CH III

The World War (1914) and its menace to the Andamans

The reader must have gathered from the first Chapter of this section, how, we, political prisoners, were handicapped for news from India, and how, later on, that is, after my transportation to the Silver Jail, matters became easier for us to procure news from India and circulate it in the Andamans. Officers like Mr. Barrie spread among us canards from India to harass and frighten us at the start of our prison-life here, whereas after two years we gave him the correct news about the position in India, so that faked news found no soil to take root in these islands since that date onwards. I give here one or two very funny instances of how they tried to fool and frighten us then.

A Bomb on the Governor-General

In the viceregal procession to the Coronation Durbar in Delhi in 1912, a bomb was thrown at Lord Hardinge, the then Viceroy of India, somewhere in the vicinity ofthe Chandni Chowk, when a stampede ensued, and, before the procession could move onwards, the elephant with its Howdah in which Lord Hardinge was seated had to be taken out of it. Except for the shock of the incident, the Viceroy had suffered no material injury. This was reported as confidential news to the Chief Commissioner of the Andamans, but we got it through our sources right at the time that it was flashed to the Chief Commissioner. Depending upon it and in order to verify it, for it was likely to be full of discrepancies as it came to us, I asked an officer who came to the prison next morning on his usual round, “Has the coronation Durbar Ceremony at Delhi passed off all right?” As he had no news of it till that time, he answered, “Yes, of course; you revolutionaries must certainly have been staggered to witness this formidable display of our Imperial prestige.” I simply laughed to myself at this expression of arrogance, and he was touched to the quick by my indifference. He returned to the office and Mr. Barrie put into his hands the special wire he had received from Delhi. He, instantly, flared up in abuse, and said, “Surely enough, these fellows must have some inkling of it.” Mr. Barrie was astounded at the remark. He started the secret enquiry and found that the news had been the talk of the entire prison. He created a scene in his office. One of my young friends, by name Mr. Nair, was in the office at that time, for he had to attend it as a clerk. Mr. Barrie cast his suspicion upon poor Mr. Nair. He pestered him for two days after, to tell him who had brought the news to me. He threatened him with caning. The young man was a spirited individual. With pen in hand he stood up and invited Mr. Barrie to cane him there and then. Mr. Nair was taken to the superitendent who found no proof against him to confirm Mr. Barrie’s sispicion. He was punctual and clever in his work andpet, on that account, of the superitendent. The superitendent let him off with a warning he was to keep no connection with me; and that if he was found doing so, the superitendent would order caning him as punishment for the offence. This young man continued his association with me inspite of the threat, and we were intimate with each other till my release from the jail. In my final year, the officers themselves appointed him and me to work together. That is all that I have to say of him for the present.

I had particular motive to let Mr. Barrie understand that we had already known of the Bomb incident at Delhi, that, with one or two experiences of a similar character, he might cease his pin-prickings and realise the futility of his effort to hide the news from us. And the result of it was as I had anticipated. He was amazed to learn that he could hide no news from us. And, on occasions, he plainely told me as well as the superitendent that it was only impossible for a man like him to prevent the political prisoners from talking to one another, but to prevent news also from reaching them from the outside world. He added, “Even if the devil be sent here as a jailor instead of me, he will not be able to stop it.” This sentence he used to repeat to us, every now and then, and, in course of time, he became very lenient to us in the matter of news. He connvied at us almost, only catching such news-monger as he could let escape. On the other hand, he and the other officers of the place adopted towards us a different line of policy, and that was to give the news to us straight as it came to them - The bazar and other news about any happening in the world reached us often in an exaggerated and garbled form, for those who brought it could not report it faithfully to us out of their sheer illiteracy and ignorance. For instance about the Delhi affair they reported to us as follows: “four big officials were done to death by the bomb”, which was evidently a felse news. Why then prevent us from getting the correct news rather than let such false news filter down to us from the bazar? The officers reasoned about the matter. “The mischief created by the report of correct news was any day less harmful than the mischief of false and exaggerated news from unreliable sources.” It was this experience that had at last brought the officers to their senses. How I wished that they had seen the wisdom of it long ago! They now began to give as newspapers to read. And when they came to us from Mr. Barrie himself we had no need for getting the kind of news that we used to procure from the outside. We were saved all the bother of it; and we got faithful news without being put to any trouble for it. To avenge himself on us for the news of Delhi that we got before him, Mr Barrie spread the news in our jail that my younger brother was arrested in connection with the incident at Delhi.

My younger brother in the Delhi incident

This was no impossible news, and I learnt later that he had to suffer a great deal in connection with that incident. But as I did not know anything about it at that time, I was naturally anxious to know the truth about it. That very afternoon the Superintendent asked me if I had a younger brother and if he was yet free. Before I could give him any answer, Mr. Barrie, as was usual with him, wickedly remarked, “O, if he is free, you will soon find him here.” Slightly annoyed by it I said, “Any man from India can come here, for the whole of India is a vast prison-house, as much as Ireland. What wonder then that my brother should be here?” Mr. Barrie was an Irishman, and he looked crest-fallen. Then the Superintendent put in, “I do not know anything of it, but am I right when I say that he is a bit of a coward?” I asked him, just to pump him out, “How do you say so?’ The Superintendent answered, “I say so because he wired to the police as noon as he got the news from Delhi that it should note that he was at Calcutta. He informed the police thai they should not involve him in it. To which I retorted, “Then I may consider him the wisest man in Calcutta. Evidently, he had not thrown it, but even if he had thrown the bomb, this was the cleverest way to mislead the police. He was no coward. He is a brave man for he knows to attack and yet escape.”

Evidently these remarks were dictated by vehemence and passion. The Superintendent was taken aback and went away without making any answer.

For two or three days after this conversation, I was really restless in mind about my brother. Repeatedly those verses came to my mind in which I had embodied my deepest conviction :

“I have not taken thin vow blindly, or in the course nature, just to win popularity and fame. This ordeal is extremely painful; burns the soul like fire. I, know it, and I have taken It as the sati takes her vow that she will immolate herself on the funeral pyre of her husband.” I brought the verses vividly to my mind, repeated them to myself, and was prepared for the worst. So was I consoling myself when I learnt the truth, and was completely relieved in mind.

I may give here another instance of how Mr. Barrie used to tease us. One day he came and asked us,

“Who Is this Har Dayal?”

I answered, “You know him. He is the man to whom the Home Member, Sir Reginald Craddock, had referred as the leader of the revolutionary movement in America, in his conversation with me in this jail.” I further enquired of him If he had any special information to give me about him. Mr Barrie told me of Har Dayal, as if in confidence, that he was brought to Bombay on the charge of murder. I was simply stunned by that news. That one of our great revolutionary leaders should have been so arrested and was to meet the same fate as I, was too much for me to bear. How unhappy my country was, indeed, that the same destiny that was mine should be his I recalled my own arrest, my trial, my hardships, and my transportation to this jail. I sent out secretly warders to ascertain what truth there was in the news that Mr. Barrie had given me. They could not remember the name of HarDayal. So I made them repeat it, What a miserable condition, this, of our motherland, that those who had lived in other lands and had worked there for her freedom, at tremendous risk to their own lives, should not be known even by name to her own ungrateful children! The thought almost maddened me with grief. My fellow-prisoners had to pour water over my head to cool my heated brain. The Superintendent came in the wake of Mr. Barrie, and put me the same question, over and over again. I retorted that, indeed, I had the honour of knowing him as my vary intimate friend. He informed me that HarDayal was accused of murder, and he had implicated himself in the bomb incident in Delhi. I said. “May he, but that does not lower him, in the least, in my esteem, and my friendship will ever remain the same for him.” The Superintendent made out from these curt replies that I was not in my usual humorous and polite mood, that the news had completely upset my temper. Hc at once changed the topic and, after a time, left me lite political prisoners grew anxious that I should give such rash answers to him. I told them that I knew full wall what I was doing, that we must not take it quietly whan they talked in such terms of HarDayal, that we must not disown him because he was under arrest as they had told us, about it. That would be sheer cowardice on our part and I was not the man to behave so HarDayal was my friend and I was prepared to suffer any punishment for saying so. The, political prisoners ought to learn this, If they did not learn anything else. That was the only way to show our gratitude to HarDayal.

