October 2nd 2018 is the first day of the 150th
Birth Anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi. Whole libraries have been written about
this remarkable man who appeared upon the scene in India after having cut his
teeth in the political arena at the height of colonial ruthlessness and
exploitation by the apartheid regime in South Africa. India, under the imperial
heel of Britain, was fertile ground for transplanting his revolutionary ideas
that he had seeded as a lawyer and political activist in Pretoria.
However, the purpose of this article is not to add one more
page to the volumes in the library dedicated to Gandhi’s life. It is a reverie
that was triggered some years ago when I first read Manohar Malgonkar's book 'The Men Who Killed Gandhi'. The work
was first published in 1978, but somehow, had not come to my attention. I have
read Malgonkar's fiction, 'The Combat of Shadows’
being the first. It is a passionate novel, set in the tea plantations of the Northeast,
with revenge as its theme. Malgonkar writes with great ease and felicity. His
understanding of the Indian mind is second-to-none, and his characters come
alive in the narratives. Later I also read 'Distant
Drums', a novel set around the 1857 Sepoy Revolt, whose protagonists are
the leaders of that revolt. 'A Bend in
the River' is also set in the times before Indian independence and the
Partition that let loose a river of blood across the subcontinent. All
Malgonkar's fiction is full of passionate drama, with many melodramatic scenes
of cinematic intensity. I have always wondered why no filmmaker has attempted
to bring 'The Combat of Shadows' and 'A Bend in the River' to life on the
silver screen! These two novels are admirably suited to the medium of cinema
and would make for excellent viewing in the hands of a good craftsman.
'The Men Who Killed Gandhi' is a painstaking journey that
began in 1960 as an assignment from Life
International, and it came out as a
story in its February 1968 issue. But, by then, Malgonkar had realized that his
story and the research behind it warranted a book, much more than just a
magazine article. So, he sat down to enlarge the story with inputs from several
sources, of which the Kapur Commission's report proved to be most invaluable.
The edition that was finally published in 1978 was until then, perhaps the most
factual account of the conspiracy that led to the assassination of Gandhi.
Reprinted in 2008 by Roli Books, the new edition has been richly
enhanced by some, until then unpublished, documents and photographs of the many
people and items involved in the actual conspiracy, and the subsequent trials.
There are photocopies of the statements made by the indicted people as well as
by the investigating agents. One can see a facsimile of the actual Air India
tickets bought by Godse and Apte when they embarked on their deadly mission
from Bombay to Delhi. There are copies of the entries made in the Visitors'
Index book maintained by Hotel Marina, New Delhi, where Godse had stayed in
Room No. 40 when the first attempt on Gandhi's life was made on 20th January
1948. Pictures of the two firearms procured by the conspirators to perpetrate
their foul deed, with a complete account of how these came into their
possession, can be found within the pages of this edition.
But, as Malgonkar writes in the preface to the 2008 edition:
"The book first came out when the
country was in the grip of the 'Emergency', and books were subjected to a
censorship of the utmost ruthlessness. This made it incumbent upon me to omit
certain vital facts such as, for instance, Dr. Bhimrao Ambedkar's secret
assurance to Mr. L. B. Bhopatkar, that his client, Mr. V. D. Savarkar had been
implicated as a murder-suspect on the flimsiest grounds. Then again, certain
other pertinent details such as the 'doctoring' of a confession by a magistrate
whose duty it was only to record what was said only came out in later
years." This edition, according to the author, "is the complete single account of the plot to murder Mahatma
Gandhi." The edition brought out by Roli Books has been a great success
that can be ascertained from the fact that between 2008 and 2011, it has
undergone five impressions.
After having read and pondered over this wonderfully
produced volume, I moved on, quite by chance, to read an almost innocuous novel
titled 'The Last Castrato' by John
Spencer Hill. Published in 1995, the mystery novel is set in Florence, Italy, a
city that is said to overawe visitors by its sheer volume of culture. Situated
on the banks of the silvery river Arno, the city has a domineering influence on
people when they first espy Brunelleschi's Dome, or Ghiberti's Gates of
Paradise. The quaint, fairy-tale-like Ponte Vecchio straddles the river like a
magical bridge promising some wonderland on the other side. Florence can be both
intimidating, and yet captivating.
The novel recounts a saga in which the victim of a crime
committed almost three decades ago, exacts his revenge on the wrong-doers, by
slitting their throats and severing their vocal chords. The victim, it appears,
was criminally castrated by a group of aspiring musicians who called themselves
the Camerati Dell'Arte, the Companions of Art. In their attempt to restore
Renaissance opera to its original roots, they decided that they needed the
voice of a castrato. They abducted a
young peasant boy, plied him with laudanum, and then proceeded to emasculate
him. However, they were unable to market their music because the recording
companies guessed that the boy had been criminally assaulted and did not want
to have anything to do with the group. The boy, however, never forgave the Camerati and, as a grown up, exacted his
revenge upon them in the most macabre manner that he could devise.
