Tuesday, July 1, 2014

BANKIPORE CLUB, PATNA

                              BANKIPORE CLUB: BEATING COLONIAL ISOLATION

Famously fictionalised as Chandrapore Club by E.M. Forster in his novel A Passage to India Bankipore Club was meant for the elite among the Europeans residing at the civil station of Patna or visiting here from the mufassil. In the novel when Dr. Aziz escorts Mrs. Moore back to the club it is thus far and no further for him; he  tells her that Indians are not allowed into the Chandrapore Club, even as guests. But Bankipore Club was no more racist than other such clubs under the British Raj and there was one at every civil station.  George Orwell echoes the sentiment in his novel Burmese Days:’it was the proud boast of Kyauktada Club that, almost alone of Clubs in Burma, it had never admitted an Oriental to membership’. While entry to Bankipore Club was barred for “Indians and dogs”, poor Europeans at the station - railway workers, British Other Ranks, and, as in A Passage to India, missionaries, were also kept out.
In 1858 Victoria assumed direct control of administration from the East India Company and assumed the title of Queen Empress. The number of government officers went up sharply at Bankipur as new departments became functional. Patna till then referred to what we now call Patna City.  The area along the Ashok Rajpath from Patna Science College to Golghar was known as Bankipur, which the British preferred to spell Bankipore, with offices dotting the flanks. Patna did not extend further west until it became the capital in 1912. What is now Gandhi Maidan was then known as the Oval and later as the Lawn. The British civilian officers mostly had their bungalows around this vast expanse of greenery where Polo was played. It also served as the turf for horse racing. Nothing stood between the Club and the Maidan. For many decades the  club remained a landmark along with St. Joseph’s Convent school and
                                                                     
Catholic Church, the Protestant Church and the Golghar.. Here and there and along the Fraser Road were spread the compounds of the indigo planters and businessmen.
 Outside the working hours the Gora Sahebs had a pretty lonely existence. Most were either bachelors or had left their families behind. A club, a western concept, was replicated in India to compensate for this loneliness.  Bankipore Club was thus born in 1865 as an oasis amidst the desert of colonial isolation. Members would gather here every evening for games and gossip, much as the Mess in Danapur cantonment provided an exclusive venue for Army officers.
Europeans could not have selected a better site for their club; it was high ground overlooking River Ganga. The river then flowed in full glory and its water lapped against the ramparts of the club. Steam ships and barges plying on the river presented a familiar and fascinating sight. One wonders why the British did not acquire all the land between the club and the Maidan; today’s congested access to the club would then have been avoided. Of course, it was not possible to get more space to the east because of the Antaghat  Nala  nor to the west because of the existing Dutch opium godown, today’s collectorate complex. The members did not have enough open space for outdoor sports but they could take a long walk in the Maidan, ride there or play polo. Though a social club rank and hierarchy mattered even inside the club with Commissioner and Opium Agent being shown due deference.                                                                          
Opening of Suez Canal in 1869 made sailing between Home (England) and India smoother and faster. As a result Mem Sahebs and Missi Sahebs in search of husbands started descending on India in droves. As Patna got its share of them so did Bankipore club. Evenings at the club became livelier. Though extra-marital affairs were a taboo, mild flirtation was not frowned upon.                                                                                                                                                                         
                                                                             
There were several eligible bachelors, young civil and military officers, who were a prize catch. Some of them met their future wives on the wooden dance floors of this club. Senior ladies too loved to play match makers and often succeeded.  The newly-weds were feted at the club amidst much fanfare. The Civil & Military Store run by an Anglo-Indian catered to most needs of the members for indigenous and imported stuff.
Things changed for the club when Patna became the provincial capital in 1912. As the New Capital area came to life polo and other sports activities shifted west. Bankipore Club gained in membership and stature as all the big wigs of government flocked here in the evenings with their spouses. The club was incorporated as a public limited company in 1915. Young barristers educated and trained in England lay a claim to membership of the club which embarrassed the government. As a compromise was born the New Patna Club in 1918 to accommodate  Europeanised Indians.  Bankipore Club thus became to New Patna Club what Bengal Club was to Calcutta Club. But Bankipore Club could not retain its European exclusiveness for long. Once the Imperial Services, namely the ICS and IP, were opened to Indians in the early twenties their entry into this snootiest of clubs could not be resisted. Since their number initially was not sizeable they merely aped their white colleagues. Equations started changing from late thirties with independence looming large on the horizon.                                              
                                                                              
When independence finally came in 1947 there was a last ditch attempt by the departing British members to wind up the club and liquidate its assets. Their game plan was frustrated by the now emboldened Indians. After initial hiccups the club settled down nicely to business under Indian
                                                                           
management. The membership of the club comprised mostly of senior government officers with a sprinkling of doctors but very few lawyers and businessmen. Membership of the Bankipore Club in those days was a status symbol, much as the Patna Golf Club emerged the favourite in the 1980s.  Today businessmen dominate and manage the club.
In the nineteen fifties  and early sixties the Companywallas were the crème de la crème of Patna’s westernized elite. MNCs such as Bata, ITC, Burma Shell and Dunlop became corporate members. Their branch managers and other executives posted at Patna wee invariably Indians. They were an intimate social group living in a world of their own.  At the Christmas and New Year Ball at the Bankipore Club, while they danced to the tunes of Moosa Band, the uninitiated government servants and their spouses, too shy to shake a leg, watched and lamented. In March 1970 the East Zone Davis Cup Tournament between India and Pakistan was played for three days at the New Patna Club. The teams and guests were feted lavishly and the festivities concluded with a gala evening at the Bankipore Club with dinner and ball room dancing. Pakistan’s high Commissioner to India was so overwhelmed that tears came to his eyes.
                                                                          
The character of the club has changed over the decades as it was bound to. Successive management committees have brought improvements. While modernization is welcome care should be taken not to disturb the heritage look and character of the club.  Unlike most clubs                                                                        
there is no Chairman or President in this club. The Honorary Secretary, elected by members of the Executive Committee, is the Chief Executive Officer of the club.
It is a long chain of succession from Founder Secretary J. P.W. Johnston to the present incumbent, spanning one hundred and fifty years. This makes Bankipore Club one of the oldest in India. The sesquicentenary of the club is due next year. Planning must start now to make the celebration befitting the dignity of this venerable old man that is our club.


