Elephants, Lord Ganesha and the Indian Independence Movement

Ganesh Festival, Bombay 1987

I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was 1987 and we had just arrived in Bombay (as it was then) around 5 weeks into my first sojourn into India.  By this point we were probably a slightly sorry looking and certainly grubby group of 3.  Goodness knows what the staff thought when we decided to ‘splash out’ and have tea in the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel (costing the equivalent of 50p each at the time I recall – which seemed extortionate compared to what we were used to paying).  I definitely felt very out of place among the other guests: women looking immaculate in beautiful shalwar kameez or saris in stark contrast to my very worn jeans and T-shirt.

Unplanned by us, we had arrived just in time for the annual Ganesha festival.  The streets were full of people dancing, throwing red powdered paint everywhere and statues of Ganesha being paraded down towards the beach.  Chowpatty beach was filled with people taking the clay Ganesha statues down to the sea, to float away and dissolve back into the water – symbolically representing the cycle of creation and destruction. So sad to think of that same location – including the Taj Mahal Hotel – in 2008 being the scene of an horrific terrorist attack, killing at least 167 people.

Elephants feature prominently in our household.  My son is mad about elephants - he insisted the website logo had to include an elephant.  Our house has many elephants but one large cuddly elephant called Peanuts (who made his way via Ikea) seems to dominate.  But woe betide anyone who says he is a cuddly and not a real elephant.  For Peanuts (my son loves stories and has a fertile imagination) eats millions of peanuts every day (and only peanuts) and robs banks all round the world to fund his peanut consumption.  He leaves his clone in place in the house while he is away so it looks as though he is still there.  Nothing I say can dissuade him from robbing banks (a criminal activity, very wrong, police will be onto him etc.) – surely the real cause of the world’s economic crisis.  Recently Peanuts pronounced himself King of Elephants – then decided he was not only King, but also the God of elephants, at which point I said I would call him Ganesha since there is only one elephant God.  Such is the rich imaginary world of life with a 12 year old.

Last Saturday we decided to make use of Susen’s British Museum membership and have a look at the Viking exhibition currently on.  The exhibition was busy and we were given timed tickets, with 20 minutes to wait.  After our thali lunch at Masala Zone, it was perfect timing to have a look round the small (free) Ganesha exhibition that was also on.

Rather frustratingly, the exhibition had been sponsored by the Japanese Asahi Shimbun Company (a major national newspaper in Japan), instead of Indian sponsorship – which seemed slightly incongruous.  There were several images of Ganesha including one contemporary picture of Ganesha with a cricket bat - which made me smile, also a shrine to Ganesha and a short video about the manufacture of statues of Ganesha.  To the uninitiated, I have to say it does seem quite bizarre worshipping an elephant God – not to mention a clay statue of an elephant God.  Through my own medium of Buddhism, however, I can relate to it in terms of what that figure is representing.  So a Buddhist might bow down before a rupa or statue of a Buddha, symbolising the aspiration or worship of the ideal of Enlightenment.  In the same way, Ganesha in Hinduism is said to represent wisdom and the remover or creator of obstacles and this is what is worshipped.

The video showing the hand crafting of the statues was fascinating.  First a mould has to be made by covering a statue with latex.  This mould once dry is then filled (by hand it seems) with a mixture of clay and a straw-like material.  When set, the latex mould is removed and the idol is then painted by hand[1].

The exhibition also featured a section on Bal Gangadhar Tilak – also known as  Lokamanya Tilak – an Indian Nationalist Leader.   Born in 1856 in British India, as it was then, he was a journalist, social reformer, lawyer and early prominent leader and activist for Indian Independence.  It was Tilak who started the worship of Ganesha as a public festival – known as Ganesh Chaturthi.  The British had banned Indians holding large gatherings for political purposes, with an exception for religious festivals.  By promoting the worship of Lord Ganesha at a well-organised public event Lokamanya Tilak could bring people together and promote nationalism under the guise of a religious festival – a festival still celebrated long after India gained its independence.

Time then for the Vikings and a whole different story – and one that almost certainly made up some of my ancestry - with family roots in Scotland, North of England and Denmark.  Then a cup of tea and home.

