Lokmanya Tilak. A Biography

Kulkarni was overwhelmed with emotion and could not recollect things in their sequence. He therefore wrote: “I shall now state things as I would remember them.” “As I was a convict, I had to wear the jail uniform. The Parsee jail superintendent said that I had less work as a cook than is given to a convict, and imposed more work on me. Maharaj then pleaded my case ably. He said, ‘Your first mistake is that you have brought him here even though he was not given transportation. And is it not further injustice not to grant him the facilities according to the prison rules here?’ Owing to this I was immediately made a warder, and as a consequent benefit I got a remission of one year and a half in my term of imprisonment.” “Maharaj was extremely fond of reading. When I was there, he had with him a number of big books brought from Poona. He was absorbed in them day and night. But in all these books there was not even a scrap of paper relating to politics. He was not given even a page of a Marathi or English magazine, let alone any of the newspapers. An order was issued that he could keep only four books with him at a time. At this, he made a petition to the Burma Government that he was writing a book and should therefore be allowed to keep all books with him. The former order was then cancelled and he got all his books back. But the number of pages in every book were counted, that number was entered on the cover page, the superintendent put his signature and then the books were given to Maharaj.” “Maharaj was extremely uneasy owing to the excessive heat at Mandalay. There were blisters on his body owing to the heat. He therefore made a petition to the Bombay Government that he should be sent to the Andamans and allowed to move freely after giving the necessary bail. This request was turned down. When he was informed of this, he was a little upset at first and then calmly observed, All right. It appears to be God’s wish that I should die in prison’.” “Before Maharaj started his dietic restrictions for diabetes, rice of very good quality was given to him and I got the foodgrains given to ordinary convicts. Maharaj, however, strictly ordered me to eat the rice which he used to eat. I felt that he did not eat enough himself so that I should get his food! I felt very awkward and embarrassed and had almost a sense of guilt. I remember him saying ‘I get milk and fruits. You should not eat that dirty rice. It would not suit you and you would fall ill.’ Since then, he used to feed the

sparrows with the foodgrains given to me. As he continued this practice for a number of days, the sparrows grew very bold, entered the room, perched on the books and on the table, and gathered round the plate when Maharaj took his food. They even chirped and sat on his body like flies.... Once when these sparrows had gathered in the room of Maharaj, the superintendent came and was surprised to see the sight. Maharaj told him, We do not eat them. We don’t frighten them. On the other hand we sometimes feed them. We do not even bear a grudge against poisonous creatures and they are also not afraid of us.’ The Sahib was very much surprised at these words.” “Maharaj spent his time more in reading than in writing; but more than that his time was spent in thinking when he sat in the chair chewing the betelnut and opening and closing his eyes. I once asked him, “What is it that you are always thinking about?’ He laughed and said, ‘Man’s head contains the entire universe and its movements are going on inside the brain.’ He once remarked, ‘I am a student in a school. This room is my school. Books are my teachers. Jailor is the peon and you are my playmate. Here I study German, French, Pali and some other languages. After my release, I intend going to Germany. Will you accompany me as a cook there?’ Once Maharaj wanted to write something in Marathi. He therefore wanted to dictate it to me. But he at once said, ‘No I don’t want you to do hard labour for me. You have enough work. I shall manage mine.’ “Maharaj was allowed to have an interview with persons outside once in three months; but he did not use the facility for meeting anybody except his relations. I remember that once Shrimant Khaparde of Amraoti and Shri Vijapurkar of Rangoon came to meet him. His nephew Babasahib Vidwans came frequently. The interview took place in the presence of the jail superintendent. Maharaj was very happy on the day when he had an interview with Babasahib. He was also allowed to write one letter every month to the members of his family at Poona and he could also receive one private letter. If, however, the letter contained anything besides domestic affairs, it was immediately cut. Maharaj was also forbidden to write anything except personal information. Once he wrote a long letter; but the superintendent suspected one word of the letter and asked him to write a fresh letter. Maharaj then was rather angry and said, ‘Servility hurts in hundred ways’.” “I always called him ‘Maharaj.’ He did not like it at all.”

“Occasionally government officers came to meet Maharaj. One morning ‘xxx’ came accompanied by the Collector, superintendent, jailor, etc. I was standing in the yard in my convict’s uniform. All, except the jailor, mistook me for Tilak, took off their caps and said, ‘Good morning.’ I bowed with my hands, told them in Hindi that I did not know English and made a sign with my finger that Tilak Maharaj was there. Just then Maharaj came down in his usual manner and everybody laughed aloud at the mistake. All then went upstairs and talked for a long time. When ‘xxx’ found that Maharaj had a good knowledge of German he said, ‘I have taught my daughter German. Will you please test her?’ Maharaj agreed to do this. The jailor was rather jealous for this intimacy of ‘xxx’ with Maharaj and he felt that Tilak would please him by praising ids daughter’s knowledge. As ‘xxx’ came next day with his daughter, Maharaj examined her and when he found her knowledge inadequate bluntly told him accordingly. It appeared that the jailor and the superintendent were struck by this incident.” “Maharaj’s health was undoubtedly very sound. I was with him for about three years; but in spite of advancing years, he fell ill only once or twice during this period. Once he had an attack of something like cholera. He had two or three motions and also vomited. He grew very weak; but he did not allow me to touch his body. The jailor brought a doctor and gave him medicine. At this time the authorities certainly took great care of him. I fell ill many times; but Maharaj looked after me as my father would and took care of me. Though the authorities wanted to send me to the jail-dispensary, he kept me with himself and nursed me! He even cooked for me and not until he had fed me he took food himself. In spite of what the jailor said, he did not allow me to eat the jail-food. As a matter of fact he was my master. But he looked after me for three years as after a son. As I was a convict suffering rigorous imprisonment, I was denied all facilities. But Maharaj gave me tea, shared his own food with me, talked to me as if I was his equal, saw to it that his barber shaved me, nursed me with greater care than that of a relation and made legal efforts for my release. When I remember these hundreds of things, I am choked with emotion, my head reels and I know not what I should say.” “When there was an epidemic of cholera in Mandalay jail, Maharaj and I were taken to Mictilla jail. From Mandalay prison to the station, there were armed guards on both sides; but when the car reached the station, the huge crowd that had assembled there shouted Tilak Maharajki Jai.’ He was secretly taken in a special carriage to Mictilla where again the hundreds of people that had gathered

shouted Tilak Maharajki Jai.’ When Maharaj reached the jail, the jailor asked him, Which country did you rule?’ Maharaj answered, ‘I am not the master of this body of mine. How then can I have a kingdom?’ ‘ “It happened that ten or twelve days after I went to Mandalay, while cooking, memories of my wife and children came to me and I was very much perturbed. While I was in that mood, the pot with boiling water was upset, and got mixed with the flour. I was very much frightened and I started crying. I did not know what I would now give Maharaj to eat. I was afraid that I would be punished when Maharaj would report this to the jailor. Presently Maharaj came to the kitchen, saw everything that had happened. He did not show in the least that there was anything wrong. He quiedy poured the flour which was now in the form of a syrup over a piece of cloth and when the water was absorbed by it I made bread out of the flour. Maharaj ate joyfully. He was not at all angry on this occasion; in fact I do not remember him to have been angry on any other occasion as well.” “I got a remission of two years and it appeared that I would have to be removed from Mandalay. I then said to Maharaj, ‘Plead my case as you did before and secure for me the permission to stay with you for two more years.’ Maharaj then dissuaded me from such thoughts, explained to me the law and persuaded me to go back to family. He gave his blessings and bade me farewell. How can I describe my feelings when I started leaving him behind? When I asked him as to what I should tell the members of his family, he said, ‘Tell them that everything here is all right.’ When I asked him as to how they would believe me, he gave me one of his teeth, which had recently fallen and said, ‘Show this to Dhondu and then nobody would have any doubt about you...’ From Mandalay, I was brought to Poona and I was then put in the M.S.M. train with a ticket for my village, with the warning, ‘Beware! if you go to the Gaikwad Wada.’ I went to my place; but once again came to Poona,... and met the members of Maharaj’s family. I told everything to them, particularly to Maharaj’s wife.... After Maharaj’s release, I went to see him and when he pressed me to stay with him, I did so readily... I was fortunate to have an opportunity of serving him — an opportunity which one would not get even after practising penance. Owing to this service, I am immensely benefited materially and spiritually. Conviction was a blot on my character but such was my good luck that I washed it clean in the holy Ganges of a saint’s company. My life has fulfilled its purpose.” Politics, says one writer, is a game of keeping up appearances. There was a

transparent lucidity about Tilak’s political character and not even his severest critic charged him of keeping up appearances. It has been stated how little could be known about his feelings from his political activities. Personal emotion was conspicuous by its absence in his speeches and writings. He hardly had any private life and even during calamities such as the death of his son, he showed a rare philosophic calm of mind. Moreover in those days, in most of the families in Maharashtra, elderly persons were very reticent in expressing their feelings. The peculiar standard of austerity which prevailed in orthodox families was the main cause of this reticence. It is therefore difficult even to get a few glimpses of the emotional aspect of Tilak’s personality. There are certain interesting anecdotes written by Tilak’s sons and daughters which reveal an unexpected facet of his personality. His private conversation was always enlivened with a pleasant humour. Mrs. Mathubai Sane, Tilak’s youngest daughter, has written the following anecdote: “Dada always looked into his correspondence while taking his morning tea and always spoke humorously to all around him. Even when he was passing through great difficulties and ordeals, he rarely appeared worried or kritated at home. In 1908, before and after the Surat Congress, there was much abusive controversy between the moderate and radical newspapers. Then one day, while taking tea he said to us, ‘You all eat something along with tea. Do you know what I take?’ He never had anything except tea in the morning and therefore we said, ‘Nothing that we know of.’ At this he said, ‘I eat fresh abuses with tea.’ “ Tilak was indifferent to the taste of food. As he was suffering from diabetes, he had to live on a diet, but he never found it difficult to observe all the restrictions. When his daughter asked him how such tasteless food was palatable to him, he said with good humour, “You live to eat, while I only eat to live.” When he was absorbed in work, he forgot to drink the tea kept near him and it often grew cold. Mrs. Parvatibai Ketkar, his daughter, recalled one incident when Tilak was absorbed in writing. She told him that it was time for dinner; but Tilak was quite unconcerned and did not appear to have heard it. After some time he remarked, “God has made a mistake. If our stomach had a hole in it, we could have filled it with nutritive juice. It would not have been then necessary to waste time for meals.” Tilak always loved to tell something new and instructive to young persons, and his grandson Shri G. V. Ketkar has given an account of this habit in Tilak’s memoirs. “Dada was very fond of instructing students, boys and girls. My mother gave me some information about a scientific subject and when I asked her how she got the information, she told me that Dada used to tell children a

number of things.... In the course of the narration, he was so completely lost in the subject that he was never conscious of anything else around him.... My aunt therefore instructed us not to start any topic while Dada was taking his meals, because once he started the discourse, he did not eat well. That instruction, however, was not of much avail, for if we did not start the discussion, Dada of his own accord started speaking on some subject. . . and hardly paid any attention to what he ate.”

