Guidalo: Queen of the Hills

BY PRAFULLADATTA GOSWAMI M.A.

The flood of patriotism let loose by the 1942 movement took its toll of heroes and heroines in Assam, and now we cherish the memory of Kanaklata, Kusal Konwar, and others. Well has it been said that we appreciate our heroes, only when they are dead! The newspapers sometimes make mention of another patriot–Rani Guidalo, the Naga lady–happily with us still, who sacrificed herself at the altar of Liberty and suffered more than was necessary.

Our story takes us to a dainty girl who was born into the Kaccha tribe. She belonged to a village some seventeen miles away from Mokokchang. It is an interior village bordering on the home of tribes that still take an interest in head-hunting. She was a moody girl, often betaking herself to the quiet haunts of Nature for which the Naga Hills are so noted. She dwelt among ‘the untrodden ways’ beside the springs of the hills. Perhaps she had sensibilities, which could not be appreciated by her associates. Her eyes were luminous with unrealized visions and her well-developed nose bespoke an energy which was to make itself felt later on.

She was picked up by some Missionary who brought her to Mokokchang and tried to instill into her a dose or two of Missionary lore. There she was for some time, reading up to Class VI, but then she attained her puberty and had to go home. That was the custom of her forefathers.

In the meantime the call of freedom was stirring up the Nagas. It was no part of the general Indian nationalist movement, but fostered by the traditions and circumstances of the Nagas themselves. The British did not look upon this with an eye of tolerance. They captured two rebels –‘Haideo,’ and Jadunang, and had them hanged.

The young maiden was feeling the pulsation of a new life around her. She was probably in tune with the poet:

“We bear the wrong in silence,
We store it in our brain;
They think us dull, they think us dead,
But we shall rise again.”

She was just awaiting her chance, when she heard a rumour that India had attained freedom! It was 1930, and of course India and the plains of Assam were shaking with the tide of the Civil Disobedience movement. The Naga girl felt that her hour had come: she gave a call to her people, to rouse themselves and break the shackles that had been put upon them by the Britishers.

A hunt was set up. But she was too swift for her pursuers. She stirred the people and passed swiftly from village to village, from hill to hill. She attained some amount of prestige and even a halo, the halo of a goddess. She became the Rani, the sobriquet which now decorates her name.

At last she was caught with the help of, it is said, a Naga doctor. She was captured in 1932 and brought for trial to Mokokchang. There she remained for some time as an under-trial prisoner. The chief charge that was brought against her was that she abetted murder. For, seven heads hunted by the wild tribes in the neighbourhood of her village had been found, and it was ‘politic’ to put the blame upon her.

The trial was held within jail and she was awarded a life sentence. The news inflamed thousands of patriotic Nagas and there was a threat of rushing upon the jail itself, especially when she was about to be removed after the verdict. It was the Rani’s gesture which restrained them. For she played up to the role which she had taken upon herself and spoke to the crowd which had gathered there. She said: “Do not be unruly. Do not lose your patience. For I shall come ; they won’t be able to keep me for more than two years. I shall come out and go to see the Mahatma who has given freedom to India. You shall be free again.” Thus spoke the valiant girl, and the simple-hearted Nagas listened to their Rani.

Then followed her travels and travails. She was moved from place to place. She was taken to Shillong, to Tura, to Aijal in the Lushai Hills. The loss of their dear daughter shattered the happiness of her parents. Her mother became blind with weeping. Her father died of sorrow. Her elder brother, who was also a rebel like her, is believed to have been shot dead. Her younger sister came to be adopted by the Missionary.

She had imagined that she would be able to breathe the air of freedom in a year or two, but when the years rolled on, and all sorts of indignities were heaped upon her, her wild spirit almost broke down. She hardly talked. She did not look into the eyes of her visitors. She was careless in her deportment, and came very near to losing the balance of her mind.

Of the tortures that were put upon her it would suffice to mention that she was made to walk hundreds of miles when she had to be moved from one place to another. Once she had to walk all the way from Shillong to Tura, and on another occasion from Shillong to Aijal. She was but a young woman brought up on the cool heights of the Naga Hills. In 1939 she was seen by a Jail Visitor at Shillong. She seemed to be borne down by her suffering. She was kept as a C Class prisoner and was then fanning the dust chaff off some paddy.

The outside world hardly knew anything of the affair. That a wild flower of liberty was languishing in prison was not flashed in the newspapers. But in 1935 Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru happened to visit Silchar A band of Nagas met Panditji and apprised him of the heroic exploits of Guidalo. It was a sad item of news for the fiery leader of India’s struggle for freedom. Naturally he became indignant and tried what he could to get her released. Then only was the story of this sacrifice to patriotism broadcast to the world. The plenary session of the Congress which was held at Allahabad in 1936 passed a resolution demanding her release.

Since then, the years have rolled on and much has occurred in the intervening period. Rani Guidalo was released in 1945, and she is now in her own village as an internee. She went to prison as a blooming young lady still in her teens, and she came out with her health shattered and her mind inhumanly tortured. But her wild spirit still smoulders in her, and, in recent interview with a press correspondent, she showed a lively interest in recent happenings in the political arena. She does not wish that the Nagas should remain outside the Indian Union, but she demands complete autonomy for the Naga Hills. She would resent any interference from outside in their internal affairs. She believes in the co-operation of the plains people and appeals to them to come to the help of their less advanced hill brethren.

Thus, the tale is soon told. But what draws one’s attention on to Guidalo is the poetry in her character and career. The history of events, it has been observed by a notable historian, is ephemeral, and for the scholar; but the poetry of events is eternal and for the multitude. The poem that this wild flower from the woods of the Naga Hills acted and lived will survive as a symbol. It will outlast her mere existence as a Naga patriot.