Gradually I became appeased in mind and set about getting the news for myself. Within two days I learnt that HarDayal was under arrest in America and was released on bail. We kept on asking Mr, Barrie where Har Dayal was. If he was In Bombay or taken to Delhi, free or under arrest. He deceived himself that we were absolutely In the dark about him. One day he told us that HarDayal was tried and sentenced, and would soon be despatched in Chalan to Port Blair. We all giggled at him. I told him to put HarDayal in the room next to my own, so that I might talk to him freely and fully. Poor Mr. Barrie took it all seriously and said he would think of it. It was too much for all of us, and the whole company burst into laughter. Mr. Barrie realised then that we were all fooling him to the top of his bent, and that we had all known that he was telling us lies. Days went by and we learnt that Har Dayal had given the slip to the police in America, and that the American Government itself had helped him in the escape. However that may have been, the news had lifted a burden from our hearts.

Now that I am on the subject, I may as well narrate a similar episode about another leader in India, how the authorities in this jail often spoke in contempt about the Indian worthies in order to spite us. This was during the days that my health was completely shattered and I was removed to the hospital for treatment and rest I was confined to bed at the tune and the Chief Commissioner visited the hospital to see me. He was a man who had always been polite to me. In the course of his conversation with me, he said that he had the good fortune to meet Surendranath Baneiji on board the ship that carried him from Europe to India.

Surendranath Banerji

The Chief Commissioner, continued, “I met him on the steamer and, after we were introduced to each other, the topic turning on the Andamans, Surendranath put me a question about your health. He asked me if he would be permitted to visit the Andamans to see the state of political prisoners for himself, and, if, in that case, he could personaly see you and enquire about you.” I at once asked the Chief Commissioner what he had said to Surendranath about that proposal. “I told him”, said the Commissioner, “you can come there by all means. I shall write to you definitely about it.” “But, look here, Savarkar, where can I put him? I have no better place to accommodate him than the block where you are put up, and in the room next door to yours.” I replied to him in lighthearted raillery, “Well, if you really mean it, there is the Chief Commissioner’s Bungalow; for two days the Chief Commissioner may very well stay here & accommodate Surendranath in his Bungalow.” I must say here in passing that the veteran leader of Bengal took interest in me and other political prisoners in the Andamans as no other leader did before or after him. He ventilated their grievances in his Paper “The Bengali’, and he ventilated them in the Legislative Council; he gave us all the help he could. I must pay my tribute to him here, though I regret that the old fighter is no more in the world to read it.

In the first part we had brought down the story of my prison- life to the middle of 1914. The strike brought us material concessions which enabled us to continue our work as before. As soon as the Chief Commissioner learnt of it he sent me a personal letter of congratulation, perhaps because he felt that that was the end of all his troubles in the administration of the prison. And I began to think how I was to pass the remaining fourteen years in that prison in the same chawl and in the same cell. When I entered the prison I had believed that I should not be passing more than five years in that room but now fourteen long years loomed before me as a dark long tunnel through which I was to pass before I entered the light on the other side.

As soon as I had learnt of my transportation for life, I had read up all the regulations of the prison in the Andamans and I had written to my wife a letter in verse assuring her of a home in the Andamans after a period of five years during which she should possess her soul in patience. We would have then a cottage and a garden in that place trellised over with creepers and plants of fragrant flowers like jasmin and its varieties, in which we shall dwell together united in love and peace, though far away from our kith and kin in India.

But even this hope had turned into a dupe. I found in these years a series of misfortunes befalling me, the last of which I discovered to beat all others before it, in its hardship for me. In the agony of mind, the dream of a happy home and of flowers trailing down by little cottage door had withered into shadows and insignificance. They could not bring to my parched soul even a dew-drop of refreshment and solace.

To add to this desolation and grief, only a few of us happened to be detained here when the rest of my political compatriots had been sent back to India, and could look forward to the remission of their sentences in their respective jails in India. We found our separation from them the gloomiest experience of our life. Our extreme solitude on this account would sometime become unendurable. A deep yearning came into the soul to call out someone by name, to ask someone to come and sit beside me. But in that heartless prison who was there to answer to my affectionate call? My mind thus began to prey upon itself. Nights were found too long and did not pass quickly into day-break. No new friends to make, no new work to organise, no new food for hope, the mind dwelt constantly on past memories, long-gone and forgotten activities, on friends in these years; and it played with these fantasies. But one does not feed on sugar and rice by merely drawing their picture on a piece of paper. These famished longings and thoughts sometime rebelled against me like unruly and riotous bands of robbers. Nothing that I could do would suppress them. The hunger was left unsatisfied; and it made the heart restless. This used to be my experience in prison for months together in succession. How much harassed by loneliness, how much eager for the society of friends, how much yearning and restless for friendship and love, and yet how much keen on duty to be done, my mind was during this period, none could know and describe except the few who had pined away with me in that prison. Do what we will to satisfy the authorities with our day’s work, there was no hope in it for our discharge from that prison. There was only one way out of this dire position. That was a chance of escape from the settlement when and if we were sent out for our daily labour. And with that aim, we were punctilious in attending to our daily work in prison. But when I learnt that I was to stay and work for fourteen long years within the precincts of the Silver Jail alone, that chance again faded out of my view. In retrospect today I cannot say how I must have passed those days in that place. Months went by in these musings when, all of a sudden, as bolt from the blue, news came to us of a war having broken out between England and some foreign power.

First, we could put no faith in this news from the marketplace. For the prisoners had been long in the habit of catching at some such thread of news in their helpless condition. Every four or five months some one would start the canard of a jubilee or similar celebration in which the prisoners were sure to get their freedom, and the prisoners welcomed the news in the hope ofthe drowning man catching at a straw. And it was bound to prove a hoax. Another news came floating in on a similar rising tide. The news of war was the most hopeful news of them all. But we did not yet know between whom the war had broken. For the prison-world knew only of two powers under the sun, the British power in India and England, and the Amir of Afghanistan. The Muslim section of it knew, besides, of Turkey and its Sultan. Therefore, when it was definitely known that war had broken out, it must be a war between the British and the Amir, or between Britain and Turkey. Britain had nothing to lose in her war either with Afghanistan or Turkey. Hence, for two or three days subsequently, I paid no attention to that news. Later on, news had filtered that the English monarch had gone to war with his son-In-law. But who was this precious son-in-law? Outsiders used to hint of Germany. But those who brought the news to me spoke often of an English Princess married to a foreigner on the continent of Europe. It was a war, they said to me, between these two sides. They could make some meaning of this relationship. But to me it came as a puzzle to think out an English Princess, married to a foreigner, on the continent. After much trouble I got a note written to me from the outside. And from that note I could make out that the war could be no other than between England and Germany, and that it had already begun between Germany and France.

So this was a war between England and Germany! - a prophesy I had made years ago. This was, indeed, a golden opportunity. But it came when I had found myself helpless and behind the prison- bars. As I have told many times before, what I write down here expresses my passing moods of the day, as they overpowered me in my prison at the time. They do not necessarily represent what I feel about the happenings today. They are, so to say, history, leaves from my diary, and not their justification today.