Letters from Prison Though these and other such anecdotes give us some glimpses of Tilak’s mind, the letters which he wrote from Mandalay take us much nearer to his heart. Long terms of imprisonment-particularly when there are no companions - have different effects on different people. Some persons are almost devoured by the long-drawn punishment. The agonies of solitary confinement become unbearable to them. They want to run away from themselves and severance of their contact with the world almost leads to severing them from normality. A few, whose minds are resourceful, try to score a victory over the yawning solitude by finding certain objects of interest. Thus the insects, the bees, the mice, the sparrows and such other birds or animals become friends in prison. The prisoners take parental care of their nests, watch them during their breeding season, feed them with the affection of a mother and feel an evergrowing gratitude for their companionship. Jawaharlal Nehru’s autobiography gives a lovely picture of animals in prison. Books are of course a tremendous solace during prison life and the companionship of the master minds of the past as well as of present, is never more pleasant than when one is confined to a cell. Those whose minds are enriched with knowledge and whose lives are a treasure of experiences, find in the prison life an opportunity for giving expression to all that they feel worth communicating. It is no wonder that many great works have been written in prison and an essayist has therefore remarked that ‘mankind owes a debt of gratitude to the perverted genius who established the terrible institution of prison.’ An author who spent over six years in prison, compared himself to a silkworm that weaves a cocoon of words round himself. The books which are written have not, however, always a personal accent and a person in prison, above all, yearns for an expression of his feelings. Prisoners therefore who write only business letters outside, develop an unexpected personal note in their letters. The cruelty of the institution of prison lies in the situation that the prisoner cannot write in an intimate way when he most longs to do it. Letters are censored and therefore the prisoners have to develop the art of concealing feelings and emotions. In spite of all the restrictions, those imposed by one’s own self, words become pregnant with meaning, suggestion conveys the desired import, and the feelings deliberately suppressed form a melody that can be heard by sympathetic minds. Tilak was compelled to write letters in English. There was thus not much possibility of emotions creeping into these letters for two reasons,

viz. Tilak’s inherent reticence and the unsuitability of the foreign language as a vehicle of one’s emotions. And yet the letters form a melody expressive of the intense sentiments of a philosophic mind. Tilak wrote these letters to his nephew (sister’s son) Dhondopant Vidwans. He was allowed to write one letter per month. N. C. Kelkar in his biography of Tilak has translated about sixty of these letters, which are not unfortunately available in the original. Tilak’s letters were written in a very restrained manner and not once does one find in them a mood of self-pity. He had quietly accepted the terrible punishment and his sentiments were expressed once and for all in those memorable words which he uttered in the High Court: “There are higher Powers that rule the destiny of things and it may be the will of Providence that the cause which I represent may prosper more by my suffering than by my remaining free.” He was of course aware of the fact that his wife and children could not be expected to bear the calamity with the same equanimity. He therefore always wrote in a very optimistic and reassuring manner. In the first letter he wrote: “Tell wife and children that I am not worried about myself. But I am very much anxious about them. My health is really all- right. I am not just writing this in order to comfort them. Even though my appeal is rejected by the Privy Council, tell them that I would not have to spend all six years here. I shall meet them sometime in the near future. Only hope can sustain a person in the midst of calamities. Therefore please take care to keep up that hope.” The way in which Tilak wrote about his wife has an underlying note of pathos about it. The following are some of the references: “The health of wife causes anxiety. Write to me about her. Give her the treatment of Vaidya pade for diabetes.” “Give her our usual medicine ‘Saptarangi Kadha.’ Tincture does not appear to suit her. Consult Dr. Garde about it.” “My friends naturally feel that I would be released when the present political tension would relax. I also think it desirable that this hope of my wife and children be sustained for long. But to tell you the truth I am convinced that I shall have to undergo my full term of imprisonment.” “Explain the contents of my letter to wife and children. Ask them to have courage and to be cheerful. At present times are unfavourable to us. To accept this without complaint and to hope for better days is the only proper way.”

“I was pained to hear that wife’s health deteriorated in May and June. Diabetes is a terrible disease. But she must pass days with courage. There is no other way. The present circumstances are indeed trying; but they have to be accepted cheerfully.” “Translate literally to wife all that I have written, write to me a detailed account of her health.... Diabetes is a disease which cannot be eradicated. But ask her to take medicine regularly.” “There is possibility that wife would not be keeping well in summer. Ask her to go along with children to Sinhgad. She would not like to have the pleasure of cool climate. But her health is spoilt owing to the hot season, and therefore tell her that she should go to Sinhgad, for my sake. You should accompany her, or ask Gangadhar or some other trustworthy person to do it. I want her to go to Sinhgad, even though she goes there reluctantly just to obey me. The climate of Sinhgad is most suited to patients of diabetes.” “You told me here (during the interview) that wife’s health was going down. Write to me about her.” “It is a matter of satisfaction that her health has not deteriorated. The presence of the daughters would give her some comfort. Tell her that bad days are passing off and would soon be over.” “Tell her that we are struggling against fate. We would either win or lose in this struggle. If we are determined not to lose we would win.” “I was much relieved to read that wife could work at home.” “Ask wife to take milk and ghee along with barley, as I do here.” Below is the letter written after the most cruel blow of fate, which Tilak suffered during his imprisonment: Central Jail, Mandalay 8th June 1912 My dear Dhondu, Your wire was a very great and a heavy blow. I am used to take my misfortunes calmly; but I confess that the present shook me considerably. According to the beliefs ingrained in us it is not undesirable that the wife should die before her husband. What grieved me most is my enforced absence from her side at this

critical time. But this was to be, I always feared it, and it has at last happened. But I am not going to trouble you further with my sad thoughts. One chapter of my life is closed and I am afraid it won’t be long before another will be. Let her last rites be duly performed and her remains sent to Allahabad or Benaras or any other place she might have desired. Carry out literally all her last wishes, if you have not done so already. The task of looking after the physical and intellectual development of my sons falls on you now with greater responsibility; and I shall be still further grieved if I were to find it not properly attended to. I believe Mathu and Durgi are still there. They as well as Rambhau must have keenly felt the bereavement especially at a time when I am away. Console them in my name and see that Rambhau and Bapu do not get dejected. Let them remember that I was left an orphan when I was much younger than either of them. Misfortunes should brace us up for greater self-dependence. Both Rambhau and Bapu should therefore take a lesson from this bereavement and if they do that I am sure God will not forsake them. See that their time is not lost in useless grief. The inevitable must be faced boldly. As regards her things and valuables make a list thereof, and keep them with you under lock and key till my release or till you next hear to the contrary from me, in the meanwhile. Above all face the situation-courageously yourself, for there is no one else on whom the children can depend in this critical state. ‘May God help you all’ is all that I can wish and pray for from this distant place. With love to children and yourself. I am, Yours affectionately, Bal Gangadhar Tilak. Satyabhamabai, A Devoted Hindu Wife G. V. Ketkar, Tilak’s grandson, has given a brief account of the life of Satyabhamabai before her death: “My grandmother had little hope of Dada’s return after six years, and she often said that she would soon leave this world. She lived for four years after Dada was sent to Mandalay. During this period she never stepped out of the house. She wore a black sari and black bangles and except the holy string3 she wore no other ornament. She was always fasting and ate coarse food.... Her daughters read out Kesari to her but she was hardly

attentive. My mother read the holy book Bhaktivijaya, to which she listened attentively. She generally avoided taking medicine, though she was suffering from diabetes.” Satyabhamabai died in very painful circumstances. She had withstood many trials in life. She lost three or four of her children. Tilak had been in prison twice before and the third conviction must have come as a crushing blow. Like all Hindu women she did not care much for material comforts and though she must have been proud of Tilak’s greatness, she always kept herself in the background. She could not partake of Tilak’s glory, and had only to bear the agonies for his sufferings. Parting from Tilak during the last days must have broken her heart. She must have prayed for death to deliver her from her sorrow as she gave but little thought to her own self. Anxiety about Tilak’s health must have been a constant worry to her and as her grandson wrote, she did not hope for his return. How she must have prayed that death the deliverer would take her away before Tilak, for that is the prayer of all devoted Hindu wives! She could read and write but the idea of expressing her feelings in a letter could not even touch her orthodox mind. Hers was the course of silent suffering. Tilak was not even given an opportunity to say a few parting words to his wife and children. But even if a few minutes had been given to him, he and Satyabhamabai would only have exchanged glances, and through mute farewell, much that words can never express would have been communicated to each other. All moments of happiness and of grief would have been re-lived in those moments, and the consciousness of the grim present and still more grim future would have brought a lump to the throat. The deep anguish would compel them to tear away the gazes and Tilak with his usual calm would have said a few words to the children. But this also was not to be. Providence had torn them asunder and they were not allowed to meet on this earth. Tilak never spoke of his grief, but one gets some idea of the depth of his feeling from the following anecdote given by his nephew, Dhondopant Vidwans: “After Dada came back from Mandalay, a painter made a life-size oil painting of my aunt and brought it to us. I had a look at it and exclaimed What a fine painting!’ Dada immediately said, ‘But it is not perfect.’ At this I remarked, I think it perfectly resembles Mami.’ Dada smiled a little and in a moving tone said, ‘Do you know her better than I do?’ During Mami’s lifetime, Dada hardly spoke to her in our presence, and never in this strain. And when therefore I heard these touching words when Mami was no more, my eyes also were filled with tears.”

Tilak could pay little attention to the affairs of his family, but he was very particular about the all-round development of his children. His daughters were married but his two sons were quite young, when he was at Mandalay. He was naturally rather anxious about the proper training to be imparted to them and he always instructed Dhondopant about it. The following passages from his letter reveal the particular care he took of his children: “See to it that the education of Rambhau and Bapu is not neglected. I see no reason why owing to my misfortune their education should suffer. Take care of them.” “Where are the girls at present? How is the health of Rambhau and Bapu? How are their studies? Write to me whether they take exercise or not. Send them to the class of Tatyasahib Natu and teach them riding.... Ask them to be cheerful and to study well.... Ask Shri Kavade to teach English to Mathu and Rambhau at home.... How have Rambhau and Bapu progressed during the last six months? Tell them that they must be among the first ten boys of their class....” “I was glad to read that Shri Kavade is not sparing himself and is taking pains for the studies of children. It does not matter if a little more time is spent, but what is learnt should be learnt well. Teach Mathu English upto the Matriculation standard.” “...I looked into the progress books of Rambhau and Bapu. They are not very satisfactory. Give them the necessary instruments for gymnastics. Appoint an instructor for the purpose if necessary...” “...Rambhau is an average student. How is it then that he did not pass the examination? Probably he does not concentrate on his studies.... I am sending along with this letter instructions to Rambhau and Bapu about the method of studying. Ask them to translate those instructions in Marathi, get the translation corrected by Kavadeshastri. They should then read them out to their mother so that she would know what exactly I expect of them.” “...Make good arrangements for the college education of Bapu and Rambhau. Fergusson College is quite near to the city. Let them go and come back from the college on foot.” In the letters there were always solicitous inquiries of Jagannath, the adopted son of Baba Maharaj, and also of the son of Bapat of the Baroda interlude. Tilak always wrote a detailed account of his health, and one gets an idea how he was

