08-28-2005, 06:34 AM
Book Review in Poineer, Aug 26 2005
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin--> Mangala, Mangala... Was he truly a hero?
Rudrangshu Mukherjee has tried to rescue<b> Mangal Pandey</b> from the clutches of myth-makers and present him for what he was: A god-fearing Brahmin <b>who rather than lose his religious identity</b> and caste by biting a cartridge soaked in animal fat<b> questioned the right of the British to impose such ammunition on native sepoys</b> - Kanchan Gupta
MANGAL PANDEY: BRAVE MARTYR OR ACCIDENTAL HERO?, BY RUDRANGSHU MUKHERJEE, PENGUIN, RS 150
<b>In this season of Aamir Khan's Mangal Pandey - The Rising which is a spectacular, lavish production that celebrates the heroism of a native sepoy who dared to challenge the might of John Company's lal paltan 148 years ago, it is only natural that popular interest in the history of that summer of ghadar when, to quote a chronicler of the times, British rule in north India "collapsed like a house made of cards", should witness a revival.</b>
The sepoy mutiny of 1857 has spawned a huge number of books, some of them scholarly treatises whose focus shifts depending on the nationality of the author; others a collation of myths and anecdotes whose veracity can neither be proved nor disproved. Such are the dangers of oral history.
<b>British historians,</b> including the author of The Indian Mutiny: 1857, Saul David, the latest to publish a book on the tumultuous events that were to indelibly alter the course of colonial rule in India and the subsequent unfolding of history, <b>reject the contention that the rebellion by native foot soldiers on the payroll of the East India Company was the first war of independence.</b>
<b>That is the description of nationalist historians</b> greatly influenced by the interpretation of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels who <b>saw the events of 1857 and the following year made famous by the valour of Rani Laxmibai as the "First Indian War of Independence".</b>
<b>A third description exists that follows the middle path and perhaps takes a more holistic view of the mutiny as a mass uprising, now popularised by Ketan Mehta's film as The Rising.</b>
And since history in India is not devoid of popular heroes, Mangal Pandey is widely seen as the man who unleashed the mutinous anger of sepoys in the garrisons of north India, from Lucknow to Agra.
The mutineers marched on to Delhi, stormed the city, and installed a decrepit Bahadur Shah Zafar on the derelict throne of the Mughal empire that had long ceased to exist.
The man lost his regained, though tattered, glory before he could savour it with the British forces laying siege to Delhi, and then entering as victors. The cruelty with which they avenged their earlier defeat at the hands of the mutineers shall forever remain a horror story.
The butchery of the mutineers was met with feral butchery by the British and their newly recruited loyalist sepoys.
By the time the last gun fell silent, marking the end of the sepoy mutiny, India's first war of independence or the uprising, call it what you will, Mangal Pandey's heroism was no more than a mere footnote of history.
The memory of this sepoy, who had joined the lal paltan along with other fellow Brahmins from eastern Uttar Pradesh to serve Company Bahadur and lost his life not on a battlefield but on the gallows of the barracks at Barrackpore, has been revived with great fanfare by Aamir Khan's dashing, swash-buckling role playing.
And to feed the popular appetite that has been whetted by the film, two slim volumes have hit the stands in bookshops. Rudrangshu Mukherjee, whose credentials as a historian are unimpeachable and who has written extensively, apart from publishing a book, on the events of 1857, was first off the mark with Mangal Pandey - Brave Martyr or Accidental Hero?
Mukherjee does not claim that his book, almost a pamphlet, is a definitive study or treatise.
It is an extended essay in which he has tried to rescue Mangal Pandey from the clutches of myth-makers, filmi and otherwise, and present him for what he was: A god-fearing Brahmin who rather than lose his religious identity and caste by biting the Enfield cartridge whose protective paper cover was soaked in animal fat (it was supposed to be a mix of beef tallow and pork fat) questioned the right of the British to impose such ammunition on native sepoys.
