Drafts Which Shaped the Indian Constitution
The Swaraj Bill of 1895
"Swaraj is my birthright." - Bal Gangadhar Tilak
The first non-official initiative to draft a Constitution for India incorporating a parliamentary system of government was undertaken in 1895 under the inspiration of Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar Tilak. In a brief preface to what he described as a “Home Rule Bill” (Swaraj Bill),[1] Tilak outlined the framework of a Constitution that he envisioned India would obtain from the British Government. This proposed document, titled the Constitution of India Act, envisaged the establishment of a Parliament of India, defined as an assembly comprising both official and non-official representatives of the Indian nation.
The proposed Parliament was to function as a forum in which every citizen could freely express opinions through speech or writing and publish them without fear of censorship or penalty, subject only to accountability for any abuse of this right. It further affirmed the principle that no individual should be punished except by a competent authority and that the law should apply equally to all citizens. The draft also provided for universal voting rights, granting every citizen one vote for the election of members of Parliament and one vote for the election of members of the local legislative councils. The document was drafted in a formal legal style and comprised 110 articles.[2]
Historical Context: Nationalism’s Constitutional Stirrings
The Swaraj Bill arrived at a pivotal moment. The Indian National Congress, founded in 1885, was evolving from a platform for moderate reforms to a voice demanding greater self-governance. Influenced by British liberal ideals and global democratic experiments, like the U.S. Bill of Rights and the French Declaration of the Rights of Man, the bill rejected outright independence but sought dominion status within the British Empire. Its preamble invoked the “Queen’s Most Excellent Majesty” while asserting that sovereign, legislative, judicial, and executive powers were “delegated by the Nation” and vested in a Parliament of India. This hybrid vision reflected the era’s pragmatism: loyalty to the Crown paired with an unyielding call for Indian agency.
At its core, the bill’s emphasis on fundamental rights (outlined in Sections 13–26) was revolutionary. These provisions were not mere appendages but the bedrock of citizenship, ensuring that individual liberties underpinned the state’s structure. In an age when Indians were subjects rather than citizens, denied basic political rights under the Indian Councils Act of 1892, the bill’s declaration that “the law shall be equal to all” (Section 20) stood as a defiant rebuke to colonial hierarchies based on race, caste, and creed.
Fundamental Rights: Pillars of Liberty and Dignity
The Swaraj Bill’s fundamental rights section reads like a manifesto for human dignity, predating similar enumerations in 20th-century constitutions. Spanning Sections 13–26, these rights were framed as inherent to Indian citizenship, applicable to all born in India, children of Indian parents (even abroad under certain conditions), or naturalized foreigners. Loss of these rights was narrowly circumscribed, through naturalization abroad, acceptance of foreign honors without license, or criminal sentences, ensuring protections were not easily revoked.
Some sections of the bill are worth mentioning:
Participation in Governance (Section 13): “Every citizen has a right to take part in the affairs of his country.” This democratic cornerstone allowed citizens to engage via means prescribed by Parliament, foreshadowing universal suffrage.
Right to Bear Arms (Section 14): Citizens were “required to bear arms, to maintain and defend the Empire against its internal and external enemies.” While tied to imperial defense, this affirmed a collective duty to national security, empowering individuals as active protectors rather than passive subjects.
Rule of Law (Section 15): “No citizen shall do, or omit to do, any act unless by virtue of law.” This enshrined the principle that all actions must align with legal bounds, preventing arbitrary state overreach.
Freedom of Expression (Section 16): “Every citizen may express his thoughts by words or writings, and publish them in print without liability to censure, but they shall be answerable for abuses, which they may commit in the exercise of this right, in the cases and in the mode the Parliament shall determine.” A balanced safeguard against sedition laws, it protected speech while allowing parliamentary regulation—progressive for its time.
Personal Security and Privacy (Sections 17–19): Homes were declared “inviolable asylums,” no one could be imprisoned without a “special crime proved against him according to law,” and sentencing required “competent authority.” These clauses directly challenged colonial practices like warrantless searches and indefinite detention.
Right to Property and Petition (Sections 23–24): Citizens enjoyed “right of property to its fullest extent, except where the law determines otherwise,” and could “present to his Sovereign or to the Parliament... claims, petitions and complaints.” Property as a fundamental entitlement countered land revenue exploitations, while petition rights democratized access to justice.
Education as a Right (Sections 25–26): “State Education shall be Free in the Empire” and “Primary Education shall be Compulsory.” This visionary mandate aimed to uplift the masses, recognizing education as essential for equality.
Voting rights (Section 29) further democratized these liberties: “Every citizen has a right to give one vote for electing a member to the Parliament of India and one to the Local Legislative Council.” Though limited by qualifications like age (25) and citizenship tenure (10 years), it marked a leap toward representative rule.
Equality: The Bill’s Beating Heart
Amid these rights, equality emerges as the bill’s moral and legal fulcrum, articulated succinctly yet powerfully in Section 20: “The law shall be equal to all.” This clause was no platitude; it was a radical assertion in a society stratified by British racial policies, princely privileges, and the caste system. The bill’s equality provision demanded uniform application of laws, prohibiting exemptions based on status, a direct antidote to the discriminatory Ilbert Bill controversies of the 1880s, where European settlers resisted equal legal treatment for Indian judges.
This equality extended beyond the courtroom. Section 21 guaranteed that “every citizen may be admitted to public office,” dismantling barriers to bureaucratic and political participation. Taxation was proportional to “substance” (Section 22), ensuring fairness in burdens. Religious tolerance was absolute: “All religions and modes of worship are permitted,” fostering a secular ethos that tolerated diversity without favoritism. In essence, the bill’s equality was substantive, intertwining with rights to create a framework where liberty was meaningless without fairness.
Though the Swaraj Bill never saw enactment, overshadowed by escalating colonial resistance and the rise of more radical movements, its imprint endures. It influenced subsequent drafts, including the Nehru Report of 1928, and resonated in the Constituent Assembly debates of 1946–1949. The modern Indian Constitution’s Part III (Fundamental Rights) mirrors its spirit: Article 14’s “equality before the law” echoes Section 20 verbatim in intent, while freedoms of speech (Article 19) and religion (Article 25) build on its foundations.
The 1895 bill reminds us that India’s constitutional story began not in 1950 but in the audacious imaginations of late-19th-century patriots. By prioritizing fundamental rights and equality, it transformed Swaraj from a slogan into a blueprint.
"Simon Go Back" was a protest slogan used in 1928 against the all-British Simon Commission sent to India to report on constitutional reforms. Indians, led by Congress and other leaders, boycotted the commission because it excluded Indian members, viewing it as an insult to their sovereignty.
The Simon Commission
"Simon Go Back" - Yusuf Meherally
The Simon Commission, appointed by the British government in November 1927 under the leadership of Sir John Simon, was tasked with evaluating the efficacy of the Government of India Act of 1919, commonly known as the Montagu-Chelmsford Reforms, and proposing subsequent constitutional advancements. Notably, the commission comprised exclusively British members, a composition that conspicuously omitted any Indian representation.
The formation of the Simon Commission can be attributed to several factors. The 1919 Act had stipulated a review of constitutional developments after a decade, which would have occurred in 1929. However, the British administration preemptively initiated this assessment in 1927, primarily to circumvent conducting it under a prospective government perceived as more amenable to Indian nationalist aspirations. Furthermore, the entirely British makeup of the commission disregarded Indian demands for inclusion in deliberations concerning their own governance.
The Indian response to the Simon Commission was marked by profound indignation, as the exclusion of Indian members was interpreted as a profound affront to national dignity and self-determination. This sentiment precipitated widespread agitation across the subcontinent, manifesting in protests, strikes, black-flag demonstrations, and hartals. The evocative slogan "Simon Go Back!" emerged as a unifying emblem of resistance. Key figures, such as Lala Lajpat Rai, spearheaded these demonstrations and endured severe police brutality; Rai succumbed to injuries inflicted during one such confrontation.
In terms of its broader implications for discourses on rights, the Simon Commission represented a pivotal juncture, emblematic of the British imperial reluctance to acknowledge Indian political autonomy. This backlash compelled Indian leaders to assert initiative independently, culminating in the formulation of the Nehru Report in 1928.
Karachi Resolution (1931)
In March 1931, merely six days following the execution of Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev, and Rajguru, the Indian National Congress convened and adopted the Karachi Resolution, which had been drafted by Jawaharlal Nehru. This resolution expanded the concept of "Swaraj" beyond mere political independence to encompass social and economic freedoms as well.
The Karachi Resolution incorporated two principal components. The first outlined fundamental rights, which included protections for freedom of speech, equality before the law, and the safeguarding of civil liberties. The second component presented a national economic program that emphasized social and economic justice, advocating measures such as the right to work, a minimum wage, protections for workers and peasants, and state ownership or control of key industries.
The significance of the Karachi Resolution lies in its role as the inaugural comprehensive framework for the rights and socio-economic policies of an independent India. Furthermore, it served as a foundational influence for the Directive Principles of State Policy enshrined in Part IV of the Indian Constitution.
Sir Benegal Narsing Rau CIE was an Indian civil servant, jurist, diplomat and statesman known for his role as the constitutional advisor to the Constituent Assembly of India. He was also India's representative to the United Nations Security Council from 1950 to 1952.
Draft Constitution of India 1948
By October 1947, B. N. Rau had prepared the first draft of India’s Constitution. During two and a half years of intense debate and discussion in the Constituent Assembly, the Constitution of India was ultimately finalized on 26 November 1949. On 21 February 1948, the Drafting Committee submitted the Draft Constitution of India to the President of the Constituent Assembly. Four months earlier, the Committee had received a preliminary draft prepared by the Assembly’s Constitutional Adviser, Sir B.N. Rau. This document reflected the Assembly’s earlier decisions, based on reports from various subcommittees entrusted with framing specific constitutional provisions. Between October 1947 and February 1948, the Drafting Committee, under the chairmanship of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, carefully examined, refined, and expanded upon Rau’s draft. The outcome of this process was the Draft Constitution of India, 1948.
The Draft comprised 315 Articles arranged across eighteen Parts and eight Schedules. It covered a broad spectrum of constitutional themes, including the structure of government, Centre–State relations, and the fundamental rights of citizens. In sections where the Drafting Committee made major revisions to Rau’s text or where ambiguities persisted, it inserted explanatory notes and footnotes to clarify its reasoning.
Notably, this Draft was the first comprehensive blueprint of the Indian Constitution to be made publicly available. It was circulated widely among Assembly members, provincial governments, central ministries, the Supreme Court and High Courts, as well as the general public, accompanied by an invitation for feedback and suggestions. After reviewing the comments received in March and October 1948, the Drafting Committee incorporated necessary amendments.
On 4 November 1948, Dr. B.R. Ambedkar formally introduced the revised Draft Constitution in the Constituent Assembly. Each member was provided with a copy of the document, along with the set of amendments recommended by the Committee. In his introductory address, Ambedkar summarized the contents of the Draft and responded to certain criticisms that had surfaced during the consultative process. Reactions within the Assembly were mixed, while some members lauded the Draft as a remarkable achievement, others expressed disappointment, particularly over its limited emphasis on the principles of Panchayati Raj in shaping India’s administrative and political framework.
On 15 November 1948, the Constituent Assembly commenced the clause-by-clause consideration of the Draft Constitution. Each provision was subjected to detailed debate, scrutiny, and amendment. Over the following eleven months, the Assembly discussed and decided upon numerous proposals and modifications introduced both by individual members and by the Drafting Committee itself. This extensive deliberative process continued until 17 October 1949. Subsequently, the Drafting Committee incorporated the Assembly’s decisions and prepared a revised version of the Draft Constitution, which was submitted for a second reading on 14 November 1949.
The discussions surrounding the Draft Constitution, along with its revised version, constituted the core of the Constituent Assembly Debates and represented the most substantial phase of India’s constitution-making process. Out of the Assembly’s total 165 sittings, an impressive 114 were devoted exclusively to debating this Draft. Finally, after nearly three years of exhaustive deliberation, the Constituent Assembly adopted the Draft Constitution on 26 November 1949, enacting it as the Constitution of India. Often, it is Dr. Ambedkar who is credited for adding the Fundamental Rights and Abolition of “Untouchability,” but we get to see these rights in the first draft of the Constitution, which was done by B.N. Rau, who was also a Brahmin by birth. The following are the Articles of the Draft Constitution of India 1948, which abolished Untouchability and added Fundamental Rights:
PART III
FUNDAMENTAL RIGHTS
Rights of Equality
DC.9
9. (1) The State shall not discriminate against any citizen on grounds only of religion, race, caste, sex or any of them. In particular, no citizen shall, on grounds only of religion, race, caste, sex or any of them, be subject to any disability, liability, restriction or condition with regard to-
(a) Access to shops, public restaurants, hotels and places of public entertainment, or
(b) The use of wells, tanks, roads, and places of public resort maintained wholly or partly out of the revenues of the State or dedicated to the use of the general public.(2) Nothing in this article shall prevent the State from making any special provision for women and children.DC.10
10. (1) There shall be equality of opportunity for all citizens in matters of employment under the State.
(2) No citizen shall, on grounds only of religion, race, caste, sex, descent, place of birth or any of them, be ineligible for any office under the State.
(3) Nothing in this article shall prevent the State from making any provision for the reservation of appointments or posts in favour of any backward class of citizens who, in the opinion of the State, are not adequately represented in the services under the State.
