Born 23 January 1897 - Presumed Dead on 18 August 1945
‘..It is our duty to pay for our liberty with our own blood. The freedom that we shall win through our sacrifice and exertions, we shall be able to preserve with our own strength.... Freedom is not given, it is taken.. One individual may die for an idea; but that idea will, after his death, incarnate itself in a thousand lives. That is how the wheel of evolution moves on and the ideas and dreams of one nation are bequeathed to the next......' Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose'
"...Subhash Chandra Bose's life was a beacon to me, lighting up the path I should follow. His disciplined life and his total commitment and dedication to the cause of his country's freedom deeply impressed me and served as my guiding light..." Velupillai Pirabakaran, 'How I Became a Freedom Fighter', April 1994
To Delhi! to Delhi! - Speech at a military review of the Indian National Army, 5 July 1943
Soldiers of India's Army of Liberation!
Today is the proudest day of my life. Today it has pleased Providence to give me the unique privilege and honour of announcing to the whole world that India's Army of Liberation has come into being. This army has now been drawn up in military formation on the battlefield of Singapore, which was once the bulwark of the British Empire.
This is not only the Army that will emancipate India from the British yoke, it is also the Army that will hereafter create the future national army of Free India. Every Indian must feel proud that this Army, his own Army, has been organized entirely under Indian leadership and that when the historic moment arrives, under Indian leadership it will go to battle.
There are people who thought at one time that the Empire on which the sun did not set was an everlasting empire. No such thought ever troubled me. History had taught me that every empire has its inevitable decline and collapse. Moreover I had seen with my own eyes, cities and fortresses that were once the bulwarks but which became the graveyards of by-gone empires. Standing today on the graveyard of the British empire, even a child is convinced that the all mighty British empire is already a thing of the past.
When France declared war on Germany in 1939 and the campaign began, there was but one cry which rose from the lips of German soldiers--"To Paris, To Paris !" When the Brave soldiers of Nippon set out on their march in December 1941 there was but one cry which rose from their lips-"To Singapore. to Singapore !" Comrades ! Soldiers ! Let your battle-cry be-"To-Delhi To Delhi ! " How many of us will individually survive this war of freedom, I do not know. But I do know this, that we shall ultimately win and our task will not end until our surviving heroes hold the victory parade on another graveyard of the British empire, the Lal Kila or Red Fortress of ancient Delhi.
Throughout my public career, I have always felt that though India is otherwise ripe for independence in every way, she has lacked one thing, namely an army of liberation. George Washington of America could fight and win freedom, because he had his army. Garibaldi could liberate Italy, because he had his armed volunteers behind him. It is your privilege and honour to be the first to come forward and organize India's national army. By doing so, you have removed the last obstacle in our path to freedom. Be happy and proud that you are the pioneers, the vanguard, in such a noble cause.
Let me remind you that you have a two-fold task to perform. With the force of arms and at the cost of your blood you will have to win liberty. Then, when India is free, you will have to organize the permanent army of Free India, whose task it will be to preserve our liberty for all time. We must build up our national defence on such an unshakable foundation that never again in our history shall we lose our freedom.
As soldiers, you will always have to cherish and live up to the three-ideals of faithfulness, duty and sacrifice. Soldiers who always remain faithful to their nation, who are always prepared to sacrifice their lives, are invincible. If you, too, want to be invincible, engrave these three ideals in the innermost core of your hearts.
A true soldier needs both military and spiritual training. You must, all of you, so train yourselves and your comrades that every soldier will have unbounded confidence in himself, will be conscious of being immensely superior to the enemy, will be fearless of death, and will have sufficient initiative to act on his own in any critical situation should the need arise. During the course of the present war, you have seen with your own eyes what wonders scientific training, coupled with courage, fearlessness and dynamism, can achieve. Learn all that you can from this example, and build up for Mother India an absolutely first-class modern army.
To those of you who are officers, I should like to say that your responsibility is a heavy one. Though the responsibility of an officer in every army in this world is indeed great, it is far greater in your case. Because of our political enslavement, we have no tradition like that of Mukden, Port Arthur or Sedan to inspire us. We have to unlearn some of the things that the British taught us and we have to learn much that they did not teach. Nevertheless. I am confident that you will rise to the occasion and fulfil the task that your countrymen have thrown on your brave soldiers. Remember always that officers can make or unmake an army. Remember, too, that the British have suffered defeats on so many fronts largely because of worthless officers. And remember also that out of your ranks will be born the future General Staff of the Army of Free India.
To all of you I should like to say that in the course of this war you will have to acquire the experience and achieve the success which alone can build up a national tradition for our Army. An army that has no tradition of courage, fearlessness and invincibility cannot hold its own in a struggle with a powerful enemy.
Comrades ! You have voluntarily accepted a mission that is the noblest that the human mind can conceive of. For the fulfilment of such a mission no sacrifice is too great, not even the sacrifice of one's life. You are today the custodians of India's national honour and the embodiment of India's hopes and aspirations. So conduct yourself that your countrymen may bless you and posterity may be proud of you.
I have said that today is the proudest day of my life. For an enslaved people, there can be no greater pride, no higher honour, than to be the first soldier in the army of liberation. But this honour carries with it a corresponding responsibility and I am deeply conscious of it. I assure you that I shall be with you in darkness and in sunshine, in sorrow and in joy, in suffering and in victory. For the present, I can offer you nothing except hunger, thirst, privation, forced marches and death. But if you follow me in life and in death, as I am confident you will, I shall lead you to victory and freedom. It does not matter who among us will live to see India free. It is enough that India shall be free and that we shall give our all to make her free. May God now bless our Army and grant us victory in the coming fight !
Inquilab Zindabad ! Azad Hind Zindabad !
Excerpts from Mihir Bose's enthralling "The lost hero : a biography of Subhas Bose "
Introduction
The story of Indian independence is well known. Even its heroes are firmly established – Mohandas Gandhi, the saintly demagogue, and Jawaharlal Nehru, his rationalist, Fabian acolyte. A national-liberation movement that relied not on guns and bullets but on non-violent love and inner strength; a method used to such effect that even as the conqueror struggled against it he came to admire it.
Lately, too, another hero has emerged to make the legend complete: Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas Mountbatten, Admiral of the Fleet, Earl of Burma. He arrives in India as Viceroy in March 1947; he produces a plan for partition of India that politicians who have spent their lives opposing the very idea instantly accept. By August 1947 India is free; and when, two weeks after Independence Day, Nehru and Patel urgently summon him with the confession that they don't know enough about administration, he goes on to save the newly independent country.
In the face of such compelling myths, history must come a poor, unwanted second. Yet the history of India's struggle for freedom was not quite that simple. A frail old vegetarian, a Fabian socialist and a dashing young royal did not between themselves produce the India that emerged on 15 August 1947. The story is altogether more complicated, and even more romantic. There were other men and women, as well as deeper interactions of political, social and economic movements. Prominent among these men was one who opposed Gandhi, was a bitter rival of Nehru and waged war against Mountbatten. This is his story, and that of the alternative, violent, revolutionary struggle for Indian independence – one that often paralleled the non-violent one and occasionally threatened to overwhelm it.
The man, of course, was Subhas Chandra Bose. Today in India he is deified. His name is given to parks, roads, buildings, sports stadiums, artificial lakes; his statues stand in place of those of discarded British heroes and his photograph adorns thousands of calendars and millions of pan (betel-nut) shops. It is always the same picture – Bose in military uniform exhorting his countrymen forward to one last glorious struggle: the final answer to the British calumny that Indians could not fight.
