An Intimate History of Bengal
Book XIV
Bengal - the
France of India – a mid summer‘s night awakening.
[This BOOK owes its existence to a chance remark by a Calcutta
citizen and a scholar here, while we were smoking over a small break in between
classes in Strathclyde Business School, Glasgow. As chance would have it, I was reading a book called France Today, written by John Ardagh
whose authority is backed by thirty years of living in France
and a genuinely pleasing narrative style. Mr. Ardagh
is a British Citizen and he never fails to bring Britain
and Europe in comparison on any issue of France.
Anecdotal, objective and down to earth – it is a work of scholarship and a
greater work of masking it altogether. In this last aspect, it radiates one of
the core values of French Literature which is known to a Bengali of my
generation since early childhood, thanks to quality translation available in
Bengali, done by an army of sensitive, liberal and open-minded educators. Every
Bengali of my generation must have come across the classics of Duma, Victor
Hugo and Paris, the beloved monster as Mr.
Ardagh calls her. But a Bengali will more
likely to call her by the time-honoured name which he would reserve for Calcutta
too - Paris, the glory of France.]
Onward 1950s,
Bengal‘s great national mission and revolutionary spirit, both had a shock as
the great centralization of India came to pass, with its power-centre at Delhi.
The recently anointed leaders of Delhi, except Nehru, were less sophisticated
in terms of cultural learning, came to this immediate and natural conclusion
that the richness of being a free state is equivalent to being harbouring a living
and rich culture. In terms of Cultural
Capital and Linguistic sophistication, Bengal had
nothing to do with Third-World hegemony - a vision Nehru was trying to give
shape in his foreign affairs. In culture and language, Bengal had
little to do, in spheres of culture with China or Russia. The
very mind-set of Bengali intellectual was too matured to overlook the subtle
cultural nuances and political freedom for best Bengal minds
was always a disturbing affair, not a settled concept of Swaraj. As early as 1830s, Raja Rammohan Roy explored this issue and
he was providing a vision of a world state.Tagore portrays this disturbance in
one of his short stories where a revolutionary discovers, at a later age, of
the personal and cultural price paid in terms ignoring and losing his childhood
sweet-heart for revolution and its interpretation. In a poignant line, he says
– Surabala (the girl) was waiting for me
while I was trying to be a Mazzini or Garibaldi. [Ek Ratrir Golpo - Galpaguchha]
Bengal and France, both
share a restless, sometimes unnecessary and thoughtless pursuit of novelty.
Both the communities, widely separated in geography has certain remarkable
parallel – sensual, gastronomically gifted, loquacious, irritable,
vainglorious, arrogant, sentimental, emotional and just Charles de Gaulle said
– France is nothing without her greatness,
Bengal in Indian or international context is nothing without her greatness.
From 1789 till today, whenever France
fought for all humanity, she was great inspite of all her excesses, her
follies, her weakness. Exactly same for Bengal. Bengal took
up the national mission without having any idea of its practical or pragmatic
aspects. But she was great because she was fighting for all humanity, for a passionate
yearning of greatness. Tagore remarked this paradigm shift when a Contemporary Bengali
could appeal to the British sense of justice and not to the whims of petty English
officials. Bengal‘s national mission was based, initially on this historical strategic
realization – A man is a man for a that.
It was nothing but the highest appeal to the highest court of European Civilization
which France first
articulated in an explosive frenzy, which future Gibbon would write as if still felt by the nations of the earth. Then
Bengal took Communism
but it was only a means to correct the historical error of quarter a century
back to protect her little self. She might have achieved in this count but none
except Communists say this as great. During Vietnam War, Bengal again
regained that spirit and she spoke for all humanity. (Asoke Mitra‘s essay on Vietnam) During war at Iraq (I
was there at Calcutta and
had first hand evidence), Bengal spoke
again but it was for her immediate and local political imperative to protest,
not for greatness. There was no poetry in it, the protest was more like a
British meeting, charted and calculated not like – Sakal Nam bhariye deba, Tomar Nam, Amar Nam - Vietnam, Vietnam !