(4) Nothing in this article shall affect the operation of any law which provides that the incumbent of an office in connection with the affairs of any religious or denominational institution or any member of the governing body thereof shall be a person professing a particular religion or belonging to a particular denomination.DC.11
11. “Untouchability” is abolished and its practice in any form is forbidden. The enforcement of any disability arising out of “Untouchability” shall be an offence punishable in accordance with law.[3]
Dr. Ambedkar also gave credit to Sir B.N. Rau:
The credit that is given to me does not really belong to me. It belongs partly to Sir B.N. Rau, the Constitutional Adviser to the Constituent Assembly who prepared a rough draft of the Constitution for the consideration of the Drafting Committee. A part of the credit must go to the members of the Drafting Committee who, as I have said, have sat for 141 days and without whose ingenuity of devise new formulae and capacity to tolerate and to accommodate different points of view, the task of framing the Constitution could not have come to so successful a conclusion. Much greater, share of the credit must go to Mr. S.N. Mukherjee, the Chief Draftsman of the constitution. His ability to put the most intricate proposals in the simplest and clearest legal form can rarely be equalled, nor his capacity for hard work. “He has been as acquisition to the Assembly. Without his help, this Assembly would have taken many more years to finalise the Constitution. I must not omit to mention the members of the staff working under Mr. Mukherjee. For, I know how hard they have worked and how long they have toiled sometimes even beyond midnight. I want to thank them all for their effort and their cooperation. (Cheers.)[4]
Just as Dr. Ambedkar did, Mr. K.M. Munshi also gave credit to B.N. Rau, K.M. Munshi was an Indian freedom fighter, lawyer, writer, and educationist who played a crucial role in the independence movement and the formation of modern India. He was also member of the Constituent Assembly Debates, and he said this about Sir B.N. Rau:
The Members of the Committee, I may mention, have devoted careful attention to every aspect of the Rules and we have had the assistance of the able and distinguished jurist, our Constitutional Adviser, Sir B.N. Rau. The Committee had done its best to give it as perfect a shape as is possible. But I dare say there may be many defects still left, and the House may find some discrepancies. I am sure, points of view may have been omitted; I seek therefore the indulgence of the House. These are the Rules of the Assembly. They can be altered or added to when we next meet. We can always add new points of view if some one are omitted. But it is highly essential that we should adopt the Rules and appoint one or two committees which would keep the organisation of the Constituent Assembly going.[5]
Jaspat Roy Kapoor was a lawyer, a congressman, and a member of the Constituent Assembly Debates also gave credits to B.N. Rau, he said:
I must also express my gratitude to Shri B.N. Rau, Mr. Mukherjee and his loyal lieutenants for the very good and efficient work that they have all done. Shri B.N. Rau kept on flooding on us precedents after precedents of Constitutions as they are in the different parts of the world and they have been very helpful to us.[6]
Alladi Krishnaswami Ayyar was the chairman of the Credential Committee of the Constituent Assembly of India. He served as the Advocate General of Madras State from 1929 to 1944, he said:
I would also be failing in my duty if I do not give my tributes to the services of Sir B.N. Rau and to the untiring energy, patience, ability and industry of the Joint Secretary, Mr. Mukherjee and his lieutenants.[7]
The World’s Longest Surviving Written Constitution
“However good a constitution may be, if those who are implementing it are not good, it will prove to be bad. However bad a constitution may be, if those implementing it are good, it will prove to be good.” - Dr. Ambedkar
The journey began with the Constituent Assembly, formed in 1946 under the Cabinet Mission Plan. Comprising 299 members (after the partition reduced it from 389), the Assembly held its first session on December 9, 1946. Over 2 years, 11 months, and 17 days, it conducted 11 sessions, debating every clause meticulously. Dr. Ambedkar played a pivotal role, guiding the debates and ensuring the document reflected principles of justice, liberty, equality, and fraternity.
The Indian Constitution is the longest written constitution in the world. At the time of its adoption in 1950, it contained 395 Articles, 22 Parts, and 8 Schedules. Over time, amendments have expanded it further, reflecting India’s evolving needs. Its detailed nature was intentional, aimed at addressing the complexities of a vast and diverse nation. Unlike most modern constitutions, the original Indian Constitution was entirely handwritten in both English and Hindi. It was calligraphed by Prem Behari Narain Raizada and artistically decorated by Nandalal Bose and his students from Shantiniketan. Each page is a blend of law and art, showcasing India’s rich heritage. The Indian Constitution is often described as a “bag of borrowings”, but this borrowing was deliberate and thoughtful. It adopted the best features from various constitutions across the world, Fundamental Rights from the USA, Parliamentary Government from the UK, Directive Principles from Ireland, and Federalism from Canada. This fusion created a uniquely Indian constitutional framework.
Delivering a lecture on India’s Constitution at the University of Madras in 1951, Sir Ivor Jennings described it as: ‘Too long, too rigid, too prolix’, and said that the dominance in the Constituent Assembly of lawyer-politicians had contributed to its complexity! In fact, he characterized India’s Constitution as ‘a truly oriental display of occidental constitutional devices.’[8] The same Ivor Jennings had been entrusted with the task of drafting the Constitution of Ceylon (now, Sri Lanka); and he took great care to see that it endured, but it lasted only fourteen years, which only goes to show that a finely-worded document is no guarantee of its success. It is only a spirit of constitutionalism (amongst the representatives of the people) that helps to keep it alive and functioning.[9]
ENDNOTES
[1] One can access the bare act here https://www.constitutionofindia.net/historical-constitution/the-constitution-of-india-bill-unknown-1895/
[2] B. Shiva Rao, Framing of India’s Constitution: Select Documents, Vol. I, pp.5-15.
[3] https://www.constitutionofindia.net/committee-report/draft-constitution-of-india-1948
[4] Dr. Ambedkar’s Last Speech in the Constituent Assembly on the Adoption of the Constitution. (November 25, 1949), p. 329.
[5] Constituent Assembly Debates (Proceedings) (9th December,1946 to 24th January,1950. pdf p. 226.
[6] Ibid., pdf p. 6509.
[7] Ibid., pdf p. 6576.
[8] Sir Ivor Jennings (1903-1965), British lawyer and academic who served as Vice-Chancellor of the University of Ceylon (1942-1955) and Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cambridge (1961-1963). Jennings was an authority on constitutional law, and author of a definitive book on the workings of the unwritten British Constitution. He had advised in the drafting of the Constitution of Ceylon to form the Dominion of Ceylon. Quoted from Fali S Nariman, You Must Know Your Constitution, p.16.
[9] Playwright George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) visited Ceylon in 1948 – and he was ecstatic about its people. This is what he wrote to Jawaharlal Nehru: “I was convinced that Ceylon is the cradle of the human race because everybody there looks an original. All other nations are obviously mass produced.”! (Typically Shavian). Ibid.
The Great Escape of Netaji
In the annals of India’s struggle for independence, few episodes are as cinematic and daring as the "Great Escape" of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose. While the British Raj believed they had the "rebel" leader securely confined within the walls of his Elgin Road residence in Calcutta, Bose was busy orchestrating a vanishing act that would shift the theater of his revolution from the streets of Bengal to the global stage of World War II.
Based on the historical records preserved by the Netaji Subhas Bose organization and archival accounts, here is the story of that perilous journey. By late 1940, the British government had placed Subhas Chandra Bose under strict house arrest. Following his release from prison on medical grounds after a hunger strike, he was confined to his father’s bedroom at 38/2 Elgin Road. A ring of secret police and intelligence officers surrounded the house 24/7, monitoring every visitor and movement. By that time, Netaji had reached a definitive conclusion that he could not win India's freedom with the Congress/Gandhian ways.
To the outside world, Bose was a broken man, seeking solace in prayer and meditation. He grew a long beard, remained in seclusion, and let it be known that he was considering a life of renunciation as a sadhu. In reality, this was the "bluff of religious seclusion", a psychological smoke screen designed to lower the guards’ vigilance. Certain historical accounts suggest that Savarkar proposed to Netaji the strategy of initiating an armed revolution from abroad.
On 22 June 1940, Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose met Savarkar at Savarkar Sadan in Mumbai.
In this meeting, it is said that Savarkar advised Netaji to establish India’s own armed force to fight against the British.
Background: The Road to House Arrest
To understand the escape, we must first contextualize Bose's predicament. Subhas Chandra Bose, born in 1897, was a fiery nationalist whose vision for India's independence diverged sharply from the non-violent path advocated by Mahatma Gandhi. By 1940, Bose had already served as the President of the Indian National Congress twice, but his radical views led to conflicts within the party. He founded the Forward Bloc in 1939, emphasizing armed struggle and socialist principles. The British colonial authorities, wary of his influence, arrested him on December 5, 1940, under the Defense of India Rules. Initially imprisoned, he was transferred to his family residence at 38/2 Elgin Road in Calcutta (now Kolkata) for health reasons, but this was no lenient measure; it was house arrest under strict surveillance. The house, a spacious colonial-era bungalow, became both a prison and a planning ground.
Surrounded by 62 sleuths from the British intelligence, every visitor was monitored, mail intercepted, and movements scrutinized. Bose's health had deteriorated due to a hunger strike in jail, but his mind remained sharp. During his 40 days at home, he immersed himself in spiritual practices, including prayer, meditation, and reading the Bhagavad Gita in his father's bedroom. This period of apparent quiescence masked intense internal deliberations. Bose realized that remaining in India would lead to prolonged imprisonment, stifling his ability to organize resistance. He believed the ongoing World War II presented opportunities to align with Britain's enemies, initially Russia or Japan, to wage an armed struggle from abroad.
Bose's correspondence during this time reveals his frustrations. On December 29, 1940, he wrote to Gandhi, offering cooperation despite their ideological differences. Gandhi's reply was telling: "You are irrepressible whether ill or well. Do get well before going in for fireworks." He added, "With the fundamental differences between you and me, it is not possible till one of us is converted to the other's view, we must sail in different boats, though their destination may appear, but only appear to be the same." This exchange underscored Bose's isolation within the mainstream Congress leadership and solidified his resolve to escape.
The Meticulous Planning Phase
Planning the escape was a clandestine operation involving a network of trusted allies. Bose drew on contacts from the Kirti Kisan Party, including Sardar Niranjan Singh Talib and Comrade Acchar Singh, but arrests disrupted early efforts. The Bengal Volunteers, a revolutionary group, took the lead under Major Satya Gupta and Satya Ranjan Bakshi, who handled logistics and funding. Bose's niece, Ila Bose, played a pivotal role in coordinating within the family.
The escape route was charted via Peshawar to Kabul, Afghanistan, a treacherous path through the North-West Frontier Province, known for its rugged terrain and tribal conflicts. This choice was strategic: Afghanistan was neutral, offering potential gateways to Russia or Europe. To evade detection, Bose would disguise himself as Mohammed Zia-ud-din, an insurance agent from the United Provinces. The plan required precise timing, as a court hearing was scheduled for January 16, 1941. Bose feigned illness to secure a medical extension; his family doctor, Dr. Sunil Bose, refused to issue a certificate, deeming it unethical, but Dr. Mani De stepped in, later facing humiliation from the authorities for his involvement.
Family members were selectively involved to maintain secrecy. Bose's nephews Dwijendra and Aurobindo, along with Ila, assisted in preparations. His brother Sarat Chandra Bose was kept in partial confidence. Crucially, Dr. Sisir Kumar Bose, Sarat's son and a medical student uninvolved in politics, was chosen as the driver due to his efficiency and familiarity with the family's Wanderer car. Sisir had scouted alternative routes to avoid police checkpoints. Bose deceived even his closest kin by pretending to accept impending jail time, ensuring no suspicions arose.
Funds were arranged discreetly, and contingencies were planned for the journey ahead. Mian Akbar Shah, a Forward Bloc leader from the North-West Frontier, visited Bose on December 16, 1940, to finalize the Peshawar-Kabul leg. Shah would meet Bose in Peshawar and arrange escorts. The plan's success hinged on slipping past the surveillance net around the Elgin Road house—a feat that seemed impossible given the 62 agents stationed there.
The Night of the Escape
January 16, 1941, marked Bose's last public appearance at home. As evening fell, the house buzzed with normalcy, but tension simmered beneath. Around 1:30 AM on January 17, Bose, disguised in a long coat, pajamas, and a fez cap as Mohammed Zia-ud-din, bid a quiet farewell to his family. With the help of his nephews, he exited through a side door, evading the watchful eyes outside. Sisir Bose waited in the Wanderer car, engine humming softly.
The drive was nerve-wracking. They headed northwest towards Bararee in Bihar, a distance of about 250 miles, navigating dark roads and potential checkpoints. To maintain the ruse, they posed Zia-ud-din as a traveling insurance agent. Upon reaching Bararee, they rested at the home of Dr. Asoke Nath Bose, another nephew. Here, the deception continued: servants were told Zia-ud-din was a visitor from Calcutta, preventing any leaks.
From Bararee, Sisir drove Bose to Gomoh railway station, where he boarded the Delhi Kalka Mail train under his alias. This leg was critical; any recognition could unravel the plan. Bose arrived at Peshawar Cantonment on January 19, 1941. Mian Akbar Shah met him and escorted him via tonga (horse-drawn carriage) to the Taj Mahal Hotel, then to the home of Abad Khan, a trusted ally.
The escape from the house was a masterstroke of timing and disguise. Back in Calcutta, Bose's absence wasn't immediately noticed. His mother, Prabhavati Devi, feigned ignorance when police inquired, demanding to know what they had done with her son. The British concocted a story of Bose renouncing worldly life, but it was widely disbelieved. Poet Rabindranath Tagore expressed public concern, amplifying the sensation.
The Journey Through India: To the Frontier
With the house escape successful, the real perils began. In Peshawar, Bose faced a language barrier—he couldn't speak Pushtu, the local tongue. To blend in, he adopted the guise of a deaf-mute Pathan, complete with traditional attire. Mian Akbar Shah assigned Bhagat Ram Talwar, a communist and Forward Bloc sympathizer (posing as Rahmat Khan), as his escort. They portrayed Bose as an elderly relative seeking a cure at the Adda Sharif shrine.
On January 19, they left Peshawar by car towards Jamrud, the gateway to the tribal areas. The next day, they detoured to Garhi village on foot, where they were joined by armed Pathan bodyguards for protection. The North-West Frontier was a lawless region, rife with tribal feuds and British patrols. On January 26, 1941—India's Republic Day in modern times—they crossed into tribal territories beyond British control.
The trek covered over 200 miles of rugged terrain, mountains, rivers, and deserts, often on foot, with minimal food and rest. They stayed at the Adda Sharif Dargah, where the Pir provided shelter and rotated bodyguards. Reaching Lalpura by 9 PM one evening, they found refuge with an influential Khan who furnished a Persian letter of introduction: "Rahamat Khan and Ziauddin were residents of Lalpura and were going to the Dargah of Sakhi Saheb." This document proved invaluable when a harassing CID constable in Kabul Serai demanded bribes, taking Bose's gold wristwatch, a family heirloom from his father, Janaki Nath Bose.