Bose is important on many counts. He was in some ways the most Indian of the great nationalist leaders: religious, full of Indian mysticism and devoted to the ancient Indian loyalties of the land, the river, the soil. Yet, curiously, he was also very Western. As a student in Calcutta and London he had imbibed deeply the Western tradition of rationalism. Hegel's thesis–antithesis–synthesis was a constant source of reference, Bergson's elan vital was always a prod for endeavour; and, in the traditions of Western secularism, religion for him was a private, personal thing: a little prayer corner in his room – very often the prison cell; a well-thumbed Gita (the Hindu Bible); a few quiet hours in a reformist Hindu mission.
His mysticism was confined to his letters and discussions with his friend, confessor and companion Dilip Roy. These are at times difficult to understand and even more difficult to interpret in Western terms. Bose in public life, however, was always clear and practical – perhaps, at times, obsessively so. Gandhi shrouded his politics in concepts and myths that even the most devout Hindu found difficult to follow, while Nehru's political utterances were hedged with his own doubts and personal vacillation. In an age overflowing with consensus politicians, Bose should have been hailed as the outstanding example of the politician with convictions. A man who preferred his deeply felt nationalism to the easy, luxurious life of an Indian civil servant; a revolutionary who genuinely sought a radical transformation of Indian society. Yet these are the very qualities condemned both by the Indians who fought him and by the Raj he fought.
For the post-Raj Indian Establishment, Bose is inconvenient since he will not allow their story of Gandhi working the magic of non-violence to come to its triumphant conclusion. This view is best expressed by Kripalani, the last of the major Gandhians still alive: Satyagraha [non-violent protest] was Gandhiji's unique concept and he alone knew how to use it. Whenever he challenged the British Government we followed – Bose was just one of the people in the [Congress] Working Committee.' Some of the anti-Gandhi nationalists are happy to seize and enlarge on the consequences of Bose's actions; to acknowledge the man himself would raise too many questions.
For the Raj and its followers, Bose is simply the ultimate pariah: `repellent character', 'arrogant', 'narrow nationalist', 'renegade', `traitor', 'dictator' – the hate list is almost infinite. Even those prepared to come to terms with his personality and achievement seem to fall back exhausted in a conclusive, pitiful parable of the Occidental failing to understand a scrutable Oriental.
His Bengali origins have possibly heightened this distaste. Bengal was the first province to fall to the British, the Bengalis the first to realise the usefulness of adapting to their new rulers. Yet, in both rulers and the ruled, this resulted only in hate and scorn. The early British scorned the Bengalis for the ease with which they had allowed Clive and his East India Company men to conquer them, the later imperial Raj ridiculed their efforts to imbibe English culture and education. In the eighteenth century Luke Scrafton could write of the Bengalis as a 'slightly made people' with 'dejected minds' that 'fall an easy prey to every invader': by the time Kipling arrived the Bengali babu proudly flaunting his 'B.A. failed', and claiming acquaintance with Shakespeare, was a finely honed figure of Raj fun. No other great empire – not the Roman, or even the Russian – has been so horrified at the thought of cultural proselytisation.
Malcolm Muggeridge has suggested that Arabs have always had a great appeal for a certain type of upper-class Englishman; partly, perhaps, because they are given to sodomy – a favourite pursuit at English boarding-schools – but in any case because they have a seeming simplicity of character and directness of manner which, in the days of the British Raj and the Palestine Mandate, contrasted agreeably with the deviousness of the Indian Hindus and the Israeli Jews. Even allowing for Muggeridge's characteristic reference to sodomy, a certain latent anti-semitism did co-exist with promotion of Muslims and virulent Hindu-baiting.
Quite soon after the Raj had been established, Indians were divided between, on the one hand, the ugly, deceitful Bengalis who, finding the Raj's liberal education inadequate, created the first nationalist movement; and, on the other, the good Indians: the tall, upright, uncomplicated, martial races of the north, who were credited with manliness and a certain Indian version of public-schoolboy comradeship and trust. Some of this reflected the fact that the north Indians had given the British a tough time as they tried to conquer India.
Conveniently, they were also conservative – even obscurantist – and hostile to progressive Western ideas. This suited the Raj's purpose admirably. Certainly, this 'two - Indias' theory was very much a part of the currency of abuse the Raj would increasingly hurl against the nationalists: the nationalists were only an alien-educated elite who did not understand their own countrymen; the Raj and its officials were the true heirs to the Moghul Empire (and other Indian empires) and best understood the oppressed millions of Indians. Bose, as part of a new generation of Indians who challenged this remarkable interpretation of history, could not but be an object of special hatred.
V. S . Naipaul has written that the Raj was 'an expression of the English involvement with themselves rather than this with the country they ruled': pointing not to the good or evil of British rule in India but to its failure. Various writers have sought to explain this failure between two peoples of tragically dissimilar temperaments: perhaps most perceptively – certainly most entertainingly – Nirad Chaudhuri, in many ways the most original writer on the Raj. It can also be seen as a story of unrequited love, as in the case of Lord Curzon. Today, liberal-humanist Indians reaching beyond the debates of the imperial age recognise that he was the last of the truly great Viceroys. In the early part of this century Curzon's decision to partition Bengal sparked the first nationalist agitation in India. But, when he punished a British regiment for beating a native cook to death, almost the entire British community in India turned against him: Curzon had violated the fundamental law of the British in India that in any dispute with the Indians, the British must always stay together even if it meant shielding a murderer.
A personal factor also worked against Bose: the lack of worthwhile contacts between Bose and the emerging British establishments. Unlike Gandhi, he did not become a cult figure with a certain Quaker–Theosophical crowd; unlike Nehru, he did not balance Shirley Williams on his knee while discussing the international position of socialists. Apart from a few years at Cambridge and a very brief visit during 1937, the strenuous efforts of the India Office kept him out of Britain. Thus almost all Bose's significant European contacts were with the continentals: Austrians, Germans, Italians. And this only served to confirm the Raj image ofhim as the `ugly Indian'.
A proper study of Bose's revolutionary ethos and the movement he represented, of course, poses a threat to cosy post-imperial assumptions about the decline of the Empire. In this entertaining but essentially ahistorical view, facts have not so much been suppressed – they have been footnoted and ignored. However much Indians do to come to terms with their awful history, the Raj's historians have retreated to a world of fantasy where the far-sighted British statesmen are always shown to be one jump ahead of the latest native move. If there was violence – as there was in Ireland, Kenya, Israel, Cyprus and India – it was all the fault of irresponsible demagogues unable to appreciate the finer points of British statesmanship. The French may have faltered in Algeria, the Americans in Vietnam, but not the British. Bose, 'implacable foe of British rule in India', as the India Office secret note on Bose circulated to British embassies in Europe would put it, challenges this carefully constructed myth – a myth that found wings thus:
On this 15th August 1947 we British . . . bowed our heads in the temple of Rimmon to the treacherous gods of Nationalism and created yet two more intensely national States to flutter the peace of the world – we who serve the cause of Peace, the cause which we know can only be served by breaking down the ancient tribal barriers that keep man from man and set jealous men at each other's throats. Through our weakness we have probably wrought ill for the future . . . we were as wrong in principle to create them as we are now to act as midwife at the birth of yet a new nation, a new form of unrest, the nation of the Jews, a fosterchild which we shall be loth to recognise.