Dr. Sudhir Kumar Jha
(The author is a former Director General of Police, Bihar)



Tuesday, September 24, 2013

ROMANCING THE RAJ

            
                                                            ROMANCING THE RAJ
It is difficult to define romance. It is a highly subjective feeling. Many find romance in the jungle lore of Rudyard Kipling and Jim Corbett while some others in the heroic feats of Rani of Jhansi. However, as commonly understood romance is an emotive love affair surfeit with fantasy, with or without heroism and adventure thrown in. In a broader sense, therefore, nearly two hundred years of British rule in India, commonly referred to as the era of the Raj or simply the Raj, was one continuing romance. Notwithstanding Kipling’s ‘twain’ theory, for the British as well as the Indians the east-west encounter worked as an attraction of the opposites. Fact and fiction fanned this romance. Plenty but not enough ‘romancing’ of the Raj has been attempted in the literature of the time and films made on them.
Stories about the opulence of the Mughal court and the life style of its nobility had reached Britain in bits and pieces. Added to this was the popular notion that India was a quaint land of naked sadhus, snake charmers, beggars and elephants. Adventure and opportunity beckoned triggering flights of fantasy. Romance was in the air before the ships of the East India Company set sail. Having joined the service in India in their teens, these Company civilians succumbed to the spell of India right away. Their ‘unattached male’ existence accentuated their sense of isolation. They sought comfort in the arms of native women whom they took as mistresses and concubines and rarely as legally wedded wives.  Among the signs of their ‘Indianization’ were adopting Indian dress and customs and the wearing of immense whiskers and beards. Several took to smoking hubble-bubble and developed a liking for local cuisine.  They behaved like little ‘nabobs’; William Dalrymple in his magnum opus The White Mughals calls them ‘white Mughals’. They were enjoying the romance that was India.
The idyll was shattered in 1857 by the events of the Sepoy Mutiny. There were by now a sizable number of white women in India. In a crisis situation there invariably was a knight, white or brown, to come to the rescue of damsels in distress. For all its violence and mayhem the Mutiny spawned some captivating fiction which was an amalgam of chivalry and romance. Love Besieged: a Romance of the Defence of Lucknow by Charles E. Pearce is a mix of romance and military adventure within the walls of the besieged city of Lucknow. Katharine Gordon in Emerald Peacock narrates the story of love between an Indian prince and a young Irish woman during the Mutiny. These writings are merely illustrative.
A lot of things changed with the British government assuming direct control of administration in India. Both civil and military officers now looked forward to a more settled life style. Wives braved a month long grueling voyage to join their husbands. Bachelors sought and found romance where and when they could, with Anglo-Indian girls and native maids, but it meant tight rope walking in small places in full public glare.
The opening of the Suez Canal cut the travel time short.  Larger steam ships made the journey more bearable. The onset of India’s cold weather saw hordes of young English women sail out for India on their husband-hunting mission regardless of the inconveniences and hazards of tropical living. They came with such regularity that they were teasingly dubbed the ‘fishing fleet’. The prize catch would be a member of the ‘heaven born’ Indian Civil Service but even lesser ones would do. Those who returned home unwed were unfeelingly referred to as ‘returning empties’. This was a subject dealt with by Mrs. F.E. Penny in her novel The Happy Hunting Ground, and savagely satirized by E. M. Forster in A Passage to India.
Often a man went home on leave and got engaged. The girl joined him a year or two later in India where the wedding took place. But strange are the ways of Cupid. Shipboard romance was a predictable feature of every voyage. A few days under a full moon could lead to a shift in commitment. Imagine the beau waiting at the pier of Bombay (as it was then called) or Karachi (now in Pakistan) dock to find that his fiancée had already left with someone she had met on the voyage.
 As wives of junior officers these brides had to set up their first homes often far up-country after a journey involving trekking and pony ride. Physical inconveniences were more than made up by the ambience most suited for a honeymoon romance. The luckier ones landed in more civilized stations. Having an army of servants to pamper them felt very nice in the beginning but left the ‘powder puff memsahebs’ with all the free time. Sheer idleness and the stifling heat of the Indian summer made them vulnerable to depression and they found escape in different ways. Olivia, a beautiful, spoiled, bored English colonial wife in the 1920s, the heroine of Ruth Jhabwala’s Heat and Dust, is drawn inexorably into the spell of the local Nawab and elopes with him.
That such scandals were few and far between was because action shifted from the plains to the hills. The retreat to the Hills in summer provided a brief escape from the heat of the plains. Field officers could not leave their station but their wives could. Women who did migrate to the cooler climes of the hills found a freedom they could not enjoy in small places.  Both circumstances and surroundings were highly conducive to romance and. a lot of people were lonely. Flirtations were inevitable. Discreet dalliances were not scorned. Be it Darjeeling, Simla or Ooty extra-marital affairs between married women and men on leave was an open secret and connived at. Men were ‘fairly broadminded and wouldn’t really expect their wives to go up and live in monastic seclusion.’ To even the score the husband left behind would have an occasional fling with one of the young household maids.
Spirits lifted as the weather got cooler. There was romance in the air in anticipation of the arrival of the fishing fleet. Life for the young women became a whirl, ‘a tea dance or a dance or a ball or a dinner party’, something or the other every day. Winter tours and life in camps were something to be looked forward to. Women accompanied husbands on portions of these tours. For the couple it became a kind of honeymoon and also took care of the seven years’ itch in men. These tours allowed two widely separated cultures to meet in friendship and affection. Being a part of India’s rural landscape was romance in itself.
 Notwithstanding Curzon and his ilk frowning on miscegenation, inter-racial romance and mixed marriages happened with increasing frequency though these did not always have a fairytale ending.  The love stories in the Anglo-Indian romance novels written during the later phase of the Raj were symptomatic of British fantasies of colonial India and served as a forum to explore interracial relations as well as experimenting with the femininity of the New Woman. The Far Pavilions by M. M. Kaye is an epic saga set in 1850s India. An Englishman brought up as a Hindu in India is torn between loyalty to the Raj, and love for an Indian princess.  In Caste and Creed F.E. Penny tells us the story of a fair-skinned Eurasian girl just arrived from England. A romance ensues between her and a British District Collector who does not initially realize she is half Indian.  Prejudice, discrimination, marriage and relocation follow. On the other hand in Lilamani  Maud  Diver spins a happy alliance between a British male and an Indian female of matching aristocratic lineage. Bhowani Junction, a novel by John Masters, portrays the Anglo-Indian protagonist, Victoria Jones, as tugged in different directions by three suitors each representing a different ethnic community.
The empire may have been a playground for British men to experiment with a variety of sexual experiences they could not indulge in back home. But it was a two-way traffic. After the Mutiny, Indian princes had been cultivated as close allies of the British. During the princes' visits to Britain, their aristocratic status was given full recognition, and they were admitted to the most exclusive of social circles. The accusation from jealous English men that certain Indian princes enjoyed the sexual favours of white women of all classes is understandable. The smartest peeresses were only too ready to make a fuss with Bikaner and other Indian chiefs. If status and wealth worked like magnet, so did dark skin. When Indian contingents went to England for the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria the great difficulty of the officers was in keeping the white women away from the dark-skinned ‘native’ soldiers.. Victorian morality be damned.
(Sudhir Kumar Jha)
The author is a former Director General of Police, Bihar and a free-lance researcher.








