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A song to die for-II

A song to die for-II

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)
 


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