These words, written on Independence Day by Sir Francis Tuker, GOC Eastern Command during the critical period 1946-7 were in part a reflection of the tremendous rage and frustration that Indian Independence produced. Tuker's memoirs are filled with unrelenting bitterness and an almost personal distaste for the Hindus that is quite remarkable. (It mirrored the widespread grief that Indian Independence produced among the British in India.) Even Field-Marshal Claude Auchinleck, Commander-in-Chief in India at that time, was to confess some years before his death that in 1947 he felt near to 'mutiny' and in 'total despair' at the thought of leaving India. The thoughts of lesser officials as they faced up to a life in post-Raj Britain also make sad and at times disturbing reading. Yet to try and explain imperial rule in terms of international peace and goodwill, as Tuker sought to do, represents an extraordinary inversion: the final contradiction of the British imperial ethos.
The British conceded the right of subject countries to nationalism but set an impossible condition: they could not organise against the British. The dichotomy was well expressed by H.R. James, Principal of Calcutta's Presidency College while Bose was a student there (and a man who plays a crucial part in the early story of Subhas). 'One thing that patriotism in Bengal should not do', he warned some students once, 'is to direct the national spirit into an attitude of hostility to British rule. There would be something I should call patricidal in such an attitude.' This attitude remains the most sophisticated and remarkable cover-up for occupation by an alien, superior power. It allowed Linlithgow to mourn the death of a prominent Indian collaborator as the loss of a man of 'wide citizenship', and enabled Lord Lytton in Pundits and Elephants – a memoir of his years as Governor of Bengal – to praise S.N. Mullick for his sacrifice in choosing the 'hard road' of collaboration, with its high salary and all the privileges of office.
In the thirty years since the end of the Raj the James–Lytton doctrine has been re-incarnated into the wider historical lie that there was nothing for the Indians to fight about. The imperial myth can be traced back to the heyday of the Empire. In 1862, Lord Acton in his Essay on Nationality was convinced that, if nationalism and socialism were allowed to go on unchecked, their course would be `marked with material as well as moral ruin, in order that a new invention (the nation state) may prevail over the works of God.' For Acton the empires of Great Britain and Austria–Hungary were the peaks of civilised progress, accommodating inferior races who could be 'raised by living in political union with races intellectually superior.' Nation-states were too diffuse; they could spread the evils of egalitarianism.
This ahistorical reconstruction of imperialism can accommodate Gandhi – after all, he sought to change human beings, to move them with love and kindness. It is useless against the clear, rationally expressed nationalism of Bose. But because Bose has been such a beleaguered figure – both with the Congress Raj and the real Raj –his supporters have, perhaps understandably, gone to the other extreme in magnifying his virtues and completely obscuring his faults. Hero-worship is a natural enough thing and critical acceptance of a leader is rare, yet it is interesting and at times amusing to read accounts given by Bose's supporters: whole events that tend to throw a dubious light on him are completely omitted. The result is copious but poor biography.
For the outstanding point about Bose was that, though as a nationalist he was in many ways far ahead of his time, he could not always over-ride the limitations of nationalism. He could argue brilliantly and with great emotional fervour that Indians should become 'freedom mad'. But he was often slow to recognise – and at times failed to recognise at all – that freedom could only be a means to an end, not an end in itself. His celebrated eclecticism and his constant search for the enemies of Britain, without always checking their credentials, led him to strange pathways and even, at times, dead ends. Not all the ills of India were traceable to the Raj. Bose rejected Marx's penetrating observation that the Raj was an unwitting 'tool of history'. While its very administration was a weapon of oppression, it would also help break open the hermetically sealed Asian village communities; by the time the Raj was over these immemorial village societies could no longer be outside history but would be very much a part of it.
True, Bose could argue that the very nature of the Raj prevented any radical re-structuring of India. But before the great revolt of 1857 there had been reforms – however limited. The sheer funk the revolt produced among the British in India evaporated this evangelical fervour and the sunburnt sahibs soon became the highest Indian caste. This, in turn, allowed the Indian to retreat into a comforting world of fantasy where they could happily conjure up reassuring images of fictitious pre-British greatness.
It is, of course, an old charge against Indians – in fact against all nationalists: their willingness and ability to mix fact with fantasy. This, for a biographer of Bose, presents particular problems. For many of Bose's uncritical supporters the most pressing question is not what Bose said or did, but whether he is still alive. More than thirty-five years after his death, millions of Indians refuse to believe that he died in the plane that crashed in Taiwan on 18 August 1945, three days after Japan's surrender – or that he is dead at all.
No single aspect of Bose's life has been so meticulously investigated as his death, and each investigator has dwelt deeply and lovingly on various inconsistencies. This has resulted in two government commissions of enquiry, a copious flow of distorted, poorly researched books speculating on his whereabouts, and periodic demands that the Indian government summon the intelligence chiefs and secret files of all the major powers – the U.S.A., the U.S.S.R. , China, France and Britain – finally to ascertain what exactly happened to Bose. It has also led to other strange things.
Since 1962 Uttam Chand Malhotra, who sheltered Bose in Kabul as he fled India in 1941, has been perfecting an organisation to welcome him on his return. Malhotra had expected Bose to return in 1962, and on 23 January 1975 he was convinced that his hero had at last come home. This is from the Indian Express of 24 January 1975:
NETAJI RETURN HOAX: CULPRITS BEATEN UP Kanpur, January 23.
Four persons were rescued from an incensed mob and arrested here today after the much heralded reappearance of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose on his 79th birthday turned out to be a hoax.
About one Lakh [100,0001 people had gathered at Phoolbagh following the announcement that `Tulsibaba of Mathia' would appear there at 5 p.m. and reveal himself to be Netaji.
The announcement had been made by 'All India Adhyalmik Subhas Kranti Bahimi', 'Jai Gurudev Prachanak Sangh' and Mr. Uttam Chand Malhotra said to be a one-time associate ofNetaji.
But at the appointed hour, Mr. Malhotra and Tulsibaba were seen driving away from Phoolbagh in a car. This set off a stampede. Thousands surged forward and beat up authors of the hoax on the dais on which Tulsibaba was to appear.
Police moved in and arrested four of the organisers. But the crowd snatched away the President of the Subhas Bahimi, Hiralal Dixit, and started beating him with shoes and other objects. He was again rescued by the police and taken away in an unconscious state—UNI.
When I asked Malhotra what good Bose's return to India would do now in view of the fact that he would be well over eighty (the conversation took place in October, 1977), he replied, 'But he is Krishna (a Hindu god). He could live to be a hundred and fifty. He is immortal.'
This biography is based on the belief– reached after examining all the published and otherwise available evidence – that Subhas Chandra Bose died in Taioku Hospital on the night of 18 August 1945, his body a horribly burnt mass of flesh but his spirit still full of the fire that had been his life.
`Tell my countrymen I fought for India's freedom with my last breath. India will be free, and before long.'
Let us now turn to Cuttack and the closing years of the nineteenth century to see how it all began.
The Strategy
"The time has come when I can openly tell the whole world, including our enemies, as to how it is proposed to bring about national liberation. Indians outside India, particularly Indians in East Asia, are going to organise a fighting force which will be powerful enough to attack the British Army in India. When we do so, a revolution will break out, not only among the civil population at home, but also among the Indian Army which is now standing under the British flag. When the British government is thus attacked from both sides - from inside India and from outside - it will collapse, and the Indian people will then regain their liberty. According to my plan, it is not even necessary to bother about the attitude of the Axis powers towards India. If Indians outside and inside India will do their duty, it is possible for the Indian people to throw the British out of India and liberate 388 millions of their countrymen." - Speech by Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose at a mass rally, Singapore, 9 July 1943
The Alternative Hero of the India's Struggle for Freedom....