I




Monday, July 16, 2012

English Place Names, published as cover story in the Statesman, Kolkata and Delhi under the title NAME GAME on he

News
Page one
India
World
Editorial
Perspective
Business
Sport
Bengal
Magazine
Sports & Leisure
Career & Campus
Science & Technology
Voices
Lifestyle
Kolkata Plus
Bengal Plus
Unplugged
Viewpoint
North East Page
Orissa Plus
Note Book
N.B & Sikkim Plus
Entertainment
NB Extra
World Focus
The Sunday Statesman Magazine
Crystal Ball
Subscription
Asia News Network


Cover Story: NAME GAME
How the English christened places in India might evoke memories of the Raj, but the circumstances have, nevertheless, become historical legacy that cannot be wished away, says Sudhir Kumar Jha

REMEMBER the faux pas in a recent edition of the Oxford English Dictionary? It said Bangalore — not even Bengaluru — got its name as the locals were Bengalis and spoke Bangla. This was the height of untruth and ignorance, a gaffe not expected from Oxford, but it does explain the myth and confusion prevailing in respect of place names. Places get their names by design or sheer accident. These can be plain, catchy or hilarious, obvious or intriguing, but never without some link to the past. Delving into the genesis of the English names of places in India has been an interesting but challenging exercise. For the sake of euphony, the terms “English” and “British” have been used indiscriminately. These place names evoke memories of the British Raj and, notwithstanding the ongoing attempts at renaming them, the circumstances of their naming have become historical legacy which cannot be wished away.
It is sad that no definitive compilation of these names is available. At the beginning of the last century, two Calcutta-based scholars, KN Dhur of the Imperial Library followed by Lt-Col DG Crawford of the Indian Medical Service, made an attempt to list places named after the British. They consulted the survey maps of districts and also went through Newman’s Indian Bradshaw, Smith’s Students’ Geography of India published in 1882 and Keith Johnston’s Atlas of India published in 1894. Periodicals such as Bengal Past & Present and Saturday Journal also yielded some names. To the information so gathered, the two added their own knowledge based on folklore and hearsay. Their total came to a sizeable number, well over 150, but was far from being exhaustive. These came from the whole of British India which covered not only what are now Pakistan and Bangladesh but also Burma and the Malay Peninsula for most of the 19th century. Were they to include the localities or muhallas of towns, roads and streets, public and private institutions, monuments, gardens and parks, et al, so named, their list would have run into thousands. Bangalore Cantonment would have provided over 100 and Kolkata at least 20.
The Andaman and Nicobar Islands provide over 40 such names. These islands were formally annexed in 1858 and converted into a convict settlement to confine the great number of life-prisoners left after the Sepoy Mutiny. The British gave the numerous names of their Mutiny heroes and members of the Andamans Commission to places in these islands. Several places in the Sunderbans falling in West Bengal and Bangladesh were named after officers of the Indian Navy, Royal Indian Marine, or Bengal Pilot Service. Amitava Ghosh mentions a few in his captivating book, The Hungry Tide.
The one class of Britishers to have left the strongest imprint on the naming of places were the civil servants from the Provincial Civil Service and, later, from the Indian Civil Service, as District Collectors, and some as Lieutenant-Governors. In the days of the East India Company, military officers carried the flag into uncharted territories and laid the foundations of civil administration. New civil stations established by them carried their names, for example Daltonganj and Hunterganj in Jharkhand and Cox’s Bazar in Bangladesh. There are railway stations that were named after the British, be it a railway engineer, priest or civil servant, because there was no village of any importance in the neighbourhood after which these could be named — for example Palmerganj between Gaya and Dehri-on-Sone and Twiningganj between Ara and Buxar. Places were also named after ranks in the British army. We have Captainganj and Colonelganj in Uttar Pradesh and Majorganj in Bihar. Brigade Maidan and Barrackpore in Kolkata and Brigade Road in Bangalore, too, have a British army connection.
While many names famous in Indian history are commemorated in place names, many more of the first importance are not thus distinguished. There does not appear to be any place named after Robert Clive or Warren Hastings, the real founders of the British Empire in India.
It is notable that most English names were given to places in the first 100 years of British rule in India, very few in the second half of the 19th century and hardly any in the 20th. Significantly, though the missionaries carried their work deep into the hills and jungles and made healthcare and education available to tribal settlements, not many places are named after them; they apparently did not try to impose their own or any other foreign names. Nor did the British try to change the names of villages already in existence.
It is not that places were named only after Europeans, though exceptions are few and far between. For example, Achipur near Kolkata, on the banks of the Hooghly river, is named after Yong Atchew, the first Chinese settler in India in modern times. He came to Kolkata around 1780 and enjoyed the patronage of the East India Company as a cultivator of sugarcane.
Exceptions apart, these exotic place names are in two parts. The prefix is English while the suffix is vernacular, invariably Persian-Urdu. By far the commonest, in northern India, is ganj, which means a market. Also common are abad and pur, meaning town. Whereas the Hindi garh has been used at least once, as in Georgegarh, nagar does not appear to have been used at all. In southern India, the suffix used is pet, again denoting a town or market; it has also been used in Marathi as Malcolmpet in Mumbai.
Places were not always consciously baptised with English names. They just evolved as a corruption of vernacular names. Take the case of Bangalore. The British, after defeating Tipoo Sultan and restoring the Raja of Mysore in 1799, obtained the right to station their own troops in the state. They built their cantonment on ceded village land just east of the ancient town and fortress of Bengaluru, which was soon anglicised to Bangalore. English Bazar in West Bengal’s Malda district was originally the Rangreza Bazar, the dyers’ quarter. The first letter was dropped along the way and it became Angreza Bazar, and hence English Bazar. Kidderpur in Kolkata is not named after Colonel Kyd but derives from an older local name, Khettarpur.
