the official ban and
accept all the consequences. The response was discouraging.
Apparently the public were still lukewarm and some stimulus
was required to stir them up. The leader suggested that his
son and his wife should go out as volunteers in order to set an
example to others. We opposed the idea and especially on the
ground that no lady should be permitted to go out as long
as there was a single man left. But the leader was adamant in
his decision. So the next day young Das, who was about the
same age as myself—went out at the head of the volunteers
and was at once taken to prison.¹ There was an immediate
change in the atmosphere and more volunteers began to enlist
—but even that was not enough. So the turn came for Mrs.
¹ According to the rules of non-co-operation, a Congressman was required
not to put up a defence when brought up for trial before a British law
court. The prosecution therefore had an easy time and it would not
generally take more than a few minutes to dispose of the cases.

80 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
Das. Accompanied by her sister-in-law, Mrs. Urmila Devi
and another associate, Miss Suniti Devi, she went out at the
head of the volunteers. When the news spread in the city
that Mrs. Das and other ladies had been taken to prison, there
was wild excitement. In utter indignation young and old,
rich and poor began to pour in as volunteers. The authorities
were alarmed and they converted the city into an armed
camp. But our battle was half-won.
Indignation was not confined to the public but spread
within the ranks of the hitherto loyal police. At the police-
station, as Mrs. Das stepped into the prison-van, to be con-
veyed to prison, numbers of police constables came up to
her and vowed that they were going to resign their jobs the
same day. There was consternation in Government circles.
No one knew at the time how far the contagion would spread.
Orders were issued at once by Government that the pay of
police constables would be substantially increased. The same
evening at a dinner party in Government House there was a
sensation. Mr. S. N. Mullick, a leading Liberal politician
(who was afterwards a member of the Council of the Secretary
of State for India)—when he heard of Mrs. Das's arrest—left
Government House immediately as a protest. So tense was
the excitement that before midnight the Government had to
order the release of Mrs. Das and her associates, and the
public were given to understand that the arrests had been
made through a mistake. From the next day thousands of
students and factory-workers began to enlist as volunteers.
Within a few days the two big prisons in the city were filled
with political prisoners. Camp-prisons were then opened but
they too were filled in no time. The Government then
resorted to drastic action. Orders were issued for the arrest
of Deshbandu Das and his close associates, and by the evening
of December 10th we were all in prison.
But these arrests acted as a further stimulus and as more
people were arrested the prison-administration became more
unmanageable. Orders were given for the release of a large
number of political prisoners but no one would leave the
prison, and moreover, it was impossible to identify them.
Sometimes they would be taken to the prison office on the

THE STORM BREAKS 81
pretext of being transferred to some other prison or of being
interviewed by their relatives and there they would be set
free. When this trick was discovered, no prisoner would
leave his cell when called by a prison-official. Prisoners
were thereupon taken forcibly to the prison-gate and set
at liberty. Outside prison, tactics were changed. Arrests
were stopped and orders were given that sticks and batons
should be used freely by the police in dealing with crowds
and demonstrators. In some cases demonstrators were
removed in police-vans to out-of-the-way places thirty
miles from the city and there asked to walk back home. A
liberal use was also made of the hose in order to give the
demonstrators free cold baths in winter.
But it was clear to everybody that these makeshift arrange-
ments and tactics would not do. The situation was going out
of hand from the official point of view. The novelty of the
tactics employed by the Congress had non-plussed the
Government. They could of course have made a reckless and
ruthless use of force on a large scale to put down the movement
as they did subsequently, but they were embarrassed by the
presence of the Prince of Wales in India. The Prince of
Wales was due to arrive in Calcutta—the storm centre of the
1921 movement—on December 24th, and about a week before
that, the Viceroy, Lord Reading, arrived there. The members
of the Calcutta Bar had previously agreed to invite him to a
banquet, as he was ex-Lord Chief Justice of England. But
in view of the arrest of Deshbandhu Das, they cancelled the
engagement. The Government of India thus found themselves
in an exceedingly difficult position as they met with opposition
everywhere. In the first place, though the civil disobedience
movement was strongest in Bengal, it was fairly strong
throughout Upper India and no province was free from it.
In addition to this the Akali Movement in the Punjab, the
no-tax campaign in the Midnapore District in Bengal, and
the Moplah Rebellion in Malabar in South India inten-
sified the crisis. Outside India, the Sinn Fein Movement in
Ireland had been largely successful, a treaty with Great
Britain having been signed on December 6th, 1921. Some
months earlier, Afghanistan had entered into a treaty with
F