Crossing the Kabul River posed another challenge. Without a boat, locals improvised a vessel from inflated leather sacks. The route bypassed Daka to avoid octroi duties, adding to the hardship. Near Thandi, exhaustion overtook Bose; he slept roadside while Rahmat flagged down vehicles. A lumbering lorry laden with goods finally stopped—they clambered atop, enduring freezing winds, snow, and whipping branches. Stops for tea provided a brief respite. At Batghake, they paid duties and bribes, leveraging the Khan's letter, arriving in Kabul Serai by late afternoon on January 31, 1941.
Perils in Kabul: Hiding and Diplomacy
Kabul was a den of intrigue, with spies from various powers. Language barriers compounded issues, Rahmat spoke only Pushtu, not Persian. They initially lodged in a dingy sarai near Lahori Gate, a filthy area teeming with potential informers. Bose's goal was Russian assistance, banking on Soviet sympathy for anti-colonial struggles and the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. Efforts to contact the Soviet ambassador faltered; they located the embassy but couldn't gain entry. Days of waiting culminated in stopping the ambassador's car, only to face skepticism.
Dejected, Bose turned to the German minister, Hans Pilger, via Indian bazaar contacts. Pilger, suspecting a British trap (possibly fueled by Communist Party of India agents), involved Berlin and the Italian embassy. Living conditions deteriorated; Bose fell ill in the unsanitary sarai and bribed a suspicious Afghan policeman with Rs 10, then his wristwatch. By mid-February, Rahmat secured shelter with Uttamchand Malhotra, a radio repairman in the Indian neighborhood. A nosy neighbor nearly exposed them, prompting a temporary relocation.
On February 22, 1941, Bose met Italian Ambassador Pietro Quaroni, who described him as "intelligent, able, full of passion, and without doubt the most realistic, the only realist among Indian nationalist leaders." Multiple meetings explored exit strategies. British intelligence intercepted an Italian telegram on February 27, alerting them to Bose's presence. Declassified documents reveal a British order on March 7, 1941, to assassinate Bose via Middle East operatives. Undeterred, Bose wrote articles like "Gandhism in the Light of Hegelian Dialectic" and "A Message to My Countrymen," entrusting them to Rahmat for delivery to Calcutta.
By March 3, Moscow approved a transit visa. On March 10, Bose's photo was inserted into Italian diplomat Orlando Mazzotta's passport. He handed a political thesis and a letter to his brother Sarat to Rahmat. On March 18, 1941, Bose departed Kabul by car with two Germans and one Italian, traversing the Hindu Kush mountains to Samarkand, then by train to Moscow (arriving March 27 or 31, per accounts), and finally by air to Berlin on March 28.
The Frontier's Wild Tribes
The Afghan frontier, with its Pathan tribesmen and unforgiving landscapes, tested Bose's endurance. This region, depicted in historical accounts as a hotbed of resistance against colonial forces, required navigating tribal loyalties and natural hazards. Bose's adoption of Pathan customs and silence as a "deaf-mute" was a clever adaptation, but the physical toll, cold nights, hunger, and constant vigilance were immense.
Bhagat Ram Talwar, Bose's escort, later emerged as a complex figure, a quintuple spy working for multiple powers. While crucial to the escape, he allegedly betrayed related rebellion plans, leading to arrests and tragedies among Bose's allies.
Arrival in Germany and the Aftermath
In Berlin, Bose was sheltered by the German Foreign Office under Dr. Adam von Trott zu Solz, a non-Nazi who later joined anti-Hitler plots. Bose established the Free India Center, recruited aides, and began broadcasts. He met Joachim von Ribbentrop and Adolf Hitler, pushing for Axis support for Indian independence. The Indian Legion was formed from POWs, and plans for sabotage unfolded. The escape's revelation caused uproar in India. Viceroy Lord Linlithgow was furious, while Deputy Commissioner Janvrin speculated that Bose sought foreign aid. Bose himself termed it "mahabhinishkraman"—a great departure—to assess the war and contribute to the fight. Bose's escape from his Elgin Road house exemplifies audacious leadership. It shifted the independence struggle's paradigm, inspiring future generations. Though his alliances during WWII remain controversial, the ingenuity of slipping past 62 agents, traversing 200 miles on foot, and navigating international diplomacy underscores his commitment. This journey, fraught with peril, transformed Bose from a confined leader to Netaji, a global symbol of resistance.
Bibliography
Chandrachur Ghose, Bose: The Untold Story Of An Inconvenient Nationalist, pp.376-454.
The Last Pagan Emperor: Julian the Apostate’s defence of Old Gods
Rome in 320 AD was an empire in the middle of a identity crisis. From the misty forests of Britain to the mountains of Armenia, the Roman world was shifting. For centuries, the "Old Gods": Jupiter, Mars, and Apollo were the heartbeat of the state. But a new movement called Christianity was sweeping through the cities, and after Emperor Constantine converted, the ancient altars began to go cold.
The old world was fading. But one Roman emperor tried to get back Rome to its old gods. His name is Flavius Claudius Julianus. History remembers him as the Julian the Apostate.
A Childhood Forged in Blood
Julian wasn’t born a rebel; he was born into a nightmare. After his uncle Constantine the Great died in 337 CE, the imperial family turned on itself. Julian’s cousin, Constantius II, ordered a massacre to wipe out any rivals. Julian was only six years old when he watched his father and eight of his relatives murdered.
He and his brother were only spared because they were too young to be a threat. Julian was sent away to a remote estate, raised under the watchful eye of the very man who killed his family, and forced to live as a devout Christian. He never forgot that "vicious hypocrisy." To the world, he was a quiet Christian boy. In private, he was a soul in revolt.
Julian became an obsessive student. He buried himself in the works of Homer, Plato, and Aristotle. While the Emperor’s spies watched him, he was secretly reading forbidden scrolls on pagan philosophy and magic.
He lived a double life. In the lecture halls of Athens and Ephesus, he pretended to be a pious Christian, but in the shadows, he was meeting with philosophers and occultists. He didn't have many friends; he had books. He even memorized Caesar’s accounts of the Gallic Wars. At the time, it seemed like a harmless hobby for a lonely nerd. Nobody knew those books were teaching Julian how to lead an army.
The Accidental General: Julian the Caesar
In 355 CE, the empire was falling apart on its borders. Constantius II needed a family member to lead the troops in Gaul, and Julian was the only one left alive. The Emperor sent him to the front lines, likely hoping the Germanic tribes would kill him so he wouldn't have to do it himself.
But the "bookish" prince surprised everyone. Julian used his study of ancient tactics to crush the barbarian tribes. His soldiers—many of them still pagans—absolutely loved him. When the Emperor tried to strip his power, the troops revolted. They surrounded Julian’s palace in Paris and declared him the new Emperor.
Artistic depiction of Julian
Civil war was coming, but fate stepped in: Constantius died on his way to the battle. In 360 CE, the survivor became the sole ruler of Rome.
The Intellectual War: "Against the Galileans"
Julian didn’t just want to reopen temples; he wanted to win the argument. He wrote a scathing book called Against the Galileans to show why he believed Christianity was a mistake. He used three main "logic bombs" to challenge the Church:
1. The "Local" God of the Hebrews
Julian argued that the God of the Bible wasn't a universal creator. He asked: if this God is the father of all people, why did he ignore the rest of the world for thousands of years? Why would a "universal" God restrict his laws to a tiny tribe in Palestine while leaving the rest of the human race to live in ignorance? To Julian, this proved the Jewish God was just one of many "national" gods, not the king of the universe.
2. A Lack of Achievement
He looked at history and asked a simple question: What has this tradition actually built? He pointed out that the pagan gods had granted Rome world-changing power and wisdom for two millennia. Meanwhile, the Hebrews had often lived as slaves or subjects. He mocked Christians for relying on "childish" stories while ignoring the courage and philosophy of the Greeks—wisdom that Christians ironically claimed was inspired by the devil.
3. The Great Hypocrisy
Julian’s sharpest critique was that Christians were "apostates" from everywhere. He argued they had abandoned the beauty of Greek culture, but they also refused to follow the actual laws of the Jews—like sacrifice and circumcision. He pointed to the Bible to show that Moses intended his laws to be eternal. He accused the Apostle Paul of "inventing" a new religion just to win converts, calling the whole movement "an insult to reason."
Julian's most famous move was a ban on Christian teachers. He forbade them from teaching the Greek classics. His logic was cutting: "If you don't believe in our gods, why are you teaching our books? If you think these authors are wrong about the divine, go back to your churches and teach Matthew and Luke."
“Did the pagan authors not receive all their learning from the gods? I think it absurd that Christians who explain the works of these writers should dishonour the gods whom the pagan authors honoured. If Christians feel that the pagan authors have gone astray concerning the gods, then let them go to their churches, and teach only Matthew and Luke”
By controlling the schools, he intended to ensure the next generation of elite Roman children would be raised as pagans. He used the term "Galilean" specifically to make the faith sound like a backwater, uncultured superstition from a provincial village.
The Failure of the "Pagan Church"
Julian had a strange problem: the Christians were better at being kind. He complained that the "impious Galileans" looked after not only their own poor but the pagan poor as well.
“ Baptism does not take away the spots of leprosy, nor the gout, nor the dysentery, nor any defect of the body… and also adultery, rapine, and all the crimes of the soul”
So, Julian tried to turn paganism into a "church." He told pagan priests they had to stop going to taverns and start acting morally. He told them they had to start giving to the poor. But the pagans didn't want a "Pagan Pope" telling them how to live. When he visited the famous Temple of Apollo at Daphne, expecting a crowd, he found only one old priest with a single goose to sacrifice. The fire was going out, and Julian was the only one left trying to fan the flames.
The Final Skirmish in Persia
In 363 CE, Julian led 80,000 men into the heart of Persia, hoping a massive victory would prove the old gods were still powerful. It was a disaster. He was lured too deep into enemy territory, and his supply lines were cut.
During a messy retreat, Julian heard a skirmish and rushed out to lead his men—forgetting to put on his armor. A spear caught him in the liver. That night, at just 32 years old, Julian died in his tent while debating philosophy with his friends.
The legend says his last words were, "Thou hast conquered, Galilean." Whether he said it or not, the sentiment was true. With his death, the last pagan light in the Roman Empire went out. His successor was a Christian, the temples were closed for good, and the world moved on.
But for two years, because of one man’s childhood resentment and a love for old books, the history of the world almost went in a completely different direction.
The True History of Mulakkaram
Artistic depiction of the story of Nangeli, an Ezhava woman to have lived in the early 19th century in Cherthala in the erstwhile princely state of Travancore in India, and supposedly cut off her breasts in an effort to protest against a tax on breast.
A commonly cited misconception associated with caste-based discrimination in Kerala is the so-called “Breast Tax” Central to this narrative is the legend of Nangeli, described as a lower-caste woman from nineteenth-century Travancore (present-day Kerala) who allegedly protested the imposition of this tax by severing her breasts and presenting them to a tax collector, an act that purportedly resulted in her death from blood loss. This story was even repeated by the ex-CJI DY Chandrachud. Although this story has gained prominence as a symbol of resistance against caste and gender oppression, several historians argue that the story lacks contemporaneous documentation and is rooted primarily in later folklore. Notably, early records do not even identify Nangeli by name, raising serious questions regarding the historical authenticity of the narrative.
The term “Breast Tax” commonly referred to as Mulakkaram, is used to describe a historical practice in the princely state of Travancore that is often interpreted as reflecting the intersection of caste and gender hierarchies. This tax is frequently portrayed as being imposed on women from lower-caste communities such as the Nadar and Ezhava, and is cited as an instrument of social subjugation during the nineteenth century. However, while certain taxation practices undoubtedly reinforced social stratification, the precise nature, scope, and intent of Mulakkaram remain subjects of scholarly debate. The lack of clear legal documentation suggests that some modern interpretations may rely more on retrospective moral frameworks than on verifiable historical evidence.
Historically, numerous taxation systems that appear unjust or irrational by contemporary standards were normalized within their original socio-cultural contexts. These fiscal measures reflected the economic priorities, political structures, and social norms of their respective periods. Over time, as ethical standards and societal values evolved, many such taxes were rendered obsolete or indefensible. For example, eighteenth-century England imposed a tax on wig powder, a commodity associated with aristocratic status and luxury. Given the material similarity between wig powder and other aromatic powders, this tax effectively extended to a wide range of cosmetic products. Comparable levies included the window tax, calculated based on the number of windows in a building; the candle tax, imposed on wax candle usage; and the soap tax, which targeted a basic household necessity. Although these measures generated revenue, they disproportionately affected certain social classes and were eventually abolished due to growing public opposition.
A similar pattern can be observed in the case of the Chinese Head Tax in Canada, enforced until 1923. This racially discriminatory policy targeted immigrants of Chinese origin and was explicitly designed to restrict Chinese migration while extracting economic benefit from an already marginalized community. Rooted in the xenophobic attitudes of the time, such a tax would be considered a blatant violation of equality and human rights if proposed in contemporary society. Its eventual repudiation illustrates the transformation of societal norms regarding race, justice, and citizenship.
These examples demonstrate how taxation policies, once consistent with prevailing ideologies, can later be recognized as manifestations of structural injustice. They underscore the necessity for fiscal systems to evolve in accordance with ethical progress and social equity. In this broader context, Kerala too witnessed several forms of taxation that appear unusual by modern standards but were widely accepted at the time of their implementation.
These included taxes such as Mulakkaram (breast tax), Meesakkaram (moustache tax), ladder tax, death tax, and taxes on roofing materials. Importantly, many of these were not formal statutory taxes enacted through royal decrees or codified laws. Instead, they often emerged from customary practices that gradually acquired the character of obligatory payments. Both men and women engaged in agricultural and domestic labor were required to pay various fees for rights related to land cultivation (Verumpattam) and residence (Koodiyedappu). Gender distinctions in these payments were symbolically indicated through references to physical markers such as breasts for women and moustaches for men, rather than constituting literal taxes on the body.