Some names got Anglicised, in pronunciation and in spelling, because the British could not pronounce these the local way. Kanpur became Cawnpore and Munger became Monghyr and Danapur Cantonment in Bihar became Dinapore. Likewise, Waris-ali-ganj in Bihar’s Gaya district began to be called Worsleyganj. Grierson market in Madhubani, Bihar, was named after the eponymous linguist, Sir George Abraham Grierson, ICS, who set up the market while he was posted as the SDO of that area. It has been known as Gilesan Market for generations. Bhendi Bazar in Mumbai is a phonetic caricature of “behind the bazaar”.
Given below, by way of illustration, is the etymology of some place names from Bihar and Jharkhand:
Goldinganj: This is a small village on the Chapra-Sonepur road about 12 km east of Chapra, an old district town in north Bihar. The only claim to fame of this otherwise nondescript place is a ring of mystery surrounding its name. It has a railway station catering to the North Eastern Railway and a post office with the postal index No. 841211. The station is spelt “Goldinganj” while the postmark reads “Gultenganj”. Old records reveal there was in fact one Edward Golding after whom the place was in all probability named. He was appointed the Company’s Commercial Agent at Bettiah in 1766 after the local Raja had capitulated to the East India Company’s forces. In 1769, Golding was promoted as the Supervisor (precursor of Collector) of Saran Parganas. His bailiwick covered what are today Chapra, Siwan, Gopalganj, Motihari and Bettiah districts.
Lesliganj: This is an outgrown village, more of a kasba, in Palamu district of what is now Jharkhand. Located about 15 km east of Daltonganj, the district headquarters, on the road to Manatu, it has the usual appurtenances of an administrative outpost — a dak bungalow, a police station and a block development office. It has nothing much to offer except its exotic name. It was founded by, and is named after, Matthew Leslie, Collector of the Ramgarh Hill Tract in the 1780s. As with other East India Company officials of the 18th century, Leslie’s biographical details are extremely difficult to get. His revenue jurisdiction included the whole of what later became Palamu and Hazaribag districts and part of Gaya up to Sherghati. The Cheros had been the rulers of Palamu but their internal feuds afforded the British the opportunity to intervene and eventually assume control. As Leslie had to continually camp in Chero territory, he chose a hamlet that soon became known as Lesliganj, dropping an “e” from his name. It appears that Leslie’s good work as Collector of Ramgarh was taken note of and he was transferred as the Collector and Magistrate of Rungpore district in East Bengal (now Bangladesh), a more prestigious charge.
Daltonganj: Situated on the Koil river, this is the headquarters of Palamu district, now in Jharkhand. It has the usual components of a civil station but nothing else and has been a poor and neglected cousin of the other towns in Chhotanagpur. Though connected by rail and road to the rest of the country, its back-of-beyond location is responsible for its relative isolation. The town is named after Colonel Edward Tuite Dalton who, as the Commissioner of Chhotanagpur, founded a settlement here in 1861 on government land where the headquarters of Palamu subdivision was shifted from Lesliganj the following year. When Palamu was made into a separate district 20 years later, Daltonganj was the obvious choice as the headquarters of the new district.
Dalton was the commissioner of Chhotanagpur during the Sepoy Mutiny and for many years thereafter. He initiated several administrative measures. In 1862, he ordered an outright substitution of Hindi written in the Devnagri or Kaithi script for Urdu in the Persian character as the medium of instruction and for court work throughout his commissionerate. In September 1870, Dalton laid the foundation of a permanent church at Ranchi in the presence of a large and assorted gathering. He is best remembered for his magnum opus, The Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal, published in 1872.
Forbesganj: This is today a subdivisional town of Purnea division in northeastern Bihar. It borders Nepal and is not very far from the Bangladesh border. The checkposts of various government departments notwithstanding, its busy market caters to buyers from both India and Nepal. The main business today is in grains and timber, jute having lost ground to plastic. How did Forbesganj acquire its exotic sounding name? It is named after Alexander J Forbes, an indigo planter and zamindar in Purnea district. His biographical details are not available except that he came out to India in the early part of the 19th century and spent the greater part of his life in Purnea, where he amassed a large fortune, mostly from indigo. One of Forbes’ indigo factories was at Forbesabad, which name was presumably changed to Forbesganj as the place developed into a township with a flourishing market. While on a trip to Calcutta, he died in 1890 at the age of 84, and lies buried at Purnea.
Sandys’ Compound: In the heart of Bhagalpur civil station, there is a large tract of land that is locally referred to as Sandys’ Compound. At one time this whole area formed the compound of the residence of Teignmouth Sandys, who was the Judge of Bhagalpur around the middle of the 19th century. He belonged to the Indian Civil Service, though the nomenclature had not been fashioned till then. He was recruited as a Writer, like many others before and after him. William Tayler of Patna fame was his contemporary. Educated and promising youngsters from England were appointed as Writers, something like probationary Assistant Collectors and Magistrates, and rose to become Supervisors/Collectors if entrusted with revenue functions or as Judges if utilised for judicial work. Sandys belonged to the first batch of Writers nominated in 1826 for the qualifying examination in 1827.