82 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
Mustafa Kemal Pasha and this was followed by a treaty
between Persia and Soviet Russia. In Egypt, the Nationalist
Wafd Party of Syed Zaghlul Pasha was strong and active.
Thus it was apparent that the entire Moslem world was
combining against Great Britain and this had an inevitable
reaction on the Moslems of India. In these circumstances it
was no surprise that the Government of Lord Reading should
be anxious for a settlement with the Congress. A peace-
maker was found in Pandit Madan Mohon Malaviya, the
veteran nationalist leader, who for reasons of his own, had
kept away from the 1921 movement. He came to interview
Deshbandhu Das in the Presidency Jail with a message from
the Viceroy. The offer that he brought was that if the Congress
agreed to call off the civil disobedience movement imme-
diately, so that the Prince's visit would not be boycotted by
the public, the Government would simultaneously withdraw
the notification declaring Congress volunteers illegal and
release all those who had been incarcerated thereunder. They
would further summon a Round Table Conference of the
representatives of the Government and the Congress to settle
the future constitution of India.
The leader had a long discussion with Moulana Abul Kalam
Azad, the outstanding Moslem leader of Calcutta and with
Pandit Malaviya. Some other points had to be decided,
including the question of the release of the Ali brothers and
their associates, who had been sentenced to two years' hard
labour at Karachi in September. On this point the official
reply was that since they had not been sentenced in connection
with the civil disobedience movement, the Congress should
not press for their release as a part of the terms of settlement.
But the Viceroy was prepared to give an assurance that they
would actually be released in due course. When Deshbandhu
Das broached the subject to us and asked for our opinion,
the younger section, including myself, vehemently opposed
the idea of an armistice on those terms. Thereupon he
entered into an elaborate discussion with us and advanced
the following arguments in support of his contention that a
compromise should be made at once. Rightly or wrongly, he
said, the Mahatma had promised Swaraj within one year.

THE STORM BREAKS 83
That year was drawing to a close: Barely a fortnight was left
and within this short period something had to be achieved
in order to save the face of the Congress and fulfil the
Mahatma’s promise regarding Swaraj. The offer of the Viceroy
had come to him as a godsend. If a settlement was made
before December 31st and all the political prisoners were
released, it would appear to the popular imagination as a
great triumph for the Congress. The Round Table Con-
ference might, or might not be a success, but if it failed and
the Government refused to concede the popular demands—
the Congress could resume the fight at any time and when
it did so, it would command greater prestige and public
confidence.
The above logic was irrefutable and I felt convinced.
Under the joint signatures of Deshbandhu Das and Moulana
A. K. Azad, a telegram was sent to Mahatma Gandhi recom-
mending for acceptance, the proposed terms of settlement.
A reply came to the effect that he insisted on the release of
the Ali brothers and their associates as a part of the terms of
settlement and also on an announcement regarding the date
and composition of the Round Table Conference. Unfor-
tunately, the Viceroy was not in a mood for any further
parleying and wanted an immediate decision. All that the
Deshbandhu could do in the circumstances was to send for
his friends who were then outside prison and urge upon them
that they should use all possible means to get the Mahatma
to agree. These friends did so and many telegrams passed
between Calcutta and Sabarmati, the usual residence of the
Mahatma near Ahmedabad. Ultimately the Mahatma did
come round, but by then it was too late. The Government of
India, tired of waiting, had changed their mind. The Desh-
bandhu was beside himself with anger and disgust. ‘The
chance of a lifetime, he said, had been lost.
The feeling among the political prisoners, as also among
the Congress rank and file, was that the Mahatma had com-
mitted a serious blunder. Only a minority, who had blind
faith in him, refused to pass any judgment. However, since
the opportunity had been lost, there was no option but to make
the best of a bad situation. The Deshbandhu had been

84 THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
elected President of the ensuing session of the Congress which
was to meet at Ahmedabad in the last week of December.
His half-written speech, which was a vindication of the prin-
ciples and methods of the non-co-operation movement, was
sent to the Congress and the presidential chair was filled,
in his absence, by Hakim Ajmal Khan, the outstanding
leader of Delhi. There was great enthusiasm at the Ahmeda-
bad Congress and the main resolution was one which called
upon the whole country to adopt a policy of individual and
mass civil disobedience. Every man and woman was exhorted
to join the National Volunteer Corps, defy the emergency
ordinances and court imprisonment. The Congress further
appointed the Mahatma as the Dictator for the whole country,
following the precedent of the Bengal Congress Committee,
who had appointed the Deshbandhu as the Dictator for the
province.
There was an interesting episode at the Ahmedabad Con-
gress. Moulana Hasrat Mohani, an influential Moslem
leader of the United Provinces, moved a resolution to the
effect that the goal of the Indian National Congress should
be defined in the constitution as the establishment of a
republic (the United States of India). So impassioned was his
eloquence and so responsive was the audience, that one felt
as if the resolution would be carried by a large majority.
But the Mahatma rose to oppose the resolution and with
great sobriety argued against the proposition, with the result
that it was thrown out by the house. The proposition was,
however, to be brought up over and over again at subsequent
Congresses till it was accepted at the Lahore Congress in
1929, the mover on that occasion being none other than the
Mahatma himself.
With the dissolution of the Congress, the year 1921 came to
an end. Nothing of a startling character happened on or
before December 31st. The promised Swaraj did not come.
A few months earlier, at the conference with the ex-revolu-
tionaries of Bengal, the Mahatma had said, that he was so
sure of getting Swaraj before the end of the year that he could
not conceive of himself as living beyond December 31st,
without having won Swaraj. He had further said that pro-