A persistent contemporary myth claims that lower-caste communities were systematically forced into nudity by upper castes through prohibitions on upper garments and punitive taxation. Historical evidence, however, complicates this assertion. Ethnographic works such as The Cochin Tribes and Castes (1909) document visual representations of both upper- and lower-caste women who appeared unclothed above the waist. These depictions suggest that upper-body nudity was influenced by regional customs, climatic conditions, and social norms rather than being solely the result of caste-based coercion.
This is an image of a tribe community called “Kadar,” where the women are covering the top part of their bodies.[1]
An image of a tribe community called “Nattu Malayan,” the women are covering the top part of their bodies.[2].
An image of a tribal community called “Nayadis” shows that the women are not covering the top part of their bodies.[3]
An image of a girl from the community called “Nair/Nayar,” the woman is not covering the top part of their body.[4]
Another image of a girl from the “Nair/Nayar”, community the woman is not covering the top part of their body.[5]
The traveler Johannes Nieuhof records in his work Voyages and Travels into Brazil and the East-Indies that:
“The 2nd of March with break of day,
The author goes to the queen of Koulang.The viceroy of the king of Travancore, called by them Gorepe, the chief commander of the Negroes, called Mattia del Pule, and myself, set out for the court of the queen of Koulang, which was then kept at Calliere. We arrived there about two o’clock in the afternoon, and as soon as notice was given of our arrival, we were sent for to court, where, after I had delivered the presents, and laid the money down for pepper, I was introduced into her majesty’s presence. She had a guard of above 700 soldiers about her, all clad after the Malabar fashion, the queen’s attire being no more than a piece of calico wrapped round her middle, the upper part of her body appearing for the most part naked, with a piece of calico hanging carelessly round her shoulders. Her ears, which were very long, her neck and arms were adorned with precious stones, gold rings and bracelets, and her head, covered with a piece of white calico. She was past her middle age, of a brown complexion, with black hair tied in a knot behind, but of a majestic mein, she being a princess who showed a great deal of good conduct in the management of her affairs. After I had paid the usual compliments, I showed her the proposition I was to make her in writing, which she ordered to be read twice, the better to understand the meaning of it, which being done, she asked, whether this treaty comprehended all the rest? and whether they were annulled by it? Unto which I having given her a sufficient answer, she agreed to all our propositions, which were accordingly signed immediately.”[6]
Several cinematic representations have portrayed the narrative of Nangeli and the so-called Breast Tax through a lens of heightened emotional appeal. These portrayals often rely on dramatization rather than verifiable historical evidence, thereby reinforcing a contested and largely unsubstantiated account. Such representations risk shaping public perception through selective storytelling rather than critical historical inquiry.
Several cinematic representations have portrayed the narrative of Nangeli and the so-called Breast Tax through a lens of heightened emotional appeal. These portrayals often rely on dramatization rather than verifiable historical evidence, thereby reinforcing a contested and largely unsubstantiated account. Such representations risk shaping public perception through selective storytelling rather than critical historical inquiry.
In parallel, this narrative has been appropriated by certain evangelical groups, who have employed it as part of broader conversion-oriented discourses aimed at marginalized communities, including sections of the Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe populations. Scholars have noted that the use of emotionally charged historical narratives in this manner can obscure historical complexities and instrumentalize suffering for ideological purposes.
Additionally, some commentators have attributed the abolition of the alleged Breast Tax to Tipu Sultan, despite the absence of credible historical evidence supporting such claims. These assertions often conflate distinct historical contexts and timelines, resulting in anachronistic interpretations. Furthermore, references to the Breast Tax have, in certain cases, been invoked to rationalize or contextualize episodes of communal violence, including the persecution of Mandyam Iyengar communities.[7] The use of disputed historical narratives to justify or explain acts of violence raises serious ethical and historiographical concerns, underscoring the importance of rigorous, source-based analysis.
Citations
[1] The Cochin Tribes and Castes, Vol 1, p.25.
[2] Ibid., p.35.
[3] Ibid., p.52.
[4] A Nair woman from Malabar (Kerala) by Klein & Peail Studio, Madras, early 20th century.
[5] https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Breast_exposed_Nayar_Girl.jpg
[6] Johannes Nieuhof, Voyages and Travels into Brasil and the East-Indies, p.218-19.
[7] Vikram Sampath, Tipu Sultan: The Saga of Mysore’s Interregnum (1760–1799),pp.288–289.
The British, The Congress, and The RSS
Is RSS a fascist organization? This is what the British RAj called them Congress after independence continued to call them as a fascist organization. What are the facts?
Time and again, Congress leaders spew baseless rhetoric about the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS). Recently, Priyank Kharge, a “Dalit” leader, three-time MLA from Chittapur, and full-time RSS-obsessed heckler and a part-time politician, never misses a chance to take cheap shots. In a recent ‘X’ post, he tried to mock the RSS with a series of hollow questions, including the tired claim that the RSS never took part in the freedom struggle.
Naturally, he didn’t bother to provide a shred of evidence. Expecting factual references from Congress’s noise-makers is like expecting logic from chaos; it’s simply not going to happen. Just like that, we repeatedly see Congress members shamelessly peddling absurd and historically illiterate comparisons between the RSS and the Nazis. This is not just a lazy slur; it is a deliberate distortion rooted in a calculated political history that deserves to be exposed. Let's start with the founder of RSS himself. Dr. Hedgewar. In 1905, as the flames of the Swadeshi movement swept across India, Bal Gangadhar Tilak and Antaji Damodar Kale founded the ‘Paisa Fund Society’ to strengthen the nationalist cause. A young, fiercely patriotic K. B. Hedgewar threw himself into the effort, going door-to-door to collect funds for the mission. Not stopping there, he joined the Arya Bandhav Veethika, an organisation formed by Nagpur’s revolutionaries to spread the spirit of Swadeshi, and began visiting schools, igniting in students the resolve to reject foreign goods and embrace indigenous pride.[1]
At just sixteen, Hedgewar rallied together a circle of sharp, restless students, forging a discussion group that debated the issues of the day. His growing nationalist fire soon drew him into the covert network of the Deshbandhu Samaj, an underground collective quietly shaping the revolutionary undercurrent of the era.[2] Hedgewar’s patriotism went further in September 1907, when he and several fellow students defiantly raised the slogan Vande Mataram during a school inspector’s visit. Ordered to apologize, Hedgewar refused outright, choosing principle over punishment. His unyielding stance led to his expulsion, and it was widely believed that he was the chief force behind the students' coordinated act of resistance.[3]
According to his childhood friend Balwant Mandelkar, Hedgewar, along with a small circle of determined students in Nagpur, had secretly learned bomb-making techniques in a clandestine workshop reportedly organized by B. S. Moonje between 1905 and 1906.[4] The following year, in August, Hedgewar threw a homemade bomb at a local police station. The attempt failed to hit its mark, and with no evidence left behind, he slipped through the grasp of colonial authorities. Yet his revolutionary spirit didn’t go unnoticed for long. He was soon arrested for delivering a fiery political speech demanding an end to British rule before a massive crowd gathered for the Dussehra burning of Ravana’s effigy. Thanks to the intervention of influential local leaders, he was released, and the charges were withdrawn. These events pushed Hedgewar deeper into nationalist circles.
N.H. Palkar, the author of ‘Man of the Millennia-Dr. Hedgewar’ notes that it was Guha who first ushered Hedgewar into the inner circle of the Anushilan Samiti, giving him access to one of Bengal’s most influential revolutionary networks.[5] Hedgewar is also believed to have formed a close association with Shyam Sundar Chakravarti, a hardened nationalist and vocal critic of Chittaranjan Das. Some accounts further claim that he maintained contact with towering figures such as Motilal Ghose, Rash Behari Bose, Ashutosh Mukherjee, and Bipin Chandra Pal. However, these assertions remain unproven and lack documentary evidence.[6]
Ramlal Bajpayee, a lawyer residing in Calcutta during this period, records in his autobiography that Hedgewar’s true purpose in going to Calcutta was far deeper than formal studies; he sought to master the workings of clandestine revolutionary societies and forge a living bridge between the nationalist movements of Maharashtra and Bengal. Driven by this mission, Hedgewar shuttled between Nagpur and Calcutta repeatedly from 1910 to 1913, cultivating networks, absorbing underground methods, and weaving together the revolutionary currents of both regions.[7]
Anushilan Samiti flag
Bhupati Majumdar, a young Anushilan Samiti member who would later serve as a minister in the West Bengal government, recalled in his memoirs the encounters he had with Hedgewar during those turbulent years. Majumdar states that Hedgewar, acting as the key liaison for Maharashtrian revolutionaries operating in Bengal, maintained direct contact with Jatindranath Mukherjee, the legendary ‘Bagha Jatin.’ He further claims that Hedgewar actively supported Jatin’s covert efforts to procure arms and ammunition from abroad, a daring enterprise that would later be known as the Hindu–German conspiracy.[8]
Whatever the precise extent of Hedgewar’s involvement with Bengal’s revolutionary networks, one fact was undeniable: the Calcutta police had already marked him as an ‘extremist student’. His movements did not go unnoticed. By early 1912, he had drawn the attention of the Director of Criminal Intelligence, and colonial surveillance tightened around him, reflecting the growing unease British authorities felt toward young nationalists who refused to stay within their control. Calcutta, reported:
On January 31st, Narayan Damodar Savarkar arrived at the Maratha Lodge in Prem Chand Boral's Street and took up his residence there. It is said that Dr. S.K. Mullik is not prepared to admit him as a student of the National Medical College. Soon after his arrival Savarkar was introduced to Hidgewar (sic), Ane, and Naik, three well-known extremist students of the Santi Niketan Maratha Lodge.
On February 3rd, D.V. Vidhwans, the son-in-law of B.G. Tilak, arrived at the Maratha Lodge in Prem Chand Boral's Street from Poona on his way to see Tilak in Mandalay. On his arrival the student Hidgewar mentioned above went and fetched Babu Shyam Sundar Chakravarti (one of the deportees) to the Lodge, and all three had a long conversation. Shyam Sundar Chakravarti is again coming to the front as an extremist.[9]
Hedgewar travelled tirelessly across the Hindi-speaking regions of central India, widening the reach of the weekly and, in the process, forging relationships that would later prove indispensable when he founded the Sangh.[10] His growing disillusionment with the Congress’s definition of Swaraj, as nothing more than self-government within the British Empire, pushed him to chart his own path. He established the Nagpur National Union, an organisation committed to the goal of complete independence.[11]
Portrait of Keshav Baliram Hedgewar (1 April 1889 – 21 June 1940)
Yet this ideological divergence did not prevent him from plunging deeper into the Congress’s organisational activities. These experiences only sharpened his belief in the necessity of a permanent, disciplined cadre. Observing how, in his words, ‘Congressmen are good orators who impress people in the first meeting, but their impact fades from public memory within two or three days,’[12] Hedgewar became ever more convinced that India needed a force rooted in long-term organisation rather than fleeting rhetoric. Hedgewar went ahead and joined the non-cooperation movement in 1920 and addressed several meetings in the party as well as in Bombay.[13]
In 1922, Hedgewar, with the support of Ganga Prasad Pande, set up a National Wrestling School, an institution meant to instill discipline, strength, and nationalist spirit in young men. But the venture soon drew the unwelcome gaze of the Punjab Police and the CID in Nagpur. Their persistent interference and surveillance ultimately forced the school to shut down, yet another reminder of how colonial authorities sought to crush even the smallest sparks of organised national awakening.[14]
To spread the ideals of the Congress and boldly champion the demand for complete independence, Hedgewar, along with a few prominent Congress colleagues, launched a new Marathi daily, Swatantrya, in January 1924. His unwavering sympathy for revolutionary nationalism reverberated through his speeches, writings, and the paper’s editorial line. But his radical stance soon alarmed the more cautious sections of society. Advertisers began to withdraw, and the revenue stream steadily collapsed. Within a year, by January 1925, Swatantrya became financially unsustainable and was forced to shut down.[15]
In 1930, the entire nation was ablaze with the Civil Disobedience Movement. In July, Hedgewar travelled to the small town of Pusad in Yavatmal district to join the satyagraha, temporarily handing over the responsibilities of sarsanghchalak to Dr. L. B. Paranjpe. While in Pusad, he intervened to prevent the slaughter of a cow near the riverbed, an act that sent shockwaves through the town. After addressing a protest gathering there, he moved on to Yavatmal to participate in another act of civil resistance: cutting grass in a government-reserved pasture. Hedgewar was arrested on 21 July along with his fellow satyagrahis and sentenced to nine months’ imprisonment.[16] They were housed in makeshift warehouse barracks near the Akola prison, nearly 250 kilometres from Nagpur. As the harsh conditions took a toll on his health, the prison superintendent intervened, and Hedgewar was released on 14 February 1931. It had been over five years since Hedgewar had founded the RSS, and its roots were already spreading. Even during his stay in Pusad, he established a shakha (branch), planting yet another seed of the growing movement.[17] After his release from prison, Hedgewar emerged with renewed resolve. He set out to elevate the RSS from a regional initiative to a truly national organisation, one capable of shaping disciplined, dedicated workers across the length and breadth of the country.
The government of the Central Provinces and Berar had begun watching the RSS with growing unease, scrutinising its every move and debating what punitive measures might be imposed. After the Dussehra celebrations of 1932, official reports voiced explicit concern over Hedgewar’s expanding influence and uncompromising views, signalling that the colonial administration now considered the RSS a force worth monitoring, if not suppressing:
“In the south of the province the most important political feature has been the celebration at Nagpur by the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh of the Dasehra festival, of which advantage is taken each year to hold a ceremonial worship of arms and a review of volunteers. On the present occasion 1,000 uniformed volunteers, under the leadership of Dr. Munje (sic), headed by a band and accompanied by their ambulances, marched past an assemblage which included the Bhonsla Raja G.D. Savarkar, Dr Hidgewar (sic), and others. The drill is reported to have been good. The chief speakers at these celebrations were Dr Munje (sic), and Dr Hidgewar (sic), the second of whom gave an objectionable and provocative address, the main gist of which was that the settlement of the political future of India was for the Hindus alone to decide. No interference either by foreigners or by non-Hindu residents of India should be brooked. The question whether action should be taken against the speaker is under Government's consideration”.[18]
By this time, the government’s continuous surveillance had given it a clearer, though deeply distorted, view of the RSS. Certain sections of the colonial administration began drawing reckless parallels between the organisation and European extremist movements, going so far as to label Hedgewar as a ‘Hitler,’ a comparison rooted more in British fear than fact.
