How the Nana became a freedom fighter.

The nationalist version.
Indian Mutiny, 1857.

A steel engraving of an imaginary sketch produced by the London Publishing Company in 1860 shows the Peshwa Nana Sahib in a howdah during the uprising of 1857. The description that accompanies the illustration reads: The Nana Sahib with his escort, leaving Lucknow to meet the rebel force arriving from Malwa.

Created by an illustrator whose name is now lost to memory, the engraving depicts the initial stages of the rebellion in the yesteryear region of Oudh and the sequence of historical events that followed is well documented and negates the need to engage in any additional guesswork.

After having arrived at Lucknow, the capital city of the erstwhile kingdom of Oudh, and meeting up with the financial commissioner, Martin Gubbins, the Nana had hurried on to Cawnpore to eventually besiege the military cantonment there and following the surrender and death of its commanding officer and his one time friend, Major General Hugh Wheeler, he had proclaimed himself Peshwa at his residence in Bithoor on the 30th of June 1857.

His rebellion and brief reign as Peshwa, bringing about two of the worst massacres of the Anglo-Indian community of British residents in India, for which he was later forced to flee to Nepal and into obscurity.

In India, where the uprising of 1857 is celebrated as the First War of Independence the Peshwa Nana Sahib is portrayed as a freedom fighter and hero of the rebellion.

Shorn of his human frailties and historical realities he is a noble Maratha chieftain who is forced to pick up the sword against the tyranny of the East India Company and not only a prominent leader of the planned rebellion but also a progenitor of the freedom movement of the nineteenth century -which in the Indian context happens to be an extension of 1857 and the second war of independence.

While to those familiar with the real character of the rebellion of 1857, this retelling may come across as a clear case of clever manipulation as there is enough evidence to prove the historical Nana was only partially the man he is made out to be, after India’s independence in 1947 it was this portrayal that gained immense popularity – albeit after having being promoted alongside the phrase that is the first war of Indian independence (see Farbound.Net story: A jumble of myth, history, narrative and nationalism).

Passed down from parents to children, mouths of public personalities, through debates, discussions and journalist columns, along with public works commemorating the Nana from as early as 1958, postage stamps since 1984, and his portrait gracing the interiors of important public offices and schools, the dramatized portrayal lifted the Nana from an opportunistic feudal chieftain of minor importance to the hallowed status of a celebrated national hero.

A privileged honour for which the Nana has no one else to thank but the Marathi stalwart Swatantryaveer Vinayak Damodar Savarkar, the political activist and Indian revolutionary who later was a prominent leader of the Hindu Mahasabha and the principal agent to formulate the nationalist philosophy of Hinduvata.

Rewriting history for the Indian freedom struggle.

One of the less talked about yet highly influential political activists of the Indian freedom movement and for a short while scandalized for his indictment in the assassination of Mohandas Gandhi in 1948, Savarkar was an educated Brahman from the town of Bhagupur, near Nasik in the state of Maharashtra, and venerated by those who held him in high esteem with the title “Veer” or “Brave”.

Between 1907-1909 Savarkar had cast the Nana as the central protagonist of his nationalist epic, The Indian War of Independence: A retelling of the 1857 mutiny that had inverted colonial-era British histographies to present the first Indian version of the rebellion as a nationalist war for freedom.

Savarkar’s motive behind rewriting the history of the Indian Mutiny was not to provide a historical study of the rebellion or to analyze the confusing events from new angles but created to serve a very political purpose and which was to essentially support the work of political agitators like himself who at the time taking advantage of the prevailing unrest in British India were persuading people to participate more in anti-British movements, and possibly just as the British had feared, incite another rebellion.

What exactly led Savarkar to cast the Nana as a freedom fighter can be understood by Savarkar’s idea of revolution, the period in which be produced the retelling and above all what the insurrection had meant to the ‘Raj’.

British fear of a second rebellion.

The time frame that had inspired Savarkar to create his nationalistic retelling was a turbulent phase in the history of British India. With mutual distrust and tensions running high between the British and Indians, much of it instigated by political activists, the ‘Raj’ had feared the outbreak of yet another rebellion as vicious as that had occurred in 1857.

This turmoil that had so clouded the years had originated in 1905 when under the Viceroyship of Lord George Nathaniel Curzon the colossal province of Bengal, measuring some 1,89,000 sq.miles in size and inhabited by approximately 78 million people, had been partitioned for better administrative and development purposes, yet produced an unforeseen and adverse reaction.