---

[1] This hand crafting has, apparently, been overtaken in some parts by a more mass production of idols using Plaster of Paris, leading to environment problems.  Heavy metals used in the production were leading to water contamination, together with accumulation on the sea or river bed of non-biodegradable parts of the statue.  The local authorities have been trying to encourage original clay moulds only, or non-destructible statues that are only symbolically immersed in water and then re-used.

The Indian Army in World War 1 – National Army Museum

[caption id="attachment_1200" align="alignleft" width="300"] The Indian Memorial at Neuve Chapelle.
(See end of post for photo attribution)[/caption]

Sometimes it’s very easy to forget that I live in one of the world’s great cities. Some of our activities from movies, to theatre to restaurants have been reviewed on these “pages”. This week I went to two lectures which were outstanding and made me grateful to be a resident of London; firstly, Professor Timothy Snyder gave a lecture at the LSE on the Origins of the Final Solution, and secondly, Professor Sean McMeekin at Pushkin House lectured on Russia in the World War 1 (WW1). Snyder’s lecture is available as a podcast (http://www.lse.ac.uk/IDEAS/events/events/2014/14-03-11-Snyders-.aspx) and I would urge you to watch for his ability to marshal the facts and for the sheer quality of his analysis. McMeekin was good too, but it was his misfortunate that I heard him the day after Snyder. If it was intended that such lectures boost the authors’ marketing and sales efforts then in my case the strategy succeeded for their books are now waiting for me.

Part of the draw for me to McMeekin’s lecture was, of course, that it is the centenary of the beginning of the World War 1, and I have numerous books on the subject waiting to be read.  I’ve begun to re-read Barbara Tuchman’s seminal Guns of August, although it is now rather dated. Nevertheless it is a good beginning. There are many other events on WW1 and I was able to go to The National Army Museum where it was hosting a day on The Armies in 1914. Among the presentations was one on The Indian Army given by Major Gordon Corrigan of The British Commission for Military History.

Corrigan, formerly a major in the Gurkhas, gave a very good overview of the Indian Army particularly in 1914; in addition, he related a number of interesting facts about Indians and their army. At the outbreak of the war in August 1914 the British Army in the UK numbered only about 125,000 men, and about half were required for home defence. By contrast the Germans, French and Russians were able to mobilise millions of men. It would take time for the UK army to be expanded and so one of the key sources was the Indian Army which was all volunteer and regular.

The Indian Army was probably not well prepared for any conflict largely because of budgetary constraints. Its equipment was a little dated but this was easily remedied on their arrival in Europe.  The Indian Army was not typical of the Indian population in that most of its servicemen were from the martial classes, mainly Sikhs, Pathans, Gurkhas and Dogras. Major Corrigan pointedly said that he would rather twenty Sikhs behind him in battle than a hundred Spaniards which is rather unfair on Spaniards but shows the regard in which Sikhs are held by the British.

The martial classes Corrigan continued often lived in areas of India that were mountainous, cold and where there were numerous wars. Thus these classes merely changed their employers. Regiments and companies operated on class lines composed entirely of one religion. Each company at least had their cook and cookhouse where food for each religion could be cooked. Coming to Europe created some potential problems. All religions were prepared to eat chicken, and lamb providing they were butchered according to their customs. Rice grown in the south of France was procured and atta, flour, was brought from India. No groups had any issues in using frozen or tinned meat.

Muslim imams, Hindu and Sikh priests were it seems never sent abroad. Apparently one lost one’s caste if one travelled abroad but caste could be restored on payment of a donation. No Indian religion had any fear of dying; Muslims believed in a glorious death and Hindus that they would be reincarnated. When men died in battle there was always a co-religionist who knew and performed the rituals. Corrigan suggested that Sikhism had largely survived because of the British Indian Army since it recruited only those that followed the essential tenets, and that policy is followed by the Indian Army today. The Sikh cavalry that operated in Europe steadfastly refused to wear helmets; once when forced they put on helmets for senior officers and when out of sight threw them away, and retied their turbans.

Muslims were in particular put under great pressure by the Germans to mutiny or defect. With Turkey fighting on the German side the Germans believed Muslims could be seduced to join their “brothers”. Leaflets in Urdu were printed and fired into Indian Army trenches and positions. These leaflets were however greatly prized to be used as cigarette paper or toilet paper. Translations of letters that were sent home to India reveal there was interest in crops and marriages but no mention of disloyalty.