It was the activity of the Abhinav Bharat that had drawn the attention of Germany to India. When I was in Europe, I had long conversations with German, French, Irish, Turkish (the young Turks as they were called) and other diverse agitators and patriots, from which I found out that they did not know anything of India, that there was a people like Indians in the whole world. India as a nation did not exist for them. It was a dead civilisation -this India-which they thought could not be used conveniently even as a second fiddle to England in international affairs and in international politics. It was the propaganda carried on in England, through newspapers and other agencies by the Abhinav Bharat Mandal, which drew the attention of Germany to the existence and political importance of India. It interested all far-sighted politicians and leaders in her future. And more so in France and Germany than anywhere else, for the members of the Mandal had worked intensively in those countries on behalf of India. I may mention particularly the lecturing tour of Madame Cama in Germany which I have already mentioned earlier. Subsequently German Newspapers published articles on India from the pen of some of our workers. Then came the episode of Madanlal Dhingra and the shooting of Sir Curzon Wylie by that revolutionary. Madanlal Dhingra went to the gallows like a hero, and the British C. I. D. were set after our workers all over the field. This created an awakening in France and Germany about India, and faith in the power of our organisation. Madanlal Dhingra had made a reference to Germany in his final spirited statement to the Court that had tried him. My book on the Indian Mutiny of 1857 was in the press at that time, and the police were keen on knowing where it was being printed, and, therefore, it had come in a large number in Germany to keep a close watch on our movements. Some of the German officials had already informed me about it. I was warned to leave England in time that I might not be arrested inEngland itself This message came to me through one of our workers in Germany, who got the news from an agent in the German police itself. When the Abhinav Bharat’s Newspaper, “Sword” began its publication in England, I wrote an article in its first issue predicting war between Germany and England within six years. I had written in it a long article over the Kiel Canal. It was then that I had shown that such a war would be a golden opportunity for India. Later on my hazardous attempt to escape at Marseilles and the many international issues it had raised, made our movement, its hopes and ambitions, and the sacrifices we had made in its behalf, the topic of discussion all over Europe. These upheavals not only in India but at the door of Europe itself, had brought the realisation to Europe that India was a live nation, that it would prove a thorn in the side of England; and, therefore, would be a handy weapon in its hands for future use. England and Germany, being on bitter terms with each other, this notion swayed the mind of Germany more than that of any-one else. The German officials tried consequently to establish a direct contact with our workers. One or two of our outstanding leaders had- made their permanent home in Germany for that purpose. And those of us who had settled in America wrote in our Newspaper, ‘Gadar’, published in that country, that Germany would soon go to war with England, and, therefore, they must be ready to use the opportunity to make the final effort to liberate India. We used to know about it in our prison in the Andamans.

I have given a brief account of this past history here so that the reader may realise what bitter disappointment the news of war brought to us because, though we had known that the war was coming for many years now, it came at a time when we were prisoners in the Andamans, and as such helpless to make any use of it as we had planned it to do in the long past. It is unnecessary to dwell further on our ambitions and plans at the time.

Even in this helpless state of mind and body, I determined to take full advantage of this rare opportunity in the life-time of a nation to further the cause near my heart in such ways as I could adopt for that purpose.

In the meanwhile, the Superintendent himself told me one day, while he had come to inspect the prison, that war had broken out in Europe on an international scale and Turkey had joined the side of Germany in that war. It was decided, he added, to raise fund in Port Blair to support the war and start a magazine to which writers in that place were to be invited to contribute. He asked me to give an article or a poem for that magazine.

I wrote a long poem in English and gave it to the Superintendent as he had asked for it, From time to time I used to write short poems which the officers of the place were not unfamiliar with. I doubted, however, if this poem, considering the feelings it had expressed, would pass muster with them. But the projected magazine never saw the light of the day, and the matter rested there.

However, when I learnt that Turkey had gone over to Germany in that war, I had to change the plans I had made to take advantage of that war for the freedom of India. The siding of Turkey with Germany as against England, roused all my suspicions about Pan-Islamism and I scented in that move a future danger to India, +++(5)+++ I discovered that Turkey in this war had made it possible for Germany to stretch her long arm to India and create a critical situation in India itself. This was indeed, a circumatance favourable to my designs. For then England was bound to grant India all the rights that she would demand, or India herself could wrest them as the result of the exhaustion of England and Germany both, battered as they would be in this terrible combat between two mighty foes, not unlike the fight of two powerful elephants joined in life-&-death struggle with each other. Broken, battered, bleeding and exhausted they will lie on the field with victory to neither, and with full advantage to others who knew to profit by the situation. But I also feared that in this grim struggle between two mighty powers the Muslims in India might find their devil’s opportunity to invite the Muslim hordes from the North to ravage India and to conquer it, instigated in thai effort by the machinations in Russia.

Thinking calmly over all these near and remote consequences of the war, I settled my own line of action, and, as the beginning of it, I resolved to tend a long letter on the subject to the Government of India, I cannot here give my reader what line of action I had settled in my mind to follow. But I may summarise in outline the letter I had sent to the Government of India.

The Superintendent agreed to forward the letter and I wrote in it as follows; I Wrote that I felt it my duty, as intimately connected with the revolutionary movement in India, to inform the Government, in its distracted state of mind, what I thought about the present situation in India vis-a-vis the war between England and Germany. It was our ideal, I Wrote, to win independence for India, and it remained our ideal even that day. But we were not sworn to violent means alone to achieve that independence. If any other sure means were available to us before for that purpose, we would not have gone in at all for terrorist and revolutionary methods.

What was true about the means was equally true about the end. Politics and Government had for their aim to endow man with the rights of citizenship, and to create in each country representative institutions to maintain those rights by the method of law and order. We had for our goal the creation of the parliament of man and the federation of the world. We wanted this federation to be the guardian of freedom and peace, justice and equal rights all over the world. All distinctions of race and language, of creed and colour, of territory and boundaries, ought to be submerged in this parliament and this federation, for the unification of man, and for the promotion of peace and goodwill on earth.

Hence, we were friends to all political institutions and arrangements which promoted this cause. We welcomed them as steps on the path leading up to the temple of peace. We were not enemies of the groups of nations or of empires that materially helped the cause by a union of countries in a common bond of loyalty and government. The countries in the Union and the Empire had to be endowed with freedom and self government as means to their progress and prosperity.

These being our principles of action, we were ready and willing to be friends of the British Empire if it equipped India with a form of government vital for her freedom and her progress, and commensurate with her capacity to run such a government in the peculiar situation in which she happened to be placed at the time. If this became a practical proposition, from Ireland on the one side to India on the other, an empire would emerge from the process, which can no longer be the British Empire. Until it assumed any other suitable name, it might well be called “The Aryan Empire.” +++(5)+++

If the statesmen of the Empire had the vision and the daring to effect the change, their first task would be to raise the continent of India to the status of colonial self government, if they could not see their way, in the midst of the war, to grant her the independence she desired. And as the beginning of that self-government, they must, in the Central Legislative Council at Delhi, accept the principle of the elected majority and of representative government through that majority. If this was achieved, if we felt certain that it was going to be achieved, we, the revolutionaries of the past, would stop all our violent sanctions, and help England whole-heartedly in her present war with Germany.

Let the Government give us a chance to prove our bona fides. Let them release us to convince the people that England was willing to break the chains that had held India in thrall. We pledged our word of honour that we would exert our utmost to bring recruits to the Indian army in large numbers that would equip her to stave off the invasion of India from the North by the forces of Afghanistan and Turkey, and to march to any from that needed her presence to fight the foe and beat him. We would offer ourselves as volunteers to serve in that army in defence of India and for the victory of England. Release us, I said, equip India with colonial self- government, and win the loyalty and love of her people. That would assure to Government all the co-operation that it needed from the people in the present crisis. Let it not miss that splendid opportunity. In case the Government suspected, I wrote in conclusion, my motive in writing the letter, I offered to do without any release for myself personally. Let them release all the political prisoners in the country leaving me alone in my own cell in the Andamans. I shall rejoice in their freedom as if it was my own. The Government was right in suspecting me; perhaps, when free, I might lead an agitation to break the peace in India. I had not written the letter to seek my own liberation, or to compel them to set me free along with other political prisoners involved in similar or the same political conspiracies. Hence I had made the proposal to keep me back and set all others free.