In February 1935, the Criminal Investigation Department’s Special Branch in Allahabad submitted a report to the Chief Secretary of the United Provinces, noting the rapid rise of the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh, described as a volunteer corps parallel to the Congress’ Hindustani Seva Dal. The report detailed the Sangh’s growing network across the Central Provinces, Berar, and the United Provinces, along with its ambition to establish branches throughout the country. It further observed that the Sangh’s presence in the United Provinces was, at that point, concentrated mainly in Benares and strongly centered around disciplined, military-style drills:
The object of this organization is to infuse a military spirit in the Hindus, to impart physical training and to educate them in the use of lathis, spears and daggers and (as was publicly announced at a meeting in Nagpur in 1932) to build up an All-India Hindu Volunteer Corps on the same lines as those of the Nazis under Hitler in Germany. Dr. Hidgewar (sic) (C. P. Who's Who no. 114) is the Hitler of the Sangh.
The All-India Mahasabha held at Delhi in September 1932 passed a resolution admiring the efforts of Dr. Hidgewar for starting this organization and appealed to Hindus all over India to open branches of this organization.[19]
Here we see an almost identical line of accusation, but shockingly, it isn't from the British. It comes from Jawaharlal Nehru. Nehru wrote in a letter on 21 November 1947:
… [the] RSS is an injurious and dangerous organization and fascist in the strictly technical sense of the word. We have known about it for many years and some of our colleagues have been up against it for a long time. It is bad enough in Maharashtra where it originated. But the combination of RSS and Punjab has produced something worse. I have little doubt that we have to stand up against this … They are very well organised but extraordinarily narrow in their outlook and completely lacking in the appreciation of any basic problem.[20]
According to Gandhi’s private secretary, Pyarelal Nayar, whenever someone pointed out the good work of the RSS such as ‘refugee relief camps, showing discipline, courage, and capacity for hard work’, Gandhi used to respond by drawing the same parallel as the British did. Comparing the RSS with the Nazis. Gandhi used to respond with, ‘But don’t forget, even so had Hitler’s Nazis and the Fascists under Mussolini.’[21]
Because of the RSS’s disciplined social work and nationalist character, the British administration consistently branded the RSS as a ‘communal’ organisation. This colonial label, weaponised to divide Indian society, soon influenced sections of the Congress as well, leading them to repeat the same charge without scrutiny. It raises a striking question: why did the very organisation distrusted by the British Raj also become a target of suspicion for the Congress?
By the time of 1939, the Sangh had come under the surveillance of not just the provincial authorities but also the central government. On 11 July 1939, the Home Department at Simla dispatched a confidential note to the Chief Secretary of the provincial administration, consolidating all intelligence gathered on the RSS. The report stated that the Sangh’s objective was ‘to train Hindu youths to defend Hinduism and the Hindu community, and to inspire Hindus with a spirit of nationalism and self-confidence, to make them a great national force.’ The note summarized the key incidents of the preceding years to highlight the political, philosophical, and organizational characteristics:
The Sangh had been taking interest in the political movements of the country as a result of which the Central Provinces Government in their circular letter No. 2352-2158-IV, dated the 15/16th December 1932, felt it necessary to issue an order advising Government servants of the communal and political nature of this Sangh and, at the same time, forbidding them to become members or to participate in any of the activities of the organization. This roused the indignation of its chief sponsors, who gave vent to their feelings at the "Sankranti" celebrations on 10th January 1933. Dr Hedgewar asserted that the Government had acted on base insinuations made against the Sangh and denied that it was either a political or a communal body. Sir M.V. Joshi who presided, however admitted that it was a communal organization, but endeavoured to justify its existence in the interests of the Hindus, who he said must be able to defend themselves in times of need. He further said that the Sangh was opposed to the idea of non-violence. Dr Moonje went even further by favouring offence rather than defence and advocated a policy of "Strike first".[22]
By July 1939, Hedgewar’s health had deteriorated severely, forcing him to stay in a rented bungalow at Deolali near Nashik. Yet even as illness confined him, the movement he had founded was expanding with astonishing speed. A Special Branch report from this period reveals the scale of the Sangh’s growth: while the Central Provinces alone had nearly 9,000 members, more than 30,000 others had joined across various provinces, with around 350 shakhas operating nationwide. The report noted that the Sangh believed in cultivating physical strength and discipline, but, based on all available information, concluded that it ‘certainly does not seem to be an unlawful association’.[23]
By the time Dr. Hedgewar’s health finally gave way, he had already transformed the RSS from a modest gathering of a few young men in 1925 into a disciplined force of nearly 40,000 members by 1940. His passing on 21 June 1940 marked the close of a foundational era. From that moment onward, the task of leading, shaping, and expanding the Sangh fell to M. S. Golwalkar, the man millions would revere simply as Guruji.
When the Fourth Security Conference convened at Nagpur in March 1943, the British administration placed the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) on its formal agenda, a telling sign of how seriously the colonial state had begun to view the organisation. The minutes of the conference, apart from revealing the government's suspicion, offer a glimpse into how M.S. Golwalkar had managed the Sangh’s rapid expansion in the preceding years. To the government, the RSS had become a “potential danger.” It was catalogued as anti-British, exhibiting a pro-Japanese inclination in the wartime climate, and, in the eyes of the colonial intelligence machinery, its “fascist tendencies are obvious” in both conduct and organisation. Even as its network spread swiftly across provinces, drawing in increasing numbers of Hindu youth, British intelligence still could not fully decipher the deeper forces driving this surge. Yet on one point the government read the Sangh accurately: the RSS was clearly playing a long game. Golwalkar was steering the organisation away from open confrontation with the state, conserving its energies for a larger moment. The conference recorded this with cold precision: “It is felt that the true purpose of its being lies in the future, and that its revelation will be to the accompaniment of disorder.”[24]
The intelligence departments had gathered a considerable volume of information on the Sangh’s long-term intentions, yet they remained unsure how much of it could be trusted. But such ambiguity was hardly unusual, uncertainty is the permanent shadow of intelligence work, and every assessment carries within it a margin of doubt that must be calculated into policy. By 1939, however, one report stood out for its reliability. It stated that the Sangh’s leadership had reached a strategic decision: they would withdraw from overt political activity for the foreseeable future. Any premature plunge into the political arena, they believed, might expose the organisation to repression and threaten its very survival. Instead, the Sangh dedicated itself to a slower, deeper project, the ideological moulding of Hindu youth, training them for a future confrontation, a future struggle for India’s freedom as envisioned through the Sangh’s own ideological lens. The report said:
They had no faith in democracy and believed that freedom could only be won by violence. In 1940, it was reported that at the end of the annual forty day training selected members of the Sangh are as a rule, tried for a period of three years in different capacities and the most reliable of them are unobtrusively introduced into various departments of Government, such as the army, navy, postal, telegraph, railway and administrative services in order that there may be no difficulty in capturing control over the administrative departments in India when the time comes. This rather sensational inside account of the secret programme of the Sangh cannot be accepted literally, but it can be stated without exaggeration that the Sangh has been for some years working out a long-term policy of steady preparation for the attainment of its ultimate objective of Hindu supremacy.[25]
In December 1942, the Deputy Commissioner of Police in Jubbulpore (Jabalpur) reported that V. D. Savarkar’s call for Hindu youth to enlist in the ongoing war was not an act of loyalty to the British, but part of a deliberate long-term strategy. Savarkar viewed military recruitment as a rare opportunity for young Hindus to acquire discipline, training, and combat experience, resources that would later prove essential for a future revolution aimed at securing and safeguarding India’s independence. This objective, the report noted, was not immediate but strategic and time-bound, designed to mature only when circumstances were favourable. The report said:
It has been made sufficiently clear by the Hindu Sabhaites during the course of their usual talks that V.D. Sawarkar does not think that time was ripe for revolution in the country. The Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh organization, in the opinion of these leaders, which is yet to be sufficiently organized for the said purpose is likely to take every precaution to avoid its being brought to the notice of the Government adversely whereby the Government may not be able to declare the organization illegal or check its progress to the detriment of the interests of the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh. The organization as a whole remained aloof from the present subversive activities indulged in by the Congressmen.[26]
Meanwhile, Golwalkar was quietly forging a disciplined and tightly knit cadre, a network of volunteers trained to obey his command and prepared to assume any role he envisioned, even those the authorities feared might someday turn subversive. The Intelligence Bureau’s internal comparison between Golwalkar and Inayatullah Khan Mashriqi of the Khaksar movement is telling: Mashriqi was dismissed as an erratic, loud, and unstable megalomaniac, while Golwalkar emerged as the more dangerous figure, calm, calculating, and organizationally brilliant. Though the immediate threat posed by his activities seemed distant, the IB warned that leaving him unchecked could, in time, lead to the rise of a highly disciplined, ideologically driven force with the potential to disrupt public order on a far greater scale.[27]
Hedgewar and his early followers during an RSS meeting in 1939
Congress members routinely lie by claiming that the RSS apologised to the British. The historical record says the exact opposite. The myth of Congress's “defiance” collapsed when prominent Gandhian followers were arrested for striking against the colonial government, their bravado evaporated within days. Nearly 200 of them hurriedly wrote apology letters to the British authorities, begging for release.[28]
Let us end with a fun fact: Pandit Nehru, a man deeply shaken, still reeling from India’s humiliating defeat at the hands of China in 1962, took a step few had imagined. In a moment that revealed both his vulnerability and the gravity of the national crisis, he invited the RSS to march in the 1963 Republic Day parade in Delhi.[29]
In response to Nehru’s invitation, a contingent of RSS volunteers in khaki marched in the 1963 Republic Day parade, an event that stunned many political observers. Nehru never explained how he came to rely upon, and even momentarily admire, an organization he had once virtually indicted for Gandhi’s assassination in 1948. Yet the reasons can be read clearly in the circumstances of the time and in the long shadow of the freedom struggle. Nehru had witnessed, with helpless anguish, how Gandhi’s creed of absolute non-violence and his insistence on ‘Hindu–Muslim unity at any cost’ had failed to prevent the ghastly bloodshed of Partition. And now, in 1962, he stood devastated by another blow, India’s crushing defeat at the hands of China, a defeat born largely of his own idealistic underestimation of defence preparedness. The RSS, by contrast, had consistently preached self-discipline, preparedness, and the necessity of strong self-defence against aggression. For years, its volunteers had offered their services in situations of internal disorder, often at moments when the state itself appeared unready. The RSS volunteers played an important role and, despite having big ideological differences, backed the war efforts of the Nehru government.[30] In the grim aftermath of 1962, Nehru, a shattered statesman confronting the consequences of his pacifist convictions, seems to have recognized the value of a force he had long dismissed. And so, for the first and only time, the RSS was invited to march down Rajpath, its disciplined ranks reflecting a philosophy the prime minister could no longer ignore.[31]
Citations
[1] Chandrachur Ghose, ‘Many Shades of Saffron’, (2025), pp.11-12.
[2] Ibid., p.12.
[3] Rakesh Sinha, ‘Dr. Keshav Baliram Hedgewar’, pp.8-11. Quoted from Chandrachur Ghose, ‘Many Shades of Saffron’, (2025), p.12.
[4] N.H. Palkar, ‘Man of the Millennia-Dr. Hedgewar’, Kindle Edition. p.25. Ibid.
[5] Ibid., p.57. Ibid.15
[6] Rakesh Sinha, ‘Dr. Keshav Baliram Hedgewar’, p.18. Ibid.
[7] Ibid., pp. 57-66. Ibid.
[8] Bhupat Majumdar, ‘Agnijuger Onyotomo Nayak Dr Hedgewar', pp. 13-17. Ibid.16
[9] Calcutta Records 1-1912, Home Department, Proceedings, April 1912, nos.136-139, National Archives, New Delhi. Ibid.
[10] Walter Andersen, The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh 1: Early Concerns. Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 7, No. 11, 1972, pp. 589+591-97. Ibid.18
[11] Rakesh Sinha, ‘Dr. Keshav Baliram Hedgewar’, p.33-34. Ibid.
[12] Ibid. p.35. Ibid.
[13] Ibid. pp.43-44. Ibid.29
[14] Ibid. pp.64-65. Ibid.34
[15] Ibid. pp. 66-71. Ibid.36
[16] N.H. Palkar, ‘Man of the Millennia-Dr. Hedgewar’, Kindle Edition. pp. 310-311. Ibid.52
[17] Sachin Nandha, Hedgewar: A Definitive Biography, p. 35. Ibid.
[18] Fortnightly Reports on the Internal Political Situation for the Month of October 1932, Home Department, Government of India, File No. 18/13/32 Poll, National Archives, New Delhi. Ibid. p.58
[19] File No. 22/55/35-Political, Home Department, National Archives, New Delhi. Ibid. p.66
[20] Nehru’s letter to Dalip Singh, 21 November, 1947, SWJN, series 2, vol. 4, pp. 330–333.
[21] Pyarelal Nayar, Mahatma Gandhi: The Last Phase, Vol 2, p.440.
[22] Request by the C.P. Government for Notes on the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh and the Khaksara Movement, File No. 92/39 Poll, Home Department, Government of India, National Archives, New Delhi. Quoted by Chandrachur Ghose, ‘Many Shades of Saffron’, (2025), pp.76-77.
[23] Information regarding the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh, the Khaksar movement and the question of taking action against them, File No. 289, Govt of the Central Provinces and Berar, National Archives, New Delhi. Ibid. p.78-79.
[24] Note on the organization, aims etc. of the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Singh File No. 28/8/42-POLL (I), Government of India, Home Department, National Archives, New Delhi. Ibid.p.89-90
[25] Ibid. Ibid.90-91.