trying to keep himself fit in his advancing age. In almost every letter, there is a list of books, which he wanted to be sent on to him. They included books on different religions, on sociology, philosophy, metaphysics and science. He also learnt French and German with the help of suitable books. He read Webber’s book on astronomy in German. In a letter of the 2nd September 1910, he wrote: “I read Webber’s work. It is written in German. I could read five pages per hour. I can describe what a delight it was to read it. I felt that at least a part of imprisonment was well spent.” Tilak also wrote about the progress of his writing of Gita-Rahasya, his magnum opus, in which he sought an answer to all the complex problems of life not from the standpoint of a schokr or a recluse but from that of one who had dedicated his whole life to the service of his fellow- countrymen. In addition to the humble biographer Kulkarni, whose touching account of Tilak’s days in prison already been given before, there is also another account. This time the biographer is an illustrious son of India, whose name was going to be written in letters of gold in the annals of India’s fight for freedom. Subhash Chandra Bose was sent, towards the end of January 1925, to Mandalay as a guest of His Majesty’s Government. “Mandalay jail,” he says, “was a real place of pilgrimage, hallowed by the memories of one of India’s greatest men. That pilgrimage is one of the happiest episodes in my life.” Subhashbabu did not have the advantage of coming into personal contact with Tilak and yet, being a fellow- pilgrim to the shrine of freedom, he supplies by his imagination what he lacks in actual experience. His account, mostly confined to a description of the Mandalay jail with its climatic changes and bleak stone-walls, gives an idea of the tempestuous soul that turned the stone-walls into a rich heritage. This is what Subhashbabu writes:4 “Soon after my arrival there, some of the detenues who had preceded me, pointed out the building in which Lokmanya Tilak had been confined for over five years. The compound within which this structure was situated was adjoining ours. The old structure of Lokmanya’s time had been extended but no material alteration had taken place. It was a wooden building not built of bricks or stones made of palisading, and looked like a cage. At night after lockup, when the lights in the room were on, the human creatures inside looked more like denizens of the forest than like civilised men.” “The climate of Mandalay, according to our experience, was unhealthy and

unfavourable to a degree - the more so, as we ourselves were the inmates of a wooden cage in Mandalay jail. We could, therefore, visualise the condition under which Lokmanya had to live several years ago. The atmosphere was so depressing that one would feel overcome with a feeling of lassitude and sustained intellectual work in that atmosphere was wellnigh impossible. While at Mandalay I used to be reminded constantly of the land of ‘Lotus-Eaters’ of which Tennyson wrote.” “I often used to think and wonder how in those circumstances Lokmanya could go in for prolonged intellectual work for over five years. Only one who had attained complete self-mastery, who was altogether indifferent to pleasure and pain and heat and cold, could rise above such dismal surroundings. Lokmanya was all alone in that horrid cage, the only society that he could get was the none- too-desirable company of the jail officials whenever they dropped in. Even the ordinary prisoners of the jail were not allowed to associate with him. Consequently he would have to be immersed in his books or in his thoughts all the time. What degree of intellectual strain that would mean for the ordinary man, can be easily understood. So great was the physical and intellectual strain, that few men could stand it, much less survive it. I still wonder how in those circumstances Lokmanya Tilak could produce such a magnificent work like Gita-Rahasya.” “Interesting stories are still told about Lokmanya in Mandalay jail. His was a simple and, if I may say, monotonous life given to study and contemplation. His imprisonment was ‘Simple,’ so the jail officials did not impose any work on him. But he worked day and night, with his books and with his pen. A little walk in the morning and evening inside the compound of his ward served as a diversion. He was fond of gardening and there are trees which exist even today which are reported to have been planted by him. Lokmanya used to receive letters from his people and friends at regular intervals and whenever there was any delay, he used to feel very anxious. As far as I remember, he had to receive news of several bereavements when he was there but he stood them with the courage and resignation that were characteristic of him.” “Lokmanya did not have to serve the full term of six years but was released a few months earlier. Elaborate arrangements were made for his transfer to India prior to his release. He was conveyed from Mandalay to Rangoon in a special train and from there he was taken to Madras. At the dead of night he was roused from his sleep and promptly and without notice taken to the train that was

awaiting him. Lokmanya was kept entirely in the dark as to his destination and not till he reached Madras was he able to guess what his destination would be.” 1 Poetic compilation by Ramdas, the poet saint, said to be the guru of Shivaji. 2 A collection of the devotional verse of Tukaram, the poet-saint of Maharashtra. 3 Managalsutra.: A string with small black beads worn by all married Hindu women in Maharashtra. 4

TOWARDS COMPROMISE AND CONSOLIDATION 13 ‘I was ever a fighter so one fight more the — best and the last!” Tilak after his release in an interview with a correspondent of Kesari, gave a complete account of what happened after he was convicted. He said, “After the conviction was declared I was not allowed to see anyone and taken to a police van which was kept ready beforehand. I was taken to a wayside station of the B. B. & C. I. Railway and along with the guard I got into the special train. I was not told where I was being taken, nor did I ask anything. Next morning, the train stopped at the Sabarmati station in front of the Sabarmati jail... where I was then taken.” “There I was treated like other prisoners suffering rigorous imprisonment. In ten days I lost about ten pounds. The authorities suspected that I was not taking food and therefore a strict watch was kept over me . When they found the suspicion baseless, a change was made in my diet according to the doctor’s advice.... There was a slight change in my weight and the same food was continued. Though I was given rigorous imprisonment, I was not asked to do any work as my weight was reduced.” “I knew that as I was given transportation, I would not be kept at Sabarmati for a long time. On 13th September 1908, the jailor came to my room at about 8 o’clock at night and took me to the office. A train was waiting outside. I was not told anything about the destination also this time. I was given a cook who was a Gujarati Brahmin. A police party accompanied us, but they did not know where I was to be taken. While taking me out of the jail I was given my former clodies, dhoti, coat, pagdi, etc. I was not informed of the change, viz. that I was given simple imprisonment.” “Though so much of secrecy was maintained, I could hear at Miagaon station after Baroda, people shouting, Tilak Maharajki Jai.’ I could not see any people, because the doors of my carriage were closed. At about 6.30 in the morning, the train stopped near Bombay Harbour. We were taken through a steam launch to a

boat ‘Hardinge,’ belonging to the government military transport.... I was kept in a small cell where the sailors convicted for offences were kept. I was taken to the deck by a European inspector one hour every day. It was very sultry in the cell.” “The ‘Hardinge’ did not halt at any place and reached Rangoon on the ninth day of our journey. People at Rangoon knew of my arrival and therefore when I was getting down at the harbour, over a thousand people had gathered there. A train was kept ready and I along with the cook and the police were taken in it on our further journey. We reached Mandalay at 8 a.m. on the next day. I was handed over to the Superintendent of Mandalay Prison. He was intimated before of my coming and he had made all the arrangements. He took me to my cell. I was kept in a room of 20 × 12, which was separated by a compound from the rest of the barrack. I was kept there with the other prisoner who was accompanying me as a cook. The yard around our room was about 130 feet long and 50 feet wide. Nobody was allowed to enter our yard. It was locked all day and night. We were locked up in the cell at night. Our cell had wooden bars and looked like a cage. In the room I was given a cot, a table, a chair, an easy-chair and two cupboards for keeping books. The Gujarati prisoner finished his term of imprisonment and was sent back. A Kulkarni from Satara, who was given five years’ rigorous imprisonment, was given to me as a cook. But he got remission and was released earlier. A third Brahmin was with me for two years, and at last a North-Indian prisoner worked as a cook till I was released.” “I was given ghee, milk, wheat flour, rice and pulses. After some days some fruits were given every week. When diabetes became rather acute, there was a considerable change. I wore my own clothes and had my own bed. I was also allowed to take tea, coffee and supari (betel-nut) with my own money.” “It would not have been possible to pass time if I had not been allowed to have books, because we were cut off from the world outside. There were three different orders about books. First I was given all books after examining their contents. I was not granted permission to have any book on current politics. I was also not given any newspapers either in English or in any other of our languages. After some days, a fresh order was issued. Only four books at a time were kept with me. Then I made a petition to the Burma Government and I was then given the facility to keep all the books with me. I had about 400 books with me at the time of my release, I was given a pencil to write and I could use pen and ink only when I wrote a letter every month.”

“Long before I was convicted, I had a feeling that in all the critical works on Bhagavadgita, the message of the Gita was not correctly interpreted. I read and worked on the subject in prison, and I wrote a book on Gita in Marathi, in which I have given a comparative study of western and eastern philosophy. I wrote this book in about four or six months. But it took me long to plan it carefully and to retouch it after writing it. At present the book is with the government. It was not given to me at the time of my release.1 “The climate at Mandalay was hot and I could not write well except during winter. Besides this I studied with the help of books German, French and Pali. I have also made some jottings on mathematics, Vedanta and astronomy.” “I got one letter every month from Poona and I wrote a reply to it. The letters were strictly censored. I only got private letters. I was given the facility of an interview once in three months, and except on two occasions when Khaparde and Vijapurkar of Rangoon met me as legal advisers, I only met my relations.” “My health was on the whole all-right. I had an occasional fever, but it was not serious. Diabetes, however, reached an advanced stage. I have lost five or six of my teeth owing to old age. I have turned grey and I have slightly lost my former vitality and energy. Though I have lost a few Ibs. in my weight, I am fairly fit both in mind and in body.” “I knew that I would be released after my term of imprisonment expired and I therefore sent back all the books in May 1914. On 8th June, the Superintendent of Mandalay jail came to me in the morning and asked me to pack up my things. Under police escort I was taken to the station. A special carriage was reserved in the mail, the doors of which were closed at every station. We got down at a small station before Rangoon and then went to Rangoon port. I was then taken on board the government steamer ‘Mayo.’ I was not told whether the steamer was going to Calcutta, Madras or Bombay, and I never inquired. I saw the faces of the Poona police on the steamer. They were specially brought to Rangoon. There were no other passengers. We should have reached Madras on Friday or Saturday, but the boat went at a deliberately slow speed and we reached Madras on Monday evening. I did not suffer from sea-sickness. The prisoner who accompanied me was released at Madras. In a police van I was taken to the Madras station. A special second class carriage, the doors being closed as usual, was attached to the mail. The train halted at Hadapsar and the Dy. S P. of Poona

asked me to get down. The station-master asked me for a ticket and I only pointed to the officer in charge. I did not know whether I was to be taken to Yeravda prison or would be released immediatelv. I however trusted the famous saying of Saint Tukaram: (Wait and see what happens.) When the car took the direction opposite to Yeravda I had no doubts in my mind. The pilot car left us on the way. In the car behind there were Mr. Gyder, Inspector Sadawarte and myself. Our car reached Gaikwad Wada on Tuesday 16th, after midnight. Mr. Gyder told me that the government had given me remission of one month and I was released unconditionally. I asked him to convey my thanks to the government. The watchman at Gaikwad Wada did not know whether he should admit me accompanied by the police. He called Dhondopant and I stepped into my house!” The Hero’s Home - Coming One can imagine the excitement at Tilak’s place at this unexpected arrival of his after midnight. Dhondopant was overwhelmed with emotion. The atmosphere changed almost in a flash. In Tilak’s absence, the routine in the Gaikwad Wada continued. The Kesari and the Mahratta were very ably conducted by Khadilkar and Kelkar, and yet the gap created by Tilak’s absence could never be filled. One of the disciples of Tilak compared Gaikwad Wada during 1908 to 1914 to a temple without the idol. Within a few minutes of Tilak’s arrival, lamps were lit, carpets were spread out and persons were sent out to convey the happy tidings to Tilak’s friends. Within half an hour the news flashed in almost all parts of Poona, and friends and acquaintances flocked to Gaikwad Wada. Everyone was there to welcome Tilak except his life companion who had preceded him to a bourne from which no traveller returns. The moment was too moving for words. People came, bowed down to Tilak and sat on the floor. Tilak saw the old familiar faces, changed and yet the same. Rambhau and Bapu, who were just school-going boys six years back, had become college students and showed signs of early manhood. Dhondopant who had looked after the family, felt almost relieved. Colleagues in public life were rather abashed at the fact that the flame of radical politics had almost been extinguished after Tilak’s removal from the political scene and the most trusted among them had sublimated their political urge by writing dramas. Aurobindo, in response to his spiritual urges, had retired to Pondicherry. The moderates had submissively accepted the Morley-Minto scheme of reforms. India was politically dull but a desire was felt all round that the stalemate had to