Revelganj: This is an inconspicuous town in Saran district in north Bihar. Situated 12 km west of the district headquarters town of Chapra, it is served by road and rail. Unlike some other places with European names, it is well known that Revelganj was named after Henry Revel. The East India Company posted Revel as the Collector of Customs at Chapra. It may be recalled that at that time, in the absence of satisfactory road and rail transportation, the East India Company carried on the bulk of trade and commerce by the river route. Revel realised the value of having a proper Custom House to earn revenue for the company so he set up one at Godna in 1788. A market grew around it and in no time the place developed as an important river mart. Revel appears to have been resourceful as well as kind-hearted and became a legend in his lifetime for his humanitarian and charitable acts. His memory was held in such repute that his grave was considered a shrine and his name invoked on occasions of calamity and adversity. It stands in front of the Eden bazaar alongside the Chapra-Guthni road. Tarapada Mukherjee, a local zamindar and lawyer, gave the place a facelift and was also instrumental in establishing a municipality in 1876 by combining the twin revenue villages of Godna and Semaria and, as it’s first vice-chairman, had the new township named Revelganj after Henry Revel.
Bakarganj: Not to be confused with Bakerganj in Bangladesh, this lies in the heart of Patna and is named after Robert Barker, an officer in the East India Company’s army. The grant of Diwani to the East India Company in 1765 made the British the virtual rulers of what later became the three provinces of Bengal, Bihar and Orissa. A reorganisation of the East India Company’s army followed. Barker had long served the Company’s Artillery and distinguished himself during the siege of Madras. In the reorganisation, he was to have been made Colonel of the Artillery but had to contend with the place originally slotted for Major Knox of Patna fame. Of the three refashioned brigades, the first was located at Monghyr, the second at Allahabad and the third at Bankipore (Patna) under Barker. The 21st battalion raised by Barker at Bankipur became known as Barker-ki-Paltan just as the 20th battalion raised at Lucknow was called Hussaini-ki-Paltan for having been raised on the day of Muharram. Ironically, Barker-ki-Paltan, after several changes of nomenclature, mutinied at Azamgarh in 1857. Barker rose to become a general and Army Chief and was also knighted. He spent three years at Bankipur (Patna) roughly from 1765 to 1768, that is, until the cantonment was shifted to Danapur. The area around his residence developed as a military bazaar or mandi on the eastern side of Gandhi Maidan and was named Bakarganj after him. It is today an extremely congested commercial-cum-residential locality.
Hunterganj: Contrary to popular thinking, Hunterganj in Chatra district, now in Jharkhand, is not named after the famous educationist and indologist WW Hunter. It derives its name from William Hunter who was the Collector of Ramgarh (spelt Ramghur) Hill Tract in 1794. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Judicature at Fort William had appointed him and other Collectors of the Bengal Presidency Justices of Peace. Hunter’s jurisdiction extended right up to Sherghati in today’s Gaya district. A patch of jungle was cleared to set up his camp during his visits to Sherghati and human habitation slowly grew around it. Soon it was being referred to as Hunterganj and developed as an administrative centre.
McCluskieganj: McCluskieganj is a sad saga of aspirations gone awry. The Anglo-Indians were, generally speaking, a town-bred community without knowledge of agriculture or experience of village life. They were doled out petty appointments in the Railways and Telegraphs departments while their women worked as teachers in convent schools and as stenos in multinational companies. It was becoming difficult to find employment, whether in government departments or in commercial concerns, for the increasing number of Anglo-Indian youth. Having observed their conditions first-hand, the Indian Statutory Commission made a suggestion, with the concurrence of the government of India, that an attempt be made to bring the Eurasians, chiefly the Anglo-Indians, to the land and open up a wider range of self-employment for them. The Anglo-Indians seized upon the idea and was thus born in 1933 The Colonization Society of India Limited, registered as a limited company. On behalf of the company, ET McCluskie, a Calcutta-based Anglo-Indian real estate agent and member of the Bengal Legislative Council, discovered a beautiful spot in the Chhotanagpur forests, 60 km from the district headquarters town of Ranchi. The Society bought 10,000 acres of forest land from the local Maharaja in 1932. Plots were allotted as per the layout plan prepared by McCluskie. In a creditable display of grit and determination to conquer the natural difficulties, they made the clearings, dug wells and planted orchards. It was not long before a large number of sprawling bungalows and cottages situated in the midst of several acres of land came up in these sylvan surroundings. The new colony became home to nearly 300 Anglo-Indian and domiciled European families. McCluskie died soon after and, as a fitting tribute to this pioneer, the new settlers named the place McCluskieganj, the putative Tel-Aviv of their homeland. Come Independence and, feeling deprived and insecure, there was a mad rush to migrate to Australia, the USA, Canada and the UK. The Society went into liquidation around 1955. Today there is nothing much to see here but a place gone to seed. One can take long walks through the forest, do some bird watching and listen to their chirping. Not more than 35 Anglo-Indian families now live here and fewer are descendents of the original allottees.
There is no dearth of English place names. One only has to be inquisitive. There has been a trend in favour of demolishing English names originally given to a place. We cannot turn the clock back by renaming such places. Naming Calcutta Kolkata has not made the traffic less congested. People still prefer VT to Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus and refer to Connaught Place as CP and not by its new official appellation. Whether we like it or not, these mysterious place names have become a part of our heritage. Dhur and Crawford could not trace the etymology of each and every name they catalogued, leaving enough scope for future probe. Before the trail gets colder, all such names should be collected, collated and a funded research undertaken to record for posterity the circumstances of their naming.