[26] Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh: Organization and Development in Each District of C.P. and Berar at the End of the Year 1942, KW to FN 28/3/1945, Home Department, Government of India, National Archives, New Delhi. Ibid. p.102.
[27] Activities of the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh, File No. 28/3/43-Poll (3). Home Department, Government of India, National Archives, New Delhi. Ibid. p103.
[28] Rajmohan Gandhi, Patel: A Life, p.115.
[29] M.G. Chitkara, Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh: National Upsurge, APH Publishing Corporation, 2004, p.275.
[30] https://www.firstpost.com/india/right-word-how-the-eternal-backroom-boys-of-rss-played-stellar-role-in-nation-building-11056551.html
[31] M.S. Golwalkar, Bunch of Thoughts, p.224.
The "Infidels" Who Defended a Golconda Sultanate: The Forgotten Story of Akkanna and Madanna
The untold story of Akkanna and Madanna, the brothers who reformed the Golconda Sultanate, allied with Shivaji Maharaj, and fought to the death against the Mughal Empire.
In 1677, two Brahmin ministers did the unthinkable: they convinced a Muslim Sultan to fund the revival of Hindu temples across the Carnatic. But their plan went deeper than religious patronage. They were using the Sultan’s own gold to systematically dismantle foreign control and empower local Deccani of Golconda Sultanate.
When Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj arrived in Hyderabad to seal this alliance, the implications terrified the Mughal Emperor, Aurangzeb. From his throne in Delhi, he branded the brothers "infidels" and eventually declared a brutal holy war to crush them.
They weren't kings or generals. They were accountants who stole a kingdom back from its colonizers. This is the story of Akkanna and Madanna.
Madanna and Akkanna were two Brahmin brothers who rose to prominence in the Golkonda sultanate. Ultra Patriots of the land hate by Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, His chroniclers used harsh words against these brothers.
The Persian Colony
To understand why these brothers were so dangerous to the status quo, you have to meet them at their lowest. Born Akkarasu and Madhava Bhanu ji Panthulu in Hanumakonda, they grew up in absolute poverty. They were Niyogi Brahmins—a sub-caste that traditionally took up the sword and the pen rather than the priesthood. But above all, they were Mulki—true sons of the soil.
While they scrapped for a living in the dusty markets of the Deccan, the elite looked toward Iran.
For 160 years, the Golconda Sultanate had been a Persian colony in spirit. The Qutub Shahi rulers viewed themselves as junior partners to the Safavid Empire of Iran. The Shah’s name was read in Friday sermons. The high offices—Revenue, Treasury, Military, Judiciary were a closed club for the Afaqi (Westerners). Persians, Arabs, and Turkomans held a monopoly on power.
Ships plied annually between the Qutub Shahi ports and Bandar ‘Abbas on the Persian Gulf. Traders and mercenaries arrived from Iran, were given warm welcomes, extracted massive wealth, and left.
The archetype of this era was Mir Jumla. The son of a poor oil-seller from Iran, he used the Golconda state machinery to become the richest man in the Sultanate. He owned the diamond mines, controlled the global trade, and even licensed the export of native Hindus as slaves to European colonies. When he was finished plundering, he defected to the Mughals, taking the legendary Kohinoor diamond with him.
To men like Mir Jumla, the Deccan was just a resource to be harvested.
Akkanna saw this clearly. In a rare, candid moment with a Dutch merchant, he drew a sharp line in the sand:
“...you yourself can imagine which government serves the king best, ours or that of the Moors [Muslims]; ours being fullheartedly devoted to the welfare of the country, while we are not people who have or seek other countries, but that of the Moors is only to the end of becoming rich and then to leave for those places which they consider to be either their fatherland or holy. - Akkanna (1683)”
Portrait of Akkanna
Akkanna’s comment with Dutch trader was a remarkably progressive statement, It was a proto-nationalist sentiment in a feudal age. Akkanna and Madanna wanted to stop the bleeding.
The Coup of the Clerks
Madanna saw the rot from the inside while working as a secretary for the Finance Minister, Syed Muzaffar. He was a "man of the pen," mastering the complex bookkeeping of the state and learning Persian better than the foreigners who ruled him.
He eventually caught the eye of the Sultan, Abu’l Hasan, who felt his authority waning under his overbearing Finance Minister, Syyed Muzaffar. In 1674, Sultan took Madanna under his confidence and made his move. In a bloodless political maneuver, Madanna helped the Sultan regain control of his own government, ousting his former boss.
The Sultan appointed Madanna as Peshwa (Prime Minister), granting him the title Surya Prakasa Rao. After nearly two centuries, a native Hindu had broken the glass ceiling. The Persian nobility was stunned. The sons of the soil were finally in control.
Fixing the Broken Engine: Ijaradari System (Tax Farming)
When Madanna took the reins, the economy was a nightmare. The state relied on the Izara system tax farming. Villages and ports were auctioned to the highest bidder. These Ijaradars paid the state upfront and then squeezed the peasantry for profit.
Akkanna with his armed guard.
If a district was auctioned for one lakh, the revenue farmer extracted ten lakhs. They didn't care about famines or harvests.Taxes were extracted irrespective of produce. The wealth of the countryside was siphoned into Hyderabad to be enjoyed by Persian nobility(Afaqi), while the natives starved.
The human cost was staggering. In 1659 alone, 22,000 parents were so desperate they sold their children into slavery or allowed them to be emasculated as eunuchs near Golconda Fort just to survive.
Madanna’s solution was radical. He abolished the Izara system. He replaced short-term auctioneers with salaried government officials, local Hindus and Deccani Muslims who had a stake in the land’s future were prioritized in Government employment. . In deserted villages, he offered a nine-year zero-tax policy to entice farmers back from the forests.
He then turned to the diamond mines, where 60,000 people worked in near-slavery. Madanna centralized the mines under the state, providing workers with thatched-roof homes and real salaries.
Taming the European Menace
While rebuilding the heart of the Deccan, the brothers turned their gaze to the coast. The Dutch, French, and English had long treated the Coromandel Coast like a playground, bribing their way out of taxes.
Madanna changed the rules.
When the English Governor, Baron Langharn, tried to evade taxes through the usual bribes, Madanna placed his nephew, Linganna, in charge of the strategic Poonamallee district. Akkanna personally audited the English East India Company’s records. When the English defied them, Madanna ordered a total blockade of Madras.
Suddenly, the "arrogant" English was cut off. Realizing bribery was dead, they submitted and paid their fines. Madanna repeated these blockades in 1678 and 1680. He treated native and foreign traders as equals, shattering the European notion of racial superiority. It is no wonder European records from this time are full of complaints about "Brahmin dominance."
The Grand Strategy: The Chhatrapati Shivaji Alliance
While the Persian nobility wanted to fight the Marathas, Madanna saw the bigger picture. He viewed Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj not as a rival, but as the protector of their civilization.
Madanna convinced the Sultan to fund Shivaji’s mission to restore Hindu power in the South.
“to put a part of Karnataka under Hindu domination and to make himself a powerful protector of Shivaji”
In March 1677, Shivaji Maharaj arrived in Hyderabad. The brothers received him at the city gates. They subsidized his entire Southern Campaign: The Dakshin Digvijaya, using the Sultanate’s treasury and artillery. Because of this alliance, Shivaji was able to repair and revive countless temples across South India that still stand today.
To protect this vision, Madanna decentralized the power of the unreliable Jagirdars and built a professional "Shahi Army" of 40,000 cavalry, paid directly by the treasury. He doubled the salaries of local soldiers and appointed his brother Akkanna as Commander-in-Chief.
The Emperor Aurangzeb Rage
To Aurangzeb, this was intolerable. A Shia Sultan allied with a "Maratha infidel," guided by Brahmin ministers who were building temples? It was a declaration of war against his beliefs.
In 1681, Prince Akbar, the Emperor’s own son, sought refuge with Chhatrapati Sambhaji. This spark brought the full fury of Aurangzeb to the Deccan. Aurangzeb arrived in the Deccan with a vast army, expecting a quick victory. But the Deccan stood together. Madanna guided Sultan Abu’l Hasan to propose a triple alliance: The Marathas would reinforce Bijapur, while 40,000 Qutub Shahi horsemen would meet the Mughals in the field.
In August 1685, the Mughal army marched on Golconda. Madanna dispatched a force under the command of Muhammad Ibrahim, Shaikh Minhaj, and his own nephew, Rustam Rao. For four grueling months, the Golconda army held the Mughals to a bloody stalemate at Malkhed.
Aurangzeb realized that valor alone would not win this war only gold would.
The Emperor targeted the greed of the Commander-in-Chief, Muhammad Ibrahim. He bought the general’s loyalty with a massive bribe and promises of Mughal titles. Ibrahim defected, leaving the Qutub Shahi forces leaderless and betrayed.
The Last Stand
The Mughals entered Hyderabad on October 8, 1685. They looted the city unopposed.
The Sultan, confused by the betrayal, fled to Golconda Fort. Inside the walls, corrupt officials and extremists saw their opening. They blamed the "Brahmin Ministers" for the ruin. A loyal slave overheard a queen urging the Sultan to execute the brothers to appease the enemy—a sentiment supported by the very elites Madanna had displaced.
The end was brutal. Akkanna and Madanna were murdered while returning to their home. Their bodies were tied to horses and dragged through the streets. Madanna’s head was sent to Aurangzeb as a trophy; Akkanna’s head was crushed under the foot of an elephant.
Akkanna & Madanna Dead bodies dragged through the streets of Hyderabad by a mob, Dutch Paintings, Source Rijksmuseum
A massive genocide followed. Brahmin homes were burned, and countless Hindus were slaughtered in the chaos. Aurangzeb lived up to his expectation as the “archenemy of Brahmins”
Aurangzeb called them bigots. History books largely ignored them. But Akkanna and Madanna were never anti-Muslim; they were ultra-patriots who believed the wealth of the Deccan belonged to the people of the Deccan . They were the last shield of the kingdom.
When they fell, Golconda fell. Within a year, the Sultanate was erased from the map, absorbed into the Mughal Empire
How a "Prostitute Caste" Lie Justified Brothel Slavery in British India
In 1891, the British Army in India created a system of state-sponsored sexual slavery. They called it the Contagious Diseases Act, claiming they were simply regulating a "prostitute caste."
The horror? They were kidnapping and trafficking Indian women, some as young as 14, purely to ensure the health and morale of British soldiers. This system—enforced by debt, fines, and jail-like Lock Hospitals—was a direct consequence of colonial classism and military necessity.
The Unseen Crisis: Three Million People and a Toxic Lie
In the late 19th century, the British Army in India faced a crisis that threatened its operational effectiveness. By 1891, a staggering 25% of British soldiers were suffering from Sexually Transmitted Diseases (STDs).
The official solution—disguised under the Contagious Diseases Act—was a brutal, government-regulated system of prostitution operating within military cantonments. Officials conveniently blamed the crisis on the supposed "lax morals" of Indian women and the existence of a fabricated "prostitute caste."
However, when two brave British women arrived to investigate, they uncovered a horror: a colonial state-sponsored prostitution racket that enslaved, trafficked, and ruthlessly exploited young Indian women, some as young as 14, to ensure the health and morale of the common British soldier.
This is the story of how class, race, and Victorian hypocrisy led the British Raj to create a system of institutionalized sex slavery.
The British Soldier: From "Scum of the Earth" to Colonial Master
To understand why the colonial state created this system, we must look at the soldiers themselves and the strict class hierarchy of Victorian Britain:
The Tommy’s Class Divide
The Rank and File ("The Tommy"): The average British soldier in India came from the working poor—rural laborers, industrial workers, or the unemployed. They enlisted out of poverty, debt, or desperation. Their pay was low, discipline was harsh, and social mobility was nonexistent. In Britain, they were often stigmatized as the "scum of the earth."
The Officer Class: Officers were exclusively drawn from the aristocracy and landed gentry. They maintained separate social spheres, looked down upon the rank and file, and had access to high-class social relationships.
The Need for "Licensed Vice"
Ordinary soldiers were strongly discouraged from bringing wives to India due to cost. Military authorities, driven by Victorian morality, feared that repressed desire would lead to increased homosexuality or, worse, sexual aggression toward "High Born" aristocratic British women.
Captain Lyons of the Bengal Infantry, seated smoking a hookah, enjoying the performance of nautch girls
Law and medicine were weaponized to enforce this Victorian solution: the systematic forced enslavement of thousands of Indian women to serve the soldier's "unavoidable" needs.
The Cantonment System: Military Law and Sexual Slavery
The British carved out self-contained military towns called Cantonments across India. Within these areas, the military created government-regulated brothels known as Chaklas. The 25% hospitalization rate among European troops severely reduced the army's combat readiness & high medical cost. The solution was state-regulated prostitution, which was cheaper than increasing the number of soldiers' wives.
Indigenous Indian troops consistently showed far lower STD rates (only 5.4% venereal admission) than Europeans, a fact British officials could not explain, so they claimed Natives to be immune due to repeated infection (which is not medically correct reason) choosing instead to blame the "lax native morals" of India for tempting their young men.
Enslavement via Price
Women in the Chaklas were only allowed to serve British soldiers. The price for their services was fixed by military officials at a mere 4 annas per visit, ensuring the service was cheap enough for soldiers to never miss an opportunity—a rate that acted as a debt trap for the women. The income earned was barely enough for women to sustain the livelihood after paying fines, rent and other living cost, she barely had enough for herself.
Recruitment and The Debt Trap of the Chaklas
The women who ended up in the Chaklas were not willing participants; they were victims of sexual enslavement enforced by the colonial state. Cantonment magistrates paid agents (Mahaldarnis) to procure women, often demanding "a very young, attractive girl."
Methods included:
Deception and false promises of employment.
Coercion and outright kidnapping by police going into poor villages.
Exploitation during famines (as late as WWII in Bengal) where women had no other means of survival.
The Bondage of the Lock Hospital: The core mechanism of enslavement was the mandatory, weekly, indecent genital examination at the Lock Hospital.