be ended. Much water had flowed down the Ganges since 1908 and yet most of the changes were due to the march of time rather than to the efforts of people. People could see that suffering was writ large on Tilak’s body and yet his mind was perfectly composed, his disposition as lively as usual. One of Tilak’s devotees described his sentiments in the following words: “Six years appeared to me like a nightmare. Dada came and I felt that time that had come to a stop, flowed on once again.” Tilak talked to people upto 4 a.m. and then retired for rest. Next day was a day of rejoicing in Poona - nay, it was a day of rejoicing all over India. Telegrams and letters came almost in showers. People of Poona came in thousands to Gaikwad Wada to see their beloved leader. India is a land of hero- worshippers. People may not understand the subtle political issues but they instinctively feel the heroism and greatness of certain individuals and worship them as their leaders. When Tilak was at Mandalay, there were hundreds of people, coming from the humblest walks of life, who did not eat sweets; some slept on carpets, some fasted on Friday, the day on which Tilak was convicted. These are innocent ways of Indians, the depth of whose feeling is seldom understood by westerners. The peculiar feature of Indian politics is that leaders who have sacrificed everything for the nation were not looked upon just as leaders of public opinion but as the elderly members of a huge joint family. They had a place in the heart of the people who did not intellectually grasp all that they said. Many western journalists have expressed surprise at the devotion and affection of the Indian people for their leaders. They can comprehend this phenomenon only when they understand that, in India, people are attached to their leaders not for interested motives but with human bonds, and that the sufferings of the leaders, strengthened the bonds and made the attachment closer than before. For some days after the release Tilak had to keep some hours reserved in order to give darshan to the people. The question that everyone now asked was, “What would he do next?” He was now old 58, very old according to the standards of his generation, weary, worn with suffering and privation. Would he not rest on his oars? An intimate friend, Waman Moreshwar Potdar, working president of the Sarvajanik Sabha, asked this question on his first visit to Tilak. Potdar records: “The Lokmanya was resting on the swing. I urged him to consider his old age and take rest. He made me sit beside him. He looked at me partly in surprise and partly in anger and said, ‘You see, somebody must do the work that I have been doing. What I do acts as a check on the licences of the government. If I keep quiet, the English will not care for us at all.’ Such was the indomitable spirit that he had. Six years of

incarceration had given him a compulsory rest. Though physically he had been stationary, he had been intellectually even more active in jail. In his Gita- Rahasya, he had sought philosophical justification of his lifelong activity. With Browning’s Rabbi Ben Ezra, he would have well said now: “Grow old with me. The best is yet to be!” On the 21st June 1914, a mammoth meeting was held in Poona to honour the hero’s homecoming. Tilak’s speech was characteristic of a philosopher. He did not speak of his suffering. He did not hurl challenges either at the government or his political rivals. The humanist note of his speech shows that he did not care for material conquests, but was touched by the affection which people showed him. He did not make a political declaration but expressed his deep devotion to the people’s cause. He said: “There is a peculiar difference between happiness and sorrow. Grief is minimised when it is shared with others. Happiness is increased when others are there to share it. Those who have assembled today and those who came to meet me during the last three or four days have multiplied my joy thousandfold.” Continuing, he said, that when he came back after six years and when he started looking around, he remembered the story of Rip Van Winkle. “Many people asked me as to what I would do next. I am now thinking of my further step. It is necessary to see that the path which one wants to tread is clear. There is a Vedic tradition according to which a person walking through the street sprinkles a little water before stepping forward. I may have to purify my way in a similar manner. It cannot be said today whether the path is sacred and, therefore, I am deliberately keeping silent.” Those who listened to this thinking must have felt the depth of Tilak’s mind. He did not paint rosy pictures. He did not give luring hopes. And yet he declared his firm resolve to act. Tilak did not give any idea of his action because he was a realist who related his plans to the environment and who would not speak out unless he had formed his judgment about the different forces and trends in the political life of the country. All these had soon to be seen in a new perspective altogether, for the Great War began in August 1914. Tilak’s Declaration of Loyalty The outbreak of the war, Tilak greeted as a bell of time, warning India that

great opportunities were in store for her; she was only to avail of them. One of the modifications that he spoke of was now in evidence. He declared his loyalty to the British regime. He wrote a letter to the Mahratta on the 30th August 1914, “in order to remove any possible misunderstanding as to my attitude towards government at this juncture.” He refers to the speech in which he compared his position to that of Rip Van Winkle returning to his home after a long sleep in the wilderness. “Since then,” he continues, “I have had opportunities to fill up the gaps in my information as to what has occurred during my absence and to take stock of the march of events in India during the past six years.” In spite of measures like the Press Act, he was of the opinion that the country had made definite, yet steady progress towards the cherished goal. There was also “a marked increase of confidence between the rulers and the ruled and a sustained endeavour to remove popular grievances.” He expressed the hope that in the end the good wrought by the constitutional reforms would abide and prevail, and that which was objectionable would disappear. He next referred to the attempt made in the English press here and in England, as for example in Chirol’s book,2 to interpret his actions and writings as a direct and indirect incitement to deeds of violence or his speeches as delivered with the object of subverting British rule in India and said that such insinuations were absurd. Though he had his difficulties with the government regarding the system of internal administration his attitude was not hostile to the government. “I may state once for all that we are trying in India, as the Irish Home Rulers have been doing in Ireland, for a reform of the system of administration and not for the overthrow of government; and I have no hesitation in saying that the acts of violence which have been committed in the different parts of India are not only repugnant to me, but have, in my opinion, only unfortunately retarded to a great extent the pace of our political progress. Whether looked at from an individual or from a public point of view, they deserve, as I have said before on several occasions, to be equally condemned.” He goes on to speak about the British rule as “conferring inestimable be ne fit on India not only by its civilised methods of administration but also thereby bringing together the different nationalities and races of India, so that a united nation may grow out of it in course of time.” At the end he declared, “At such a crisis it is, I firmly hold, the duty of every Indian, be he great or small, rich or poor, to support and assist His Majesty’s Government, to the best of his ability; and no time, in my opinion, should be lost in convening a public meeting of all parties, classes and sections in Poona, as

they have been elsewhere, to give an emphatic public expression to the same.” Had Tilak turned a loyalist and a moderate or was this mere hypocrisy? One has to remember that his political activity, though revolutionary in intent, had always taken a constitutional and legal form. It was the idea of civil revolt that he wanted to bring into practical reality. As a practical politician, he was aware that, unless he could take the masses with him, mere talk of revolution would be of no use. He saw now that the country was sinking into rest with a sullen ‘all is for the best,’ and all attempts at any kind of political activity were dubbed as premature or hasty. It was an uphill task that he had to carry out. He had to rally his scattered followers, infuse new life into them, and bring them together under the wing of a central institution. At such a stage the best strategy was not to alienate any section, either the government or the political opponents — the moderates. The Congress was therefore to be the common platform, where the moderates and the extremists could meet, in spite of their differences of approach and method for the common goal of self-government.

Tilak on Compromise A happy augury of the times was, to quote Aurobindo, “The sudden eruption of Mrs. Besant into the field — with her untiring energy, her flaming enthusiasm, her magnificent and magnetic personality, her spiritual force — for bringing an ideal into the stage of activity with one ra pid whirl a nd rush.” It was Mrs. Besant, who within a month of Tilak’s release, opened up negotiations for a rapprochement between the two parties. A second happy sign was the emergence of the Muslims as a political entity, siding with the Congress and agreeing to make common cause with other communities.3 Tilak was already thinking in terms of a broad-based united front. Damodar Vishwanath Gokhale, who had just joined the staff of the Kesari as a sub-editor records Tilak’s views about his new policy: “The old party differences,” Tilak declared, “must be done away with. We must reshuffle the cards and have a new deal. We must make only one pile of the Muslim party, Mrs. Besant’s followers and our nationalist party and fight the Government alone on the issue of Swaraj. If we do it, then alone we shall be successful.” This, therefore, was the keynote of all his actions. Following this by word and deed, Tilak succeeded in achieving his aim and became the undisputed leader of India by 1916. Moderate leaders like Pt. Malaviya and Gokhale too wanted a return of the extremists, but Pherozeshah Mehta was one of those who were opposed tooth and nail to such an entry. Gokhale believed for a tune that Tilak had modified his views and was willing to cooperate with the government. Sadashiv Gopal Gogte, a sub-editor of the Dnyan Prakash broached the topic of a compromise a few days after Tilak’s release. Tilak’s reply was characteristic: “I agree with you that the Congress is almost a spent force. If not this year, at least next year when the Congress would be held at Calcutta, we shall certainly enter it. Your idea of having village and town associations is a good one; but Mehtaji thinks that for the next twenty-five years the Congress should be carried on with the same policy. He is afraid that if we take any strong action, the government would come down upon us vehemently. Mehtaji and his party want to carry on the movement without opposing the government even in the slightest way. Take for instance the anti-drink movement. Is there any politics involved in this? And yet, merely because it may not be appreciated by the government, Mehtaji’s party is not

willing to support it. The politics of the Mehta party is founded on the line of least resistance.” Finding that this would lead to a mere sidetracking of the compromise issue, Gogte pointed out that “this was a matter of temperamental difference. So nothing would be gained by complaining against it. If the party in power in the Congress did not do its work with zeal, it was all the more reason why the nationalist party should enter the Congress. If you agree to do it, I shall call this meeting of ours successful.” The required promise was given by Tilak and the negotiations proceeded. To S. S. Setlur, he said, while the negotiations were going on: “My days are numbered. I may live for a year or two at the outside. Why should people say after me that I was the cause of a split in the nation and that but for me this and that could have been achieved? Let there be union and I shall watch and see what they will achieve.” On the 26th November 1914, he wrote to a friend of his, “You may have read in the Mahratta that certain proposals for holding a united Congress are in the air at present. Mrs. Besant and Mr. Subba Rao, the joint secretaries of the Congress, are coming here this Sunday to meet Mr. Gokhale and myself on the point, and altogether it seems that a serious attempt will be made this year to close the breach between the two Congress parties. The matter has been under discussion for the last six years and many of the preliminary points have been cleared up. What difference exists is as regards the constitution. The right of electing delegates is at present restricted to moderate committees and until it is thrown open to the public in general, the Congress is sure to remain a sectional body only. What we ask for is the amendment of this, and it is not unlikely nay, very probable, that this desired amendment may take place this year, especially as the President-elect the Hon. Bhupendranath Basu, is in our favour. I should, therefore, like to know what you and other non-conventionalist friends there think of the matter. I have written to friends at other places also, and I hope to receive their replies shortly. This would reduce my responsibility to a minimum.” Apart from clarifying the constitutional issue involved, the letter shows the way in which Tilak maintained close contact with his followers. He consulted them on every important issue and kept them informed of every important move of his. The old practice of electing delegates was that it could be done at any public meeting; but this practice was set aside and now nobody could be elected unless he came through the moderate associations. According to Tilak, “It was unreasonable to expect that one party should seek admission to the Congress through the associations entirely controlled and managed by the other.” It was

this rule that Tilak wanted to get changed.