There is obviously no connection between these two books,
one a factual account of a conspiracy launched by five fiercely patriotic
individuals who, although they held Gandhi in high esteem, felt that he had
betrayed the cause of the majority, and therefore, had to be violently removed
from the scene. In the end, their fanaticism got the better of their
patriotism, and they succeeded in killing the Mahatma, who, if he had lived,
may have 'changed the shape of India's
polity and society'. ‘The world,’ according
to Pramod Kapoor, the editor of the volume, ‘may
not have been as violent as it is today.’ The second is a totally fictional
work, in which a wronged individual seeks revenge for personal satisfaction.
However, it is rather ironical that Italy played a small
role in the murder of Mahatma Gandhi. Of the two guns that Godse procured for
the deed, it was the 9mm Beretta, an automatic pistol, made in Italy, which
fired the fatal shots. The pistol had found its way to India from Ethiopia
after the Second World War. Fate had decreed that an Italian weapon would be
used to remove Gandhi from this earth.
Ironically, it was again the connection with an Italian;
this time an individual, that brought down another Gandhi. The unhealthy
influence of Ottavio Quatrocchi was chiefly responsible for turning Rajiv
Gandhi from a promising Prime Minister into a commission agent, thereby
destroying his credibility with the common man and bringing his government down
from the heights of unprecedented majority to an ignominious minority, within
the period of just one term. Quatrocchi was able to peddle his toxic influence
only because he was an Italian, the nationality of Rajiv Gandhi's wife.
The destructive Italian connection continues for over a
quarter-century (and counting) after the downfall of Rajiv Gandhi and his
untimely and tragic assassination by a Sri Lankan suicide-bomber. Sonia Gandhi,
his widow, after a brief interregnum of staying away from the corridors of
political power, took control of the Congress Party, consolidating her hold on
it as its longest-serving President, and till 2014, ruled the country as an
uncrowned Empress. Even now she commands an almost Caesarian, unconstitutional
authority in Lutyen’s Delhi. The constricting embrace in which she held the
Party has made it into a lifeless, spineless organism, almost a brain-dead
creature. The government she headed (as the Chairperson of the UPA) was prostrate
at her feet and its Prime Minister, like the peasant boy of the novel, seemed
to have become the first castrato in
the Opera Macabre that she was conducting, with the Indian media playing its
diabolical orchestra from the wings. It is perhaps pertinent to recall here
what Nathuram Godse, in his final statement, had to say about the Indian press: "The Press had displayed such
weakness and submission to the High Command of the Congress that it allowed the
mistakes of leaders pass away freely and unnoticed and made vivisection easy by
their policy." We can see that as far as the media is concerned,
nothing has changed since the trial of the conspirators.
Sonia Gandhi has since handed over the baton to her son, now
that she no longer commands the legislature, having led her party in the 2014
elections to its worst ever performance in history. Rahul Gandhi, like a modern
day Don Quixote, suffering from a fevered imagination, is out to destroy whatever
credibility the party is left with. Like a loose cannon he makes bombastic and
conflicting statements about the economy with regularity. In his hatred for PM
Modi he appears to be willing to join hands with the enemies of India if it can
bring his party back to power, never mind the consequent rivers of blood that
communal riots are known to generate. The endorsements he receives from
Pakistan testify to this fact. His
almost daily utterances of vile lies against Narendra Modi, his inane tweets,
and the abuses he hurls at the office of the Prime Minister confirm that he and
his family are unable to come to terms with their current state of political
irrelevance. His personal identity is in a constant state of flux, altering his
religious beliefs according to the town he is visiting and the audience he is
addressing.
The Congress Party has run its race and is now completely
out of wind. Its leadership is moribund and has survived the various court cases
so far because of a dysfunctional judicial system it created over 60 years of
governance. In any other Democracy its entire top leadership would have been in
jail within months of losing power. In China they would probably have been
executed. The Gandhi’s have long outlived their usefulness to the Congress
party and to India. The hangers-on who are still holding on to the pallu of Sonia Gandhi’s sari have no
existence outside the fold. They are the last castratos of the Cameratismo
di Ladri (the comradeship of thieves) that the party’s Italian connections
have transformed it into. The shrill cacophony of the servile media and the
continuous assault by the judiciary on India’s traditional culture and
civilization can, at best be described as the last ditch attempts by a derelict
surgery to give voice to these castratos even
though their vocal chords were excised long ago by the Italian descendants.
If India survives this fatal Italian connection in 2019, it
can be assured of the “tryst with destiny” that its first Prime Minister had
promised at the dawn of independence, though he did not do much to make that
tryst come about.
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