While the plans for this partition had been in the pipeline since 1832 and was not implemented with the devious intention of dividing and ruling the Hindu and Muslim sectors, as had then come to be criticized by the All India Congress National Party, and has now become a popular myth. It had nevertheless provoked a strong response from the Bengali Hindu community and subsequently brought about the radicalisation of Bengali nationalism.

Protests initially verbal and literary had gradually developed from mass meetings, demands of Swaraj (self-governance) and Swadeshi movements (boycott of foreign commodities) to outright extremism and terrorism by 1907.

Young Bengali students inspired by the works of Italian revolutionaries had formed “samities” or secret societies dedicated to instigating armed uprisings and bringing about a revolt in the British Indian army. This while other Bengali revolutionaries acquiring manuals and knowledge of bomb-making from European and Russian anarchist groups had taken to bombing and assassinations of British military and civilian targets.

The problems the ‘Raj’ experienced had further escalated when in addition to the troubles in Bengal and the recurring outbreaks of cholera, a severe plague and famine had devastated crops and claimed some 1.3 million lives alone in 1907.

Occurring during an ongoing phase of inflation and disruption in the revenue system, the natural disasters had added to the simmering discontent and growing distrust in the administration – with the groaning populace, burdened by hardships and hemmed in quarantine measures, at one point of time, even coming to blame the British for poisoning water sources and spreading the contagion.

Elsewhere, such as in the canal colonies of Punjab developed by the ‘Raj’ in 1885, bitter resentment against the Colonization Bill, introduced earlier in 1906, had stirred-up yet anther round of unrest as the tenant cultivators fed up with obligatory requirements, corrupt officials and increase in water rents had opposed the bill in en mass.

If these agitations had not been enough, Indian political activists had further aggravated matters. Using the old fear of beef and pork contamination in imported commodities such as in salt and sugar they had goaded more people to join the Swadeshi movements, that by now had flowed out of Bengal and into several more regions.

Then via the widespread distribution of pamphlets, mass meetings and organized protests burgeoned the agitations till violent riots had broken out in Rawalpindi, Lahore and Amritsar.

The mass participation of Hindus and Muslims in these riots had been of grave concern to the ‘Raj’ for if the British Indian Government had detested anything more than having to quell communal clashes, it was a communal union directed against it – especially in a region where it had traditionally enjoyed the loyalty of the populace and acquired 1/3 of all its army recruits.

What had ultimately spooked the ‘Raj’ was when some of these pamphlets in circulation had been found to be speaking to the native soldiers in the British Indian army, especially to those very Sikhs units that in 1857 had sided with European troops to curb the rebellion.

Additional rumours of political activists disguised as fakirs and sadhus infiltrating barracks and market places to incite rebellion among the native troops had been even more alarming but had what been positively frightening were reports of native soldiers themselves approaching noted revolutionaries ready to initiate a rebellion.

The impact of 1857 on British consciousness.

Why the ‘Raj’ had attached so much importance to 1857, in spite of this insurrection being one among a multitude to have occurred during the administration of the East India Company can perhaps best be understood by its firm conviction that the terrible event was a planned conspiracy, arranged in secrecy, and executed with ferocious cruelty to obliterate the Anglo-Indian communities as was evident in the barbaric and large scale massacre of civilians and officials alike.

Factors that at the time had provide the most logical support in favour of a planned conspiracy was the sudden outbreak of the insurrection itself, the near spontaneous revolts in different military cantonments, and the participation of local chieftains, peasants, landowners, Sowars and Sepoys hailing from both the Hindu and Muslim communities.

To which, colonial historians had been quick to also attach all kinds of rumours and mysterious happenings that had preceded or occurred during the insurrection such as the unexplained appearance of a ‘Fakir’ and ‘Chappati’ incident – which historian R.C. Majumdar, writing in 1958, had later revealed to have, in reality, vexed the British as well as the Indians and led them both to be suspicious of the other.

Historian and professor of global history, Kim A Wagner, whose research featured among the collective works of contemporary historians in the 11 book series Mutiny at the Margins and who is, possibly, the first historian to have explored the traumatic effect the insurrection had on the British in his book, The Great Fear of 1857: Rumours, conspiracies and the making of 1857, states that this fascination with conspiracies had not emerged from the mutiny of 1857 itself but was ingrained in the British psyche from much before.

In fact, explains Wagner, the notion of faceless conspirators and ringleaders, plotting in secrecy to bring about the downfall of powers and governments was a quintessential part of Western literature and history, and during the French and European revolution of 1848 it had received a boost in European minds with the fantastical portrayal of clandestine groups such as the Free Masons and the Illuminati – and thus when the Indian Mutiny had erupted some nine years later, the connection had been instantaneous.