The Compromise Parleys The negotiations opened when Mrs. Besant accompanied by Mr. Subba Rao, the General Secretary of the Madras Congress (1914), went to Poona in the first week of December 1914 and had talks with Tilak, Gokhale and others. What Tilak thought about the compromise question has already been stated by him in his conversation with S. S. Setlur and in the letter to one of his followers. Tilak went to see Mrs. Besant in the Servants of India Society buildings and also saw Gokhale. A description given by S. V. Bapat gives a clear idea of the way in which Tilak looked at the whole question. Gokhale was ill and therefore he could not climb the stairs of Tilak’s house. The meeting was therefore arranged downstairs. As Tilak came up after the meeting, Khadilkar asked him: “What does Gokhale say?” Tilak replied, “He says that I should not enter the Congress, as I will not agree with the present Congress constitution and with those in the Congress at present.” On being asked what his reply, was to this, Tilak replied: “I told him clearly that the Congress belongs to all. It is not given as a gift to any party. I shall first prepare the country, enter the Congress and capture it.” The others were surprised and thought that Tilak was a little too tactless in thus divulging what was yet a distant prospect. To this Tilak replied, “My opinions are formed after full deliberation and I declare them to my opponents at the earliest opportunity.” This supreme self-confidence Tilak had acquired as a result of his long and selfless service for the cause of the people and the democratic methods that he followed in his dealings within his own party. The reactions of Gokhale were however different. He had agreed to the negotiations under the impression that Tilak had given up, what Gokhale believed to be, his obstructionist tactics a nd wa s now for whole -hearted cooperat i on with the government. When Tilak spoke in his old way of capturing the Congress, Gokhale regretted that he had taken the initiative in the negotiations and he therefore wrote a confidential letter to the President-elect of the Congress, Bhupendranath Basu. This crucial letter settled the fate of the compromise and the year 1914 and the best part of 1915 went by without the two parties coming together. This is what Gokhale wrote: “My hope was that if we enabled the seceders by such relaxations to come in, they would, having seen the impossibility of political action on any other lines, be cooperative with us in furthering the programme of the Congress by present

methods. That hope, however, has been shattered. Mr. Tilak has told Mr. Subba Rao frankly and in unequivocal terms that though he accepts the position laid down in what is known as the Congress creed, viz. that the aim of the Congress is the attainment by India of self-government within the Empire by constitutional means, he does not believe in the present methods of the Congress, which rest on association with government where possible, and opposition to it where necessary. In place of these he wants to substitute the method of opposition to government, pure and simple, within constitutional limits — in other words a policy of Irish obstruction. We, on our side, are agitating for a larger and larger share in the government of the countryin the legislative councils, on municipal and local boards, in public Services and so forth. Mr. Tilak wants to address only one demand to the government here and to the British public in England, viz. for the concession of self-government to India, and till that is conceded, he would urge his countrymen to have nothing to do either with the public services or legislative councils and local and municipal bodies. And by organising obstruction to the government in every possible direction within the limits of laws of the land, he hopes to be able to bring the administration to a standstill and compel the authorities to capitulate. This briefly is his programme, and he says that he wants to work for its realisation through the Congress if he and his followers are enabled to rejoin it, or failing this, by starting a new organisation to be called a National League.” What Gokhale found out was that Tilak was still consistent to the stand he had taken in 1908 after the Surat split when he had refused to join the moderate convention of Pherozeshah Mehta. Whether one followed the obstructionist or the co-operationist methods, Tilak was firmly of the opinion that this must be done through the Congress alone and he was willing to modify some of his views for a compromise. During the negotiations, it is important to remember, he had to encounter the opposition of his followers as well. When Mrs. Besant was in Poona, he called a meeting of the Nationalist party at which all the important members of the party, Dr. Munje, Shivram Mahadev Paranjpe, Karandikar, Khadilkar, Khaparde, were present. Dr. Munje4 writes about the first meeting between Mrs. Besant and Subba Rao on the one hand and Tilak and his followers on the other. This description given by a prominent follower of Tilak is significant for many reasons. It shows the prejudice entertained by a majority of the Nationalist party members for Mrs. Besant in particular and for others of the Moderate party. It also shows how Tilak had the foresight of bringing together as

many different people as possible within the Congress. When Tilak started discussing the terms of compromise with Mrs. Besant, Munje told him not to interfere as he was not with them for six years and so did not know what transpired in between. Tilak, therefore, kept quiet and addressing Mrs. Besant, Munje asked her bluntly if she had consulted Pherozeshah about the compromise. When she said that she had not, Munje told her that in that case her talk was a waste of time; for if Mehta did not agree compromise would be impossible. Tilak thought Munje’s behaviour with Besant unmannerly and rude but to Munje the butting in of a foreigner was the most objectionable thing in the whole proceedings. To another follower Tilak said,5 “I too wish that the nationalists should work with greater zest by entering the Congress as elected representatives and that compromise be effected so that the Congress is once again a united and strong body of the two parties as before. I know full well that in politics it is no fault to compromise at times without leaving one’s principles. I shall not stretch till the breaking point. The moment I think the breaking point is reached, I shall loosen my hold and effect a compromise. In politics I am all for compromise.” S. S. Setlur, who saw Gokhale soon after this meeting, reports that Gokhale told him about the terms he had proposed for the compromise, which were in the nature of a safeguard, but remarked, “I know even with these precautions in a few years, Tilak will surely capture the Congress.” Setlur continues, “Stopping tor a while in a contemplative mood, he said, ‘If he does, we should loyally accept because, then, it means that the majority of the country is on his side.” These remarks of Gokhale appear to be irreconcilable with the uncompromising stand that he took in his letter to Bhupendranath Basu. That shows that though at first Gokhale was on the side of a compromise, later on he corrected himself and wired to Mrs. Besant not to move the proposed amendment to the Congress constitution which would enable the Nationalist party to enter the Congress. Mr. Subba Rao had issued a statement after the talk with Tilak, incorporating in it certain corrections by Tilak. This statement formulated all the issues clearly: “The attitude of the nationalists is generally one of constitutional opposition to the government; while that of the moderates is that of cooperation with the government. Though the ideal of both is the same, the difference between them lies in the methods adopted by them for reaching the goal.” This ideal was stated to be self-government within the Empire. It was

further stated that the nationalists were keen on entering the Congress; but they objected to the condition of the constitution which made it compulsory on their part to join one of the moderate conventions. They demanded independent and separate electorates so that they could seek election to the Congress through their own elected bodies or through meetings called by them alone. They also desired to agitate among the people for their method of work and attitude towards the government and to try, as far as possible, to make a majority in the Congress itself. They knew, the statement affirmed, that they were bound by the decision of the majority in the Congress and therefore they were prepared to wait till the majority were in their favour, but it was not their wish to leave the Congress. The statement hinted at a possibility of the nationalists creating a National League based on their policy, which would carry on its work, independently of the Congress, should the Congress not agreeto the proposed change in the constitution.” Gokhale did not agree to the major points in the statement and withdrew his support. In the Madras Congress, Mrs. Besant tried to move the constitutional amendment in the Subjects Committee but it was defeated. She therefore wired to Tilak: “Moved amendment. Debate adjourned. It is said by opposition you favour boycott of government. I say you do not. Wire which is truth. (Reply prepaid.)” Tilak’s reply was: “I have never advocated boycott of government. Prominent nationalists have served and are serving in municipalities and legislative councils, and I have fully accepted their action both privately and publicly.” The Bombay Session of the Congress was a moderate Congress and the President Sir S. P. Sinha made a very mild speech. The Congress, however, passed an important resolution on self-government. By Resolution XIX, the Congress authorised the All-India Congress Committee to frame a scheme of reform and a programme of continuous work, educative and propagandist, having regard to the principles embodied in this resolution and further authorised the Committee to confer with the All-India Muslim League for the same purpose. The constitution of the Congress was again suitably altered “to throw the doors

of entry practically open to the ingress of nationalist delegates who were allowed to be elected by public meetings convened under the auspices of any association which is of not less than two years’ standing on 31st December 1915, and which has for one of its objects the attainment of self-government within the British Empire by constitutional means.” Tilak on the Break-up of the Parleys On the 22nd December 1914, Tilak wrote in the Kesari clarifying the whole position. In this article he first made it clear that the nationalists were in full agreement with the creed of the Congress, which is defined by Dadabhai as ‘Swaraj,’ i.e., self-government within the Empire. The main objection of the nationalists, it was stated, was the condition which made it compulsory for them to enter the Congress through one of the moderate conventions. Tilak reiterated his faith in national unity: “As Mrs. Besant says, we must adopt for the present, and in future too, the principle of ‘Union is Strength’ and carry on the work of the Congress with zest and sincerity. Nationally speaking, this would be in the fitness of things. This is not merely applicable to the Hindus, but we hope that at this critical juncture the Mahomedans too will join us and attempts will be made to bring them in.” Tilak strongly repudiated the charge that the nationalists intended to wreck the Congress constitution and pointed out that the constitution was being observed in its breach under the present elections of the provincial and district Congress Committees. He concludes: “People ask the question, ‘Will the nationalists go to the Congress this year to Madras?’ Our answer is the nationalists are not going because the moderates do not want it. If the constitution is amended at Madras, we shall see; but at present the difficulties are the self-imposed conditions of the moderates and their unrestrained action.” Another article on January 5th, 1915, entitled ‘Congress or Club-Festival of the Moderates?,’ sought to lay the whole blame for the failure to arrive at a compromise at the doors of the moderates. It was the moderates, particularly from Bombay, like Mehta and Waccha, who did not want a compromise. If the nationalists desired to join the Congress, they had to seek the support of Congressmen from other provinces. What the nationalist party should do in the meanwhile would be decided later.” A stronger article was written on the 9th February 1915 when more facts regarding the break-up of the compromise began to appear in the newspapers.