(The author can be contacted at sudhirjhapatna@gmail.com)

A TALE OF TWO JUBILEES


                                                            A TALE OF TWO JUBILEES
.

As the United Kingdom celebrates the Diamond Jubilee of their monarch (Queen Elizabeth II came to the throne in 1952 though her Coronation took place a year later) comparisons from history readily come to mind. The three longest reigning British monarchs – two Elizabeths and one Victoria - have all been remarkable women, Elizabeth’s 45-year rule (1558-1603) is considered one of the most glorious in British history. A secure Church of England was established. The arts flourished. The Queen is said to have attended the first performance of Shakespeare's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'.  She launched the overseas imperial project, notably the East India Company, which laid the foundation of the vast empire over which Queen Victoria was later to preside. For all that excellence she could not make it to her Golden Jubilee.
Queen Elizabeth II had her Silver Jubilee in 1977 and her Golden Jubilee in 2002. However this one is that bit more special as she is only the second British Monarch to celebrate a Diamond Jubilee, the first being her great great grandmother Queen Victoria in 1897. Victoria remains the longest serving British Monarch in history and to beat her reign Queen Elizabeth II needs to remain on the throne for almost four more years. The queen’s mother lived to be 101. Hopefully, the daughter will live longer and beat Victoria’s record.
Compared to the prolonged pageantry of Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations this June weekend party for Elizabeth II may appear a subdued affair and understandably so. Whereas the former was Her Imperial Majesty the latter is plain and simple Her Majesty. As well as being the Queen of England and Wales, Victoria was also the first monarch to use the title Empress of India. Her reign (1837-1901) was marked by a great expansion of the British Empire where the sun never set. These were hugely eventful years, from the abolition of slavery to the Boer War.  Britain was rid of the spectre of Napoleon and the Industrial Revolution was in full swing. Her colonies supplied the raw material and absorbed the finished products making the country rich and prosperous. Her period witnessed significant social and economic change at home. Her strict moral code made her an iconic figure. The term Victorian morality is often used to describe the ethos of the period.
 As per Victoria’s wish the Jubilee was celebrated as a festival of the British Empire. The procession in which the queen participated included troops from each British colony and dependency, together with soldiers sent by Indian princes and chiefs (who were subordinate to Victoria as the Empress of India). The Diamond Jubilee celebration was an occasion marked by great outpourings of affection for the septuagenarian queen, who was by then confined to a wheelchair. Festivities were replicated in all her colonies, titles were bestowed and several existing and new magnificent monuments carried her name. Queen Victoria remains the most commemorated British monarch in history, with statues to her erected throughout the British Empire and several places and magnificent monuments named after her. They are one too many. Victoria Province in Australia, Lake Victoria in Africa and Victoria Terminal railway station in Mumbai are by way of illustration. India celebrated the Jubilee with full gusto and several institutions and magnificent structures were created bearing her name; most of them still survive.
 In the case of Elizabeth II the pull of history has been the other way highlighting the demise of Britain as a great global power. If Victoria had an Empire Elizabeth is the ceremonial head of a democratic Commonwealth of Nations. The 1956 Suez crisis revealed, with humiliating clarity, the limited postwar geopolitical capacity of the United Kingdom. As decolonisation ground on, culminating in the 1997 handover of Hong Kong, the tides of empire came back to these shores. All is not lost though. She continues to be the constitutional monarch of 16 sovereign states (known as the Commonwealth realms)  as well as head of the 54-member Commonwealth of Nations. She is Supreme Governor of the Church of England and, in some of her realms, carries the title Defender of the Faith as part of her full title.
The queen seems to have more than made up for the loss of her territory by enjoying enormous goodwill of her subjects. After a rocky period including the death of Princess Diana in 1997 and Prince Charles’ dalliance with a much older woman, today's royals are resurgent in Britain. A recent poll shows that 80 per cent of Britons want the country to remain a monarchy. No wonder therefore that at all her programmes during the official Jubilee Weekend. people turned out in large numbers despite foul weather and cheered her all the way. The four-day national jubilee holiday from 2nd to 5th June (not at the Queen’s express wish, unlike Victoria) began on Sunday with the Queen indulging in her love of horse racing at the famed Epsom Derby horse race, where she was greeted by enthusiastic, flag-waving crowds. Later the same day she joined a spectacular flotilla of 1,000 boats for a dazzling display of British pageantry on London's River Thames. Music ranging from the national anthem and chiming bells to Bollywood tunes and the famous James Bond theme blared from boats Thousands of people lined the river in an atmosphere, in spite of heavy rain, of enjoyment and excitement. On the long ceremonial sail down the Thames on board the magnificently decorated barge Spirit of Chartwell stood the 86-year old monarch throughout, waving in response... On Monday evening, again, thousands of people stood in the Mall, in front of Buckingham Palace, to listen to the concert in honour of Her Majesty. Such pageantry in the face of groaning economy was lapped up by her subjects rubbishing cynical comments by anti-monarchists and doom-sayers. And this was only the start of a series of national events this summer which have got British pride swelling up to tremendous proportions. Wait for the London Olympics. Did the government decide to host the event with the Diamond Jubilee in mind?
Several nations around the world, for example Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the Caribbean countries are celebrating the Diamond Jubilee of their constitutional monarch. The celebrations include parades, concerts, and community get-together’s on all scales, from small community picnics to enormous events for thousands of people. In Canada a new commemorative medal has been created to mark the 60th anniversary of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II’s accession to the throne as Queen of Canada. During the year of celebrations, 60 000 deserving Canadians will be recognized. In Australia the Perth Mint has released 60 one-kilogram gold coins in honour of Queen Elizabeth II's Diamond Jubilee. The mint is also releasing 600 silver coins. The coins will be Australian legal tender.
Unlike the first Elizabethans the people who exemplify the age of the current monarch may not be defined as poets and adventurers. The modern Elizabethan era will however be remembered for the ethnic, racial and religious transformation of Britain. Elizabeth II has seen Victoria’s empire transformed into Commonwealth and her country remade into a more modern kind of world power, in finance and the arts, democracy and diplomacy. The House of Lords may soon become an elected body. Despite the transformation of culture and class, the erosion of her economy, the end of deference and a distinctive sense of Britishness, the country has maintained a strong sense of national pride and self-belief in which the queen herself is bound up. If the proposal to rename the historic Big Ben in London as the Elizabeth Tower goes through, it will be well deserved.

