Author: Manohar Malgonkar
Publication: The Statesman
Date: February 10, 2003
By the end of September 1909, the
three-man team which was to murder the British collector of Nasik, Mr AMT
Jackson, had been primed and ready. They had received their revolvers and
tried them out at target practice. They were now waiting for the year to
end because their leader, Anna Karve, had been told by his astrologer that
1909 was not a good year for such assassinations. Ironically, it was Collector
Jackson who seemed to egg them on to action - advance the D-day for his
own murder.
In Nasik, Jackson had sought to
make out that he was totally impartial in carrying out his administrative
tasks. Sahib or native, white or black were the same to him. In the law
of the Empire, there was no discrimination.
Then something happened in Nasik
itself, in the club which was a "whites only" preserve, that made a mockery
of the boast: the empire's own white servants were not covered by its system
of justice. Mr Henry Williams, the Executive Engineer of Nasik was playing
a round of gold when a ball he had driven had soared away and rolled into
a cart-track that edged the course. Williams called out to the driver of
a passing cart to pick it up and throw it back. Perhaps the cartman did
not understand what the sahib wanted him to do. The fact is that he failed
to obey. And that was reason enough for Williams to run out on to the road,
seize the man and give him a savage beating. The golf caddies and a few
passers by saw what was happening. That same evening, the cartman died
of his injuries.
Some public spirited citizens of
Nasik decided to make an issue of it and filed a police complaint against
Williams. The case came up before Jackson for a hearing. He decided it
quickly. The verdict: "Not guilty".
No one was particularly surprised.
The verdict was all of a piece with the logic of the empire. An Englishman
could do no wrong. It must have infuriated the men who had decided to kill
Jackson, but did not prod them into precipitate action. It was Jackson
himself who seemed to be bent on trying their patience.
In this part of India, the Dussera
festival has martial overtones, for it was on this day that Maratha armies
traditionally took to the field on their annual campaigns. The main feature
of the Dussera celebration was a procession simulating an army setting
out for war, waving banners and singing martial songs. But since such demonstrations
were now thought to be "seditious", the Dussera processionists were compelled
to tone down their spirit. They sang songs which contained no rousing calls
or appealed to the martial instinct.
And the song that had emerged as
almost the tune of Dussera was Vande Mataram, an invocation of a land of
birth which did not contain a single word which might be construed as a
challenge to the Empire's presence, yet filled Indians with pride. But
Jackson was no fool. He knew that Vande Mataram, for all its sentimental
words, had been adopted by the "seditionists" of Bengal and Maharashtra
as a sort of national anthem. It appealed to a sense of unity among all
the people of the subcontinent and thus formed a threat to those who had
conquered India by promoting and supporting disunity.
Only a couple of days before Dussera,
Jackson promulgated an order banning the singing of Vande Mataram, or even
shouting the words of its title as a slogan, during the Dussera procession.
In the event, the police found it
difficult to enforce the order. The younger men in the procession took
up the cry only when they could see that the police were not in the vicinity
and stop shouting when the police came running. They made the policemen
run backwards and forwards and look stupid. Finally they arrested a few
of them at random and marched them off to the lock up. The next day, Jackson,
who was also the district magistrate, gave them all stiff jail terms.
Kanhere, the youngest member of
the team that had taken on the task of killing Jackson, absented himself
from school the next day to press upon their leader, Anna Karve, to let
him do it on his own. "We can't even salute our motherland", he complained.
"Jackson has lived too long". "We're already in October", Karve reminded
him. "Let's keep to our plan. Do it all together - early in January". And
with that Kanhere had to be content. Then, on 14 December, Karve called
his two colleagues for an urgent meeting. "We have to do it in the next
few days", he announced. "Before the 23rd!"
It turned out that the Collector
had been transferred, on promotion, too, as a Commissioner. He was handing
over to his successor on the 23rd, to be able to leave Nasik before Christmas.
"But I shan't be free till the 19th!" Anant Kanhere protested. "My exam
doesn't give over till the 18th!"
Who can rationalise the thought
processes of young men determined to become martyrs? All three were from
similar backgrounds, of impoverished Brahmin families who respected learning
and were scrupulous about observing the rules of middle- class morality.
They were going to commit murder, and they knew they would be given capital
punishments. Yet they all decided to wait until the 18th so that Anant
Kanhere would not have to skip his examination.
December 21, Jackson's last day
as collector, was also to be his last. He had agreed to attend a Marathi
play, Sharda, being enacted by the Kirloskar Drama group in Nasik's Vijayanand
theatre. It was a performance open to the public and thus tailor- made
for the murder-team.
The curtain had already gone up
and the overtures begun before Jackson's party arrived; he was accompanied
by another Englishman and two ladies. When those who were to receive Jackson
and escort him in left their seats to stand at the entrance, Anant Kanhere
too joined them. As Jackson was passing him, almost within touching range,
he whipped out his revolver and fired four shots. Then, with three rounds
still in his pocket, he gave himself up without resisting. Karve and Deshpande
too, even though they had not fired their revolvers, gave themselves up.
All three were carrying in their pockets written statements, saying: We
avenge death with death. This is punishment for the following crimes.
Prominent in Jackson's list of crimes
was that he had banned the song: Vande Mataram. Predictably enough, all
three were tried and sentenced to death. They were hanged in the yard of
Thana Jail on 20 April 1910.
(Concluded)