This letter, in substance, I had forwarded to the Government of India. All other Governments were setting their political prisoners free at that time. Even political prisoners in Ireland were set free. I had given in my letter all the instances of such liberation as had come to my knowledge then. I was not a fool to conclude that my letter would be the charter of our freedom. But I knew, that apart from its immediate effect, letters of this kind had told in the long run, along with agitation in the country to support them.

I wrote this letter in September 1914 and I received Government’s reply to it at the end of December. The answer was brief. It informed me that the Governor General had read the letter and noted all its contents, although no official reply could be sent to it for the present. In the present circumstances of the situation, Government found it impossible to give effect to my suggestions.

I had reason to infer, even from this brief answer, that I had helped by it the efforts of far-seeing leaders in the country to win more rights for India. Government had known by it that we revolutionaries and conspirators were behind the demands of the constitutionalists in the country. And it must have exercised some pressure upon it to be willing to listen to them. “Give us rights and take our help and co-operation.” “No rights, no co-operation.” That was my plea all along. I impressed it upon my colleagues in the prison, and, to the end of the war, I acted up to that precept If the political prisoners were released with the concessions to back them up, they were to co-operate in filling the army with young recruits and help Government to win the war. I persuaded many to that view though I had to linger alone in this prison.

With the beginning of the war and for a month and a half after I had sent the letter, myself and the officers of the jail were on most cordial terms. But an occasion arose when a sharp altercation became inevitable. For as news about the war came on to me, I passed it on to other prisoners. The early reports of the war were, all, of the advance of Germany. The officers sought to conceal them. Mr. Barrie behaved very queerly at times. He began telling them of victories of England all over the field. He spun long yams about them. His motive was that we should not lose faith in British power and in its prestige over the Empire. The moment we felt that these were tottering to their fall, there would be, he imagined, riots and confusion all over the settlement. That was Mr. Barrie’s fear about it. Knowing this full well, two or three of the political prisoners, who were his henchmen, outdid him in showing up Germany as a weak and wicked nation, and in belauding England as an embodiment of, righteous indignation against Germany’s betrayal. For they received the reward of this praise in this world, at the very moment, and in the prison of the Andamans itself. The Lord God of the Silver Jail, Mr. Barrie, relieved them of hard labour; let them mingle freely with other prisoners; and appointed them as Mukadams. Two or four of us had proved quite useless for that task. For we could not tell the prisoners that England, like the Knight of chivalry and romance, was out to save the lambs of Belgium and other smaller countries from the jaws of the tiger that was Germany. We did expose the selfish ambition of Germany for a place in the sun, but we did not shield England from its greed for power, and its jealousy of Germany’s growing might. We did not observe the day of German victory as a day of mourning. We gave the news as it came to us without gloss or criticism. Only we pointed out how each move on the battlefield would affect the politics of India. We felt that it was a fine opportunity to enlighten the prison- world of the Andamans on the politics of India, and of the burning question of the hour.

For, as soon as war began in Europe, all the people in the Andamans, as in India, felt an excitement and a thrill passing through them. The excitement in the Andamans was not due to any interest in politics, or any anxiety for the future of their country, as it was due to the expectation that it would mean their freedom from the prison. It was selfish desire that was its cause. Hence the future of the war had become a matter of personal interest to them. Even the most ignorant among them knew stories of old Emperors and Rajas when their Kingdoms were overthrown, and the prisoners had won their freedom. And these stories from the legendary or the historical past had become today the gossip ofthe entire colony. And from these instances in the past, they drew conclusions to suit their own wishes in the present. A certain king was killed and his kingdom was won by another. And from this instance they inferred that if the Emperor of Germany was made captive, the war would come to an end; and if England was defeated, all the prisoners would be at once set free. On the floating wave of self-delusion, the prisoners sailed their ship of hope from day-to-day.

When the warders passed their cells at night on their usual rounds, lantern in hand, the prisoners would anxiously ask for news of war. And the self-sufficient ignorant warder would tell them anything that came to his lips as its innermost news. Drawing upon the talks in the town, the warder would paint before their eyes a scene of the British Monarch standing on the top of a hill and watching his own army. He wears the crown on his head, and a sword dangles at his side. What if the German Emperor suddenly shot him with an arrow? But he would not do so. For, was he not the son-in-law of the English King? His wife, the Empress, would come in, and stop her husband from it, will she not? Some such guesses and fantasies they would weave from their minds and discuss them with hilarity among themselves. It was funny to hear them talking thus. The warder in these chats with his prisoners hardly knew how time had flown, how three hours had sped, and his patrolling was at an end. The prisoner did not feel the arduousness of the labour on Kolu, while he was wrapt in such conversation. For the jolliest of them, feeling the heaviness ofthe handle they were pushing along the rut, regaled themselves with the exclamation, “Friend Kolu, turn and turn. It is only for a few days now that we shall be working on you. None will turn you. Then round and round Then rest and rust” One would set the tune rod the rest would make the chorus.“Yes. dear Kolu. turn; for we are to be with you far a few days now” In that frenzied mood, they would turn the wheel faster and faster, and often did the work of an hour in half the time. This Was true not only of prisoners on hard labour, but also of petty officers and jamadars ordered to watch on there. They themselves were prisoners on twenty to twenty-five years’ term of imprisonment Tindals and petty officers used somehow to finish their duty as supervisors-three to four hours at the most-and spent the rest of the day mourning their lot. But since the outbreak of the war, they brought some news from the world without and kept on discussing it with the veteran convicts and drew a pleasant picture of instant freedom by the overthrow of British Rule in India as the result of the conquest of Great Britain by Germany. They tattered the news to pieces, even as the Kolu would crush the coconut pieces into oil by turning round and round on them. While he was wrapt in this talk, another petty officer came up and then the former realised that his time was over and he must leave the scene. “Three hours gone, how quickly time passes, the hour has sounded. I must leave. I knew not how it had gone.”Such was the mutual greeting between the relieving and the retiring petty officer in those days. They had forgotten their task of persecuting the poor prisoners; the hard discipline of the prison had relaxed: the petty officer and the prisoners had developed the spirit of comradeship. and the tie was the common news about the war and its Idle forecasts. Otherwise they used to quarrel as soon as they saw one another, they would growl like dogs; they began abasing each other; and there used to be resentment and discontent all round The war had changed this: there was eagerness and curiosity on the one side, and the willing loquacity on the other. Whatever be the news for the day; the only end to it was, “Well, only a few days now. and we are free” That was the form of leave- taking between the petty officer and his ward.

I resolved to take full advantage of this eagerness for war- aews —oog the prisoners, though I knew that it had no deeper roof ta their heart than the selfish longing to be free. But the awakening should not be allowed to spend Itself on nothing. I desired to plant in their hearts love for their country and interest in the politics with which her future was so intimately bound up. Every one approached me for news. Even the Mussulmans, who bore me a grudge on account of the Shuddhi movement, were reconciled to me by this common need. And they listened to me with patience and devotion. As for the political prisoners who had allied themselves with Mr. Barrie, they gave them news about the war after the pattern of their master. But I myself and others along with me, told them frankly what we knew about it And this bait of daily and faithful news had caught; it made them learn to read and write as I guided them.