Dr. Sudhir Kumar Jha
(The author is a former Director General of Police, Bihar and a freelance writer.)







THE OTHER JIM CORBETT

Published in the Statesman, Kolkata and Delhi on 15 July 2012

                                                          THE OTHER JIM CORBETT
Jim Corbett had a lot in common with Verrier Elwin, one of the greatest champions of India’s tribal people, and Sálim Ali, the celebrated ornithologist. They all loved wilderness. The triumvirate championed conserving natural habitats and wildlife, protecting forest communities, reducing human-animal conflict and promoting eco-friendly practices decades before these issues entered the public domain. The first wildlife reserve of India, extending over an area of more than 500 sq km in the Himalayan foothills, in the state of Uttaranchal, was rechristened Jim Corbett National Park in 1956 in honour of the legendary hunter-turned- conservationist.
Jim Corbett's stories of his hunt of man-eaters, mostly self narrated, are established classics and have thrilled generations of young and old. His Man-eaters of Kumaon has undergone several reprints.  For his daring and hunting skills he became a legend in his life time. But to typecast him as a man with a hunting rifle does not do justice to his persona which was far more encompassing. His compassion and charitable disposition, his close bond with nature and his philosophy behind killing the carnivores need to be understood and highlighted. His bread and butter did not come from hunting but from a totally unrelated activity.
Born a Postmaster’s son at Nainital Jim Corbett (25 July 1875–19 April 1955) spent his growing up summers at Gurni House in the lower reaches of Nainital and winters at Kaladhungi in the tarai jungles of Kumaon. This made him passionate about the flora and fauna around him. With his older brother Tom as his teacher he became adept at training a gun at his target quite early on. For many years hunting to him remained a mere sport. Years later, a shikar party led by him downed hundreds of water fowls in a lake. The sight of this mindless carnage shocked him. The revulsion he felt resulted in a change of heart, not unlike Ashoka after the Kalinga war. Thereafter he developed a philosophical attitude to hunting. He realized that the tiger, or leopard for that matter, was lord of the jungle and must have its dues. The villagers could not plead their losses in cattle and goats. The carnivore at all events was immune, unless it was killing human beings, not by chance or in anger but because it sought them as food. Only when it turned into a Man-eater would Corbett agree to kill it.  These marauders had become such a terror in Kumaon and Garhwal region and so many human lives had been lost to them that he could not shirk his obligation to eliminate them. Shooting had to be effective so that the animal did not suffer needless agony. Corbett shot several man-eaters and people looked upon him as their savior.
Jim Corbett was born into a large but not a rich family. He went straight from school to take up a job as a Fuel Inspector with the railway. For a year and a half he lived in the forest cutting five hundred thousand cubic feet of timber, to be used as fuel in locomotives. After the trees had been felled and billeted, each billet not more and not less than thirty-six inches long, the fuel was carted ten miles (sixteen kilometers) to the nearest point of the railway, where it was stacked and measured and then loaded into fuel trains and taken to the stations where it was needed. Suddenly he found that his services would no longer be required, for the locomotives had been converted to coal-burning and no more wood fuel would be needed.
Feeling dejected he proceeded to Samastipur in North Bihar to render account to the Head of the Department he had been working for. The journey lasted for thirty-six hours with the train stopping for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He had all but given up hope when out of the blue came orders posting him to Mokameh Ghat in Bihar as Trans-shipment Inspector on enhanced pay. That he was also to take over the labour contract for handling goods came as a bonus. More than  half a million tons of traffic were ferried across river Ganges every year, and had to be transshipped from one gauge of rails to another, meter gauge north of the Ganges and broad gauge to the south. Now of course there is a long bridge spanning the river and it is broad gauge all the way.
Back then the condi­tions of work were exceptionally arduous, and that Corbett carried it on for over twenty years was due not only to his power of physical endurance, but to his friendly personal contacts with the large force of Indian labour which he employed as contractor. They gave an unmistakable proof of their own feelings for him during the First World War when he had taken the Kumaon Labour Corps to France. It was then that his Indian subordinates at Mokameh Ghat arranged with the labourers that they would together carry on the work on his behalf throughout his absence which was until the end of the war.
Once when labourers could not be paid on time and were facing starvation Corbett too missed his meal or subsisted on a single chapati. The story of Lalajee has made it into school text books. Lalajee was once a prosperous grain merchant who became penniless after being cheated by his partner. Without any hope in life, he took the train, got off at Mokameh Ghat stricken with cholera, went to the bank of the Ganges waiting to die. Corbett carried him to his bungalow and nursed him back to health.  He later sent Lalajee away with a pep talk and four hundred and fifty rupees, which in 1898 was Corbett’s salary for 3 months, to start a new life of hope. Budhu’s story is not much different. He was forced to work as a slave by a greedy landowner, because his grandfather had borrowed one rupee from him. The amount with interest had now climbed to several hundred, and with the help of a lawyer, Corbett paid the landowner, and released Budhu. He called Budhu in his office, gave the papers of his release. He took out a match and asked Budhu to hold the paper while he set it on fire. ’’Don’t burn these papers sahib’’ Budhu pleaded ’’I am your slave now’’. Corbett told him that he was nobody’s slave, but a free man.
Corbett’s ambivalence towards Sultana Daku, India’s notorious bandit who operated in and around Kumaon, was typical of the man. Initially he helped the U.P. police officer Freddy Young in trailing the dacoit. When he found out that Sultana was not a mere bandit but a Robin Hood who robbed the rich to help the poor, he developed a soft corner for him. He felt sorry when Sultana was eventually captured and condemned the authorities who publicly humiliated him before being hanged.
 His book My Story, which is more in the nature of autobiography, informs us about his life at Mokameh Ghat, as also before and after. The reader cannot remain unimpressed by his saint like benevolence and genuine concern for Indians he befriended without any reservation. Whether it was ridding Kumaon villagers of man-eaters or providing elementary medical care he was always there for them, even rushing from his work place at Mokameh Ghat on receipt of an urgent telegram. He bought vast stretches of land, built houses and gave them to the poor, paid taxes on them, helped them to create orchards in the property and making it a model village. Today the entire area is known as Corbett Walk and is a tourist attraction. It begins on the Ayarpatta hill which is where almost all the houses Jim Corbett owned are located and on the Deopatta, where most buildings identified with Corbett still exist.
 Age was catching up with him and he was not keeping too well. He resigned and left Mokameh Ghat in 1920. For the next twenty-four years he served as an elected member of the Nainital Municipal Board.  He canalized his fascination for jungle life to the study of flora and fauna. Camera replaced the rifle. He relocated to Kenya in 1947. It could not have been an easy decision for him to make. He loved Kumaon as much as people adored him. But Kenya could at all events minister to his passion for photographing wild life, and he was able to indulge it to the full until his death. He left behind armloads of rare photographs some of which had been taken at grave personal risk.