In 1941, France
capitulated to German Arms almost without any fighting and swastika was flying
over Eiffel Towers. France in
Defeat was still France and
it was Charles de Gaulle who was the only Frenchmen who had the soul of France. He
was actually a non-entity, he had no distinguished military career, neither had
he had any great political genius but he steadfastly remained loyal to the idea
of La glorie Françoise. He was aware of
his arrogance and his inconsequential bargaining power when he told Churchill –
Why talk with me if I don’t represent France? He
was nothing without everything and none dared to call the bluff. This is the
vindication of the French spirit which no Petain,
Vichy or Gamelin could overcome. He was the only
Frenchmen in position to understand this cultural wisdom – France is nothing
without her greatness and when he appealed to this, France gave him best what
she withheld earlier.
Bengal
produced her equivalent of Charles de Gaulle whose only appeal was greatness
and he was generously given the sacrifice he asked for. In the whole history of
Bengal and India,
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose remains singularly alone and enigmatic when he
fought for his idea outside of geographical India. The
Communist Left did exactly the same as they did in France –
they would not fight for free France but
they would work under a German bayonet. The great divide that a Communist mind
has in terms of nation and international communism has the only parallel in
terms of the authentic divide between Islam and its pan-national outlook. The
response of ruling Left of Bengal to the Iraq War, combined with the Islamic
question connecting both Iraq and
Bengal/India is an interesting issue and it remains a project of AIHB to
explore this in some forthcoming book. The immediate strategic failure of INA
was also an ominous signal for Bengal that it would not be asked for greatness
again and it proved to be true.
During my ramta-jogi travel in France, to
my eternal regret of not mastering the language fully I am not in a position to
provide anything other than anecdotal and something as detestable as tourist
experience. But something is anyway better than nothing. France, even in her
lowest phase retains a sense of greatness which manifests sometimes as a poor
man‘s claim of dynastic wealth, achieved and lost, both quite long time
ago. Americans find, quite rightly as
French being an ungrateful nation considering the fact that liberation of Paris was
largely due to American and British military prowess. Italians, more prone to
the reverie of dynastic wealth as far as Romans mock at Charles de Gaulle‘s parade
at the head of the French Army at Champs-de-Elysee as after liberation. Germans
have forgotten the old memories and the pervasive American cultural and
gastronomic onslaught makes the forgetfulness faster and easier. British, since
time immemorial had a sense of envy for French all the more because, in their
practical and ordered mind, they fail to understand this French claim to
greatness, in spite of all tangible statistics saying the opposite. But the
best of the observers give the answer away while they talk about themselves, to
their great credit – British historians, notably AJP Taylor, again a maverick, ingenious
and have something unmistakably French.
It was a great fortune for France that
it was a country in Europe. It
has been one of the greatest cultural achievements of modern Europe to
acknowledge and comprehend the fact that France,
since her explosive days since 1789 has built a whole new consciousness without
which Europe would have been
nothing. The radioactive fire of revolution, in its long term acts like the
stress of childbirth on the mother. The infant is a joy for all but the mother
has given her all and remains weak and it requires time to re-gather strength.
France as a nation suffered most, her repeated call for greatness since
Napoleon, since the rise of Bismarck‘s Germany, since Hitler ravaged her. She
overused and abused her remarkable fertility in the domain of ideas and this
ravaged her. Europe
received the fruits of her womb whereas France
suffered all the trauma of the births. 1940-1945 was the payback time for Europe and
why I call France as
fortunate is due to the simple fact that it was paid back, hesitatingly and
grudgingly perhaps but Europe did.
1944 was the last great year of Europe and
it was fitting that this great European moment was played in Paris. In
hindsight, Charles de Gaulle‘s fanatic faith on the greatness of France was not
a claim based on present facts but he learnt the wisdom of history and his
appeal to Europe was successful. If any European would have asked about
France‘s debacle, her pitiable condition and why they should help France,
Charles de Gaulle would have his command a single line from Baudelaire – the father
of the year of Fleurs du Mal , France
should be helped because – She cannot
walk for her Great Wings. (The Albatross, 1857)
The first great Cultural Context of
great significance occurred when Raja Rammohan Roy in Calcutta had a
party called in 1790 to celebrate the Revolution of France. It was a symbolic
event where a feudal aristocrat celebrates something which in spirit is
completely against his own class interest. This was the essence of France – she
dreamt something and due to the her Latin passion of articulation, articulated
with a magic enchantment, little knowing that these sireni song will attract
those forces that would endanger her. France was
fortunate that a generation of Europe felt
this self-less burning out as if incense, bewitched by its own fragrance burns
more intensely, something hastening its own doom.