It is 23 January 1981, and crowds all over India are celebrating the birthday of Subhas Bose. Politicians who have never known him, and many who fought him when he was alive, garland his statues, invoke his name and urge their audiences to follow his example. More than thirty years after his death Bose has become a myth: the alternative hero of the Indian struggle for freedom. And the banners at these meetings tell their own story. 'Subhas Bose 1897-1981'. Subhas Bose is not dead. One day he will return and rescue India.
The legends and the myths have been a long time in the making, and they express a deeper Indian unease: had he lived and returned to India after the war, he would have shaped a country far more successful than the one wrought by his rivals and successors: an India united, strong and fearless. Bose became a legend in his own lifetime, but his transformation into a myth fit to rank with ancient Hindu classics came after his death, through forces he had himself tried to harness for his cause. They were catalysed through the British decision to hold a symbolic trial of certain I.N.A. men in the Red Fort of Delhi.
The Decision to try the I.N.A....
The end of the war saw the I.N.A. (Indian National Army) scattered all over east Asia and in deep depression. As its personnel were finally shipped back to India they found the country ignorant of their existence and firmly under British control. 'Not a dog barked as they flew us back,' was how one officer recalled the journey home.
But within days of Japan's defeat the British had begun to think about the I.N.A. problem. London had left it for Delhi to decide, but Delhi was deeply divided and had yet to be convinced that Bose was in fact dead. On 24 August, the day the Japanese government announced the death, Wavell recorded in his diary:
'I wonder if the Japanese announcement of Subhas Chandra Bose's death in an air-crash is true, I suspect it very much, it is just what would be given out if he meant to go underground.'
He asked his Home Member, Sir R. F. Mudie, to prepare a note for the trial of Bose and the I.N.A.
Mudie could find nothing even in the extended definition of 'war criminal' that could be said to include Bose. His advisers were deeply worried about the consequences of a trial and the Home Department note he sent to Wavell acknowledged the difficulties of handling Bose. British interrogation of the I.N.A. and the other Indians in east Asia had established that, contrary to their own propaganda, Bose was regarded not as a puppet of the Japanese but as a great hero. He had dealt with the Japanese as an equal and had succeeded in creating India's first national army. Then there was his undoubted prestige and status in India, particularly in Bengal, where he 'ranks little, if anything, below Gandhi as an all-India figure'.
After listing the various measures that could be taken to deal with Bose, the report went on to discuss their drawbacks. Public pressure would not allow him to be hanged in India; the Burma government was unlikely to want to try him there; trials in Singapore or elsewhere would create just as many problems. A quick military execution was a solution, but that could hardly be defended, and the military might read it as a subterfuge to avoid the independence issue which would figure in a civil trial. Imprisoning him would only lead to agitation for his release. The report concluded:
"In many ways the easiest course would be to leave him where he is and not ask for his release. He might, of course, in certain circumstances be welcomed by the Russians. This course would raise fewest immediate political difficulties but the security authorities consider that in certain circumstances his presence in Russia would be so dangerous as to rule it out altogether."
After several investigations, the British had concluded by March 1946 that Bose might still be alive; but there was not much else they could do about it. The 25,000 I.N.A. prisoners being repatriated to India presented very different problems. Senior British Army commanders were convinced that the I.N.A. were traitors, and that, if the integrity and the discipline of the British Indian Army were to be maintained, they should be severely punished. Some would have preferred kangaroo courts and quick executions.
But the higher echelons of the Raj were not entirely convinced that this was the right policy; in any case, it was not possible to execute 25,000 men secretly. A few were executed, but for the great majority a more selective policy was implemented. They were classified into ‘whites’ - those who had joined the I.N.A. with the intention of re-joining the British; ‘greys' - those who had been misled by Bose and the Japanese; and 'blacks'- those who had fervently believed in the cause. The whites were to be restored to their former positions in the army, the greys were to be tried, dismissed and released; only the blacks were to bear the full brunt of British revenge. They were beyond redemption, and Auchinleck was convinced that when their full story emerged the Indian public would be horrified.
The I.N.A. was already housed in camps set up in Delhi's lied Fort, and this, it was decided, would be an excellent place for a trial. The Fort was ideally situated for press and media coverage. On 5 November 1945 the trial of Shah Nawaz Khan, Prem Kumar Salgal and Gurbaksh Singh Dhillon began. Dhillon was charged with murder, Shah Nawaz and Sahgal with abetting murder. All three were charged with 'waging war against His Majesty the King Emperor of India'. The trials lasted till 31 December, and proved to be a sensation - though not in the way Claude Auchinleck wished.
The Trial & the Revolutionary Response of the Indian People....
The war had not brought Indian independence any nearer, and the British mistook the political quiet for approval. But almost nine months after the end of the war, when the British in Delhi held their victory celebrations, the Indians went wild with fury: the old Delhi town hall was partly gutted, Indians dressed in European clothes were attacked, parading troops were booed and the police had to open fire in order to restore order.
The I.N.A. and Bose had created a potentially revolutionary situation: one on which the political parties were eager to build for their own ends - none more so than the Congress.
The Congress had suffered a double defeat during the war: it had gained little through either negotiations or mass struggle, and now it was a case of 'the Congress proposes, the Muslim League disposes’. In these circumstances the Congress soon realised the potential of the fervour behind the I.N.A., and it quickly adopted resolutions both approving of their actions and pledging itself to defend them at the trial.
A party dedicated to non-violence was at last beginning to realise the usefulness of violence.
Even Jinnah urged the government to treat the I.N.A. prisoners with 'leniency'. By now the Indian press - freed from wartime censorship - was full of stories and legends of the I.N.A. and Bose. 'Jai Hind' had replaced all other greetings between Indians, and Bose's photographs - invariably in I.N.A. uniform - now graced a million pan shops.
The defence was led by Bhulabhai Desai, who in the past had been a bitter critic of Bose. By the time of his death, a few months after the trial, he was as great a champion of Netaji as any. The trial became, as Nehru said, a dramatic version of that old contest, England versus India: the legal niceties vanished and even the personalities of defendants were obscured. For Indians it was not only illegal but a slur on Indian nationalism; the victors were disposing of the vanquished in the very place where the latter had planned to hold their victory parade.
Besides, the three accused Shah Nawaz was a Muslim, Sahgal a Hindu and Dhillon a Sikh -represented all the major communities of India. Auchinleck may have hoped that would stress the communal nature of Indian politics - always Britain's strongest point; but for Indians it demonstrated that the I.N.A. was indeed a national army that Bose had indeed succeeded in getting Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs to unite for a common cause.
British commute sentence to avoid mutiny in the British Indian Army
The defence based its argument on the host of precedents, old and new, which supported the right of subject countries to fight for their freedom. But, for all Desai's eloquence, as far as the court-martial was concerned he was arguing a lost cause- one they were incapable of appreciating, let alone accepting. The predictable verdict was that all three of officers were guilty of waging war against the King. Dhillon and Salgal were acquitted of the charge of murder and abetment of murder; Shah Nawaz was found guilty of abetting murder. All three were sentenced to transportation for life, cashiering and forfeiture of arrears of pay and allowances.
However, the British military authorities had become painfully aware of the consequences of the trial. Even before it had opened, I. N. A . days had been organised in various parts of the country. The day the proceedings got under way the police had to open fire on a protesting crowd at Madura in south India.
Then, as the trial proceeded, the Red Fort itself was besieged; more than a hundred were killed or injured by police firing. Between 21 and 26 November Calcutta was strike-bound. In a rare gesture of communal amity, Hindus and Muslims - their trucks flying both Congress and Muslim League flags—jointly took over the city, attacking American and British military establishments and shouting the slogans of freedom and nationalism coined by Bose. Some forty-nine military vehicles were destroyed and ninety-seven damaged, and about 200 military personnel injured: thirty-two Indians lost their lives and 200 were wounded. The violence soon spread along the Gangetic plain to Patna, Allahabad and Benares, and eventually places as far apart as Karachi and Bombay were affected.