Among the millions and millions of India’s teeming population, the whole world was divided into two or three States. If one happened to be a Hindu, the boundaries of the world did not stretch for him beyond England on the one side and Kabul on the other. All his knowledge of Geography and politics did not go beyond this range. He was surprised to ieam that there were other kingdoms ia the world besides these. He knew them not even by their names. The Britisher and the Afghan-Ungrez and the Amir-these were his familiar figures. If one were a Mussulman, he w ould add to them the name of Turkey. So that, for days together after the war had staned. they be lieved that it was a war between England and Turkey -between the King of England and the Sultan of Turkey. They never thought that there could be any other kingdom on this habitable globe. They were familiar with Mussulmans on the one hand and Britishers on the other. Taking advantage of the war, I asked them to repeat the names of all countries in the world, to understand the map of the world, and the maps of several countries along with it, before I agreed to give tbem any news. With a piece of brick I used to draw these outline maps on the whitewashed walls of the prison- moms and explain them to the prisoners. My political colleagues helped me considerably in that work. Those who would never learn geography for anything in the world, became its apt pupils for the sake of the news that they wanted from me. Germany. France, Austria, Russia, Egypt. Belgium and Servia became to them asfamiliar names as England, Afghanistan and Turkey. I had made them repeat the names and had pointed out their location on the maps I drew for them. And I explained to them the news of war in the light of Geography that they had thus studied. To the cleverer ones among them, I explained the constitution of these countries. They knew no other word before than the King. Hence they interpreted the news in the light of that term. The King of France had to fall back; the king of America was angry-that was the terminology they employed, And when any-one of us told them that there was no king of France or America, their question was, “Who fought the war then,” Their idea of warfare they had derived from what little they knew of legendary lore, from the stories they had heard from the Mahabharata for instance. The war or the battle was to them nothing better than a combat or a duel between two rival princes. The King of Russia was weak, he was not strong of thews and sinews; the King of Germany was a giant in strength and hence he would crack the King of Russia like a betel-nut. That was their surmise and hope. So whenever they wanted to weigh and balance victory and defeat between the parties, they measured their strength by the personal prowess of their kings. How does the King of Belgium or any other king fight? That was the typical question they asked. Is he a fine rider? Does he know horsemanship? The manner in which they described the Kaiser of Germany was very amusing. He was, they told us, a finely built man, almost possessing the physical strength and form of our Bhima. He shattered with the blows of his fisticuff the gates of fortresses. Once he held the King of France by his neck like a cat and hurled him down. Who was taller-the Czar of Russia or the Emperor of Germany? -I remember clearly one prisoner putting the question to me. I told him that the Russians, as a rule, were taller and broader than the Germans. And his face showed bewilderment, for he was doubtful, how, in these circumstances, Germany could ever beat Russia? I wanted to drive this notion about the king from the mind of my listeners. I wanted them to grasp what was the State and the politics of the State. What was the Republican form of the State, and what u constitutional monarchy? I told them broadly how the people were governed; who made laws for them; who declared war or peace; and who made treaties. I further explained to them, in the simplest terms possible, what was a representative government and a legislature, and the relation between them, and a monarch or a president of a Republic. I further told them the difference between the monarch and the president and how France and America were Republican States. I enjoined upon them to remember these facts well before I would give them the news that they wanted. Within one year, most of them gave correct answers on these points. They could understand the difference between international and national politics, and the relation between the two, as also the geographical importance of these states dotted all over the world. And the more they knew, the more I gave them to know. And during these years they showed extreme eagerness to know everything about the war. For the knowledge of geography, maps, and politics had made the news so vivid and interesting to them. They became so enamoured of it, that before long, they would themselves locate the news on the map and ask me to enlighten them upon it. The temptation for news made them procure from outside newspapers for themselves and read them. This work I did for them during the duration of the war.

While I was busy teaching them the geography of the world and widening their knowledge of it, I was particular to teach them more about the geography and the map of India, of its political conditions, and its situation in the world around us. The prisoners felt at first a strange fascination for Germany. They had lisped the word English too often to like it. For he, the prisoner felt, never treated him well, and Germany, he concluded, if it beat England, was sure to set him free. Hence he did not like any-one denouncing Germany. So when I explained to my political friends as well as to other prisoners the possible conscquences of Germany’s conquest of India, I made it clear to them that it was a mistake to suppose that Germany would not harass and persecute India, and that it would be no advantage to us to change one master for another. It was up to us to be ready to play our cards well during the fluctuations of the war, and it would not do for us to be counting on the victory of Germany to win freedom for ourselves. This fact they found too unpalatable to digest. And then I would narrate to them the story of the potter and his donkey. One potter fell, and another mounted the seat. What was it to the miserable donkey, he remained a donkey all the same. So it was no good speculating on the victory of Germany. It was foolish to think that it would make any difference in our status. I then explained to them what must be done by us to reap the fullest advantage for India from this great world war, and what was the advantage that we were likely to reap from it. I convinced the prisoners that if Germany became the ruler of India she would ride rough-shod over us. But when I said that Turkey or Afghanisthan would mete out the same treatment to us, the Mussulman section would demur to that statement. For the Sultan of Turkey was a god to them. How many stories and legends had grown round him as the Kalipha in their sacred writings! They were taught in their cradle to worship the name of that Sultan with feelings of sanctity and reverence. That personage was to invade India and I said that his rule will bring no good to India. What a blasphemy to say so. That the rule of the Sultan over India would be a foreign rule was a proposition beyond their understanding. If a moulvi prisoner in our jail who knew something of history were told of the invasion of the Arabs over Persia; of Persians over the Pathans; of Pathans over Pathans; and of all these together over the Mussulmans of India; and if one further enumerated to him the horrors they had perpetrated over their coreligionists in India, he would still maintain that the invasion of India by Turkey and the establishment of the Sultan’s power in India could not but be a blessing to her. The fanaticism of the Mussulman disqualified him to think nationally and to be a patriot of India, and if this was helped by the ignorance of the world history, then he was bound to think fanatically. Every Mussulman knew the name of the King- Emperor of India. But the Kaiser was a strange name to him. He used to hear every day strange stories of him, and to convey them from mouth to mouth. They wondered how the Kaiser had become so mighty, and discussed the matter between themselves. At last they came to the conclusion that the fact was due to his alliance with Sultan of Turkey who was the anointed of the lord and sacred to them.

The Sultan is to rule India, now Hindus, see to it, that you turn Mussulmans

The war began after the Shuddhi movement. With the participation of Turkey in that war, the Mussulmans, disabled by the Shuddhi movement, got the name of the Sultan as a fresh weapon in their hands to make a renewed effort to convert Hindus to their faith. And they began to talk openly to the Hindu prisoners as follows: “Germany was sure to beat England and conquer India. The Sultan of Turkey would personally crown the German Kaiser as the Emperor of India, and the Muslims will be a power in India. As such Mussulmans would get high positions and big jobs in the Indian Empire. Those, who would not be Muslims then, were going to be severely punished.”

When they brought the report of this open talk to me I used to ask them what was the man who talked thus. They said that it had been printed in a Urdu Paper which was available in the bazar. With wry and long faces the poor prisoners would come to me to know if there was any truth in it. “Was it a fact, Bada Babu, that the Sultan of Turkey was to be the ruler of India and that he was going to grant amnesty to all the Muslim prisoners in India?” So they would ask me often, and add that on this ground they were being exhorted to convert themselves into Mussulmans. I lost no time in exposing the hollowness of these stories, and in showing up those who had helped to spread them all over the colony. So, slowly but surely, the prisoners had learnt a great deal about Turkey and had measured her at its proper worth. Whenever the Mussulman Moulvi prisoners bragged of Turkey, they flung into their faces what they had learnt from me. They quoted sentence after sentence from my talk to them on the subject and silenced them. “Your Sultan is no tiger but is the tiger’s skin stuffed with saw-dust. A small State like that of Bulgaria beat him hollow; Servia compelled him to bite the dust; Greece succeeded in throwing off his yoke. +++(4)+++ During the last ten years, poor man is being twisted round and round and finds his throne tottering. This Sultan of lathe and straw was to invade India; one blow from England was enough to finish him. What if Germany adopts him? What value has that in the hierarchy of nations? If he was, indeed, so powerful, why did he not go against England so long? To say of this man of shreds and patches that he has made Germany mighty and will bring her victory! Where is the Kaiser of Germany and where the Sultan of Turkey? Where is the Royal elephant of the Gods, and where the sorry nag of a beggar!” The Hindu prisoners used to strip them of their self-conceit by flinging these words at them.