The traumatic events of 1857 had a profound impact on the colonial psyche, and the spectre of the Indian Uprising haunted the British until the very last days of the Raj. If the colonial rule had been complacent before the Uprising, afterwards it verged on paranoia. Vague fears of indigenous conspiracies, seditious mendicants, and sinister signs thus permeated the colonial experience in British India after 1857 – Kim A Wagner

However, in relation to Indians and the Indian mutiny of 1857, the conspiracy theory had acquired and even more sinister character due to the perception the British had of the indigenous populace and which was the stereotype image of an oriental people capable of unspeakable treachery and cruelty.

This generalized description of Indians that had arisen out of factual and exaggerated reports of murders, killings, swindlings as well as, possibly, religious practices such as the custom of Sati, and most notably from the portrayal of the cult of Thuggees in both historical and fictional works, had received impetus during the mutiny itself when the once-loyal populace had suddenly risen up and delivered a devastating blow to British trust and confidence – and the eagerness with which some loyal hands had switched over to the rebellion, including those sincerely respected and well treated.

The Thuggees, in particular, had captured British imagination as an exotic and secret society of murderers and robbers worshipping the goddess Kali and following the bidding of the priestly class much like the Muslims who obeyed their prophets and declared Jihad.

This cult had come closest to the Western notions of clandestine societies, and several parallels had later been drawn between their activities and the proceedings of the mutiny – including the very notion that the religiously minded Sepoys of the Sowars of the Bengal army were incapable of acting on their own accord unless commanded by superiors such as Pandits or Fakirs.

The ‘Raj’ itself had not contested the conspiracy theory as it had provided the ground for a smoother recolonization of lost territories. Reasoning that by blaming a few sinister individuals to have misled the larger populace, it would help absolve masses, possibly improve relations between the communities and above all prove British rule was not oppressive but benelovent, it had rather favoured its insemination into history, literature and public discourse.

Yet the fear of a ‘doubly sinister oriental conspiracy’ had not dissipated in the fifty-odd years that had followed the brutal suppression of the mutiny in 1885-59. Thus in 1907-1908, when the turmoil had peaked in the region of Punjab, the Governor-General, Denzil Ibbetson, had sounded the alarm convinced another great rebellion was on the verge of breaking out.

In a letter addressed to Viceroy Minto, Ibbetson had revealed not his personal analysis of the situation but what was embedded in the national consciousness, by stating, and as Wagner points out, that the troubles were orchestrated by a secret society.

The trouble in the region was not caused by any real grievances, but was, according to Ibbetson, the work of radical extremists operating through secret societies. The riots and tampering of the troops were in fact directed by a ‘secret Committee’ of the revivalist Hindu organisation Arya Samaj, and the devious mastermind was allegedly the political agitator Lala Lajpat Rai, …

Kim A Wagner

India House counter activities.

If the prevailing agitations and the British fascination with 1857 can be said to have influenced Savarkar to pick for his retelling no other event in the history of British India but the mutiny of 1857, the role of India house is unquestionable for the inversion that he had ultimately produced. For it was here at India House in London that he had not only produced the retelling but also matured as a revolutionary.

Set-up by the intellectual and businessman, Shamaji Krishna Varma, inside a suburban Victorian-era building at Cromwell Avenue in North London, the India House was originally established, on the 1st of July 1905, as a boarding facility for students visiting England for higher studies.

After the announcement of the partition of Bengal on the 20th of July 1905, however, it had rapidly morphed into a political hub and engaged its acumen and resources in serious activism to counter British policies and laws – sometimes so aggressively, that the ‘Raj’ and the Scotland Yard, in particular, had defined it as a radical and extremist organization.

Initially headed by Shayamaji Krishna Varma and later by his protege Savarkar himself, the political outfit during the span of its operations at Highgate had gained an immense reputation for playing host to noted revolutionists and also for cultivating an atmosphere for nurturing revolutionary ideas and activities.

Though in its entire five-year span of existence from 1905 to 1910, the outfit had organized various kinds of political activities, its primary medium was its inhouse journal the ‘Indian Sociologist’ through which it had expressed political opinions, spread propaganda, denounced British policies and sometimes even criticized fellow Indian political activists.

As had occasioned in 1906 when Shayamaji himself, via the Indian Sociologist, had censured Mohandas Gandhi for his racial comments against the blacks of Africa and his stance on the Bambatha rebellion.

In spite of this criticism, Gandhi too had visited the India House, on the 20th of October 1906, and having resided there for a day praised Shamaji’s initiative and hospitality – albeit diverging ideologies and political friction had persuaded him to cut short his stay and shift into a hotel soon afterwards.

