In his own writings, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi admitted his loyal allegiance to the imperial power. An extract from his immensely famous letter, ‘To Every Englishman in India’, says: “I have for an unbroken period of twenty-nine years of public life in the face of circumstances that might well have turned any other man into a rebel. I ask you to believe me when I tell you that my cooperation was not based on the fear of the punishments provided by your laws or any other selfish motives. It was free and voluntary cooperation based on the belief that the sum total of the activity of the British Government was for the benefit of India. I put my life in peril four times for the sake of the Empire, at the time of the Boer war when I was in charge of the Ambulance corps whose work was mentioned in General Buller’s dispatches, at the time of the Zulu revolt in Natal when I was in charge of a similar corps, at the time of the commencement of the late War when I raised an Ambulance corps and as a result of strenuous training had a severe attack of pleurisy, and lastly, in fulfilment of my promise to Lord Chelmsford at the War Conference in Delhi, I threw myself in such an active recruiting campaign in Kaira District involving long and trying marches, that I had an attack of dysentery, which proved almost fatal. I did all this in the full belief that acts such as mine must gain for my country an equal status in the Empire.”
The politician-cum-godman, reputed for delivery of unwarranted sermons, had always fought for principles that would have invariably won the applause of the colonisers. Why then would he not be greeted with black flags? Blessed were those young firebrand revolutionaries of Punjab who had the nerve and temerity to offer him black flags shortly after the murders of Bhagat Singh, Rajguru, and Sukhdev by the British.
Gandhi was nothing short of an epitome of a disharmony between words and deeds. Netaji had already gauged his true nature and, therefore, warned his Mejda, Sarat Chandra Bose, in a letter circa 1940, wherein he expressed his apprehension that if Bharat were to tread in abidance by Gandhi’s policy and tactics, the country’s security would suffer devastation of untold proportions. This piece of historical fact has been lately reiterated by Anuj Dhar in a few podcasts and interviews. Dhar also frequently cites a letter from Netaji to Rash Behari Bose, which yet again bears out Netaji’s real and very straightforward assessment of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.
The letter, comprising two full pages, available in German archives and written in plain English, speaks of a possible compromise between Gandhi and the British government as Netaji saw it. Gandhi, in Netaji’s opinion, would even pull out of a protest against the British if he were to make any. It is, therefore, in the interest of the nation at large to put forth the views of Netaji about Gandhi without subjecting them to any kind of tempering and moderation. There is a dire need for a similar revision of the assessment of Netaji’s equations with other towering personalities of his time from Jawaharlal Nehru to Veer Savarkar to Syama Prasad Mookerjee to Bidhan Chandra Roy.
There is yet another ridiculous myth of the Japanese colluding with the British to eliminate Netaji in the alleged Taipei air crash of August 1945. The daft arguments and concoctions put forward do not deserve a mention. But this outrageous conspiracy theory is extended to ostensibly prop another choice hypothesis of Gumnami Baba being a dummy planted as a subterfuge. There is no end to convenient canards getting readily appended to mainstream history.
Likewise, the fervid confidence in the air crash theory of its dyed-in-the-wool consumers defy earthly explanations suggesting either willful ignorance, vested interests, or a combination of both. Despite glaring discrepancies in eyewitness testimonies of the air crash, the lack of documentation around Netaji’s alleged demise, and the failure to provide definitive proof such as a clear photograph of his face, a large and influential group readily accepts the air crash narrative as “overwhelming and irrefutable evidence”.
Habibur Rahman, the prime witness who had supposedly accompanied Netaji in the bomber on that fateful journey, did not sustain any serious burn injuries. He carried burn marks on the dorsal side of his hands, which were consistent with burns caused by acid. Rahman claimed to get those burns in his alleged effort to save a burning Netaji. Despite being beleaguered by a set of strict interrogators, Rahman adhered to the story albeit giving out different accounts of it—pitted “with irreconcilable details”—on different occasions. He had all along betrayed enough signs of abiding by the injunctions of his master for whose sake he would lay down his own life, if that be ever needed. Also, Suresh Bose’s (Netaji’s elder brother) dissentient report detailing all the inconsistencies of the air crash report, published in two editions in 1956 and 1961 has been blatantly glossed over. The governments of the US, Great Britain, Japan, and even Taiwan could not find any conclusive evidence of Netaji’s death in the alleged air crash. The Taiwan government even declared to the effect that no plane had ever crashed in and around the said site in August 1945.