Generally the Indian Army was officered by men who had graduated in the Top 20-30 of their officer school class, whether Sandhurst or Woolwich for example. It was felt that an officer had to carry greater responsibility in the Indian Army e.g. managing different religions, and learning new languages. There were however many examples of situations where an NCO had to translate the officer’s words after the officer had left beginning: “What Sahib meant.....” Clearly language skills were not always perfect and competency in other subjects often meant that languages skills not tested. In a typical regiment there would be 11 UK officers with a doctor who might be Indian, and the NCOs were Indian. In the course of WW1 it was often difficult to replace officers because of the long time taken to train.

In September 1914 a large contingent of the Indian Army arrived in Marseilles to help relieve some of the pressure on the Allied armies particularly at Ypres, and did not fight as an individual unit but at company level integrated into the British Army. Overall the Indian Army in Europe, while small in numbers, succeeded in its mission, and were gradually replaced as the British Army grew in size. Thereafter the Indians fought in a number of campaigns including with Allenby in Palestine, Gallipoli, Salonika, and Mesopotamia (modern day Iraq), where it was felt their experience of the heat would be valuable forgetting many of the troops came from mountainous regions of India.

Many of the Indians wounded on the European battlefields were evacuated to military hospitals in Brighton and the Chattri Memorial, (see our post here) on the site of funeral pyres, is dedicated to those Indians who died. There is also a memorial to the Indian dead at Neuve Chapelle, France.  In all 43,000 Indians died fighting for the Empire, and 65,000 were wounded. It is a sacrifice that should never be forgotten especially in this anniversary period.

Indian Memorial at Neuve Chapelle photo: Author: Sir Herbert Baker (9 June 1862 – 4 February 1946) and Charles Thomas Wheeler KCVO, PRA (14 March 1892 – 22 August 1974 Carcharoth.  Reproduced under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License

'Speed' at Kali Theatre - a review

‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife’.

Set in 19^th century Britain, this opening sentence of Jane Austen’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’ will be familiar to many, together with Gurinder Chadha’s Indian film adaptation ‘Bride and Prejudice’.

Traditionally though in India it would not be the man or women looking for a spouse, but the parents and relatives.  The ‘ideal type’ for a wife or husband among educated or wealthy Indian families would perhaps include:

• Doctor (preferably consultant) / PhD / MBA – from the top universities in either UK or US


• Wealthy or potential to become very wealthy


• No previous history – ie. has remained celibate / virginal, no boyfriends or girlfriends – not even a hint at fancying the opposite sex until marriage (this rule might be relaxed slightly for boys, never for girls)


• Heterosexual (of course)


• Same caste if Hindu


• Devoted to parents and dutiful.


• Girls only: good cook, passive and obedient.  Even if a doctor / PhD / MBA


• Preferably light-skinned (yes, I know – racist overtones – but the preference exists)

This is an ideal type, of course, which only a tiny minority will actually be able to live up to.  Then there is the rest of us and Reality.

For many of us, myself included, your 20s was a time of insecurity and confusion, also excitement and exploration - and trying to work out what on earth you actually want to do with your life.  More so perhaps in a big city like London where anything and everything is on offer. I know there are some – and I have known some very impressive 20-somethings – who are admirably sorted, focused and pursuing their goals.  But I would suggest the vast majority of us, especially in the West, are bumbling along, trying to make sense of it all.  Add to that parental pressure to ‘settle down and get married’ plus your own internal pressure to find a ‘soulmate’ to settle down with and have babies – no big deal then, just someone to sleep with and live with for the rest of your life – and it can add up to much confusion, heartbreak and anxiety.

This is the territory explored by the play Speed, which we saw last week at the Tristan Bates Theatre in Central London.  Written by Iman Qureshi – herself a 20-something, and performed by the innovative Kali Theatre – it focuses on 5 characters brought together at an Asian speed dating event.  Through a series of dialogues between different pairings and monologues, each character reveals their individual search for identity.  There is Qal, the slick city banker who is struggling to acknowledge his attraction to other men.  Sara, in a pink wig and short dress, seems in reaction to, or in denial of her Pakistani Muslim heritage.  Drinking heavily, when asked where she is from she says ‘London’.  And where her parents are from? – ‘London’.  Shalini has just broken up with her white rich boyfriend and Nikesh is marking the first anniversary of his break up from his girlfriend by coming to the speed dating event.  Perhaps most movingly was Sammy – born a girl but changed gender to become a man.  He is here hoping to experience his first kiss with a woman.