French Literature found two Bengalis who made
creative experiments in style in Bengali. We are talking of Pramathanath Bishi
and Kamalkumar Majumder. The former brought an enlightened wit in Essays [‘German Scholarship is Gas-Knowledge and
French scholarship is gas-light] and the latter unleashed this same spirit
in novel and narrative style. Later came Buddhadev
Basu who was one of those Bengalis (second is Syed Mujtaba Ali) who, fortunately or unfortunately were born quite
ahead of their time. Buddhadev was the last Bengali in the millennium who
radiated an international curiosity and gave us a grace of prose style which
has not been rivaled since. He brought Malarme,
Verlain and Baudelaire into Bengal and
he ensured interaction of these ideas in Bengali literature with wonderful
results. For his role as Editor of Kabita
and a poet of first order, we remain in eternal debt to him to bring the
continuity of the harvest of symbolic movement that emanated in France. But
the timing was not right. Bengal in
1960s was a cauldron of those forces which crush privilege, belief systems and
historical accumulation. The air was full of an uneasy truce and it was a time
of change, of discontinuous shift when one class collapses and another takes
over. At least this was the analysis by Asoke Mitra in his essay entitled Bangladesh‘69. It is easy to
talk about discontinuity and revolution but the warning of Burke to Rousseau remains
equally valid, till today - ‘when all beliefs have ceased to be, what is the
certainty that belief of the right of individual will be respected? ‘ In 1969-70, an old order was giving shape to the new; the
leaders of change were announcing the historical discontinuity as the Manifesto declared. But as
revolutionaries are always at ease in answering the greatest question – In this
discontinuity, what about the accumulated cultural earning? Does it imply that
destruction of the privileged class is same as destruction of their entire
cultural accumulation? Marx had not said anything on this issue, Trotsky
avoided the question altogether, intelligent and literary gifted (and perhaps the
singular one of all the Marxists) enough to understand the import of the
question, Stalin and his likes reverse-engineered history, Germans discovered a
real-time propaganda and ‘sound and fury‘to
snuff out this ‘story of the idiot.‘ But the question haunted all revolutionaries since the
first one since 1789 and it has been haunting French ever since.
This uneasy and suspended question
remained and it haunted Bengal.
1970-71 saw the eruption and the generation who a decade back was bewitched by
the symbolic structure of French symbolism decided to go further in history to
look for inspiration. The Reign of Terror, in its Bengal
version was unleashed in the streets and Bengal
entered, due to her own romantic choice, fuelled by all the accumulation of the
past into a writhing churning and ferment of ideas. Within two years, she gave
birth to lots of ideas and then as it always happens, made a dictatorial regime
possible. Taine remains vindicated when he said that all
revolutions culminate into strengthening the power of the state and this is the
irony of all revolutions. Bengal‘s restlessness was guided by the power centre
at Delhi and Delhi‘s interaction with Russia and China. Internationally,
Russian Policy became isolationist and the idea of perpetual revolution was no
longer true. Bengal‘s regime, for all political purposes proved to be an
isolated event. But this process brought a discontinuity, however unclear it is
and just like France, left
her weak, emaciated and unready for further insemination of ideas. The world
moved on as always and within twenty years from the early seventies, she
relapsed into her provinciality, petty self-love and self-protection and got
lost in history. 1971 was Bengal‘s last attempt to correct a historical mistake
as well as her greatest undoing in short term strategy. 1971 proved the
original argument posed in the book that Bengal is
the France of India – maverick and foolhardy, original and restless, creative
and stupid. In short – all the traits that make one interesting but not
imitable.
France had
this dilemma in 1890s as to the question of rising German Power. France had a
stark choice – it has to either make an immediate military invention or to go
down in history as the great European power. It has to choose between
imperialism and the spirit of Revolution. France
vacillated, with an unerring insight of a creative race, she knew the price but
in the end, she remained true to greatness and chose to suffer 1914-18 and
1941-44. She was destined to be weak after the great wars but she remained
truly great and true to greatness and greatness alone when she chose to
represent the accumulated wealth of European Civilization – a sense of mission,
a sense of greatness. Even British historians and Americans could not help
giving a glowing tribute while after fifty years they found the difference
between French Civilization and German Order.
