Mother's Chronicles - Book Five

45

A Mahratta Shoe

"History very seldom records the things that were decisive but took place behind the veil; it records the show in front of the curtain," said Sri Aurobindo. "Very few people know that it was I (without consulting Tilak) who gave the order that led to the breaking of the Congress and was responsible for the refusal to join the new-fangled Moderate Convention which were the two decisive happenings at Surat." He then added, "Even my action in giving the movement in Bengal its militant turn or founding the revolutionary movement is very little known."

The morning of Friday, 27 December, dawned. Few had slept the two previous nights as the emissaries went back and forth. Amid uncertainty a general anticipation of peace prevailed. The Nationalist party men were instructed to allow all speakers a fair hearing and create no tumult. But unknown to older leaders, a "Mahratta leader —a lieutenant —came to me and asked me whether they should break the Congress," recalled Sri Aurobindo. "I said, 'y^ou must either swamp it or break it.' They couldn't swamp it as the other party was strong

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in number." The Moderate Party had managed to chalk up the number of delegates to 1300 while the Nationalists could muster something over 1100. "So they broke it." Sri Aurobindo was frank.

But anticipating some untoward happenings —at least not discounting their possibility —some revolutionary cadres from Midnapore were detailed to guard Sri Aurobindo. Some eight to ten young men were positioned around him. Barin was there, Satyen was there. Asked Dr. Manilal, "Was there any chance of personal injury, Sir ?"

"Not that I know of," replied Sri Aurobindo. "Only Satyen Bose was with me and he had a pistol. He said to me, 'I have a pistol with me. Shall I shoot Suren Banerji?' I said, 'For heaven's sake, don't do that.'"

"But why did he want to shoot him?" queried Dr. Manilal.

"He must have got very excited. At any rate there was a pistol, there was Satyen and there was Banerji."

Here is Nevinson to take up the tale. "By noon the Pan-dal was again full to overflowing. At one o'clock the Presidential procession entered." The Congress leaders "took their seats behind the green table that stretched the whole length of the high-raised platform, before which there was no railing, but only, as it were, an escarpment for defence."

Nevinson was surprised to see that "in the front row of the delegates, not in the place reserved for him on the platform, Mr. Tilak was seated." As a matter of fact, no Nationalist leader was seated on the dais. "As the procession entered he sent a note

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to the Chairman by one of the boy Volunteers to say he wished to speak on the election of the President after the seconder had spoken." The Chairman of the Reception Committee was Tribhuvandas Malvi of Surat.

It is likely that Nevinson did not know. The Nationalists had really striven hard to avoid a showdown. Tilak and Khaparde had failed in their attempt to meet Malvi the previous day. Nor did they meet with more success in seeing Gokhale or Pherozeshah Mehta. Finally at about 12:30, with a bare half-hour left Tilak gave up all hope and pencilled a note to T. D. Malvi, the Chairman:

"Sir, I wish to address the delegates on the proposal of the election of the President after it is seconded. I wish to move an adjournment with a constructive proposal. Please announce me.

Yours sincerely,

B. G. TILAK

Deccan Delegate (Poona)."

This note, noticed by Nevinson, was put by a volunteer into the hands of the Chairman as he was entering the pandal with the President-Elect in procession.

Tilak received no reply. Even a reminder to the Chairman that "Mr. Tilak requests a reply to his note," went unanswered.

Several speakers spoke, including Surendranath and Motilal Nehru. "Everyone went delicately, moving on a crust of ashes," describes Nevinson picturesquely. "In inaudible words Mr. Malvi proposed that Dr. [Rash Behari] Ghose

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should take the Chair as President, and amid various shouting he declared the motion carried. Heavy with years and knowledge, Dr. Ghose transferred himself to the seat, and rose at once to deliver that thoughtfully prepared address. 'Brother Delegates, Ladies and Gentlemen,' he began, 'my first duty is to tender you my thanks for the signal honour you have done me.'