Susen’s first response after the play was that ‘it wasn’t very Asian’.  But what exactly is an ‘Asian’ play?  It was a breath of fresh air to have contemporary writing that didn’t evoke the same stereotypes of family pressure to marry the chosen partner versus an ‘immoral’ western lifestyle of boyfriends and girlfriends.  These are the 2^nd and 3^rd generation immigrants who have been brought up with western liberties and values and it’s good to see a theatre production representing these 20-somethings as individual, sometimes conflicted characters like the rest of us - searching for and trying to create their identities in a reflexive, complex, late modern, liberal, multicultural industrialised society that is London today.

Remembering Tony Benn 1925-2014

[caption id="attachment_1177" align="alignleft" width="226"] Photo courtesy of Isujosh[/caption]

Sadly Tony Benn, the veteran Labour and Socialist politician, died in the early hours of this morning at the age of 88. Briefly he had been amongst the longest serving MPs, in the House of Commons from 1950 to 2001 and had served as a Cabinet Minister under both Harold Wilson and James Callaghan in the 1960s and 1970s.  He never occupied one of the great offices of state, was defeated in his run for Deputy Leadership of the Labour Party, over time developed much more socialist leanings and was a divisive figure.  But he was beloved by the Left for his commitment to socialist issues and for his passion and oratory.

It’s not widely known that Benn had a number of connections with India. His father, Viscount Stansgate, was Secretary of State for India from 1929-31 and Benn met Mahatma Gandhi as a boy.  It’s not clear at what age this meeting or meetings took place although Mishal Hussain was told by Benn it was when he was 12.  Based on Benn’s diaries he met Indira Gandhi a number of times.  Later he met Indira’s son, Rajiv, when Prime Minister of India, on a trip arranged by my father.

In the 1980s my father raised money in the UK for The Netaji Research Bureau in Calcutta.  Netaji of course was Subhas Chandra Bose, who had been a leading independence politician and had raised an army - the Indian National Army - to fight the British with Japanese help.  Netaji is believed to have perished in an air crash at the end of World War II.

The Netaji Research Bureau was run by Dr Sisir Bose, Netaji’s nephew, who had been instrumental in Netaji’s escape from house arrest by the British in 1941.  On trips to Calcutta we had visited the museum at Netaji Bhavan and made donations. With connections to Dr Bose through Calcutta Medical College my father raised money by soliciting donations from Indians and businesses in the UK.

Hunting for a speaker for the Netaji Memorial Lecture in Calcutta in 1989 my father decided to approach Tony Benn who was immediately taken by the idea.  Benn researched his father’s papers looking for material.  Together with Sisir Bose my father met Benn at his house in Holland Park to discuss arrangements and the lecture.  My father recollected that Benn had been unfailingly kind and courteous and offered numerous cups of tea.

Flights to Calcutta and accommodation were arranged and Benn duly delivered his lecture; sadly I do not have any idea of the contents.  Whilst in India a meeting with then Prime Minister, Rajiv Gandhi, was arranged I believe through the offices of Krishna Bose, a Congress MP and wife of Dr Sisir Bose.

It was reported in The Times that Benn, presumably on this same trip to Calcutta, had stayed at the Bengal Club, which was formerly a club for British expatriates, but an institution so beloved by Indians that they have taken to it after independence as a meeting place for its elite. At the Bengal Club Benn was asked if he was part of the Wedgwood Benn family and after replying affirmatively was embarrassed to be shown paintings of ancestor Wedgwood Benns in battle in India and receiving knighthoods. Clearly being a descendant of British imperialists did not sit well with Benn the modern socialist.

Even after his trip Benn was keen to keep in touch and sent my father an autographed copy of the latest edition of his diaries.  Later when my cousin and aunt came to London tickets to Prime Minister’s Questions and tea on the Members’ Terrace of the Houses of Parliament was arranged.

RIP a remarkable man who took pride in his links to India.