Claude Auchinleck was no longer the confident Commander-in-Chief who had ordered the trial, and even as it was proceeding he wrote to the Viceroy expressing his doubts:
"I know from my long experience of Indian troops how hard it is even for the best and most sympathetic British officer to gauge the inner feelings of the Indian soldier, and history supports me in this view. I do not think any senior British officer today knows what is the real feeling among the Indian ranks regarding the 'INA'. I myself feel, from my own instinct largely, but also from the information I have had from various sources, that there is a growing feeling of sympathy for the 'INA' and an increasing tendency to disregard the brutalities committed by some of its members as well as the forswearing by all of them of their original allegiance. It is impossible to apply our standards of ethics to this problem or to shape our policy as we would, had the 'I N A' been of our own race.
Not wishing to be caught napping again, Auchinleck set up a special organisation in his military headquarters 'to find out the real feelings of Indian ranks on this subject'. He also decided that no more I.N.A. personnel would be tried on the major charge of waging war against the King, and that only those who had committed 'acts of gross brutality' would be brought before the courts -at most between twenty and fifty men. Later Mason, joint secretary in the War Department of the government of India, declared that the I. N. A. 's 'patriotic motive would be taken at its face value and its members would be treated as though prisoners of war'.
A week before the trial ended the Viceroy empowered Auchinleck to commute sentences of death or transportation for life, and when, as required, Auchinleck came to confirm the sentences of the three men, he only agreed to the verdict of cashiering and forfeiture of pay: the transportation decision was quashed and, taking into account 'the prevailing circumstances', the men were set free.
I.N.A. accused released & welcomed as heroes
Shah Nawaz, Sahgal and Dhillon were welcomed like the heroes of a conquering army and their tales were carried back to the remotest villages of India to be told, retold and eventually mythologised. For a time the I.N.A. seemed to have become India- even for Gandhi. Now, in his weekly Harijan column, he invariably referred to Bose as 'Netaji', and conceded that
'the hypnotism of the INA has cast its spell upon us. Netaji's name is one to conjure with. His patriotism is second to none (I use the present tense intentionally). His bravery shines through all his actions.'
He, too, believed Netaji was alive.
The British, however, continued with the selective trials, and on 4 February 1946 Captain Abdul Rashid was sentenced to seven years, imprisonment for certain acts of brutality. Rashid was a Muslim, and now the Muslim League came into the picture. For four days between 11 and 14 February the streets of Calcutta Bombay and Delhi witnessed unique political demonstrations in which Hindus and Muslims forgot their differences and came together to fight the I.N.A.'s battles. Four days of strict martial law were required to bring Calcutta back to normal; by then nearly fifty were dead and over five hundred injured.
In January, too, some 5,200 Royal Indian Air Force personnel had gone on strike to protest over their conditions and as an expression of sympathy for the I.N.A. cause. And on 18 February a revolt began on HMS Talwar, a training ship of the Indian navy moored off Bombay. By nightfall on the 20th virtually the whole of the Royal Indian Navy was in open rebellion: seventy eight ships in the various ports of India—Bombay, Karachi, Madras, Vizagapatanan, Calcutta and Cochin, and even in the Andamans - and nearly all the shore establishments had hauled down the Union Jack. Only ten ships and two shore establishments still remained with the British.
Other units of the armed forces were quickly affected. Between 22 and 25 February the R. I. A. F. in Bombay and Madras went on strike and on the 27th Indian soldiers in Jabalpur followed. In Bombay and Karachi, the main naval centres, ratings were able to generate impressive mass support.
In Karachi gun battles had ensued which continued for two days before heavy British reinforcements finally defeated the men. In Bombay there had been what even the British owned Times of India was forced to call 'mass uprising . . . in sympathy with the naval mutiny . . . unparalleled in the city’s history'. The communists and the Congress Left had called for sympathy strikes and over 600,000 workers from the textile mills of Bombay had responded. For almost three days they had fought running, unequal battles with British troops in the streets and lanes of Bombay.
The British had tanks and machine-guns, the workers had improvised weapons and even at times stones from dug-up roads. But for a few days some of Bombay's teeming working class slums had become 'no-go areas', and the British had had to call in white troops to quell the uprising. In the end 270 had died and 1,300 had been injured (the government's official figures were lower: 187 and 1,002).
Attlee quick to understand implications & negotiate 'independence'...
Undoubtedly a revolutionary situation had been created. But now, suddenly, the ratings found there were no leaders. They knew their navy but they had been horribly wrong about the Indian political parties. The naval ratings had virtually given the politicians a whole unit of the British Indian armed forces; they had even started calling it the Indian National Navy. For the politicians, however, this was too alarming a prospect.
Jinnah advised the men to go back and assured them that, if they did so, he would use constitutional means to remedy their complaints of bad food and service conditions. The Congress leaders were plainly frightened by the prospect of leading a revolution; Nehru came to Bombay and deplored the revolt. And as the ratings wondered what might have happened if there had been a leader prepared to lead them - Bose perhaps - the British re-took their ships.
But if the Indian politicians had no use for revolutionary situations, the Labour government had been quick to understand the implications.
On 4 December 1945 Herbert Morrison announced in the House of Commons that a ten-member parliamentary delegation would visit India to study the situation. The five-week visit took place in January and February 1946 and by the end of it nearly all the visiting MPs were convinced that India was in a dangerous state.
The February disturbances convinced Attlee that the imperial tide had at last ebbed. India could be held by force of arms for a few years more, but the cost for a Britain devastated by war would be too high.
The British government announced in February 1946 that a Cabinet mission of three ministers would visit India. That mission, in fact, failed in its purpose, the situation required another intervention by Attlee; it was his speech in the House of Commons on 20 February 1947- when he pledged the British government to transfer power to Indian hands, if necessary as two separate nations, 'not later than June 1948' - that finally led to the emergence of the two nations of India and Pakistan on 15 August 1947.
That such a situation existed in 1945 owed a great deal to Subhas Bose. He did not precisely visualise the extent of the post war turmoil; his wildest dreams could not have matched the fervour the I.N.A. trials produced. But he had told his men in Burma to fraternise with the Indians in the British Indian Army, and till the end he was confident that if Indians kept up their resolve, Britain -in an increasingly hostile post-war world - would have to concede independence.
True, his army did not parade as victors in the Red Fort; but their trial as vanquished had proved that his belief in a revolutionary consciousness that was grounded in a deeper understanding of the Indian people than his enemies credited him with, or even his most fervent friends believed in.
The vision had been genuine: he just did not have the means, while alive, to translate it into a reality. Even Dilip, so sceptical of worldly struggles, recognised that the romance of Subhas' army had finally breached the dyke that separated Indians from the other army maintained to enslave them.
Through 1946 and 1947, as Indian leaders bartered with the British and among themselves to produce a divided India, they appeared to be constantly looking over their shoulders to reassure themselves that Bose's ghost was not like Hamlet's father, turning into flesh and blood. The years of struggle had wearied them, they did not have the stomach for another fight and they were relieved to get what crumbs they could from the imperial table. When the Congress finally accepted the partition plan Nehru had only this consolation to offer for the sudden abandonment of a lifetime's principles:
"But of one thing I am convinced, that ultimately there will be a united and strong India. We have often to go through the valley of the shadow before we reach the sunlit mountain-tops."