Fast paced and evocative, Mukherjee's book recreates the sleepy, drowsy afternoon of Sunday, March 29, 1857, at Barrackpore when Mangal Pandey, dressed in the lal paltan's red jacket and traditional dhoti (he chose not to wear the regimental trousers) swaggered to the parade ground, screamed expletives, urged his fellow sepoys to come out of their barracks, and hurled threats at his British officers.
This 26-year-old sepoy was incensed, as much as others in the ranks with him, that the British were almost conspiring against his caste and religion. Such was his rage that he blindly struck out and shot at two officers, immobilised them and could not be restrained.
Ignoring the command of their officers to disarm Mangal Pandey, some sepoys are said to have struck them with the butts of their muskets. None of them was identified as a fellow mutineer when a court martial was held.
Mangal Pandey's dramatic defiance ended with the arrival of Major General Hearsay and his two sons on the scene. As they galloped towards him, he emptied his musket on himself, but survived the injury.
Ironically, the man who is believed to have signalled the beginning of "India's first war of independence" and struck the first blow against nascent British imperialism was tried and sentenced to death by a native general court-martial.
All that Mangal Pandey would tell the court martial was "I did not know who I wounded and who I did not; what more shall I say? I have nothing more to say... I have no evidence." He admitted to his addiction to bhaang and other intoxicants. Perhaps he was high on bhaang on that Sunday afternoon.
Subehdar-Major Jowahir Lall Tewary and 14 other subalterns from his mulk in eastern Uttar Pradesh found him guilty and ordered his execution. Mangal Pandey was hanged on the same field where he made his grand, defiant stand on April 6.
Did he realise the enormity of his action? Or was it a generous dose of bhaang that resulted in his mutinous defiance? And did his martyrdom really trigger the larger mutiny that began on May 10, almost a month to the day he was executed? Mukherjee disagrees on this point and offers a divergent view.
Predictably, this has raised many hackles. But then history, like truth, does not come in black and white. We can't ignore the shades of grey in between. To join the debate, read Mukherjee's book.
<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
It might be true he was under the influence but that does not detract from his rebellion and the motives that inspired him. Also is the reviewer saying that Tilak and savarkar were influenced by Marx and Engels? If Mangal Pandey's deeds become an inspiration again it will collapse subaltern studies.
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin--> Mangala, Mangala... Was he truly a hero?
Rudrangshu Mukherjee has tried to rescue<b> Mangal Pandey</b> from the clutches of myth-makers and present him for what he was: A god-fearing Brahmin <b>who rather than lose his religious identity</b> and caste by biting a cartridge soaked in animal fat<b> questioned the right of the British to impose such ammunition on native sepoys</b> - Kanchan Gupta
MANGAL PANDEY: BRAVE MARTYR OR ACCIDENTAL HERO?, BY RUDRANGSHU MUKHERJEE, PENGUIN, RS 150
<b>In this season of Aamir Khan's Mangal Pandey - The Rising which is a spectacular, lavish production that celebrates the heroism of a native sepoy who dared to challenge the might of John Company's lal paltan 148 years ago, it is only natural that popular interest in the history of that summer of ghadar when, to quote a chronicler of the times, British rule in north India "collapsed like a house made of cards", should witness a revival.</b>
The sepoy mutiny of 1857 has spawned a huge number of books, some of them scholarly treatises whose focus shifts depending on the nationality of the author; others a collation of myths and anecdotes whose veracity can neither be proved nor disproved. Such are the dangers of oral history.
<b>British historians,</b> including the author of The Indian Mutiny: 1857, Saul David, the latest to publish a book on the tumultuous events that were to indelibly alter the course of colonial rule in India and the subsequent unfolding of history, <b>reject the contention that the rebellion by native foot soldiers on the payroll of the East India Company was the first war of independence.</b>
<b>That is the description of nationalist historians</b> greatly influenced by the interpretation of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels who <b>saw the events of 1857 and the following year made famous by the valour of Rani Laxmibai as the "First Indian War of Independence".</b>
<b>A third description exists that follows the middle path and perhaps takes a more holistic view of the mutiny as a mass uprising, now popularised by Ketan Mehta's film as The Rising.</b>
And since history in India is not devoid of popular heroes, Mangal Pandey is widely seen as the man who unleashed the mutinous anger of sepoys in the garrisons of north India, from Lucknow to Agra.