1971 was the year of dilemma for Bengal and
it has to be seen in perspective of 1905 – the first division of Bengal. The
country of Bangladesh was
going to be born; Bengal was
parting her most beautiful landscape (Sylhet she had already lost in 1947) of
East and the most fertile zone, gateway to East and Far
East. The power-centre at Delhi
betrayed her again, this time in a different manner, in a different condition.
She had to make a decision – a momentous decision and she made it finally. She
chose to be engulfed by the greatest refugee exodus of the century that she
knew would make her poorer, impoverished and weak. In spite of all strategic
negatives, she remained true to greatness again, becoming home for all of them.
She opened her Gates to all of them who have been victims of revolution, the excesses
of her children she herself has mothered a century back. She remained true to
her inner psyche where she loves Shelley more than Keats; she sacrificed her
dowager status of a city to that of the present wretchedness. She remained
faithful to her everlasting urge to grow beyond the Indian context and a casual
observer can see today the difference between Calcutta‘s urban liberalism and
Gujrat‘s pogrom.
The judgment of history on this
already announced when G. Aravindanan of Kerala made his film vastuu-hara and any decent Bengali bhodro-lok may take solace and inspiration
from that fact that decent and liberal spirit has not failed to understand her
present lot – She cannot walk for her
Great Wings.
Bengal was France for India but
unfortunately, India was
not Europe. She did more
than what France did
for Europe. Since 1828, her
fertile womb, in astonishing frequency and richness of off-springs built up the
modern Indian consciousness. It was her deepest passion for literature and culture
that made her a home for many a noble souls. Unlike some of the cities in India, where
to be poor is a sin; she never succumbed, sometimes at the expense of her own interest
to the interlocking of cash and culture. In a way her endurance and resilience proves to
be greater than France. East Bengal, the equivalent
of Alsace-Lorriane for her had been taken
away. In Bangladesh now erupts
those forces which are a deep anti-thesis for what Calcutta stood
for. As an adult
and a professional in India, I always came across those who or whose previous generation
owe a lot to the people of Bengal and in the irony they are one of Bengal‘s staunchest
and unsympathetic detractors. But it is perhaps the penalty of creative explosion
and original contribution for any race. In the highly cost and cash centric West
and North of India, planning to join the Global Cash Wagon, perhaps it is Gibbon who said it all so simply and tersely - ‘Gratitude is costly.‘.
To close this BOOK which gave me wonderful
pleasure to write invites my attention to two personal incidences which is anecdotal
but refreshing in recapitulation. The year France won the
world cup by beating Brazil in the
finals, I was in the Malabar, in Cochin. The torrential
rain made the city-streets waterlogged. Having invited by a non-resident Calcutta citizen
(in true sense a Citizen) Mr. Halder to watch the game,
we were at a loss to support whom – the land of Pele or France.
All other lands remind us something of a person but France is a personality. We
drank French wine that night as a celebration of victory. Vive La France.
More than twenty years ago, I was at
the Gates of Eden for the first time to watch a cricket match, overlooking the trams
coming from West in a cold winter morning, a middle-aged gentleman was in the queue
and he was carrying a book whose front page was marked Le Monde and while I asked him casually whether this is an English word,
he lovingly introduced me to France. Also, he gifted me his own paper sunshade with
a smile. While I refused, he said - kokha,
ami ar-ekta peye jabo. Later years, after so many dreams and its rupture, my
love-hate relationship with Calcutta, the beloved monster, Calcutta always
brings me back the face of that gentleman and I always find it pleasing to believe
that I met, in the form of the man – the true essence the Civilization of Bengal.
Bibliographic Note: It was never in the original intention of AIHB
to provide a formal bibliography. But some of our readers wanted that an indicative
one would be beneficial to them. Hence this Note. Apart from sources which are mentioned
in the BOOK itself, interested readers may like to read
- France Today, John Ardagh, Penguin 1995
- Europe : Grandeur and Decline, AJP Taylor
- Origin of Second
World War, AJP Taylor
- Munitions of the
Mind – A history of Propaganda from ancient to present day, Philip M Taylor,
Manchester University Press.
- A Social History of England, GM Trveleyan
Most of the Bengali
sources are relied on my memory. I have tried best to be as accurate as possible
in recollection. However, memory not being an infallible guide, we would stand
corrected if some careful reader points out any inaccuracies in Bengali sources.
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