Tilak accuses Gokhale of wrecking the compromise by his confidential letter to Basu. He particularly objected to the words ‘Irish obstruction’ and ‘boycott’ alleged to have been used in the letter and demanded the publication of the letter in full. The confidential letter of Gokhale to Bhupendranath Basu was not published at the time. Only a few extracts were published in various papers. Longer extracts have subsequently been published in H. P. Mody’s Life of Pherozeshah Mehta. Referring to the argument put forward by some people that Gokhale agreed to the compromise because he thought that Tilak had changed his views as a result of his imprisonment, Tilak wrote, “But these big fools (referring to persons who put forth this argument) have not understood that prison can never be a reason for a person to change his views, formed scientifically after full thought.” He clarified his stand by saying that boycott did not mean non-co-operation. “Just as a son petulantly insists on getting something from his father, similarly it is one thing occasionally to go off into a huff with the government and quite another to boycott it on each and every occasion. Tilak has advocated the first method but never the second. In fact it can be said that the second method is madness.” He next reproduced a translation of the statement issued by Subba Rao on 9th December and also the text of the telegram from Mrs. Besant and his reply to it. In conclusion he wrote that it was futile to carry on this controversy any further and urged that the moderates should use open and fair means, and not resort to underhand dealings or secret writings in order to misrepresent to the government what the nationalists say openly. He continued, “In case of Tilak or Gokhale one can say that their days are numbered.”6 It is no use saying that when Tilak enters the Congress he will capture it. The Congress is national; it does not belong to Tilak or even to Gokhale. It is not any one person who will decide the policy of the Congress but the Congress will decide it as a whole. Therefore every person in the Congress has the right to place his views before the Congress and to get them accepted by the majority. So long as these views are lawful and constitutional, no matter who places them before the Congress and gets them accepted, after discussion, he should not be branded as a terrible person out to capture the Congress.” He advised the moderates not to pull other people’s legs if they could not run themselves. Gokhale’s Death

Gokhale’s illness took a turn for the worse. The criticism to which he was subjected in the Marathi press was a great shock to him. In January 1915, Lord Willingdon, who was the then Governor of Bombay, thought that the time was ripe to grant a new instalment of reforms, in view of the revolutionary changes that were going on all over the world. Accordingly he sent word to Gokhale asking him to “put down on paper what he considered was the minimum reform which would satisfy India, coming from the government of its own accord. This matter was to be kept very confidential.” Gokhale said that he wanted to consult Pherozeshah Mehta and the Aga Khan. A meeting was arranged but Lord Willingdon was in a hurry and so on Wednesday, 17th February 1915, Gokhale sent three copies of a document which subsequendy came to be known as “Gokhale’s Political Will and Testament.” Two days later, on Friday, 19th February 1915, Gokhale died at the age of 49. The passing of ‘this great saint and soldier of national righteousness,’ to borrow the words of Sarojini Naidu, was an occasion of universal grief. Tilak was at Sinhgad and came down to Poona on hearing the news. He paid a visit to Gokhale’s house immediately and made a most moving speech at the tame of the funeral. To the vast crowd that had gathered at the cremation ground and which cheered him, Tilak said that it was no time for cheers, but it was a time for shedding tears. He went on: “This diamond of India, this jewel of Maharashtra, this prince of workers is taking eternal rest on the funeral ground. Look at him and try to emulate him. Mr. Gokhale has passed away from our midst, after having satisfactorily performed his duty. Will anyone of you come forward to take his place? Like a triumphant hero, he is passing away, after having made his name immortal. Not only none of you here assembled, but no other citizen in all India will be able to give such a satisfactory account in the other world of having done his duty to his motherland. Upto this time very few have had the fortune of being able to render”an account before God of having done their true duty. I knew Mr. Gokhale from his youth. He was an ordinary and simple man in the beginning. He was not an inamdar, he was not a jahgirdar; he was not a chief. He was an ordinary man like all of us here. He rose to such eminence by sheer force of genius, ability and work. Mr. Gokhale is passing away from our midst, but he has left behind him much to emulate. Everyone of you ought to place his example before his eyes, and try to fill the gap; and if you will try your best to emulate him in this way, he will feel glad even in the next world.” The same note was struck in the obituary article that Tilak wrote in the Kesari

on the 23rd February 1915. “The news of the Hon. Gopal Krishna Gokhale’s death on Friday night at about 11 o’clock will fill the mind of everyone with distraction, mingled with surprise, sorrow, despair and thoughts about the transitoriness of our stay in this world.” Tilak next strikes a characteristic note found in almost all his obituary articles and to which he had made a reference in his funeral speech. By his self-sacrifice and dedication to the cause of public service, Tilak and his colleagues in the Deccan Education Society had cut out a new path in public life. They were responsible for setting up what was to be a new standard of greatness, deserving public, acclamation based on qualities of genius, talent and public service instead of the old standards of noble birth, wealth or high-salaried government office. About Gokhale he writes, “That the son of a poor Brahmin after passing out from his school should depart with his name on the lips of everyone, young or old, is no mean achievement, particularly so when we consider that he acquired it without the aid of such external accessories as elephants, horses, wealth or power. The true secret of Gokhale’s life is that this can be done by anyone who makes use of his talents and industry, keeping a high ideal before his mind. People praise Gokhale for many diverse qualities that he had, such as his intellect, his assiduous industry or his gentleness. These, in our opinion, are merely external and there can be a difference of opinion about them. There can, however, be no difference whatsoever as to the inner spring that helped the growth of these qualities. The mainspring of Gokhale’s life was his selfless dedication to the cause of his country. A person, who, after his studies in his childhood, enjoys the pleasures of family life in youth to the full and afterwards, when the physical and mental powers have waned, takes up social service, does not after all command much respect. On the other hand, a person who shows the marvellous self-restraint of dedicating himself to the cause of the country, while the physical powers are still intact, while the body is still able to work for selfish ends, while old age is still far off and when the pleasures of a family life are still alluring and naturally attract the mind, such a person is indeed blessed and such a man was Gokhale.” Referring to Gokhale’s moderate position in politics, Tilak says, “Because his nature was moderate, he was inclined to use moderate means in the fulfilment of the work in hand and many like us thought that such mild remedies were unsuitable. Though there might be a difference between two physicians regarding the diet prescribed and the remedy advocated, still we are fully prepared to admit the greatness of Gokhale as a physician. Gokhale had diagnosed that the country was in a decadent state and to lift it up it was

necessary that we should have a good many qualities. This diagnosis was literally correct. In fact, if at all there is any duty that the Brahmins of today have to perform, it is precisely this. Not tempted by external pomp and glory, with a full knowledge that one is born without riches of any kind and also dies as such, a true Brahmin should follow the duty of service to the motherland as his religion. One who follows this, whether his ways are strong or mild, he includes himself in the class of nation-builders....” Lastly Tilak pays a glowing tribute to Gokhale when he, quoting from the ancient law-giver Manu, says: “The path travelled by the preceptor and the one followed by the preceptor’s preceptor is the true path of public welfare, and one who follows it will never repent and so the path blazed by such preceptors as Gokhale should be followed by all with zest, courage and determination.” Tilak also made a touching reference in moving a resolution of condolence at the 17th Bombay Provincial Conference. He expressed the feeling that his sadness and sorrow were all the greater because he was in part responsible in introducing Mr. Gokhale into the field in which that zealous and sincere worker lost his life by over work. It is reported here that “Mr. Tilak seemed at this stage much moved by the sad thoughts in his mind and his faltering voice, a trait rarely seen in Mr. Tilak, betrayed the sorrow concealed in his bosom.”7 Tilak reminded his audience that people should not judge his relations with Gokhale by what appeared on the outside. He had worked with Gokhale for eight years in Fergus son College and had known him in his various capacities in his political career. How deeply Tilak felt the void created by Gokhale’s death was also seen by what he said to a few young graduates, whom he called one day through N. C. Kelkar, soon after Gokhale’s death. His main concern was that all those who had devoted themselves to the service of the country in his generation as also in the generation of Gokhale had passed away. With himself and Gokhale at the forefront of the nationalist and the moderate parties, Poona was so far in the vanguard of politics. He, therefore, said after a free and frank discussion that went on for more than two hours, “I have not called you so that you should continue my quarrels or that you should carry on the policy that I advocated. I want you to be workers in the cause of the nation. Do not let go the lead that was I with Poona so far. Whatever you do will have my support.”

The Home Rule League In the confidential letter, Gokhale had referred to Tilak’s intention to start a National League if the compromise talks failed. Tilak now concentrated his energies on starting a Home Rule League. The idea was an old one, broached to him as early as in 1899 by Joseph Baptista, Barrister-at-Law. Tilak had thanked Baptista for a proposition that the latter had moved at the Cambridge Union, stigmatising the policy of the government in prosecuting editors for sedition as unwarranted and unwise. Baptista suggested the formation of a Home Rule League for India after the model of the Irish League but Tilak thought it to be too premature an idea then. Baptista opened the subject once again at the Calcutta Congress in 1906, “when Lord Curzon’s partition of Bengal had transformed Macaulay’s Bengalis into militant Mazzinis.” “Too early yet but not too late,” Tilak observed. “My third venture,” continues Baptista, “was in 1915 after his return from exile in Mandalay when he singled me out for the Presidentship of the Bombay Provincial Conference to be held at Poona. The time is ripe now,’ said I. ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘but would it be right to raise the issue of Home Rule now while the war is raging?’ ‘So long as we perform our duty and render all help we can to win the war, we can proclaim our rights with a clean conscience,’ said I. ‘In fact we are only hastening the advent of the proudest day in the history of England - according to Macaulay.’ ‘I am afraid we shall be hastening the advent of the day of my return journey to Mandalay,’ said he. ‘However, the prospect is worth the risk. You should suggest it in your presidential address.’ I did so. It bore good fruit as Mrs. Besant took it up with characteristic enthusiasm and energy.” Thus it was the Bombay Provincial Conference that gave the war-cry to the nationalist party - the cry of Home Rule. In fact it was Tilak’s idea, after the failure of the compromise talks to resuscitate the old Provincial Conference where he hoped to command a majority. He tried to get Vithalbhai Patel as the president; but on his declining, Joseph Baptista was chosen. All the prominent followers of Tilak - Dr. Munje, Aney, Paranjpe, Khadilkar, Belvi, Gangadharrao Deshpande - were there and the secretary was N. C. Kelkar. A committee, with Tilak, Baptista and Belvi as members, was appointed in this conference to state the views of the Nationalist party regarding the compromise. The report said that in view of the future good of the country and the present situation it was

necessary to have a compromise. It was decided at this conference that the next conference should be held at Belgaum, where again, Tilak was sure that he would command a large backing. The moderates held their Provincial Convention at Belgaum simultaneously with the National Provincial Conference at Poona, but it was very poorly attended. Though the idea of starting the Home Rule League was an old one, the first Home Rule League was given a concrete form in Mrs. Besant’s Common Weal on 25th September 1915. This League, she declared, was to be a complement to the Indian National Congress with the object of giving political education.8 It was decided to open a branch of the League in London. Mrs. Besant also made the sensational disclosure that the League had secured the blessings of Dadabhai Naoroji, who had agreed to be its president. This raised a controversy, the Bombay moderates like Waccha objecting to the starting of the League, thinking that the extremists would use it for wrecking the Congress. There was another section that took a favourable view by pointing out that “while the Congress remained a deliberative body, there should be an organisation to do the day-to-day, active, propagandist work for securing Home Rule.” Dadabhai was unflinching in his support, though Sir William Wedderburn who had first agreed to support it thought afterwards that as he was the president of the British Committee of the Congress, it was undesirable that he should be the head of another political organisation. It was not on grounds of principles that he declined, but on those of tactics. Tilak, as could be expected, gave wholehearted support to Mrs. Besant’s idea, pointing out that just as the government had not promised to grant self-government within a particular period say, a century the extremists also had fixed no limit that they would not demand it before a particular time. The only difference between the extremists and the moderates would be how soon the demand was to be pressed. It was with this view that the idea of the Home Rule League deserved support. Mrs. Besant’s idea was widely supported by Moderate papers like the Leader of Allahabad, the Advocate of Lucknow and the Hitavada of Nagpur. Bhupendranath Basu presided over a meeting addressed by Mrs. Besant; but in deference to public opinion, Mrs. Besant decided to postpone the starting of the League for sometime till the session of the Congress was held. It was decided that the question should be discussed at the time of the Congress session. A happy augury was the decision of the Muslim League to hold its session at the same time with the Congress. National minded and liberal Muslims like Jinnah were now successful in bringing the League nearer to the Congress.

