Organizer: Durba Ghosh, Cornell University

Chair: Vinayak Chaturvedi, University of California-Irvine

Discussant: Vinayak Chaturvedi, University of California-Irvine

The papers on this panel address the place of militant nationalism in India and the ways in which three distinct regional movements constitute postcolonial imaginaries about Indian nationalism. All three papers deal with paths taken by Indian nationalists; paths that when compared to the mainstream nationalist agenda espoused by the Gandhi-led Congress can be described as incomplete or at best marginal. Nonetheless, the visions embodied in these nationalisms resonate as important narratives to which Indians are attached.

Rochona Majumdar analyzes the significance of multiple stories circulated by many in different parts of India that Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose did not die in the plane crash in Taiwan and had allegedly "returned" in the guise of a mendicant(s). Neeti Nair locates Bhagat Singh in the anti-colonial movement in the Punjab and points to the potential of and limits to dissent that were exemplified by his death. Finally, Durba Ghosh's study on the participation of women in a revolutionary movement was largely underground during the nationalist movement examines the worship for heroes whose promise was never realized. The affection and reverence that many have for these figures who held radical views suggests that the hegemonic vision of Indian nationalism as nonviolent might be one we should reconsider.

The panel seeks to address issues of the transition from the colonial to the postcolonial by exploring the ways in which remembrances of heroes are shaped by the socio-political exigencies of the postcolonial state.

Neeti Nair, Tulane University

As ‘prince among martyrs’, Bhagat Singh has either been eulogized in locally produced monographs or relegated to a footnote in ‘national’ histories devoted to Gandhi’s role in the making of India’s Independence. This paper argues that he was central to the resolution of many of the divisions that racked the Punjab.

Far from being advocates of illegitimate violence, Bhagat Singh and his co-conspirators gained unprecedented popularity during their practice of hunger-strikes and non-violent civil disobedience within the walls of Lahore’s prisons in 1929-1930. Although they failed in their final goal at causing a shift in the Congress’ ‘national’ program, we dwell on a moment when the ‘clash of principles’ that necessitated their death by hanging, brought them the support of every group in the Punjab Congress and the entire non-official bloc in the Central Legislative Assembly.

By labeling them ‘murderers’ and ‘terrorists’, and invoking their history of violence, the British sought to dismiss their non-violent demands for rights as ‘political prisoners.’ The same politics of labeling assisted Gandhi and his followers from not facing the fundamental contradiction in the Congress’ anti-colonial strategy.

Durba Ghosh, Cornell University

This paper examines the ways in which three women’s lives have been narrated and remembered in Bengal in the postcolonial period. It questions conventional historical narratives that link nonviolence and women’s participation in twentieth-century South Asian politics by examining a regional movement and the narratives and memories that have sprung up around it.

Bengal’s history of political violence against the colonial government began in the aftermath of the 1905 partition, when Bengal was divided for administrative purposes. The well-known swadeshi campaign was accompanied by a campaign of political violence, which included assassination attempts, robberies, bombings and vandalism. These groups were restrained by the colonial government through a program of arrests, censorship and detentions that began in 1916 and carried on through the 1920s.

By the 1930s, political parties who engaged in political violence had regrouped, including women for the first time. Many of these women were educated, elite daughters of important civil servants and professionals. Defying the stereotypes that colonial police officials had of high-caste Hindu women as secluded, compliant, and politically unaware, these three women – Kalpana Dutt, Kalyani Das Bhattacharje, and Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay – joined and participated in an underground revolutionary movement that planned to overthrow British rule by supporting acts of violence.

After India was granted its independence in 1947, all three of these women produced memoirs, oral histories, and contributed to stories detailing their insurgent exploits. Occupying a special place in Bengal’s telling of its contribution to the nationalist struggle, these women produced themselves as a particular type of female nationalist hero who fulfilled, rather than betrayed, the promise of Bengali womanhood.

Rochona Majumdar, University of Chicago

In August 1945, Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, nationalist leader from Bengal and the founder of the Indian National Army died in a plane crash in Taiwan. Or did he? As numerous historians, politicians, and thousands of ordinary Indians from all parts of the country asked, expressing skepticism about Netaji's demise in the alleged plane crash. A large number of books have been written investigating the events leading up to the crash. Doubts about his death were first voiced on November 7, 1946, to Jawaharlal Nehru, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel and others of the
interim government that was preparing India for independence. The first government enquiry committee convened to investigate whether Netaji had really died in the crash was in 1956. Since then numerous other committees have met to critique and refute the findings of the 1956 committee, namely the One Man Inquiry Commission headed by G.D.Khosla in 1970 and
most recently the Mukherjee commission which ended in 2005. Born in 1897, Netaji would have been 108 years old if in fact he was alive in 2005. Although this seems highly unlikely many Indians have until very recently clung on to the hope that the nationalist leader is still alive. This main question animating this paper is thus: Why has the Netaji myth had such a tenacious grip over the psyche of the Indian masses? To elaborate this primary question a little more one
could ask, in what ways did people imagine Netaji's return? In order to understand the longevity of the Netaji myth, this paper will attempt to link Bose's afterlife to the nationalism he espoused during his lifetime.