It was poor comfort for the holocaust that partition produced, and even today, for many Indians, the sunlit mountain-tops are still obscured by the shadows.
Had Bose returned to India....
Had Bose returned to India after the war he might well have prevented the tragedy. He was not a tired politician ready to accept office under any terms. Although his uncompromising hostility to Jinnah and Pakistan might have led to a civil war, the cost of that could not have been greater than the senseless waste of partition.
Certainly Bose's often repeated warning that the Congress would pay dearly for the acceptance of 'office mentality' was historically acute. It came when in the late thirties the Congress was struggling to cope with the consequences of the 1935 Government of India Act, and the blandishments it offered. In the 1936 elections, the Congress reaped the rewards of nearly two decades of unceasing mass struggle against the British and totally vanquished the Muslim League.
But by 1945, after a decade of negotiations and some power-sharing with the British, the Congress was reduced to the level of the Muslim League; just another group, albeit powerful, seeking the rewards of office. And by placing such faith in the negotiating chamber the Congress had played into the hands of Jinnah, the master lawyer and negotiator. As Bose had foreseen, the Congress had thrown away the trump card of its power - mass struggle - for the dubious delights of the round table.
But could Indians have lived with Bose? An extreme man, he produced extreme reactions: total adulation or permanent rejection. Certainly the India of Bose would have been very different from the India of Nehru. Bose had often said that India needed at least twenty years of iron dictatorial rule, and he would most certainly have rejected the type of parliamentary democracy that has developed. This opens up the whole question of whether it is better for people to have food or to have freedom to change their political rulers every five years. The argument can never be resolved - though, given the recent adulation of the West for China, some of the oldest democracies in the world seem to think food is more important.
Surely Bose's rule would have degenerated into autocracy, like that of Mrs Gandhi between 1975 and 1977? Though the analogy.is not quite accurate (Mrs Gandhi's rule degenerated long before the events of June 1975), for conclusive evidence Bose's critics point to his behaviour in Germany and with the Japanese during the war. In a climate that brooked no dissent and where the leader was always right, he too came to believe that he could do no wrong.
Part of the possible reason for this change of personality - if there was a change - may lie in the fact that at that stage, particularly in south-east Asia, he found himself a king without any worthwhile courtiers. The people who surrounded him there were political innocents, thrust into the wider world by events beyond their control: they could only applaud, never interject. Bose was, as the official Japanese history puts it, 'a bright morning star amidst them'. There is also evidence to suggest that Subhas Bose was not quite the dictator a simple reading of his speeches makes him out to be.
No doubt there was an authoritarian streak in him, but his actions often belied his dictatorial postures. in 1939, as Congress president, he behaved - against Gandhi's wishes - less like an autocrat and more like a negotiator who had won one round and expected to reap some benefit from it. Throughout his political career he was always loyal to colleagues even at the risk of damaging his own chances: hardly the mark of a man of iron.
Almost alone among Indian leaders, Bose offered solutions that were both visionary and practical. Nehru's socialism may have been more rounded; rigorously logical and free of Bose's celebrated eclecticism. But its strain of romanticism divorced it from the realities of India, and the Nehru years resulted, almost inevitably, in a country with the most progressive socialist legislation outside the Soviet bloc which happily allowed the most unbridled capitalism to grow and flourish on a feudal structure that had changed little, if at all, since the British days. The cynicism this produced has bitten so deep that every government since has had to struggle against it and no combination in Indian politics looks likely to counteract the years of wasted opportunities and lost hopes.
This may seem hard, given the undoubted economic progress India has made in the last thirty years. When the British left, India had little or no industrial capacity; now she is the tenth industrial power in the world, exporting machinery to the West and capable of producing her own nuclear weapons. But the rapid industrialisation has been uneven and ill-directed, with the beneficiaries limited to a small, if growing, sector of the country.
Bose had the capacity to inspire total love and dedication, and produce gold from dross. He was hated by many, but those he 'touched' loved him with an almost overpowering sense of completeness. And this, combined with his rigorous, matter-of-fact manner and an instinctive feel for ancient Indian loyalties, might well have produced the revolution that India needed - and still lacks.
The ideological development that Bose sought has never materialised...
Like Turkey's Kemal Ataturk - a man he admired - Bose might well have produced a nation at once new, yet full of old virtues. This is best illustrated in his approach to women: he was not one for making strident feminist statements but, even on that submarine bringing him from Germany to Japan, he was busily telling Abid Hasan of the need to get Indian women to join the I.N.A., and how they would have to abandon their beloved sarees in order to do so. In south Asia he did get many immigrant women to join the I.N.A. - demonstrating that Indian feminism could be happily blended with the exigency of war.
The ideological development that Bose sought has never materialised. Like all national-liberation movements, the independent Congress was a coalition: of business seeking to oust British capital, of rural kulaks confident that native rulers would do more for them than alien ones, of various interest groups and of socialists aware that the Congress was the only party capable of furthering their ideas. Gandhi did suggest that the Congress should disband after independence, but this was clearly impossible: self-interest, if nothing else, ruled it out. Today almost all the major political groups in India- communists, socialists, free-enterprise capitalists, Gandhian socialists - trace their ancestry to the Congress: only the right-wing Hindu Jan Sangh can claim a different parentage.
The absence of ideological development has meant the politics of banter, with interest groups perpetually feuding amongst themselves, extraordinary alliances - as between Marxists and religious obscurantists - and, above all, comical political defections. Once, in a northern state, a single individual's change of support from Congress to opposition parties led to the fall of two state governments in a single day.
The most valid criticism of Bose is related to the nature of the nationalist movement itself. For Bose's faults - and there were many - were inevitable in a nationalist fighting a colonial-imperial power that both fanned nationalism, and denied it legitimate expression. The Raj, as Marx penetratingly observed, did unwittingly bring modern ideas into India - but the nationalist reaction it produced in India was distorted by the British presence.
Pre-British India was seen as a land of milk and honey in which there had been no problems, no caste system and no evils, only Indian harmony and peace. And it is a measure of the failure of Indian nationalism that what in most countries would be dismissed as delicious nonsense is still taken seriously.
Today P.N. Oak, ADC to Major-General Bhonsle of the I.N.A., can claim respectable reviews in Indian papers by writing books asserting that 5,000 years ago India had an empire which included Britain. If the world has not appreciated this, it is, argues Oak, because the relevant chapters of world history have been 'lost'. Bose was aware of India's ills, but he often came close to endorsing the delicious nonsense of pre-British bliss, if only for rhetorical purposes.
Though he bravely maintained his independence from both the Germans and the Japanese - no mean feat - he deliberately avoided the wider implications of their awful philosophies. However, his argument that foreign help was required in order to drive the British out was justified by the events of 1945-6, and has been the bedrock of nearly all successful national-liberation movements since the war. In this, at least, Bose was probably far ahead of his time. In our age, when a national-liberation movement's accepting foreign help from all and sundry is a common fact of life, the idea may seem of no great significance. In the early forties, for a subject non-white race even to think of any such thing was revolutionary indeed.
....'It is our duty,' Bose told his I.N.A., 'to pay for our liberty with our own blood. The freedom that we shall win through our sacrifice and exertions, we shall be able to preserve with our own strength.' ....."