I used to instruct the more literate among us by comparing the strength of Germany with that of the Sultan of Turkey. I used to give them facts and figures about the army, the air-force, and the dread-noughts of the Germans, and make the whole position clear to them from statistics and tables. I told the Mussulmans that they should not mislead themselves. Whatever victory Turkey would achieve, would be due, I told them, to its reinforcement by Germany. German arms and ammunitions, German instruction in the strategy of warfare and German generalship constituted the real might of Turkey. I gave them all the information on the subject as I got it from true sources. Whatever news came to my hands from time to time, I explained it fully to them. We used to study and discuss these things in our weekly and peripatetic meetings and lectures about which I have mentioned in a former chapter. I then lectured to them on Turkey and the activities of the new party led by Enver Pasha. It was known as the party of Young Turkey many of whose members had taken their education in France and Germany. I had bestowed due praise on the efforts of leaders like. Enver Baig to revive Turkey and put a new spirit in her. I had also told how it would benefit India if Turkey were to join her forces with Germany in its war with England. I explained it to them according to my view-point then, and I expressed my full sympathy with the Turkish movement. But I would not tolerate exaggeration and empty bragging. Hence the Mussulmans were always gnashing their teeth at me.

I had to expose them often by humour and laughter. Once, for a whole week, the Mussulmans at Port Blair and in this prison spread the rumour that the German Kaiser had embraced Mohomedanism. The Sultan had plainly told the Kaiser that he should expect no military assistance from him till he had converted himself to Islam. “I stay with you on the battlefield only on that condition; otherwise I withdraw with my whole army. I go back to my country.” That was the ultimatum, so went the rumour, that the Sultan had given to the Kaiser. The Kaiser was alarmed and he became a Mussulman! This fib they uttered before the Hindu prisoners in order to spite them. “Was there any truth in this?” they went about asking. At last, one of the enthusiasts in our camp who was an Arya Samajist said to me that this bubble had to be pricked. I told him, “My dear friend, how can we prove or disprove it? You know that a lie must be met by a lie; a canard can only be exploded by a canard; and I will tell you how to do it. To-morrow as soon as you come back to the prison from your work, go on proclaiming with as much emphasis as you can that the “Kaiser” had become an “Arya”. The Mussulman Arya Samajists in the Andamans pronounce the word ‘Arya’ with a long ‘a’. Whenever you see Muslim prisoners in conference and chatting together, go and gather together and say out ‘The Kaiser has become an ‘Arya’. And if they asked for the proof, fire off that you had read it in the Bazaar in a Hindi Paper."+++(4)+++

The Kaiser becomes an Arya Samajist

And it was done. The news went round the prison the following evening that the Kaiser had become an Arya Samajist. The Mussulmans lay low and sought to discover what it was all about. They found out at last that the news was brought into the prison by a Hindu warder. On the third day, they met him in a block where they were to do common duty for the night, and the Hindu warder, without waiting to be questioned by his colleagues, announced to Hindu prisoners that the German Kaiser had turned an Arya Samajist. The Mussulmans became fidgety over it, and questioned him what proof he had about the story. The Hindu warder asked them promptly what proof they had to say that he had become a Mussulman. They said that they had read the news in an Urdu Paper, to which the Hindu retorted that he had read it in a Hindi Paper. They asked him to produce the Hindi Paper and the Hindu asked them to get the Urdu Paper. The Mussulmans, so discomfited, began to shout that Arya was the religion of the Kaffirs. Nothing daunted, the Hindu replied that Islam was the religion of the Heathens. So it had nearly come to blows, but there it stopped.

The report of the quarrel was next day taken to the jamadar. He was also one of those who had believed and declared that the Kaiser was converted to Islam. But what was the poor man to do when every time that they said that the Kaiser had become a Mussulman, the Hindus were ready with the retort that he had become an Arya Samajist. Ultimately the Mussulmans ceased talking about it, and the rumour was effectively scotched.

The fact of Turkey entering the war on the side of Germany against England, fired the imagination of the Muslims; and man, woman and child began to dream of Muslim Raj in India. And when occasionally they came to hear that the Amir of Afghanistan had made a common cause with the Germans and the Turks, their enthusiasm knew no bounds. The Pathans were so enraptured by the prospect that their tongues began to wag like the croaking of frogs in a pool of water before the advent of the monsoon. If one Pathan raised one rumour, another multiplied it tenfold, and so long as Enver Pasha was in the field, he was reported to have decimated thousands of British regiments or taken the city of Basra. About the Amir of Afghanistan, the reports were still more extravagant. It was not enough for him to cross the Indus, but he must knock to-day at the door of Lahore, and march another day on Sir hind. The petty officers, moving in and out of prison, brought in fantastic news that produced a convulsion among te prisoners. One told us tat the Amir had taken the city of Lahore. Another reported tat Kaiser had seized London. And, when asked for confirmation, they both excused themselves by pointing to this Munshi or that who had given them the news, or by saying that they had read it in an Urdu newspaper.

But behind the ridiculous behaviour of the Pathans there was one quality which I never failed to impress upon those who simply laughed at them. I always asked my Hindu brethren not to forget how enthused they were, to a man, over the prospect of Muslim Raj in India, or over the invasion of India by a Muslim power. This pride of race and religion was a virtue worthy of emulation, and it was this pride that would instantly translate itself into action at the right moment and with the right opportunity.+++(5)+++ The Hindus lacked this pride, this fervour, this unity of action, and, therefore, they had suffered.

This was a matter of compliment for the Pathans but was full of menace to the Hindus, and the Hindus must be ever vigilant about it. Eternal vigilance was the price of liberty. Also they had to bear it well in mind that the Mussulman imbibed this religious fervour and this spirit of Pan-Islamism with his mother’s milk. In every Muslim household he was taught from his childhood to love his religion and to stand by the Muslim Raj. What had the Hindus to show in comparison with this fervour, with this ardent, burning passion? Not one in ten thousand Hindus knew or cared to know what was Hindusthan, what was Hindu power, Hindu Raj, or the meaning of the term Hindu. What then of a common bond of sympathy among them? The Pathans had, at the moment, only one place to call their own and that was Kabul. But they swear by it at all times, while they eat, drink and sleep. The Hindus have a place which is their own, but very few know of it, and know that the place goes by the name of Nepal. Crores of them cannot tell if the Nepalese is a Hindu or a Muslim. And the educated classes among them think and are found to declare that Nepal is no part of Hindusthan and that it was a different countiy altogether, more akin to China, Persia and Afghanisthan and as foreign as Servia. I have seen some of them holding an argument with me on the subject.

Whenever in my talks with the prisoners in the Andamans, I maintained that Nepal, being a Hindu Kingdom, can be made a good nucleus of Hindu Sangathan, they showed their doubt about it, and presumed to imagine that Nepal was, like Tibet, inhabited by primitive people, and was an insignificantly small country of foreigners. I was hard put to it to convince them by argument that the truth was far otherwise.