The mutineers marched on to Delhi, stormed the city, and installed a decrepit Bahadur Shah Zafar on the derelict throne of the Mughal empire that had long ceased to exist.
The man lost his regained, though tattered, glory before he could savour it with the British forces laying siege to Delhi, and then entering as victors. The cruelty with which they avenged their earlier defeat at the hands of the mutineers shall forever remain a horror story.
The butchery of the mutineers was met with feral butchery by the British and their newly recruited loyalist sepoys.
By the time the last gun fell silent, marking the end of the sepoy mutiny, India's first war of independence or the uprising, call it what you will, Mangal Pandey's heroism was no more than a mere footnote of history.
The memory of this sepoy, who had joined the lal paltan along with other fellow Brahmins from eastern Uttar Pradesh to serve Company Bahadur and lost his life not on a battlefield but on the gallows of the barracks at Barrackpore, has been revived with great fanfare by Aamir Khan's dashing, swash-buckling role playing.
And to feed the popular appetite that has been whetted by the film, two slim volumes have hit the stands in bookshops. Rudrangshu Mukherjee, whose credentials as a historian are unimpeachable and who has written extensively, apart from publishing a book, on the events of 1857, was first off the mark with Mangal Pandey - Brave Martyr or Accidental Hero?
Mukherjee does not claim that his book, almost a pamphlet, is a definitive study or treatise.
It is an extended essay in which he has tried to rescue Mangal Pandey from the clutches of myth-makers, filmi and otherwise, and present him for what he was: A god-fearing Brahmin who rather than lose his religious identity and caste by biting the Enfield cartridge whose protective paper cover was soaked in animal fat (it was supposed to be a mix of beef tallow and pork fat) questioned the right of the British to impose such ammunition on native sepoys.
Fast paced and evocative, Mukherjee's book recreates the sleepy, drowsy afternoon of Sunday, March 29, 1857, at Barrackpore when Mangal Pandey, dressed in the lal paltan's red jacket and traditional dhoti (he chose not to wear the regimental trousers) swaggered to the parade ground, screamed expletives, urged his fellow sepoys to come out of their barracks, and hurled threats at his British officers.
This 26-year-old sepoy was incensed, as much as others in the ranks with him, that the British were almost conspiring against his caste and religion. Such was his rage that he blindly struck out and shot at two officers, immobilised them and could not be restrained.
Ignoring the command of their officers to disarm Mangal Pandey, some sepoys are said to have struck them with the butts of their muskets. None of them was identified as a fellow mutineer when a court martial was held.
Mangal Pandey's dramatic defiance ended with the arrival of Major General Hearsay and his two sons on the scene. As they galloped towards him, he emptied his musket on himself, but survived the injury.
Ironically, the man who is believed to have signalled the beginning of "India's first war of independence" and struck the first blow against nascent British imperialism was tried and sentenced to death by a native general court-martial.
All that Mangal Pandey would tell the court martial was "I did not know who I wounded and who I did not; what more shall I say? I have nothing more to say... I have no evidence." He admitted to his addiction to bhaang and other intoxicants. Perhaps he was high on bhaang on that Sunday afternoon.
Subehdar-Major Jowahir Lall Tewary and 14 other subalterns from his mulk in eastern Uttar Pradesh found him guilty and ordered his execution. Mangal Pandey was hanged on the same field where he made his grand, defiant stand on April 6.
Did he realise the enormity of his action? Or was it a generous dose of bhaang that resulted in his mutinous defiance? And did his martyrdom really trigger the larger mutiny that began on May 10, almost a month to the day he was executed? Mukherjee disagrees on this point and offers a divergent view.
Predictably, this has raised many hackles. But then history, like truth, does not come in black and white. We can't ignore the shades of grey in between. To join the debate, read Mukherjee's book.
<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
It might be true he was under the influence but that does not detract from his rebellion and the motives that inspired him. Also is the reviewer saying that Tilak and savarkar were influenced by Marx and Engels? If Mangal Pandey's deeds become an inspiration again it will collapse subaltern studies.