Unequal Enforcement: These strict, humiliating restraints were enforced only on local women to ensure their bodies were disease-free for the soldiers. British soldiers were rarely subjected to regular checks, citing "reduction of morale."
Punishment: If diagnosed with an STD, women were forcibly detained in the hospital (treated like a jail) until cured. If deemed "unfit to practise prostitution" or if they tried to escape, they were fined, imprisoned for up to 7 years for "Contempt of Court," or kicked out to starve, often hundreds of miles from home with their British-born children.
Financial Slavery: Fines and the impossibly low fixed price of 4 annas per visit ensured the women could never accumulate savings, keeping them in perpetual debt bondage to the authorities.
The Aftermath: How Two American Women Exposed the Lie
The system was maintained by the blatant lie that the women belonged to a "prostitute caste." In reality, they were drawn from Hindus of all castes, Arabs, Afghans, and even Jews.
Cover of The Queen’s Daughters
in India BY ELIZABETH W. ANDREW and KATHARINE C. BUSHNELL
In 1891, two American investigators exposed that despite a House of Commons resolution to repeal compulsory examinations (the Contagious Disease Act), the practice was still being enforced secretly under the Cantonments Act of 1889.
Their evidence led to the Cantonments Act Amendment Act of 1895, a major win that officially banned the compulsory examination of women for STDs.
However, fueled by exaggerated disease statistics and the influence of British aristocratic women who argued the state had a duty to protect their sons, the Indian Government repealed the 1895 amendment in 1897, restoring the system of "brothel slavery."
The practice, driven by British class concerns and racial superiority, continued in various forms until the British left India. It stands as a chilling example of how the colonial state used sex as a central political mechanism to control both its troops and its subject population.
Communist Party of India: Betrayal, Bose, and the Quit India Movement
Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose as a Donkey Carrying Japanese Prime Minister ToJO
Look at this cartoon. This is how the Communist Party of India (CPI) saw Subhas Chandra Bose—drawn as a donkey carrying Japan’s Prime Minister Hideki Tojo
Subhas Bose as the donkey carrying Tojo: ‘People’s War,’ 19 July 1942.
In another sketch, the CPI warned that Bose was just a mask for Japanese imperialism.
These weren’t harmless sketches. They were propaganda weapons, printed in the CPI’s official paper, People’s War, attacking the very person raising a liberation army during India’s greatest crisis. This is the article is the story of how the Communist Party of India and the British imperial regime collaborated to crush the Quit India Movement.
People’s War: CPI’s war time propaganda publication.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose depicted as Mask Behind Japanese Imperialism
The Genesis: From Scattered Cells to Moscow’s Instrument
The Communist Party of India didn't start as a mass movement. It was born in Tashkent, Soviet Union, in 1920, established by M.N. Roy, who was mentored and funded by Moscow.
The party’s policies weren't decided in Bombay or Calcutta, but were dictated by the Comintern, the command center of world communism. This loyalty meant the CPI's strategy was dictated entirely by Soviet foreign policy interests:
When Moscow said “Class Against Class,” Indian communists branded Gandhi and Congress as “class enemies” When Moscow shifted to the “Popular Front” they suddenly put on khadi Gandhi caps and joined Congress rallies. Every twist, every turn followed the Soviet line. This foreign-dictated strategy meant the CPI lacked true roots and independence, a flaw that would become fatal during World War II.
The Pivot: The 'Imperialist War' Becomes the 'People's War'
When World War II began, Viceroy Linlithgow unilaterally declared India a belligerent. The Congress, led by Gandhi and Nehru, resolved to fight fascism only as a free nation.
The Communist Party of India initially mocked the nationalist movement. They branded the war an "imperialist war" (one empire vs. another) and organized factory strikes and sabotage efforts.
Then, in December 1941, the policy flipped overnight. When Hitler invaded the Soviet Union, Moscow sent instructions—relayed through the British Communist Party—ordering the CPI to support Britain.
The "imperialist war" instantly became the "people’s war." The CPI pledged unconditional support to Britain's war effort, just as Indian nationalists were preparing for their decisive movement.
A Times of India article dated July 23, 1942, mentions the lifting of the ban on the Communist Party of India and their agreement to support the British war effort
Collaboration: The CPI’s Role in Crushing Quit India 1942
The British responded to the rising nationalist fervor by arresting nearly every major Congress leader before dawn on August 9, 1942. With the Quit India Movement underway, the Communist Party of India cemented its collaboration with the colonial government.
Propaganda Against Patriots: The CPI's paper, People’s War, relentlessly attacked the nationalist movement. Subhas Bose, who had escaped house arrest to raise a liberation army, was viciously branded a "henchman of fascism" and "the paid agent of the enemy."
Espionage and Disruption: CPI members who had infiltrated Congress actively spied on the nationalist movement, reporting their activities directly to British intelligence.
Boasting to the Empire: In 1943, CPI General Secretary P.C. Joshi sent a document to the British government boasting of the party’s “splendid work” in breaking strikes and disrupting Quit India protests across the country.
While nationalist blood flowed in the streets under British repression, the communists were rewarded with state protection, access to funds, and freedom to publish. The party that claimed to fight for India’s workers was now actively fighting against India’s freedom in exchange for imperial patronage.
Newyork Times article on brutal suppression of Quit India Movement by British Imperial Government
Legacy: The Price of Disloyalty
The CPI's collaboration earned them deep unpopularity among ordinary Indians, who viewed them as traitors and collaborators.
To survive politically, the Communist Party of India sought new alliances, famously giving intellectual cover and support to the Muslim League's demand for Pakistan. The League, once denounced as "feudal," was suddenly praised as "secular"—another policy flip rooted in political expediency, not principle.
The ultimate cost of the CPI's strategy was its loyalty: it fought for Soviet foreign policy, even if that meant betraying the Quit India Movement and the cause of India's independence in 1942. The British found the perfect antidote for nationalism — communism
Sometimes, the most dangerous enemies aren’t the ones who oppose you openly…
They’re the ones inside your camp, holding your flag.
Sources:
Netaji And The CPI by Sita Ram Goel
The Only Fatherland: Communists, Quit India, and the Soviet Union by Arun Shourie
Svayambodha and Shatrubodha: Hindu View of Self and the World Book by Pankaj Saksenā
Robert de Nobili: The Jesuit Who Became a Roman Brahmin
Robert de Nobili, a 17th-century Jesuit, executed one of the most astonishing religious disguises in Indian history by masquerading as a Roman Brahmin sannyasi. He committed a profound deception, claiming to have discovered a lost "Fifth Veda," which he asserted showed the entire Indian spiritual tradition to be a corrupted subset of Christianity. The discredited document was later archived under the nondescript name 'Exhibit No 452' in a Nouvelles Acquisitions Francaises (French collection). Rejected by his own order as a fraud yet honored today with numerous institutions bearing his name, de Nobili's story is a profound example of cultural appropriation and radical missionary strategy.
The Problem in Madurai (Tamil Nadu, 1605)
De Nobili arrived in South India as part of the Jesuit mission, which, despite decades of effort, had achieved almost no success in the region. To many Indians, the European missionaries were called as "Parangi" (a derogatory term for Portuguese). Meat-eating, heavy-drinking, and unclean.
The cultural clash was immediate: Europeans were often viewed as unclean and barbaric compared to Indian standards of ritual purity and hygiene. For instance, many Europeans of the era rarely bathed, adhering to a medical theory that warm water opened the pores of the skin, allowing "venomous air" (miasma) to enter the body. This stark lack of cleanliness was a major source of revulsion and contempt among India’s elite merchant classes. Locals refused to adopt a foreign faith preached by people they viewed as inferior in moral discipline and intellectual tradition.
De Nobili concluded that the only viable path was to "Hinduize" Christianity. Observing that missionaries were only converting lower castes, which had little impact on wider society, he developed a radical theory: If Brahmins accepted Christianity, the others would follow. His fellow Jesuits, however, strongly opposed this approach, warning him that imitating Hindu customs was a form of deceit. De Nobili ignored them
Becoming a 'Brahmin Sannyasi'
Determined to break the cultural barrier, de Nobili completely reinvented his identity.
Appearance: He abandoned his Jesuit cassock for saffron robes. He shaved his head, retaining only a kudumi (a Brahmin-style tuft of hair), and wore the sacred thread like a high-caste Hindu.
Lifestyle: He became a strict vegetarian, eating only once a day. He took up residence in the Brahmin quarters of Madurai and deliberately avoided contact with lower castes to maintain his assumed status.
Intellectual Pursuit: He intensively studied Sanskrit, Tamil, and Telugu, becoming the first European to deeply engage with classical Hindu texts such as Veda’s, Upanishads, Vedānta, Smṛti texts and Tamil Bhakti literature.
AI rendering of Robert DeNobili
The 'Fifth Veda' Hoax (Ezourvedam)
To cement his local credibility, de Nobili manufactured a new religious text. He authored the Ezourvedam (also known as the Satyaveda), a Sanskrit work that secretly contained Christian theology. This text was framed as part of the ancient Vedic tradition, allowing de Nobili to argue that Christianity was not a foreign imposition, but an ancient Indian spiritual path compatible with Hindu philosophy. This literary hoax was a direct attempt at religious appropriation designed to integrate Christianity into the historical fabric of India.
Centuries later, even Orientalists expressed awe at the audacity of the deception. Max Müller, in particular, admired De Nobili’s strategy, stating:
“..the very idea that he came, as he said, to preach a new or a fifth Veda, which had been lost, shows how well he knew the strong and weak points of the theological system he came to conquer”
The Aftermath and Disgrace
Despite his elaborate disguise, de Nobili gained followers slowly, and his first recorded convert was, ironically, a low-caste schoolmaster, not the Brahmins he had targeted. When his true identity was questioned due to his European appearance, he boldly lied, claiming to be a high-born king from Rome who had renounced his life to become a sannyasi (ascetic). Future missionaries who adopted his controversial model would resort to darkening their skin with ointments.
De Nobili’s strategy proved unsustainable.
Failure and Imprisonment: Many Indians saw through the deception and abandoned him. He was eventually imprisoned by local authorities, only to be freed through the intervention of the King of Madurai.
Exile and Final Act: When handed over to the Church, his fellow Jesuits condemned him as a fraud who had "corrupted Christian truth" and "polluted the Gospel." He was exiled to Mylapore (Chennai), far from his mission. Until his death in 1656, a partially blind and aging de Nobili refused to abandon the Brahmin ascetic lifestyle, even refusing non-vegetarian meals provided by the Church. He followed the ultimate ascetic practice by fasting until his death.
A Contradictory Legacy of Robert DeNobili
In his lifetime, Robert de Nobili was largely regarded as a failure and a disgrace by both the Indian society he sought to convert and the Church he served. This legacy of cultural accommodation and appropriation is still evident today, as various Vedic terms and practices are Christianized (e.g., "Christian Yoga," "Christian Bharatanatyam"), suggesting a continued, complex influence of his methods.
Yet, today, his legacy is strangely honored. Schools, colleges, and a research center across India bear his name, and a statue stands in his honor. While his methods were controversial and compromised Christian theology by integrating caste distinctions, his radical attempt at cultural accommodation left a lasting, if complex, imprint on the history of Indian Christianity.
The Cagots: Europe's Forgotten "Untouchables"
Cagots - The Untouchables of Europe
Imagine being an outcast in the Medieval Europe, branded as impure for a reason no one can explain. You look, talk, and believe the same as everyone else, yet you are barred from society, forced to do menial labor, and treated as a curse. This isn't India, and you aren't a Dalit; you are a Cagot in medieval France.
The story of the Cagots is one of Europe's most baffling historical mysteries. For centuries, these people were brutally discriminated against, subjected to inhuman atrocities, and labeled "untouchables," all without any logical or biological justification. Unlike other marginalized groups in Europe—Jews, Romani, or Muslims—the Cagots couldn't be distinguished by their faith, appearance, or a different language. They were devout Christians, spoke fluent French, and were visually indistinguishable from their "pure-blooded" neighbors. So why the deep-seated hatred? The answer remains largely a mystery, with multiple theories that still fail to explain the extreme prejudice.
segregated door used by Cagots at Church of Notre-Dame-de-l'Assomption in Bidarray
A Life of Segregation and Humiliation
The discrimination against the Cagots was pervasive and absolute, affecting every aspect of their lives.
Forced Separation: They were made to live in isolated ghettos on the outskirts of towns, known as "Cagoterie," and were forbidden from owning land. In fact, many lived on the "malarial side of the river," a physical marker of their exclusion.
Public Humiliation: To be identified, they were forced to wear a special emblem—a goose's foot—on their chest. This same symbol was also carved on a separate entrance door to the church, the only way they were permitted to enter.
Religious Exclusion: Despite their unwavering faith, Cagots were segregated within the church itself. They had to sit in separate, designated pews at the back and could only receive communion from a special, long wooden spoon to prevent the priest from coming into contact with them. Even in death, they were buried in separate cemeteries.
Limited Rights: The law restricted nearly every aspect of their existence. They could only buy goods from the market on specific days and were barred from public buildings like hospitals, as a surviving fragment from 1291 attests. Violating these rules carried severe punishments, like the Cagot in Quimperlé, Brittany, who had his hand cut off for using a public fountain.
A People of Craft and Resilience
Despite facing constant oppression, the Cagots found a way to survive and even thrive in their restricted roles. They were mostly confined to skilled trades involving wood, such as masonry and carpentry. This work, considered "dirty deeds" by the "pure-blooded" French, became their livelihood and a major part of their identity.
The Cagots became highly skilled artisans, and their craftsmanship can still be seen in the structures of many Pyrenean churches. They honed their skills to perfection because any mistake could lead to grave punishment. Their resilience is a testament to the human spirit's ability to endure and adapt even under the most brutal conditions.
The Fading Legacy of the Cagots
The French Revolution brought a pivotal moment for the Cagots. In a desperate act of liberation, they seized the opportunity to burn all official records and legal documents that branded them as "Cagot." This act was a success, leading them to effectively disappear as a distinct group and integrate into French society.
Criminal Tribes of India: Yerukulas
Imagine being born into a community known for trade through mobility, helping remote villages access essential goods like salt and grain. And then, one day, your entire identity is rewritten by the Colonial state: you're no longer a trader, you're now a criminal.