As I conveyed the news of war, from day to day, to my fellow- prisoners, plain and unvarnished, as it came to me, the partisans of Tuikey, our friends-the Mussulmans -often showed me their bitterest hatred. And for the same reason, when I presented the English side of the war as faithfully, Mr. Barrie and the Superintendent were equally put out with me. The Superintendent at the time was a jingo imperialist, and he looked upon my work as an act of wickedness. He watched me with a severe eye as an enemy of his country . Just at the time the Andamans felt the first shock of the war; the report had come that a German submarine was plying in its waters, and the officers had been arranging the defence of Port Blair against the attack of the enemy. The prisoners in the jail were all put upon the work of preparing tarpaulins and similar material to shield the British regiments from the sudden onslaught. The officers became still more adverse to me in that crisis. For, in order to prepare gunny-bags, the prisoners had to be put on the task of picking oakum and work five or six times as much as they had done before.

They had each to pick ten pounds of oakum every day, where before they picked only two pounds of it. The prisoners were put to that hard work under pain of severe thrashing. The political prisoners were few in number - only those on transportation for life. All the rest were sent out to India after our third strike. The political prisoners were themselves appointed by Mr. Barrie to supervise the work, and to exact it from the prisoners. If we proved helpful to the authorities in exacting work from the prisoners, there was eveiy chance of our being relieved of all work and of being appointed warders. Barrie saw this and delegated the task to us. He told us “Do nothing, but see to it that these youngsters give us their full day’s work.” And this device of Mr. Barrie proved a success. Unfortunately, the prisoners given in my charge, I discovered, could give no more than three pounds a day each, of picked oakum. And they complained that they were not bound to give more work as the present war was not theirs and India had nothing to do with it. “Take from us, of course, our normal quota of two pounds a day. We are bound to give it. But to compel us to turn out ten pounds because of the war, is a task that we are not going to put up with.” What answer could I give them on this? I myself thought that they were in the right. None dare thrash the prisoners under my charge. The prisoners knew it full well. Therefore, they would do their normal quota and something more, and stopped there. In the evening Mr. Barrie found out that my section had done much less than ten pounds for every prisoner, but had done much more than his share of two pounds a day. Mr. Barrie, therefore, began his barking. He stripped the Tindal of his belt and made things hot for me. In the night the Mussulman petty officers reported to him that I was preaching sedition to my section of prisoners. Next day the Superintendent deposed me from my new office, and, by way of punishment, put me on picking oakum. I put on my strip of suspender and began the work. At the end of the day I could hardly do one pound with the utmost of my labour. When it was found that I did just as much work as I could, and would not receive any help to fill my quota from other prisoners in my section, the other prisoners also ceased overworking themselves. I was, therefore, segregated from them and put again in my cell on the top-floor of block number seven. I was asked there to resume my task of picking oakum.

The tindal, who had complained to Mr. Barrie about my preaching sedition to the section in my charge, had himself sworn against the Government before me by the name of God. Other taletellers had done the same. But I did not report against them. They attributed to me all sorts of offences and continued inventing stories about me, because they were sure that I was not the man to betray them. It became easy for them, by these means, to curry favour with the authorities of the jail to feather their own nests.

It was at this time, as I have already mentioned the fact in the Chapter on Shuddhi movement that the Mussulman warders and petty officers were set on to harass me for hours together by indecent abuse within the hearing of those who had come to look up to me with reverence and affection. They were given full freedom to talk about me in foul language all over the prison, and they continued to pester me all along.

But then incidents happened one after another which encouraged me to carry on my work even in the depressing atmosphere of my prison-life.

The submarine Emden and the havoc it worked

The first event which diverted the attention of the officers at Port Blair from us, and consequently brought us some relief from the troubles described above, was the advent of the Emden in the sea around the Andamans. Soon came the report that the Emden had bombarded Madras. The authorities tried to keep it a dead secret, but this made wilder rumours spread all over the settlement. Never in the whole history of these islands had the officers found themselves so militarily unprepared and in such panicky atmosphere. There was hurry and bustle all over the place to rally the armed forces to protect the islands from similar attack. Next to the prison they set up an arsenal and an ammunition depot. Trenches were dug out all round the prison-wall and British soldiers were posted in them to guard the prison. A regiment of British soldiers was ordered out from Calcutta. The officers were detailed to guard the shore day and night. Within a few days British warships or men-of-war were sailing on the seas around the Andamans. French submarines and Russian Dreadnoughts touched at Port Blair and passed on. The naval officers on board these warships visited the jail from time to time. The Captain of a Russian submarine, on his visit to the jail, had a long talk with me. He said to me that Europe still remembered that I was a prisoner in the Andamans. The visits of these officers and their occasional talk were not without their consolation to me in the solitude of my cell.

These movements made it clear to us that in the strategy of the war in Europe the enemy had marked out these islands as a point of attack in the Eastern waters. Recalling to my mind the activities of the Abhinav Bharat Mandal and the other Indian revolutionaiy societies in the West, I had guessed that if at all war were to break out in Europe between Germany and England; these islands were bound to be the point of attack in the movement of the war from the West to the East. Mr. Barrie and other officers of the jail tried their level best to keep us in the dark about the movements of the troops along our shores, But I had divined, in spite of the secrecy maintained by them, that the Emden was hovering about the place to level its attack on the Andamans. News filtered in, that it was seen approaching our shores and that it had created a consternation all over the settlement. The harbour of Fort Blair was not of such value to her. Why then did the submarine ply in these waters? I felt it was to bombard the Silver Jail and to set all of us free. I can say freely now how a doctor friend had managed to send me a message in the Andamans that the Abhinav Bharat and other revolutionary societies in Europe had contacted the Kaiser and arranged that a submarine should come over here to bombard the place and release us. It was then to rush into Burma and help to create a violent revolution In India by all arms and ammunition necessary for that task. The ordinary prisoners were full of high hopes. They changed the slogan of “a free days now” into the password of “today or tomorrow.” “Brother, today or tomorrow we shall be free”, that was a mode of greeting that had become common among them.

On a sudden, one would come panting and report to us that the German submarine had come and was sighted by the officers. They had turned their binoculars in her direction and were busy spying her. movements. The Europeans on the island had left their bungalows and were running truly enough helter-skelter. The German submarine and the German navy had, for some time, become a scare to the handful of British soldiers posted to guard these islands. And they feared that in the event of such a crisis, the prisoners themselves would turn against the European settlers. And this feeling was not altogether groundless, for the number of soldiers and the amount of arms and ammunitions in that place were not sufficient to guard the place against an ordinary riot. The Andamans was no more than a drop in the occean. What then would he their plight if a German Dreadnought or a German submarine were to bombard the place in such a helpless position? But brought up in the traditions of a great Empire. the Britishers held together and had decided to guard the place at all cost. They did not yield themselves to panic hut made full preparations to hold the foe at bay. That the flying visit of a submarine should create a panic among the wives and children of the Europeans on that island was no surprise to me. The surprise of it was that a handful of them should maintain their hold over us for four continuous and trying years of the war, and in the midst of thousands of prisoners and other people on the island who regarded them as their enemies and whose faith in their power was completely shaken by the catastrophe. Not a coconut plant was allowed to be uprooted from its soil, not ft prisoner escaped from his daily quota of two pounds of picked oakum, or the portion of woven strand that was his usual labour. The same regulations, the same discipline, the same round of labour, the same order in the prison and the outside, went on with the regularity of the clock-work.

This nature of an Englishman, this tenacity of will, this pugnacity of temper, the Peshwas had failed to discern in the decline of their power. And today, as then, the population of Hindusthan is ignorant of it as ever. It is this trait in us that filled me with dismay, in the thick of the war rumours floated on to us that that day London had fallen; and that the German Dreadnoughts were bound to attack and take the Andamans overnight. The prisoners were dead sure about the authenticity of the news. They had, of course, no answer to give when we questioned them on the point. They would tell us that they had got it from this, that or another source. Some said it came to them from the waiter or the cook of a particular olficer. Another said that it was the head-cook of the Chief Commissioner who had given the news to him. He had himself seen the Chief Commissioner break open the post and reading the letter had dropped down in the chair, and dashed his hat on the table. Mr. Barrie was seen in tears, and his little daughter had thrust her head into his knees, and was lost in fear.