Subhas Chandra Bose, the Indian National Army, and the War of India's Liberation - Ranjan Borra, Journal of Historical Review, no. 3, 4 (Winter 1982)
"..Apart from revisionist historians, it was none other than Lord Clement Atlee himself, the British Prime Minister responsible for conceding independence to India, who gave a shattering blow to the myth sought to be perpetuated by court historians, that Gandhi and his movement had led the country to freedom...The Battles for India's freedom were also being fought against Britain, though indirectly, by Hitler in Europe and Japan in Asia. "
"The arrival of Subhas Chandra Bose in Germany in 1941 (during the turbulent period of World War II) and his anti-British activities in that country in co-operation with the German government, culminated in the formation of an Indian legion.
This marks perhaps the most significant event in the annals of India's fight for independence. This event not only can be regarded as a historical link-up with what Bose himself chose to describe as "The Great Revolution of 1857," and which (in his words) "has been incorrectly called by English historians 'the Sepoy Mutiny,' but which is regarded by the Indian people as the First War of Independence."
It also represents the historical fact that, by that time persuasive methods conducted through a non-violent struggle under the leadership of Gandhi, had failed. An armed assault on the citadel of the British Empire in India was the only alternative left to deliver the country from bondage.
While other leaders of the Indian National Congress fell short of realizing this fact and thus betrayed a lack of pragmatic approach to the turn of world events that provided India with a golden opportunity to strike at the British by a force of arms, Bose rose to the needs of the hour and was quick to seize that opportunity.
While Bose's compatriots in India remained totally wedded to an ideological creed (non-violence), which at that time could only serve the British and postpone the advent of independence, and while their ideological interpretations of the new revolutionary regimes in Europe-again largely influenced by British propaganda-prevented them from even harboring any thought of seeking their alliance and co-operation in the struggle against a common enemy, Subhas Chandra Bose alone had the courage to take the great plunge, thus risking his own life and reputation, solely in the interest and cause of his country. In January 1941, while under both house arrest, and strict British surveillance, he escaped.
After an arduous trek through the rugged terrains of several countries, with an Italian passport under the assumed name of Orlando Mazzota - (in which he was aided by underground revolutionaries and foreign diplomatic agents) -- Bose appeared in Berlin, via Moscow, on 28 March 1941.
Bose was welcome in Germany, although the news of his arrival there was kept a secret for some time for political reasons. The German Foreign Office, which was assigned the primary responsibility of dealing with Bose and taking care of him, had been well informed of the background and political status of the Indian leader through its pre-war Consulate-General at Calcutta and also by its representative in Kabul.
Bose himself, naturally some what impatient for getting into action soon after his arrival in Berlin, submitted a memorandum to the German government on 9 April 1941 which outlined a plan for co-operation between the Axis powers and India.
Among other things, it called for the setting up of a "Free India Government" in Europe, preferably in Berlin; establishment of a Free India broadcasting station calling upon the Indian people to assert their independence and rise up in revolt against the British authorities; underground work in Afghanistan (Kabul) involving independent tribal territories lying between Afghanistan and India and within India itself for fostering and aiding the revolution; provision of finances by Germany in the form of a loan to the Free India government-in-exile; and deployment of German military contingents to smash the British army in India.
In a supplementary memorandum bearing the same date, Bose requested that an early pronouncement be made regarding the freedom of India and the Arab countries.
It is significant to note that the memorandum did not mention the need for formation of an Indian legion. Evidently the idea of recruiting the Indian prisoners of war for the purpose of establishing a nucleus of an Indian national army did not occur to him during his early days in Berlin.
At that time the German government was in the process of formulating its own plan for dealing with Subhas Chandra Bose in the best possible manner.
The Foreign Office felt itself inadequate to discharge this awesome responsibility without referring the whole matter to Hitler. While this issue was being considered at the highest level of the government, Bose's own requests as set forth in the submitted memorandum, made it far too complicated and involved to be resolved at an early date.
There was a long wait for Bose, during which period he often tended to become frustrated. Nevertheless, through several sympathetic officers of the Foreign Office, he continued to press his requests and put forth new ideas.
Finally, after months of waiting and many moments of disappointment often bordering on despair for Bose, Germany agreed to give him unconditional and all-out help.
The two immediate results of this decision were the establishment of a Free India Center and inauguration of a Free India Radio, both beginning their operations in November 1941.
These two organizations played vital and significant roles in projecting Bose's increasing activities in Germany, but a detailed account of their operation lies outside the purview of this paper. It should suffice to say that the German government put at Bose's disposal adequate funds to run these two organizations, and he was allowed complete freedom to run them the way he liked at his own discretion.
In its first official meeting on 2 November 1941, the Free India Center adopted four historical resolutions that would serve as guidelines for the entire movement in subsequent months and years in Europe and Asia.
First, Jai Hind or Victory to India, would be the official form of salutation; secondly, Nobel laureate poet Rabindranath Tagore's famous patriotic song Jana Gana Mona was to be the national anthem for the free India Bose was fighting for; thirdly, in a multi-lingual state like India, the most widely-spoken language, Hindustani, was to be the national language; and fourthly, Subhas Chandra Bose would hereafter be known and addressed as Netaji, the Indian equivalent of the "leader" or the "Führer."
In November 1941, Azad Hind Radio (or the Free India Radio) opened its program with an announcing speech by Netaji himself, which, in fact, was a disclosure of his identity that had been kept officially secret for so long. The radio programs were broadcast in several Indian languages on a regular basis.
During this long period of "hibernation," the period between Netaji's arrival in Berlin and the beginning of operations of the two organizations, it can be reasonably assumed that the idea of forming an Indian legion that could be developed into an Indian Army of Liberation in the West, crossed Bose's mind.
He might even have discussed this matter with his colleagues-the Indian compatriots in Germany who had joined him-as to how best to implement the idea. However, as mentioned earlier, his first memorandum submitted to the German Government did not include any such plan. According to N.G. Ganpuley, who was his associate in Berlin,
Netaji himself, when he left India, could not have, by any stretch of imagination, thought of forming a national army unit outside the country, and therefore he had no definite plans chalked out for its realization. Even while in Berlin, he could not think of it during the first few months of his stay there.
When and how, therefore, did he come to conceive such a plan? Mr. Ganpuley relates an interesting episode in this regard. To quote again from his book:
It was all due to a brain wave of Netaji which started working by a simple incident. He read one day about some half a dozen Indian prisoners-of-war who were brought to Berlin by the Radio Department to listen to the BBC and other stations which sent out their programmes in Hindustani. He saw them there going about, not as free Indians, but as prisoners-of-war. They were brought to the Radio Office every day to listen to and translate the Hindustani programmes, and were sent back to their quarters escorted by a sentry ... After he had a talk with them about war, about their captivity and their present life, his active mind started working... He pondered over it for some time and decided to form a small national military unit ... No sooner was this decision taken by him ... he started negotiating with that section of the German Foreign Office with which he was in constant touch. He put before them his plans for training Indian youths from the prisoners' camps for a national militia.
Although somewhat skeptical and hesitant at the beginning, the German response to the plans was encouraging. It was a time psychologically well-chosen by Netaji.
The allied forces had been defeated on the Continent, and the Wehrmacht was marching ahead successfully in the Soviet Union. It was also a historical coincidence that a large number of British Indian prisoners-ofwar, captured during Rommel's blitzkrieg in North Africa, lay in German hands.
Netaji's first idea was to form small parachute parties to spread propaganda in, and transmit intelligence from, the North-West Frontier in India. The reaction of some selected prisoners who were brought to Berlin from the camp of Lamsdorf in Germany and Cyrenaica was so encouraging that he asked for all Indian prisoners held in North Africa to be brought over to Germany at once.