"Beyond his first duty he never went. As when lightning flashes in air surcharged with storm, Mr. Tilak was seen standing straight in front of the Presidential Chair itself, expostulating, protesting, all in that calm, decisive voice of his, the voice of a man indifferent to fate. He had given notice of an amendment, he was there to move it, and there he would remain. 'You cannot move an adjournment of the Congress,' cried Mr. Malvi; 'I declare you out of order.' 'I wish to move an amendment to the election of President, and you are not in the Chair,' Mr. Tilak replied. 'I declare you out of order!' cried Dr. Ghose. 'You have not been elected,' answered Mr. Tilak; 'I appeal to the delegates.'

"Uproar drowned the rest. With folded arms Mr. Tilak faced the audience. On either side of him young Moderates sprang to their feet, wildly gesticulating vengeance. Shaking their fists and yelling to the air, they clamoured to hurl him down the steep of the platform. Behind him, Dr. Ghose mounted the table, and, ringing an unheard bell, harangued the storm in shrill, agitated, unintelligible denunciations. Restraining the rage of Moderates ... Mr. Gokhale, sweet-natured even in extremes, stood beside his old opponent, flinging out both arms to protect him from the threatened onset. But Mr. Tilak asked for no protection. He stood there with folded arms, defiant, calling on violence to do its worst, calling on violence

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to move him, for he would move for nothing else in hell or heaven. In front, the white-clad audience roared like a tumultuous sea."

A flash from Sri Aurobindo. "There was a tremendous uproar, the young Gujerati volunteers lifted up chairs over the head of Tilak to beat him. At that the Mahrattas became furious." The Mahratta youth all jumped down towards the platform. And "a Mahratta shoe came hurtling across the pavilion aimed at the President...."

Nevinson takes it up here. "Suddenly something flew through the air —a shoe! —a Mahratta shoe 1 — reddish leather, pointed toe, sole studded with lead. It struck Surendra Nath Banerjea on the cheek; it cannoned off upon Sir Pherozeshah Mehta. It flew, it fell, and, as at a given signal, white waves of turbaned men surged up the escarpment of the platform. Leaping, climbing, hissing the breath of fury, brandishing long sticks, they came, striking at any head that looked to them Moderate, and in another moment, between brown legs standing upon the green-baize table, I caught glimpses of the Indian National Congress dissolving in chaos."

When the young Mahrattas in a body charged up to the platform, the Moderate leaders fled. "I never saw such a human race I"

Tilak was borne off by his followers. Then Sri Aurobindo quietly left the pavilion. He had stood there calm and rocklike amid the whirlwind.

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And Nevinson. "Like Goethe at the battle of Val my, I could have said, 'Today marks the beginning of a new era, and you can say that you were present at it.'"

The Mahratta shoe acted like a lighted matchstick thrown on a pile of dynamite. "In the vast pavilion itself a combat raged at large. Chairs, useless now except as missiles, flew through the air like shells discharged at a venture; long sticks clashed and shivered; blood flowed from broken heads. Group rushed upon group, delegate upon delegate. Breathing slaughter, they glared for victims. It was hard to tell friend from foe. Ten thousand men, all crowded together among ten thousand chairs, no uniform, no distinction, nothing to mark off Extremist from Moderate except the facial expression of a temperament — it was a confused and difficult conflict to maintain." Finally the police arrived. "Within an hour the vast Pandal, strewn with broken chairs, sticks, and rags of raiment, stood empty as a banquet-hall deserted."

In the twinkling of a shoe the Congress had been changed, and "a new spirit, a different and difficult spirit had indeed arisen in the country."

It had been "roses, roses all the way" on the Wednesday before when the Moderate leaders had travelled to Surat. On Sunday, as the party returned by train, "each station rang with shouts of 'Down with Rash Behari ! 'Down with Gokhale!' 'Down with Surendra Nath!'..."

The Bande Mataram had kept its promise.¹

1. For a hilarious reading see Bande Mataram of 16 February 1918 : 'The Slaying of Congress. A Tragedy in Three Acts .'

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