Death of the Lion of Bombay Before anything concrete could be achieved, the indomitable Bombay stalwart of the moderate party, Pherozeshah Mehta, passed away in November 1915. “Our India, after all is already a weak nation. Under the iron rule of the bureaucracy formed by British officials there is little scope for the growth of such qualities as independence, courage, determination; but fortunately Sir Pherozeshah Mehta had all these qualities and that is why there is unaccountable loss felt by the country at his death,” Tilak wrote in an obituary article in the Kesari of 16th November 1915. He called Pherozeshah a lion among men and referred to his courageous stand during a period of 45 years, his determined and eloquent words, his innate pride, his tigerlike fierce countenance, his resonant thundering voice, his ability to silence his opponent with irrefutable argument. Pherozeshah was one of those who placed the service of India as a whole, including all its communities, in the forefront. That was why everything that he did or said had an unmistakable stamp of patriotism. It is unfortunate, Tilak concluded, that at the present juncture when the country was once again, as in 1906, debating the question of the Congress creed, it should be deprived of the sage counsel of a leader like Pherozeshah.

Towards Consolidation On the eve of the Congress in 1915, permission was asked by a number of Tilak’s followers to be allowed to be present at the Congress session, if not as delegates, at least as spectators. Suggestions were made to Tilak also that he should attend the Congress, but to all this Tilak’s reply was that he could attend only if the creed was amended. It was, however, the stern opposition of the Bombay people that prevented the rapprochement. Tilak now thought of consolidating his party still further by the immediate inauguration of the Home Rule League while the Congress session was still going on. He called an urgent meeting of his followers from Maharashtra, Karnatak, Berar, Nagpur, Bengal and Madras. A committee was appointed under Khaparde’s chairmanship to plan the Home Rule League and in April 1916 it was decided to have the Provincial Conference at Belgaum. On the eve of the Congress session Tilak wrote a series of articles on the Home Rule League in the Kesari, in which he expounded at considerable length the idea of the League. The relationship between India and England, Tilak said, was so far one between a loyal servant and his master; it should now be between one loyal friend and another. To the objection that it was not proper to discuss such issues when the government was engaged in a war, Tilak’s answer was that they did not demand all at once. They were prepared to go all the way to help the government. But just as they were loyal they were equally eager for Swaraj. Their demand was not in the nature of a present or gift. It was a natural right of a people that they should have a hand in the administration of the country. Going on to clarify the demand for Swaraj, Tilak said, that it was not Swaraj bereft of the British, it was as a part and parcel of the British Empire that they put forth the demand. “India is a land of many religions and many different provinces — to keep these together some common bond is necessary and this is better provided by impartial rulers like the British. That is why Indian leaders do not wish to break away from the British Empire. It was, therefore, the same demand as that put forward as early as 1906 by Dadabhai Naoroji and which is supported today by Mrs. Besant, Wedderburn and others.” The second article advocated complete autonomy in certain specified items in the internal administration of the country. Under local self-government there are as many nominated or government members as there are elected ones. This vitiates the

real principle of autonomy. The powers of government officials should be limited and the whole administration of a province should be carried on by the advice of the elected representatives of the people. About the Secretary of State and his Council it may be said that the Council could be dispensed with as autonomy could be granted to India on the advice of the people of India and foreign affairs could be managed by the Secretary of State alone. The third of the articles criticised the idea of resuscitating the villages as self- sufficient units of administration as in the days of old; for the Swaraj that was being demanded was more the concern of the provinces than that of the government of India. The village units of old disappeared on account of enforcement of a new constitution. It is necessary to demand first that the right now with the provinces should be with the people. The village may be the basis of Swaraj but the demand for Swaraj need not be confined merely to the basis but should include the province as well. The question of the revival of the village comes in only when provincial autonomy is gained. For this the Governor’s executive council should have an elected majority, but in order that it should work in harmony there should be a principle similar to the one that empowers the prime minister in England to choose members of his own party to form the cabinet. The fourth article speaks of the Central Assembly of the Government of India as a seed of the future Parliament of India. When all the provinces become to a large extent autonomous the control of the Central Assembly of the Government of India would be the same as that exercised by the American Congress over its States. The members to this assembly would be elected and be representatives of all the castes, creeds or callings. Among the main powers that it might have the major one would be a control on the budget. It would also have the right as in the British Parliament of asking questions, bringing in legislative bills, etc. On the 29th March a meeting was held in Poona to congratulate Lord Hardinge on the successful termination of his tenure of Vice-royalty. Tilak took a prominent part in the meeting and thus paved the way for a better understanding between the moderate and the extremist parties as also between the government and Tilak.

Belgaum Conference The 18th Provincial Conference was held at Belgaum on the 29th April. It was attended by 1,700 delegates from the Bombay Province alone. This number, Tilak pointed out, was considerably larger than the number of delegates from Bombay attending the 1915 Congress at Bombay. Khaparde, in his Presidential Address, clarified the differences between the moderates and the extremists by pointing out that the ideal of Swaraj, proclaimed by Dadabhai Naoroji in 1906, was wholly approved of by the extremists; while the moderates, for obvious reasons, were only lukewarm in their support to it. Tilak had once again to encounter the opposition of his followers, prominent among whom was Dr. Munje. Tilak tried in vain to persuade him, but he was adamant in not accepting the compromise. He even went to the length of suggesting that just as when the power of an avatar was on the wane such a person as Krishna or Parashuram was defeated, the time of Tilak’s defeat had come.9 Tilak assured him that the way proposed by him would prove to be right in the end. Munje remained unconvinced till the conference but, he reports, when after the conference the Times of India wrote complimenting Tilak’s diplomatic move in piloting the compromise scheme, Munje was convinced of the far-sighted nature of Tilak’s stand and went and apologised to him. Others like Gangadharrao Deshpande of Belgaum, tired of the hairsplitting and endless discussions, went to Tilak and told him that he was one of those who regarded personalities as principles and therefore would willingly set aside his personal views in deference to Tilak. Tilak replied that all were not of this view and so it was better to have a discussion. He stated clearly that as nothing was done by remaining out of the Congress, he was for entering it even by signing the creed. As Tilak was severely criticised by his followers for what appeared to many as his moderate stand, he purposely delivered his speech on the compromise resolution in English so that there would be no misrepresentation or misunderstanding. This conference was attended by Mahatma Gandhi. It was through Kaka Kalelkar that Gangadharrao Deshpande invited Gandhi to the conference. At this time Gandhi was thinking of joining the Servants of India Society; but the question was deferred on account of sharp differences among the members.

Deshpande reports that when the moderates from Bombay tried to prevent Gandhi from attending the Belgaum Conference, as Gandhi’s presence, in their opinion, would unduly make it important, Gandhi’s reply to Deshpande was ‘Nothing but death will prevent me from going to Belgaum.’ Accordingly he attended and spoke in Hindi. “Gandhi stood, for a genuine compromise and pointed out: ‘If they passed the resolution in the hope that after joining the Congress they would drive away the opponents in it, neither the Congress nor the extremists, nor the country, would gain anything.’ Gandhi affirmed that he was neither a moderate nor an extremist.” Gandhi had prolonged discussions with Tilak and his followers, and when Deshpande asked Tilak what his impressions on these discussions were, the answer given by Khaparde instead of Tilak, was “He is not of us!” Deshpande writes that it was his impression that Tilak did not approve of this though he said nothing. The great achievement of the Belgaum Conference was the inauguration of the Home Rule League, six months before Mrs. Besant started hers. Tilak made it quite clear, and Mrs. Besant also agreed with him, that though there were two Leagues, there was no conflict or rivalry between them. Mrs. Besant herself has written: “During 1915, I again met Mr. Tilak, and we decided to start two Home Rule Leagues, since some of his followers disliked me and some of mine disliked him. We, however, had no quarrel with each other.... Mr. Tilak presided over one League and I over the other, the two working harmoniously side by side...”

Tilak on Home Rule In spite of this harmony between the two Leagues their methods of work were different. Mrs. Besant also carried on agitation for national education, Swadeshi, etc., through her League. When some of Tilak’s followers wanted this wider programme to be included in his League Tilak’s answer was: “Our Home Rule League is started for no other purpose except that of getting Home Rule. We shall not carry on any other activity through it; nor would it be proper to do so. These movements should be carried on separately if necessary, but they should have no connection whatsoever with the Home Rule League. This League is established for the purpose of getting Swaraj and all its efforts will be directed towards it. Nothing else will be included in it.” A truly whirlwind propaganda was carried on by Tilak. He went from place to place delivering lectures and holding discussions, thus consolidating the Home Rule League. In the 18th Provincial Conference at Belgaum in May 1916, Tilak spoke on Home Rule, and clarified the basic idea behind the movement: “It is an undisputed fact that we should secure our own good under the rule of the English people themselves, under the supervision of the English nation, with the help of the English nation, through their sympathy, through their anxious care and through those high sentiments which they possess. The British Government ruling from England is an invisible government it is like the idea of Brahma in the Vedantic philosophy. The great Brahma is without attributes or form. The visible form which it assumes when it begins to come under the temptation of Maya or illusion is sure to change. Similarly the invisible government does not change and the visible government changes every moment. The question of Home Rule is a question of changing the visible government as it is. It is the desire of the Home Rulers to bring about a change in the visible government so that it passes into the hands of some agency that is more beneficent to India Those who carry on the administration of India, right from the Secretary of State and the Viceroy to the Collector and the Sepoy, must be changed if their rule is not found to be useful or good to the people of India. To say this is no sedition.” Tilak goes on to speak next about the helpless condition to which the people of India were reduced which made them dependent on a government official like the Collector at every moment. The Home Rulers, he said, wanted to change this arrangement. What they wanted was the power to appoint their own men, their

own Collectors, their own Mamlatdars. About the nature of the present conflict Tilak said: “When I ask for the authority to manage my household affairs, I do not say give me the income which you obtain and do not spend it. What we want is the double responsibility of collecting as also of spending it. It is only by acquiring the right of management that one can learn the responsibility.” “India,” Tilak said, “was like a son who had grown up and attained majority. It was right now that the trustee or the father should give him what was his due. The people of India must get this effected. They have a right to do so.” Herein lay the root of the Home Rule demand. In an article in the Kesari on the 9th May 1916 on “The Belgaum Conference and Compromise,” Tilak clarified all the issues coming in the way of a compromise between the moderates and the extremists. The extremists, he said, agreed to the idea of Swaraj, enunciated by Dadabhai Naoroji in 1906. Later on, though attempts were made by the moderates to restrict the scope of Swaraj, the extremists believed in the original connotation of the idea as given in the present constitution and creed. That the idea of Swaraj is not to be realised in the near future and will take a long time — perhaps an age — is a conception to which neither Dadabhai nor the nationalists have subscribed. It is an idea of the British bureaucracy, which has now been discountenanced even by the moderates in recent years. So far as matters of principles were involved, there was no difference between the moderates and the extremists. The only difference was the technical one of allowing the extremists to send their delegates through their own bodies or meetings organised by them. It was natural that there would be differences in the Congress; but the only way of solving these differences was by majority decision. To compromise does not mean unity on each and every issue; it requires a frankness of mind and openness of approach to each other. Both parties should be prepared to meet each other half way, as it is not a question of prestige but diplomacy.