THE STORM BREAKS 85
vincial autonomy and diarchy in the Central Government he
could have for the mere asking, but he wanted full Dominion
status and if he had that, he would be prepared to unfurl the
Union Jack over his Ashrama. As the curtain was rung down
on December 31st, 1921, these words floated like dreams
before my mind's eye.
Before the end of the year, with the exception of Mahatma
Gandhi, all the other important leaders were in prison. As
a matter of fact at the time of the negotiations between the
Deshbandhu and the Viceroy, none of the outstanding intel-
lectual stalwarts was in a position to advise the Mahatma as
to the proper course for him to adopt. If they had done so,
then in all probability, events would have taken a different
course. There can of course be no doubt that within twelve
months the country had made tremendous progress and much
of the credit for that belonged to the Mahatma. But what
has to be regretted is that he did not show sufficient diplomacy
and prudence when the crucial hour arrived. In this con-
nection I am reminded of what the Deshbandhu used fre-
quently to say about the virtues and failings of Mahatma
Gandhi's leadership. According to him, the Mahatma opens
a campaign in a brilliant fashion; he works it up with unerring
skill; he moves from success to success till he reaches the
zenith of his campaign—but after that he loses his nerve and
begins to falter.
Before we close this chapter it would be desirable to take
stock of the year's achievements and failures. The year 1921
undoubtedly gave the country a highly-organised party-
organisation. Before that, the Congress was a constitutional
party and mainly a talking body. The Mahatma not only
gave it a new Constitution and a nation-wide basis—but what
is more important, converted it into a revolutionary organisa-
tion. The tricolour national flag—red,¹ green and white—
was adopted all over the country and assumed great im-
portance. Uniform slogans were repeated everywhere and a
uniform policy and ideology gained currency from one end
of India to the other. The English language lost its importance
and the Congress adopted Hindi (or Hindusthani) as the
¹ The colour red in the national flag has now been altered to saffron.

86 ' THE INDIAN STRUGGLE
lingua franca for the whole country. Spontaneously, Khadi
became the official uniform for all Congressmen. In short,
all the features of a modern political party became visible in
India. The credit for such achievements naturally belongs
to the leader of the movement—Mahatma Gandhi. He has
unfortunately been guilty of many serious blunders—‘Hima-
layan blunders,’ to use his own language. And the fact that
even to-day he is enthroned in the hearts of his countrymen
does not mean that he has been free from errors of judgment
but that his positive achievements have been really so great
that his countrymen are prepared to forgive his mistakes.
It is necessary, in this connection, to refer to some of the
shortcomings inherent in the movement from the very begin-
ning and which were to reveal themselves more and more
with the lapse of time. In the first place, too much power and
responsibility was handed over to one man. The disadvantages
of such a state of things were not so great, while Deshbandhu
C. R. Das, Lala Lajpat Rai and Pandit Motilal Nehru were
alive, since they could control the Mahatma to some extent.
But since their death the entire intellect of the Congress has
been mortgaged to one man and those who dare to think
freely and speak out openly are regarded by the Mahatma and
his disciples as heretics and treated as such. Secondly, the
promise of ‘Swaraj within one year’ was not only unwise but
childish. It made the Congress appear so foolish before all
reasonable men. No doubt the Mahatma’s disciples have tried
subsequently to explain away the point by saying that the
country did not fulfil the conditions and so Swaraj could not
be won within one year. The explanation is as unsatisfactory
as the original promise was unwise—because arguing in the
same way, any leader can say that if you fulfil certain con-
ditions you can be free in one hour. In making political
forecasts, no leader worth the name should impose impossible
conditions. He should estimate what conditions are likely to
be fulfilled and what results are likely to be achieved in a
given set of circumstances. Thirdly, the introduction of the
Khilafat question into Indian politics was unfortunate. As
has already been pointed out, if the Khilafatist Moslems had
not started a separate organisation but had joined the Indian