Partition of Bengal – Then and Now

Partition of Bengal–Then and Now

 

By ‘DEENABANDHU DAS’

Forty years , nationalist political agitation in Bengal started over the issue of partitioning the Province, and brought in its train nationalist awakening in Bengal and in India. At that time nationalist India was against partition which was sought to be imposed by the alien ruler. Nationalism fought over the issue and won. Partition was rescinded–“a settled fact was unsettled.”

Today–forty years after–nationalism has just emerged triumphantly from a battle, against heavy odds, for effecting the partition of Bengal. All the stalwarts of the Indian National Congress, Bengalees as well as non-Bengalees, this time vigorously fought against the idea of an undivided Bengal, unlike forty years when they fought for it.

How does one explain this anomaly? All the arguments that were then used against partition could now be used against it with equal force,–why not? The Muslim Leaguer whose interest it was now, before anybody else’s, to advocate unity could very well repeat the arguments of the 1905 anti-partitionist. Yet the lineal descendant, as it were, of that anti-partitionist was now vigorously opposing all those arguments.

May we not then conclude that the ‘unity of Bengal’ has no absolute sanctity about it? It is the circumstances in which partition was once resisted and was later favoured, that really matter and not the spirituality of Bengali unity. Unity of Bengal, geographical, racial or otherwise has no special sanctity of its own. The real issue lay deeper.

In 1905 those who resisted partition of Bengal did so because, by its means, the alien ruler sought to nurture a privileged child and carve out an area for its special preserve, while proportionately weakening its opponent by reducing and restricting its field for pasturage. Nationalism realised this and rightly resisted it. Our alien ruler had to retrace his steps in order to come to terms.

But what nationalism failed to realise then, and perhaps realises now, is that what the alien ruler failed to achieve in one way he achieved in another. True, in 1911 the King of England came and rescinded the geographical partitioning of Bengal, but the community-wise partitioning, for what else is the meaning of separate representation which was introduced as early as 1909,–remained where it was. Nationalism fought stoutly against geographical partitioning, but failed to fight with equal determination against community-wise partitioning. Anti-partitionists were not fully so.

Nationalism swears by the name of democracy. I have thought and thought but could by no means reconcile this religio-communal discrimination in political and constitutional arrangements with the democratic principle. To my mind, the two are irreconcilable. Yet the Congress ‘nationalist’ did not seem to hold the same view then, nor does he seem to do so now. The result is that Congress ‘nationalism’ was, from its very infancy, been infected with a communal virus. That communal virus might not have appeared to be so harmful at that early stage, but it has now revealed itself in its true colours and has caused an abnormal rise of temperature in the body politic.

“To protect a minority,” “to promote the welfare of a ward community”–these are seemingly beautiful phrases and now almost common-place axioms. But anybody who once stopped to enquire into the meaning and assess the worth of these principles could not fail to find out their worthlessness. What is “protecting a minority”? If by a minority you mean a religious community, it is enough protection to guarantee unrestricted observance of its religious practices. In order to protect it, it is quite uncalled for to allot seats, and a disproportionate number of seats, in the legislature to its members; such a course is not only uncalled for, it is positively harmful to the interests of another community and is, therefore, inimical to democracy. “To ameliorate the condition of a ward community,” is a dubious proposition. What is a ‘ward’ community? The Muslims of India, it is said, are or were fifty years , a ward community. But there are Muslims quite as rich as the richest Hindu. All Muslims are not in the same condition. Neither are all Hindus, or Christians, or Buddhists, or Jains, or Sikhs. If the intention is to improve the lot of the poor and the un- educated, it is proper not to speak in terms of communities at all. If you want to promote the education and economic welfare of the poor, you must do so irrespective of community. If you bring in the question of communities, you are at once favouring a member of one religious community and discriminating against members of other communities and ignoring the claims of poverty and illiteracy. Supposing that 95 per cent of the Muslims are un- educated while of the Hindus only 85 per cent are so, it is not justifiable to help with State funds the education of a Muslim boy while a Hindu boy who is worse off is neglected. It is poor consolation to the 90 per cent of poorer Muslims that their well-to-do co-religionist gets a lucrative government job or a profitable government contract in preference to a Hindi of the same status. And this depriving the well to-do Hindu would also matter little to the poor Hindu whose problem is somehow to get two square meals in a day. “To raise a ward community,” in this particular sense, is, therefore, a grossly unjust and anomalous proposition. It is inimical to democracy.

What the British Government really intended by ‘protecting a minority’ was to give special privilege to the members of a particular religious community and thus create a ‘native’ class interested in the continuation of alien rule. The policy of favouring the Muslims in the matter of seats in the legislature, jobs in the administration, educational grants and even trade facilities is, in its essence, a re-introduction of Aurangzeb’s Jezya (Poll-tax on non-Muhammadans). Strangely enough, the new Jezya of the twentieth century was introduced and administered not by a fanatical Sunni emperor but by an alien ‘infidel’ ruler, himself a ‘Zimmi’ (unbeliever) in Islamic nomenclature.

The most unfortunate part of it was that Congress nationalism in India was taken in by this seemingly pious phraseology of “protection of a minority” and “ward community”. In the philosophy of modern democracy, only citizenship of a State is recognised and membership of a religious community is not a factor to be counted. This is plain enough. Yet the Congress nationalist was not aware of this. The anti-partitionist of 1905 opposed geographical partitioning but not community-wise partitioning in civic, political and constitutional arrangements. This policy of community-wise partitioning could thus be easily pursued by the British Government in India to their incalculable advantage. In 1905 Curzon wanted only East Bengal to be partitioned off and made into a special preserve of the privileged Muslim gentry, and was opposed. Bengal remained undivided. But by 1937, because of community-wise partitioning: in the body politic and special weightage granted to the Muslim gentry (I should not say community), the whole of Bengal was won over by Curzon’s successor for a special preserve of his “favourite wife”. The last decade, particularly the last few years or months, brought home to nationalism the consequences of this development, and nationalism at last became very bitter about it. Nationalism at last demanded partition; in other words, it demanded at least West Bengal to be partitioned off and delivered from the grip of this privileged Muslim gentry.

The essence of the matter was, therefore, that whether Bengal should be administered from one centre or two was a matter of little consequence, and the partition question would not have assumed the importance it did, if Bengal’s body politic had not been infected with the communal virus. It is this latter, which was all-important. In political and constitutional arrangements, religio-communal considerations should have no place. In order not to appear ‘communalistic’ Congress nationalism has time and again conceded to Muslim communalism. True democratic nationalism has never been planted on the Indian soil, thanks to the dubious game of the British.

I have often wondered why it should be a matter of dispute whether a Province should be administered from one centre or two. It was so because there was a stake somewhere. It was this stake that mattered. If a truly democratic constitution had been planted in Bengal, it would have been a matter of administrative importance only whether Bengal was one or two. Since no such truly democratic constitution was in operation or in vision, the partition question became a political, and not simply an administrative, bone of contention. A truly democratic and powerful nationalistic movement, which will not give any quarter to communal separatism, should evolve in this land of our birth. In the absence of such a development, the prospect is very dark indeed.