There are a plethora of facts contradicting the air crash theory, which readers can learn about by exploring Anuj Dhar’s books. In a nutshell, there is plentiful circumstantial evidence corroborating the fact that the plane crash story was planted as a smokescreen for Netaji’s safe passage to Soviet Russia. Netaji never survived a plane accident in Taiwan! The plane never even took off from the Taipei aerodrome, as the “Anami Sant” would later assert.
There was a time when the Netaji mystery and the Gumnami Baba (GB) theory became fairly popular. The mass responded to the evidentiary research done by the two aforementioned Netaji researchers. Many of us became convinced of every detail that they put forth in their books and Facebook posts. However, conversion didn’t happen on a large scale. People got intrigued only. They showed some interest but went back to their old, ill-founded notions of Netaji and his fate post-1945. When the epic 1982 biographical film, Gandhi, was made, one may take note of the fact that the makers had carefully and meticulously embellished all the facts about his life. They fulfilled their target of deifying him without even making their objective obvious. A similar thing should have been done in the case of Netaji by a top-notch filmmaker with a consummate precedence of filmmaking. The movie need not be a commercial hit but should verge on a documentary where no fictions find a space and on the contrary, certain records are set straight and even better, if subtle embellishments creep in.
Any attempt to make a Che Guevara out of Netaji for pandering to the “different” taste buds of the lumpen lot—even through the incorporation of songs and music that cannot be remotely identified with the persona of Netaji—must be consciously eschewed. Music scores need to be at par with Richard Attenborough’s classic film on Gandhi. The long and eventful life of Netaji can, however, be adequately presented in a web series—in a way far more impactful than a mere summarisation that can be effected via film adaptation—comprising of many, at least ten seasons and to be wound up within a maximum period of five years; each season having ten to fifteen episodes. This is to subject a blow-by-blow account of his life and work to translation into rich audio-visual content.
All crucial details from India’s Biggest Cover-up (by Anuj Dhar), Conundrum (by Anuj Dhar and Chandrachur Ghose), Bose: The Untold Story Of An Inconvenient Nationalist (by Chandrachur Ghose), and Netaji’s autobiography, An Indian Pilgrim: An Unfinished Autobiography, and writings must go into the adaptation. A hybrid style of storytelling may be adopted in an effort to connect with the audience, keep them engaged, relate to their emotions and their brains, and leave a memorable impression.
Let the series kick off with a linear narrative building on details as furnished in the biography by Chandrachur Ghose while also taking cues from Netaji’s own autobiography and other writings. Let the flow of the narrative reach the events culminating in Netaji’s disappearance in 1945. Tilak Dutta’s extremely thought-stimulating fictional work, A Tryst with Mahakaal: The Ghost Who Never Died, besides the books of Dhar and Ghose, would help in juxtaposing the fantastic with the real for bringing Netaji’s extraordinary story effervescently alive on celluloid.
We should acknowledge that Gandhi is a deity of higher stature than Netaji. Gandhi pops out every time Swami Vivekananda and Shrimad Bhagavad Gita are discussed. Every writer of such topics finds relief if Netaji isn’t mentioned in the discussion of the aforesaid topics—this author did mention this very annoying phenomenon in one of his Facebook posts. There’s nothing wrong with the worship of Netaji. Revere this great son of Bharatavarsha, we ought to. Just that he has to topple Gandhi from the latter’s position that the latter does not rightfully deserve.
Today, the majority of Bengalis follow an ideology that opposes the mainstream ideology of consolidation of our Sanatani roots. This ideology has its basis in a mix of Leftism and Abrahamism. Quite naturally, they tend to feel an instinctive disgust towards any issue that kind of finds the sympathy of their political and social adversaries. Besides, they have been for decades indoctrinated to hate Netaji for all along he has been projected as a symbol of the baneful nemesis of their cherished ideals. They hold Jyoti Basu and Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee in high esteem.
In fact, their current veneration of Saayoni Ghosh practically surpasses their adoration of Netaji. This is not a sweeping statement on an entire community but a factual portrayal of exactly how most members are inclined to behave. Netaji receives their selfish adoration in specific circumstances wherein he is used to ridicule, discredit, caricature, or demonise any individual associated with the saffron camp. Netaji finds a use in moral posturing only. The same lot can be found passing caustic, unfounded remarks on Netaji as regards a host of his political activities. They belittle the most pivotal role played by Netaji and the INA in compelling the White supremacists to begin their departure from the soil of Bharat in haste in August 1947 when in fact the onset of the British withdrawal had earlier been slated for June 1948.
No mention of the Royal Indian Navy mutiny of 1946 is made even in passing. Neither do they speak of the immensely complex process of the “transfer of power”—the actual process of British withdrawal had taken more than a decade to complete.
(To be continued)
The author is a teacher and freelance writer. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect News18’s views.