This is the forgotten story of the Yerukulas in the Madras Presidency. Once vital to India's supply chains, they were systematically pushed to the margins by colonial policies and branded under one of the most oppressive laws in British India: the Criminal Tribes Act (CTA)
From Proud Traders to Economic Ruin
Before the British, the Yerukulas were a large community of traders and cattle breeders, vital to the inland economy. The y were know Yerukulas in Telugu regions, Koravars in Tamil regions, and Korachas in Kanada speaking region, as different branches of the community, were the primary means of distributing salt and grain to far-flung areas. Korava women were also skilled in weaving, foraging, fortune tellers and performing as acrobats and singers. Their mobility and trade routes were not only essential for the economy, but they also helped avert famines. Even the British revenue administration in the early 19th century officially recognized their work as "useful and legitimate."
A historical portrait of Korava Woman Telling Fortune.
Their fate changed due to a series of deliberate British policies.
The Salt Monopoly of 1805: The East India Company took complete control over salt production, banning private Indian manufacturers. Salt became a luxury, priced at up to 40 times its production cost. This systematically pushed the Koravas out of the salt economy.
The Railway Act of 1856: The British centralized the distribution of goods through railways, making the Koravas' traditional trade routes obsolete and cutting them off from their primary livelihood.
The Great Madras Famine of 1876: This disaster, combined with new Forest Laws that restricted their grazing lands, decimated their cattle herds, which were the backbone of their trade. Their entire economic system collapsed, leaving them destitute.
With their traditional livelihoods destroyed, the colonial administration's perception of the Koravas changed from "useful traders" to "destitute wanderers" and "threats." They were worried about not being able to extract revenue from these communities. The British needed a new system of control, and they found it in the Criminal Tribes Act.
The Criminal Tribes Act and The Salvation Army's Role
The British first enacted the CTA in 1871, driven by a racist eugenics and classist bias that viewed crime as hereditary. To justify their actions, they used the Yerukulas' own folklore against them, claiming a story about a God Subrahmanya gifting them a house-breaking tool was proof of their innate criminality.
By the 1900s, British authorities were desperate to make these mobile communities conform. In 1911, they amended the CTA to target entire communities, not individuals. Once a tribe was "notified," every man, woman, and child was registered, fingerprinted, and watched.
One organization, the Christian missionary group known as the Salvation Army, played a pivotal role in this. The Salvation Army, active in India since 1882, adopted a militaristic approach, with marches, uniforms, and a newspaper called The War Cry. They saw their work as an "imperial campaign." In 1913, with official British backing, they were entrusted with managing settlements for these "criminal populations." In fact, Salvation Army played a big role in influencing CTA
Mr & Mrs Booth-Tucker
Frederick Booth-Tucker, known as "Fakir Singh" in India, was a high-ranking officer of the Salvation Army who modeled his reform strategies on the United States’ assimilation policies toward Native American tribes. Donning saffron robes and presenting himself as a Hindu ascetic, Booth-Tucker employed cultural mimicry to make Christianity appear more familiar to Indian communities.
As Commissioner, he championed the creation of missionary-run settlements that forcibly separated families, placing children in boarding schools and systematically erasing the traditions of India’s so-called “criminal tribes” under the guise of moral rehabilitation. For his service to the British Empire, Booth-Tucker was awarded the prestigious Kaiser-i-Hind Gold Medal (First Class) by Viceroy Lord Hardinge.
Life in the Stuartpuram Settlements: A Concentration Camp
In 1913, the Yerukulas were officially notified and given a stark choice: prison or relocation to a Salvation Army settlement. Many chose the latter, hoping to keep their families together. The most prominent of these settlements was Stuartpuram, promoted as an agricultural colony but, in reality, a concentration camp with back-breaking work and barely enough food to sustain . The settlement was named after Sir Harold Stuart in recognition of his crucial support in acquiring land for the settlement.
Life was brutal. Attendance was taken five times a day, and the Salvation Army served as police, landlord, and employer. Settlers were paid less than local workers and given uncultivable land, which led to the failure of their agricultural "reform."
Location of Stuartpuram & Seethanagaram in present day Andhra Pradesh. Stuartpuram village in the Bapatla district of Andhra Pradesh even to this days carries the trauma of colonial exploitation, It was named after Colonial Administrator Sir Harold Stuart. He was instrumental in bringing Salvation Army and allocating the land for “Criminal Tribes” Settlement.
With farming a failure, the Salvation Army strategically pivoted. Under Section 11 of the CTA, they employed the settlers as captive wage labor in nearby British-owned factories, such as the Indian Leaf Tobacco Development (ILTD) Company. The settlers were not "workers" but "offenders under reform," which meant they were not protected by labor laws. Women were the first to be absorbed, enduring grueling 12-to-16-hour days.
Yerakulas were used as strikebreakers
“Free labor was unreliable... but forced labor from our settlers could not escape, absconding was an offense”
Separation of Yerakula Children from Parents
The most devastating aspect of the settlements was the systematic erasure of the Yerukulas' identity. The Salvation Army believed it had to "morally rescue" children from their "criminal parents". Children were separated from their families and placed in boarding schools, where their days were tightly regimented with Christian instruction. This separation severed ties between generations, and oral histories, songs, centuries old folklore and skills were lost forever.
Public destruction of Murtis by Neo-Converts carried out under the supervision of the Salvation Army
The agony of separation was so intense that some parents took a long-term contract to work on remote tea plantations, a collaboration with the United Planters Association of South India (UPASI). This was a desperate attempt to be reunited with their children, but conditions were horrific, and the infant death rate was staggering. When workers tried to leave, the CTA was used to arrest and return them.
“The settlers objected most strongly of all to The Salvation Army religious services. They complained to Government that we were trying to make them change their religion ! Like most of these tribes they were demonolaters, and their rehgion restricted itself to efforts to appease offended spirits by sacrifices and devil worship of the crudest character.”
The Lingering Stain of History
The CTA was finally repealed in 1949, but India's independent government, burdened by colonial inertia, replaced it with the Habitual Offenders Act. The system was rebranded, not removed. The Salvation Army remained in Stuartpuram, and the narrative of criminality and salvation they had instilled continued.
Today, many descendants still remember the tales taught by the missionaries: "We were criminals. They saved us." But the historical record says something else. In fact, as late as 1946, one member of the Provincial Enquiry Committee remarked that conditions in one of the settlements resembled those of a Nazi concentration camp.
They were never criminals. They were made into one by design.
This is a cautionary tale about how the powerful can rewrite history, criminalize dignity, and erase entire ways of life for profit.
Sources:
Dishonoured by History: "criminal Tribes" and British Colonial Policy by Meena Radhakrishna
Muktifauj : Forty years with the Salvation Army in India and Ceylon
Salvation Army Archives (War Cry)
Maratha–Portuguese War (1683–1684)
Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj fought a two-front war against the brutal Goa Inquisition and the mighty Mughal Empire. A tale of defiance and strategy.
How Chhatrapati Sambhaji’s audacious war against the Portuguese Inquisition and the Mughal Empire forged a new chapter in Indian resistance.
Before the British, another European power ruled India’s coasts—not just through trade, but through terror. The Portuguese, entrenched in Goa, unleashed a brutal campaign of forced conversions and cultural destruction. They destroyed temples, banned Hindu festivals, and enforced their will through the horrifying Goa Inquisition.
For decades, this reign of terror went largely unchallenged. But then came Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj.Unlike any ruler before him, he didn’t just resist—he took the fight directly to the Portuguese. At the same time, he found himself locked in a desperate struggle against the world’s most powerful ruler, the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb.
Forced to battle a European colonial empire and a vast Islamic dynasty simultaneously, Sambhaji Raje made a choice that would define his reign. Was it a bold act of defiance or a reckless military gamble?
The Portuguese "Reign of Terror" in Goa
In the 15th century, a series of papal decrees gave Portugal the "divine right" to conquer, enslave, and convert non-Christian lands. When Vasco da Gama landed in Calicut in 1498, his mission was clear: shatter Islamic dominance over the spice trade and expand Christendom. By 1510, Afonso de Albuquerque had captured Goa, establishing the first European colonial foothold on the Indian subcontinent.
Initially, the Portuguese promised religious freedom to the local Hindu population. But this tolerance was short-lived.
By the 1540s, a policy of "Rigor of Mercy" began. Guided by Jesuit missionaries, the Portuguese:
Demolished Hindu temples, using their materials to build churches.
Outlawed Hindu festivals and banned the construction of new temples.
Expelled Brahmins and declared Christianity the only legal religion.
It was about to get much worse. St. Francis Xavier, a founder of the Jesuits, lobbied the King of Portugal to establish a formal Inquisition in Goa to purify the land of "heretics." In 1560, the Goa Inquisition was established. It became one of the most brutal religious tribunals in the world, targeting not just Jews and Muslims, but also the Hindu majority
“The second necessity for the Christians is that Your Majesty establish the Holy Inquisition… because there are many who live according to the Jewish law and according to the Mahomedan sect, without any fear of God or shame of the world.”
Chhatrapati Sambaji Maharaj
A New King, A Gathering Storm
Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, Sambhaji's Raje’s father, had recognized the Portuguese threat and built the Maratha Navy specifically to challenge them. His sudden death in 1680, however, left a power vacuum. The Portuguese Viceroy celebrated, remarking that Shivaji was "far more dangerous in peace than in war.”
When Chhatrapati Sambhaji ascended the throne, he faced internal court politics and knew his father's tense relationship with the Portuguese. He initially sought peace. But the Portuguese, seeing an opportunity, preemptively occupied the island of Anjadiv in 1682 to fortify it against the Marathas.
The fragile peace was about to be shattered by events unfolding hundreds of miles to the north.
The Mughal Wildcard: A Prince on the Run
The Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, a staunch Islamic orthodox, had alienated his Rajput vassals by re-imposing the jizya tax on non-Muslims. This sparked a massive Rajput rebellion. Aurangzeb sent his own son, Prince Akbar, to crush them.
But in a stunning twist, Prince Akbar rebelled against his father's harsh policies and declared himself Emperor with Rajput support. Aurangzeb, a master of deception, forged letters to make the Rajputs believe Akbar was betraying them. The alliance crumbled.
Disgraced and hunted, Prince Akbar fled south and sought asylum with the one man he knew Aurangzeb feared: Chhatrapati Sambhaji.
By sheltering Aurangzeb's rebellious son, Sambhaji had painted a giant target on his back. The Mughal emperor now had the perfect excuse to turn his entire military might toward crushing the Marathas. He immediately opened diplomatic channels with the Portuguese, forging an alliance against their common enemy.
The Portuguese secretly agreed to help, allowing Mughal warships to use their ports and supplying them with grain and intelligence. The trap was set.
In late 1682, a massive Mughal army laid siege to the Maratha fort of Kalyan. But Sambhaji, using brilliant guerrilla tactics, crushed the Mughal supply lines and forced them into a humiliating retreat. The Portuguese betrayal was now exposed.
Sambhaji had a choice: tolerate this treachery, or declare war on a global colonial power while the Mughal Emperor was marching toward him.
He chose war.
The Maratha Blitzkrieg
In July 1683, Chhatrapati Sambhaji launched a multi-front war that stunned his enemies.
The Siege of Cheul: Maratha forces launched a surprise attack on the Portuguese fort of Cheul under the cover of monsoon rains. Simultaneously, Sambhaji unleashed his navy against the Siddis of Janjira, the semi-independent naval arm of the Mughals.
Northern Devastation: The Maratha Peshwa, Nilkanth Moreshwar, swept through the northern Portuguese provinces, capturing key territories like Salsette Island and Chembur. They burned villages and destroyed crops, bringing the Maratha army to the doorstep of Bombay. The terrified English, watching the destruction, secretly entered negotiations to sell Bombay to Sambhaji.
The Battle for Ponda: To relieve the pressure on Cheul, the Portuguese Viceroy, Tavora Conde De Alvor, opened a second front in the south, laying siege to the Maratha fort of Ponda. The fort's commander, the elderly Yesaji Kank—a childhood friend of Shivaji—was badly injured, and the fort was on the verge of falling.
In a move of incredible personal bravery, Sambhaji Raje personally marched his army directly to Ponda. His forces punched through the Portuguese lines to reinforce the besieged garrison. Rejuvenated by their king's presence, the Marathas launched a ferocious counter-attack, forcing the Portuguese into a chaotic retreat. The Viceroy himself narrowly escaped death twice.
Humiliation at Santo Estevão
The war reached its climax in November 1683. In a daring covert operation, 40 Maratha soldiers infiltrated the island of Santo Estevão, a key defense for Goa. They killed the Portuguese commanders and seized their artillery. A single cannon blast was the signal.
Sambhaji's army, waiting across the river, began its assault.
The Viceroy rushed in with 400 men, marching toward a hilltop church, but it was a trap. Maratha cavalry ambushed him, striking him from his horse. As Portuguese soldiers fled in panic, many drowned in the river, their bodies floating past the horrified onlookers in Goa.
The mighty Portuguese army had been disgraced in full view of the public.
With his forces shattered and Goa's defenses breached, the Viceroy ran to the Church of Bom Jesus. In a final act of desperation, he placed his scepter in the hands of the corpse of St. Francis Xavier, surrendering the fate of Portuguese India to a dead saint.
A Twist of Fate
Just as Chhatrapati Sambhaji prepared for the final assault on the city of Goa, news arrived that Aurangzeb’s son, Shah Alam, had entered the Konkan with a colossal Mughal army of 100,000 men.
Caught between two powerful enemies, Sambhaji could not risk encirclement. He made the strategic decision to withdraw his forces from Goa.
Though he did not capture the city, his campaign was a resounding success. He had shattered Portuguese military pride, inflicted devastating economic losses, and delivered a powerful message: the Marathas would not tolerate any betrayal or interference. The Portuguese dream of expanding their empire along the Konkan coast was permanently broken.
Sambhaji’s war was not a reckless gamble; it was a calculated masterstroke of defiance that asserted Maratha sovereignty against two of the world's most formidable powers.