Ahmednagar Speeches The agitation for Home Rule, under the Home Rule League, was now gathering momentum. Tilak and his lieutenants, Baptista, N. C. Kelkar and others, delivered lectures at various places and the membership of the League went on increasing. In the course of his propaganda tour Tilak delivered two lectures on Home Rule at the Ahmednagar District Conference, presided over by N. C. Kelkar. In these, once again he made it quite clear that what they wanted was not the right to do away with the Emperor but authority to rule over themselves. The British Government, he declared, could be maintained at the head; but an arrangement similar to that obtaining in other colonies should be introduced here. “There in the colonies, they have got in their own hands all the power, the right of ownership and the power to make laws. This does not affect the Emperor. There is no attempt to overthrow the British Government, but this is an attempt to make the British rule more pleasing to the people. Some people will lose their means of maintenance, that is not denied; but we do not think that the Emperor has reserved India for these people.... The Emperor ought to give power into the hands of the people without making any distinction between Indian and British subjects.” Again, in the second lecture, he said, “My friend Mr. Kelkar has already told you that Swarajya does not mean that our authority is to be established here by driving away the British. Some people will have to be driven away. Swarajya is not driving away the King and taking his authority into one’s hands. It means taking into the hand the subjects’ rights.” The question that he asked, therefore, was: “If while his kingly position is maintained in England and the English people obtain rights of freedom, what difficulty is there in obtaining the rights of British citizenship, the same king continuing to be Emperor in India?” What they wanted with the help of Swaraj, he said, were simple things. “Our trade should expand, the population should increase, there should be plenty and that plenty should fall into our hands....” A very important part of the first lecture, was his definition of the term ‘aliens’ which he applied to the British. By “alien,’ he said, he did not mean people alien in religion. “He who does what is beneficial to the people of this country, be he a Muhammadan or an Englishman, is not alien. Alienness is not connected with

religion, trade or profession; it is a question of interests.... If a man is exerting himself for the good of India, and takes measures in that direction, I do not consider him an alien, but the government does not do this and therefore it is alien.” He was always ready to give credit to the government for whatever good that they had done such as the construction of roads, building up of railways, establishment of telegraphs and post offices.... “These things have been done, done well and have been done better by the British Government than they would have been done by the former governments — this is an honour to them. But should we not tell it to do those things which it does not do?” He referred next to the splendid war service rendered by the Indian people, which had made it imperative that we should get the same rights that the people in other places in the British empire were getting. Advocating a need of change in the administration, he said, “We must be prepared to maintain the things which we consider to be true and tell them to the people, to the officers and even to the Emperor. On the day you will be ready to do this, particularly after the war is over, the administration will have to be changed. The English Government, today, is the most powerful; but to keep it so, change must necessarily be made in the present administration. If you wish to remain slaves, do so. ... What is the use of giving advice to one who likes slavery? But this is not what all men want. That is not what the traders or the Mussalmans or the Hindus want. They want one medicine and that is power. When it comes to us, if there are any quarrels we would be able to settle them.” In the second lecture, Tilak made a reference to Rabindranath Tagore’s poem on the caged and the free birds and said that India was reduced to a position of utter dependence. “People ask: If Swarajya be got how are we to manage it? But ability can only come with the opportunity to exercise it.” Defining the idea of Swaraj he said, “Give us those rights which native states have.... With the difference that we do not want a hereditary chief. We shall have to elect our own president.” The change that he wanted, he clarified, had nothing to do with the British Government: “The only difference lay in the disappearance of the authority of the bureaucracy — the foreign bureaucracy; the management of the army and navy should be kept in the hands of the English so that the English rule may not be in danger. The higher questions of Imperial politics such as the power of making treaties with other nations or foreign questions can be with the

English. What we want is authority to manage internal affairs as in the Native States.” About the question of a preference for any particular European nation Tilak’s stand was unequivocal: “If Indians are prepared to have connection with any particular country, that nation is England.” In the new arrangement of the provinces the question of language also, according to Tilak, must enter. “Form one separate State each for Marathi, Telugu and Kanarese provinces. The question of vernaculars also comes in with this question of Swarajya. The principle that education should be given through the vernaculars is self-evident and clear. Do the English educate their people through the French language? Do Germans do it through English or the Turks through French?” To Kaka Kalelkar he said at the time of the Bombay Provincial Conference at Belgaum,10 “Look how the provinces are separating thems Gujarat and now Karnatak are separating from what we call the Bombay Provincial Conference now. From one point of view this is good; for even ordinary people will be taking part in political discussions when they are carried on in the Indian languages.” V. B. Alur, translator of the Gita Rahasya into Kannada, says: “The Lokmanya deserves to be given the first place among those who advocated linguistic provinces in the idea of Swaraj. In the Bombay Provincial Conference of 1915, when, on the death of Gokhale, I stood to support his condolence resolution, he told me: ‘Speak in Kannada to establish the right of Kannada language.’ Joseph Baptista also advocated the need of linguistic provinces. I said afterwards to Tilak, by way of joke, This advice of yours will result in Karnatak being separated from Maharashtra.’ Tilak said with seriousness, ‘You must learn to carry on your struggle independently. How can you be fit for Swaraj unless you learn this ABC?’ ” As for the educational system under Swaraj, his idea was “Let us have the system prevalent in England for imparting education. India is a big country. Divide it according to languages. Separate the Marathi-speaking part and the Gujarati.” About the Hindus and the Muslims he gave the example of Canada, where there was a mixed population of Frenchmen and Englishmen. If English statesmen could settle the question there, would they not be able to settle how Hindus and Mohammedans should conduct themselves?” “When we ask for Swaraj,” he continued, “we may have at first an Englishman coming from

England as the Governor but in the end Presidents elected by the people should be appointed in these states and a separate Council formed for disposing of questions relating to the whole nation. We want the same arrangement as the one existing in Europe and the United States of America. Just as there are different small States and there is a Congress to unite them, so the Government of India should keep in their hands similar powers of the Imperial Council. There are at present seven or eight different provinces; make them twenty if you like and make such arrangements in respect of those provinces as will give facilities to the people, meet with their approval and place power in their hands. This itself is what is meant by the demand of Swarajya.” The real work of pressing the demand had to be done in England. “We must go to England and convince the people of it. When the subject is discussed in Parliament, the demand will be placed before them in the proper form. That proper manner will be a bill to amend the existing India Act to be brought before Parliament. This should be done not merely for our good but for the good of the Empire....” 61st Birthday On the 23rd July 1916 the 61st birthday of Tilak was celebrated throughout Maharashtra. The completion of the 60th year is considered to be a significant landmark in a person’s life according to the Hindu scriptures. Tilak’s followers and associates wanted to pay a fitting homage to the great savant by celebrating the occasion in an appropriate manner. The occasion was a unique one, in that Tilak was the only survivor among the public workers of Maharashtra of his generation. He had survived very recently the terrible ordeal of a prolonged incarceration and on coming out had once again devoted himself to the service of the people. The indefatigable energy that he had shown in the Home Rule League agitation was clear proof that sufferings had not abated his fervour. It could truly be said of him in the words of a modern dramatist:11 “Even in the teeth of the storm, and amid the rustling of many winds rides fortitude, and patience has no need of any moon to light her way. “Out of the womb of the might shall come endurance, and fresh from the pools of hell arises faith.

“Much shall be lost amid the roar of battle, but the precious thing endureth to the gates.” Tilak’s followers decided to present him a purse in token of their gratitude for his services to the country. The response was tremendous. Within a fortnight more than Rs. 50,000 were raised and the fund swelled to the respectable figure of Rs. 1,00,000. The birthday celebration took place in the Gaikwad Wada and the meeting was very largely attended. Tilak was visibly moved when he rose to reply. He expressed his sense of gratitude for the purse presented to him and said that he looked upon it as a sacred trust and declared his intention to utilise it for some national activity by adding to it something of his own. In conclusion he said, “Do not be satisfied with the paltry service rendered by a person like me. The national work before us is so wide and so essential that all of us should strive for it with much greater determination and enthusiasm. You cannot postpone the work. Our motherland challenges us to go after this and I do not think that her sons will refuse the challenge. But I would urge upon you to sink all your differences and be ‘national gods.’ In this holy realm there is no competition, no rivalry and no scope for petty vanities, fear has no space here.... What we do will be fruitful, if not in our generation, at least in the next.... This is why we should be after this national work without wishing for anything in return....”

The Security Case The government did not lag behind in paying their homage and came out with an appropriate gift. On the day of his birthday anniversary celebrations, a notice was served on Tilak asking him to show cause why he should not be bound over for good behaviour for a period of one year in a sum of Rs. 20,000 in his own recognisance and in two securities of Rs. 10,000 each. Three of his speeches on Home Rule were picked up, the one delivered at Belgaum (1st May 1916); and two at Ahmednagar (31st May and 1st June 1916). Joseph Baptista writes: “News reached me diat the Government of Bombay contemplated prosecuting Tilak for his speech. I took the liberty of representing to Lord Willingdon personally the unwisdom of the step. He was evidently reluctant to prosecute and consented to reconsider the matter in the Council, while I was to ascertain the attitude of Mr, Tilak towards possible peace with honour. Lord Willingdon’s government meanwhile resolved to take legal action, but it was a great relief to me that it was under the Criminal Procedure Code and not the Penal Code. Tilak was manifestly pleased. The Lord is with us,’ said he, ‘Home rule will now spread like wildfire.’ The case opened in the Court of Mr. G. W. Hatch, I.C.S., District Magistrate of Poona, on Saturday, 22nd July 1916. In the affidavit made by Mr. Gyder, the Superintendent of Police, it was stated “Tilak is a man of means, he owns the Kesari Press and the Gaikwad Wada. He is a man of considerable influence and has wealthy friends. At the present moment his friends are collecting Rs. 50,000 to be presented to him on his birthday. He should be ordered to execute a bond for a sum of Rs. 20,000 with two securities each in a sum of Rs. 10,000.” Mr. B. D. Binning, Bar-at-Law, and Mr. N. M. Patwardhan, Bar-at-Law, instructed by Khan Bahadur S. C. Davar appeared for the Crown. Tilak was defended by the Hon’ble Mr. M. A. Jinnah, Bar-at-Law, assisted by D. S. Erulkar, R. P. Karandikar, S. R. Bakhale, M. L. Patil, S. K. Damle, N. C. Kelkar and S. G. Lele. Mr. Binning in opening the case for the Crown referred to his imperfect knowledge of Marathi. About the speeches it seemed to him that they did not advocate any definite scheme for Swaraj or Home Rule. They contained some amusing and some dull stories, excellent from the literary point of view but there was no definition of Home Rule or Swaraj in them. Many of the observations, he contended, such as ‘Does the Emperor lose anything whether the administration