Dr. Sudhir Kumar Jha
(The author is a former Director General of Police, Bihar and a freelance writer.)

    

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

WAKE UP CALL FOR BRITISH POLICE

WAKE UP CALL FOR BRITISH POLICE

The Tottenham riots (early August) took the British police by surprise. They fumbled initially for apparent lack of contingency plans. They lost more face when the trouble engulfed not only the city of London but much of the British urban landscape (surprising why these. did not spread to Scotland, Wales and North Ireland) exposing lack of coordination among the different city police forces. The London Bobby has long been viewed as a role model for police forces the world over and the Scotland Yard as icon among the detective agencies. Post-riots tongues started wagging that foreign police agencies might think twice before turning to London for advice on public order. There was a tongue-in-cheek suggestion that Prime Minister David Cameron might be calling in experts from New York and Los Angeles police on tackling gangs.
Whatever might have been felt and said in the heat of the moment one should not be too harsh in judging the police. The Metropolitan Police had been headless for some time denying the police the benefit of a centralised command. Not having been exposed to a serious riot since the Broadwater Farm riots 26 years ago they seem to have forgotten their riot drill. They were grossly under equipped and under strength They rose to the occasion like one man once the reinforcements came with sufficient riot gear. The London cops, with their strength gone up from 6000 to 16000, effected 1700 arrests; of the 700 charged two-thirds were remanded to custody. Within hours they were tried and those found guilty were sentenced. (Contrast this with India where there is virtually no conviction following a major riot.) Going by a media poll, despite the initial setback the public (at least the majority of the whites) continue to view their police as professionally competent, fair and impartial. In their view the riots were the outcome of the skewed policies of the government over a period of time.
Britain has been a divided society for the last few decades and the hiatus is only growing. The country has had a problem with its youth, a generation that is functionally illiterate, unemployable, demotivated and criminalised from early childhood, stuck in a vicious cycle of generational poverty. They have no jobs, no prospects, and no future except living on dole in dwellings built out of public money. Hate and anger had been building up over a period of time. The super rich bankers in the Square Mile and the rioters next door in Hackney may be next door neighbours but there is little in common between them besides their fondness for the same gizmos. Walking down the trashed streets one found the items looted were electronics, designer clothes, phones, perfumes, cosmetics and jewellery. It is therefore being said that the riots were a consumerist uprising of the have-nots against the haves.
The native white population has reason to feel threatened by the size and relative prosperity of the non-white immigrant communities. Police will have to remain on guard against the rise of right (white) extremism of the kind that was responsible for the Norway carnage last month. According to his own admission the suspect in the Norwegian attacks, Anders Behring Breivik was only trying to draw attention to the imminent danger of ‘black’ immigrants engulfing the whites if the tide was not arrested.
Leave aside the government police too failed to read the writing on the wall. When the society was static the beat constable knew his charge by name and face. He bore on his person nothing more than a truncheon, more as a symbol of authority than as a weapon of assault. If police was unarmed, so was the criminal and so the cycle went. Law and order problems were few and far between. Lately police have largely abandoned visits to racially sensitive areas. Any law enforcement in these areas is treated with a simmering resentment which quickly erupts into violence. The easy option for the police has been to designate them as "no-go areas", effectively abandoning the silent majority to a life of misery under the threat of violence and crime. Cuts to policing are evident in the mere fact that visible, proactive patrols don't exist any more.
It is time for police to introspect and to answer a few questions. Was there enough provocation to open fire at Tottenham? It looks like not having had to handle anything so serious for a long time police had become complacent. Fire power was used where other methods such as parleying, baton charge, water cannon and tear smoke might have done the job. Police have to answer the charge of intelligence failure and not having a contingency plan ready. Why did they not activate their ‘sleeper cells’? The deteriorating socio-economic scenario and the near total alienation of the youth were bound to result in an outburst sooner than later. Police failed to feel their pulse. Once the trouble started there was obvious lack of coordination between the police forces of different cities. Why could the conflagration not be prevented from spreading to other cities? If the looters could coordinate their actions through Facebook, Tweeter and other social network sites the police could also have responded in kind and intercepted or jammed them? Perhaps they could not under the law. After all, United Kingdom prides herself on being a free, liberal society.
What complicated matter for police was that the victim in Tottenham was an Asian immigrant. Police, nearly all white, have not been able to shake off allegations of racial prejudice. Considering the large immigrant segment of British population a fresh dose of sensitization is called for. The United States is trying to deal with this problem by inducting a sizeable number of Afro-Americans in their police force.
Having lambasted the autocratic regimes in the Arab world all these years for human rights violation spy glasses are constantly turned on UK for any signs of similar transgression. With the sword of human rights violation hanging over their head British police law enforcement has become lax. In coming years law enforcement without compromising on human rights is going to pose a challenge for them.
The British police are still one of the best in the world. Let them treat the riots as a wake up call, fine tune their strategy and tactics, and take stock of what they have and what they need. Equally or more so, government must take note of the changed environment. With latent hostility at home and international terrorism staring country in the face days of the unarmed beat constable have to end. Police need latest equipment and gadgetry, mobility and, most of all, manifold increase in numbers. Policing, proactive as well as reactive, is going to cost the exchequer a packet, budget cut or no budget cut, and there is no running away from it.

(Dr. Sudhir Kumar Jha)
(The author is a former Director General of Police, Bihar)