Historian and political analyst Vikram Sampath, who produced a biography on Savarkar titled ‘Echoes from the Forgotten Past 1884-1924’ writes of a supposed incident involving Savarkar and Gandhi that not only reveals a great deal about Savarkar’s idea of a revolution that stood in absolute contrast to Gandhi’s non-violence but also of the friction between the two.

Narrates Sampath, while no record is extant of an exclusive meeting or the experiences Savarkar and Gandhi had during the latter’s short stay at India House. Harindra Srivastava quotes the anecdote narrated to him by an eyewitness, Pandit Parmanandji of Jhansi as follows:

Vinayak was busy cooking his meal when Gandhi joined him to engage in a political discussion. Cutting him short, Vinayak asked him to first eat a meal with them. Gandhi was horrified to see the Chitpawan Brahmin eating Prawns and being a staunch vegetarian refused to partake. Vinayak apparently mocked him and retorted: Well if you cannot eat with us, how on earth are you going to work with us? Moreover…this is just boiled fish…while we want people who are ready to eat the British alive.

– Vikram Sampath, Senior Research Fellow, Nehru Memorial Museum and library.

For Savarkar, however, who had arrived in London in the first week of July 1906, three months prior to Gandhi’s visit, the India House had been both his home away from home and the school that had opened his mind to revolutionary tactics and activities.

Having made the overseas trip on a scholarship of 2,000 British Indian Rupees. Awarded to him by none other than Shamaji Krisha Verma on the recommendation of Lokmanya Tilak. Savarkar had flourished at Highgate right up till the Bharat Bhawan (as the India House was then known to the revolutionaries) had been sealed by Scotland Yard in 1910 – following the assassination of Sir Curzon Wyllie by engineering student and India House resident, Madan Lal Dhingra.

At India House Savarkar not only gained an invaluable understanding of revolutionary tactics from interaction with other residents and visiting leaders but more importantly from the complete works of acclaimed revolutionaries, one of whom was his long time hero, the Genoese political activist Giuseppe Mazzini.

Mazzini along with the Prime Minister Count Camillo de Cavour and the Italian general Giuseppe Garibaldi were noted for their role in changing the political situation in Italy between 1848-71, and their philosophies had a profound impact on the mind of Savarkar has he had settled down to study their works. But ultimately, and as it turned out later, it had been Giuseppe Mazzini who had produced the greatest impact.

From the collective works produced on the life of Savarkar by biographers and historians, it comes to the fore that Savarkar had taken up the study of the Indian mutiny sometime in 1907, as the tensions had begun to mount in the region of Punjab.

Kaye’s and Malleson’s epic.

From Savarkar’s own confession we know that among all the British histographies that he relied on to create his retelling of 1857, the most prominent was John Wiliam Kaye’s and Colonel George Bruce Malleson’s jointly authored historical epic, History of the Indian Mutiny.

This six-volume comprehensive digest produced in 1878 was at the time the most acclaimed and widely read documentation on the Indian Mutiny, and likewise, formed the foundation of dozens of other historical works, novels and literature to be produced in the fifty-odd years that had followed its suppression in 1858-59.

Although both Kaye and Malleson had done an incredible job in curating information and documentating the proceedings of the mutiny, their work, however, had come ingrained with the mistaken belief that the mutiny was a planned conspiracy.

Including all mysterious occurrences and rumours such as the appearance of Fakirs, the Chapatti incident and that of the greased cartridges, Malleson, in particular, had with conviction even proclaimed the Nana Saheb, the Rani of Jhansi and Ahmadulla of Faizabad as the main ringleaders.

In fact, Malleson had been so eager to implicate the Nana and other chiefs that in the ‘Indian Mutiny’, a follow up of the ‘History of the Indian Mutiny’, he claimed to have revisited India and arrived upon the same conclusion – this time attested by his native friends.

After the publication of that volume I again visited India, and renewed my inquiries among those of my native friends best qualified to arrive at a sound opinion as to the real origin of the Mutiny. The lapse of time had removed any restraints which might have fettered their freedom of speech, and they no longer hesitated to declare that, whilst the action of the Government of India, in Oudh and elsewhere, had undermined the loyalty of the sipahis, and prepared their minds for the conspirators, the conspirators themselves had used all the means in their power to foment the excitement. Those conspirators, they declared, were the Maulavi of Faizabad, the mouthpiece and agent of the discontented in Oudh ; Nana Sahib ; one or two great personages in Lakhnao ; the Rani of Jhansi ; and Kunwar Singh.