Such wore the bits of news purveyed to us by the prisoners, and such were the proofs tluit they produced to support tlicm. I was reminded by them of the alarming and false news in the days of the last Peshwa, Bajirao II. What reporters were those on whom the Peshwa depended. One correspondent reported to hint of the big victory won by Yeshwantrao Holkar over the English and in support of the news the wise-aero stressed the fact(?) that the political resident at Garpir, while reading a communique, had flung his hut on the floor!+++(4)+++ The same evidence and the same inference still obsessed the mind of the people of India even today. The Britisher has not gone and wears his hat fast on his head. We are the fools for all that.

Indeed during the last hundred and fifty years of British rule in India, there has been no change whatever in these traits of British character. They arc born politicians, strong-willed administrators and tough fighters. And we have not changed either. We have remained the same gullible people, incapable of appreciating British character and ignorant of the ways and means to effectively confront them. The Britishers have not forgotten much during the last hundred and fifty years. And we have not learnt very much from them. The word-for-word report conveyed to me of the sahib dashing his hat on the ground, spontaneously made me retort “Fools! the sahib was no Indian to do it. He was an Englishman and no coward. You would find one in a thousand Britishers whom you could call a coward. The rest would not budge an inch. They fight to the last and win. Behold how among a thousand lambs like you, five of them live like lions, brave, fearless and stern. A sahib to dash his hat on the ground for fear! Nay the weather was warm and he did it, Barri’s daughter to thrust her head between the knees because she was frightened! No, she must be sleepy because she played too much, and was dosing. How do you know that the news of the submarine had scared her?”

Though it was foolish to be elated by the news, true or false of British reverses and to exclaim, “O, brother, we are free, today or tomorrow,” it was no less short-sighted to affirm that, while kingdoms and empires were tumbling down in the earthquake of war, the god in India would stand firm on its pedestal, and the shock of the war could never make him totter and fall. My information of movements abroad, the hovering of the German submarine about the Andamans, and the intensive British preparations to defend them, made me conclude that it was equally foolish to say that nothing would come out of it, that we must ever remain weak, and rot and weep forever in this jail. I still believed that the Emden was plying in these waters according to plan, and the plan was no other than to get us free. Once or twice I felt that the event was imminent. For the Emden, moving around, had almost hemmed us in. The wireless messages sent by the Chief Commissioner to Calcutta for monetary help were duly intercepted and released by the Emden, and when the ship laden with money was on her way to the Andamans, the submarine caught her and looted the treasure. The Andamans felt keenly the shortage of foodstuffs once or twice; for the ships could not ply the water, for months together, from Rangoon, Calcutta and Madras to this place, in this situation none could say definitely how long we could hold out, and when we would be compelled to surrender to the enemy. And then?…….

Not to be provided against this contingency would have been a reckless attitude of mind. For, then, we would be missing an opportunity of a life-time. So we began thinking out what we were to do if we were suddenly caught in this deluge, if the German submarine bombarded the Andamans and captured it, and if, in consequence, the prisoners of the Silver Jail were all forthwith let loose………

The plans of the submarine were clear to my mind as I knew the movements of the Indian revolutionaries abroad. In that light I made the position clear to my political colleagues as well as to other prisoners in my confidence. And I prepared a line of action to meet such an emergency. I communicated it to all of them, that they might be ready for the day and be not caught napping. “Do not believe like fools that the Britishers can be so easily overthrown”, I told them. But restricting ourselves to the Andamans, and in case the Emden succeeds in capturing and turning it into a centre for a possible revolution in India, we must be prepared to defend ourselves and do our duty to our country. We are not to be misled by foolish hope or useless despair. Whatever we decide upon, we must decide by wise and selfless attitude of mind. It was my effort, during these trying days of doubt and hope to awaken in the prisoners the sense of caution, alertness and duty.

The publication of the Rowlatt Committee’s Report, in subsequent years, had made it evident that the Emden had such designs in approaching the shores of the Andamans, and that my forecast was not altogether without foundation. The account of revolutionary activities in India outside, given in that Report, and their connection with Germany, makes it plain enough that, at least, during the first year of war, their plans were definitely to capture the Andamans and release us. And I know that these were not idle speculations but had nearly succeeded in the Emden’s prowling activities about these shores. The European officers on these islands, in their later reports, confirmed our fears of such possible happenings.

I have already narrated in the early pages of this work, how, after the capture of Emden, the Government was definitely in the know of these matters and how they set up the defence of this prison as a military fortress. A turn -coat among us had at once carried to the ears of Mr. Barrie a report that negotiations were going on for the German aeroplane to swoop down upon the prison and take Savarkar out and away from this place. As if to checkmate this fictitious move,

Mr. Barrie planted a fully armed posse of soldiers on a platform in the centre of our prison. This was in addition to the regiment of British soldiers specially detailed to be on patrolling duty all over the prison. This order continued for many months after the cessation of the war in Europe. After the incident ofthe Emden, I was subjected to the strictest surveillance.

And that gave the traitors among us a chance to raise all sorts of rumours against me, and to convey them to the jailor and the Superintendent above him. They were busy propitiating these tin- gods in any manner they liked.

When a regiment of British soldiers came to be planted in the island, this mood of our friends had found a special outlet to vent itself against us. The Tommies had no means of amusement and recreation in the barren and sordid atmosphere ofthis prison. Our friends were kind enough to furnish the entertainment. They invented all sorts of stories about me and about my former revolutionaiy activities; about my machinations in this prison, and about my secret connections with Germany. Full of fervour and spice they told the stories to the soldiers in order to entertain them. What those stories were, how the soldiers were regaled by them, what the officers said about me in their serious discussions over the possible movements ofthe Emden,-full of the real and imaginary in them-all this finds its proper place in what the famous “Ditcher” ofthe ‘Capital4 of Calcutta wrote of these events later on in his weekly notes for that paper. I may mention more about it as I pass on.

It was not so easy there to control us, and especially the political prisoners! The officers and the authorities must have imagined that our transportation to the jail in the Andamans was our death-in-life, the end of all our activities, our burial in the grave- yard of the Andamans from which no resurrection was possible. And, therefore, they need no more think of us and be anxious over us. But the world had not forgotten though we lay buried here. On the other hand, they thought and spoke and wrote about the Andamans in the world without, because of the political prisoners confined in that island. And the jail had been turned into a living fortress, strongly armed and keenly guarded, and the seas were protected by dreadnoughts and submarines, for fear of our escape from it, in order to keep us safe within.

That our compatriots in India should so remember us, so cherish our memory, when we lay as prisoners in the Andamans and dead to the world without, filled our hearts with gratitude to them. And even in that dark dungeon of a prison-house, in the conditions of utter despair and horrid physical and mental torture, this living memory about us gave us hope and courage which I feel it my duty to record in these pages. Every day we were in fear that a fresh charge of sedition and high treason might be trumped up against us as the result of a systematic campaign of misrepresentation going on against us during these days of war. And who misrepresented us and carried tales against us? Our own men, the renegades among us, who had allied themselves with Mr. Barrie to save their own skins !

But even in this daily suspense and anxiety, we felt gratified that the war had made the Indian question an issue of International importance. This world earthquake was sure to fructify our hopes about India; that the desert of India would smile again like paradise- thoughts like these elated us; but a reaction also came that the war may end in turning the whole world into a desert with India included in it.

We swung like a pendulum between smiles and tears; and yet did not fail to rise above the darkness of despair and peep at the dawn that was sure to follow it. To end with the words ofthe poet, we ever “painted on the midnight sky of sorrow, the golden morrow.”