George Bruce Malleson -Indian Mutiny

George Bruce Malleson – The Indian Mutiny

In addition to Malleson’s ringleaders, the hasty march of the Meerut mutineers to Delhi, some 84 kilometres away, and their proclamation of Bhadur Shah Zafar as the emperor had implicated the ageing Zafar also as a prime participant – although like the rest of Malleson’s ringleaders, historically Zafar too had played no part in planning the mutiny.

Yet these and other unsubstantiated factors had still found their way into colonial histographies and in 1907-1909 provided Savarkar with all the material he had needed to create his nationalistic retelling to stir-up Indian patriotism.

Savarkar’s inversion of the mutiny.

Savarkar’s inversion was very likely inspired by the propensity of Indians at the time to think the opposite true of what the British said or did. A widespread behaviour Malleson, himself, had revealed of the Sepoys in 1857, and one that Savarkar would have definitely come across during his study of the historical epic.

While it cannot be deduced with certainty whether Savarkar actually believed in the opposite or simply took advantage of the Indian mindset, what is fairly certain is that his retelling for the same reason would have been an instant bestseller had it not been banned by the British-Indian Government in 1909.

Since Savarkar’s intention behind the creation of the retelling was to play on the paranoia of the British and inspire his fellow revolutionaries, possibly to incite another armed rebellion, his prime concern no doubt would have been to qualify his retelling as a real event and not a work of imagination – which it most certainly was.

Perhaps, it was with this concern in mind that he had simply copied every bit of information to be found in British historiographies and only inverted the relevance with an Indian or to more specific his own narrative.

Savarkar’s epic had everything British historiographies narrated and more. It followed the same chronological sequence of events. It had the conspiracy theory that so fascinated the British. It had the killings and the massacres. The rumours, the Persians, the Russians and the grease cartridges. Importantly, it had the same set of ringleaders – except in his retelling these ringleaders were freedom fighters and patriots.

Furthermore, if in British historiographies and novels, patriotism and sense of nationalism had glorified British commanders and soldiers, so had Savarkar also exaggerated and immortalized the patriots of 1857.

Savarkar’s Nana Saheb.

Thus Savarkar’s Nana Saheb was the natural byproduct of the inversion he had created and there exists the possibility that had British histographies highlighted any other person in place of the Nana as a prominent conspirator, Savarkar unhesitantly would have applied the same treatment.

However, the myth of the Nana was not Savarkar’s invention but that of Malleson. If to the British at the time the historical Nana was an archfiend detested for his role in the massacre of Anglo-Indians at Satighat, Bibighar and other stray killings of which he was most certainly responsible – it was Malleson who had turned him into a prominent ringleader of the rebellion just to prove the conspiracy theory that was so ingrained in the minds of the British.

Savarkar was deeply involved in the nationalistic circles based at India House in Highgate and took part in the counter celebrations during the anniversary years. His book was written in response to the British celebrations in 1907 and simply inverted the account of conspiracies so common to the colonial histographies that Savarkar consulted in the British library; Kaye’s and Malleson’s gallery of villains was thus turned into a memorial of national heroes

– Kim A Wagner

Likewise, it was this Nana Saheb that Savarkar had claimed from Malleson’s list of villains and transformed into a freedom fighter with his narrative that had been a mix of both western and Indian tropes.

Using the same pathological expressions Malleson had used to describe the mutiny and the Nana, Savarkar had created a hero who, as Wagner describes, had diagnosed the chronic symptoms of the terrible disease of slavery that was afflicting India in the shape of the East India Company, and realised that the sword was the only cure.

Though Savarkar’s Nana embodied Indian values and was a character Indians could relate with easily, the words he spoke was that of Savarkar himself, a bonafide patriot dedicated to the freedom movement of the nineteenth century. Relying on the character of Nana as his mouthpiece, it was Savarkar, in reality, who in 1909 had planned to inspire and motivate revolutionaries to carry on the fight for liberty and freedom.

After Savarkar’s brief indictment in the assassination of Gandhi in 1948 and his subsequent ostracization, much of his contributions were made to erode from public memory. His retelling none the less became for dozens of Indian writers what Kaye’s and Malleson’s History of the Indian Mutiny was once to British historians and authors.

The character sketch of the Nana that he created also became one of the most popular portraits of the minor chieftain who had only joined the insurrection after being threatened by the Sepoys at Cawnpore and whose only claim to fame was for the immense notoriety that he gained for the deaths of Anglo-Indian civilians.

Historically, while the Nana had reluctantly joined the rebellion to fight for freedom, it had been for a very selfish reason and in no way had he come close to planning a mutiny to liberate an entire country.