The Germans complied with this request, and the prisoners began to be concentrated at Annaburg camp near Dresden. The recruitment efforts, however, at the onset met with some opposition from the prisoners, who evidently had misgivings about Netaji's intentions and motivations. In this regard Hugh Toye writes:
When Bose himself visited the camp in December there was still marked hostility. His speech was interrupted, and much of what he had to say went unheard. But private interviews were more encouraging; the men's questions showed interest-what rank would they receive? What credit would be given for Indian Army seniority? How would the Legionary stand in relation to the German soldier? Bose refused to bargain, and some who might have been influential recruits were turned away. On the other hand, many of the men paid him homage as a distinguished Indian, several professed themselves ready to join the Legion unconditionally.
Netaji sought and got agreement from the Germans that the Wehrmacht would train the Indians in the strictest military discipline, and they were to be trained in all branches of infantry in using weapons and motorized units the same way a German formation is trained; the Indian legionaries were not to be mixed up with any of the German formations; that they were not to be sent to any front other than in India for fighting against the British, but would be allowed to fight in self defense at any other place if surprised by any enemy formation; that in all other respects the Legion members would enjoy the same facilities and amenities regarding pay, clothing, food, leave, etc., as a German unit.
By December 1941 all arrangements were complete and the next important task was to persuade men to come forward and form the nucleus. It appeared that the POWs needed to be convinced that there were civilian Indian youth as well, studying, well placed in life and responsible to their families at home, who were ready to give up everything to join the Legion.
Ten of the forty young Indians then residing in Berlin, came forward. They were quickly joined by five POWs who were already in Berlin in connection with the German radio propaganda, and the first group of fifteen people was thus formed.
On 25 December 1941 a meeting of Indian residents in Berlin was called in the office of the Free India Center, to give a send-off to the first fifteen who were to leave the following day for Frankenburg, the first training camp and headquarters for the Legion. The brief ceremony was simple and solemn. Netaji blessed the Legion, the first of its kind in the history of the struggle for Indian independence. He christened it Azad Hind Fauj (Indian National Army). The Indian Army of Liberation in the West thus had a humble and modest birth.
The strength of the Legion grew steadily, as the task of recruitment continued unabated. Once trained to a certain level and discipline, the members of the first batch were assigned the additional responsibility of visiting the Annaberg camp and aiding in the recruitment process. While the Legion was sent to Frankenburg in Saxony, another group was taken to Meseritz in Brandenburg to be trained in tactical warfare. Abid Hasan and N.G. Swamy, the two original recruiters whom Netaji had sent to the Annaberg camp in 1941, had become de-facto foundermembers of the Legion at Frankenburg and the irregular Company at Meseritz respectively.
At Meseritz, the Indians were placed under the command of Hauptmarm Harbig, whose first object was to make them forget that they had been prisoners. There were Tajiks, Uzbeks and Persians as well under training for operational roles similar to that envisaged for the Indians.
In due course the trainees went on to tactical operational training, such as wireless operating, demolitions and riding, and also undertook special mountain and parachute courses. According to Toye, "Morale, discipline and Indo-German relations were excellent, the German officers first-rate."
Netaji visited the camps from time to time and watched progress of the trainees. Since he himself was inclined toward military training and discipline, he followed the German training methods with great interest. It is understood that while in Germany Netaji himself underwent the rigors of such training, although authoritative documents on this subject are yet to be located by this writer.
While in India, he was a member of the University Training Corps at school and commanded the volunteers at an annual session of the Indian National Congress, but he never had a formal military education prior to his arrival in Germany in 1941. As Joyce Lebra writes: "Though Bose was without any previous military experience, he got his training and discipline German-style, along with the soldiers of the Indian Legion."
To him, formation of a legion was more positive, more nationalistic and more gratifying than mere radio propaganda. Unlike his ex-compatriots in the Indian National Congress, including Gandhi, Nehru and Patel, he would rather seek confrontation with the British-with an army-than to work out a compromise with them on a conference table, on the issue of India's freedom.
A firm believer in discipline and organization, nothing perhaps could be more satisfying to him than to see his men being trained by the German Command, with officers of the highest calibre. In four months, the number of trainees rose to three hundred. In another six months a further three hundred were added. By December 1942, exactly a year after the recruitment of the Legion was inaugurated, it attained the strength of four battalions. At the beginning of 1943 the Legion would be 2000 strong, well on its way up to the culminating point of 3500 men. But let us step back to early 1942, almost a year after Netaji's arrival in Berlin.
After the inauguration of the Free India Center, Free India Radio, and the sending of the first fifteen legionaries to the Frankenburg training camp, Netaji's activities in Germany began in full swing. His presence in Germany was not yet officially admitted-he was still being referred to as Signor Orlando Mazzota or His Excellency Mazzota-but he began to be known to more and more people in Berlin. Josef Goebbels wrote in his diary on 1 March:
We have succeeded in prevailing upon the Indian nationalist leader, Bose, to issue an imposing declaration of war against England. It will be published most prominently in the German press and commented upon. In that way we shall now begin our official fight on behalf of India, even though we don't as yet admit it openly.
On 14 March, he remarked of Bose, "He is an excellent worker." The fall of Singapore was a signal for Netaji to broadcast his first official speech over the Free India Radio, repeating his vow to fight British imperialism until the end. This he followed with a declaration of war against England, although at that stage such a pronouncement could only be symbolic. Netaji had not yet obtained an Axis declaration in support of the freedom of India that he pressed for in the supplement of his first memorandum to the German government. That government was of the opinion that the time was not ripe yet for such a declaration and unless a pronouncement of this nature could be supported by military action, it would not be of much value.
Meanwhile, Japan proposed a tripartite declaration on India. Encouraged by this, Bose met Mussolini in Rome on 5 May, and persuaded him to obtain such a declaration in favor of Indian independence. Mussolini telegraphed the Germans, proposing proceeding at once with the declaration. To back his new proposal Mussolini told the Germans that he had urged Bose to set up a "counter-government" and to appear more conspicuously. The German reaction, which still remained guarded, is recorded by Dr. Goebbels in his diary on 11 May:
We don't like this idea very much, since we do not think the time has yet come for such a political manoeuvre. It does appear though that the Japanese are very eager for some such step. However, emigre governments must not live too long in a vacuum. Unless they have some actuality to support them, they only exist in the realm of theory.
Netaji apparently was of the opinion that a tripartite declaration on Indian independence, followed up by a government-in-exile, would give some credibility to his declaration of war on England, push over the brink the imminent revolution in India, and legitimize the Indian legion. However, Hitler held a different view. During an interview at the Führer's field headquarters on 29 May, he told Netaii that a well-equipped army of a few thousand could control millions of unarmed revolutionaries, and there could be no political change in India until an external power knocked at her door. Germany could not yet do this.
To convince Netaji, he took him to a wall map, pointed to the German positions in Russia and to India. The immense distances were yet to be bridged before such a declaration could be made. The world would consider it premature, even coming from him, at this stage. Hitler was perhaps being realistic, but nevertheless it must have come as some sort of disappointment for Netaji.
In July 1942, the Germans suggested that a contingent of the Irregular Company be sent for front-line propaganda against Indian troops at El Alamein; but Rommel, who did not like battlefields turned into proving grounds for Foreign Office ideas, opposed the move. However, at the Lehrregiment manoeuvers in September, and on field exercises in October, the Indian performance won high praise.
By January 1943, it was realized that maintenance of the irregulars as a separate entity was not of much practical use, and the ninety Indian men, (excepting four under N.G. Swamy who were being trained for work within Indiaj were absorbed into the Legion. Since the supply of recruits from the Annaburg camp was fast being depleted, it was decided to hasten the shipment of prisoners of war from Italy.
According to an agreement between Italy and Germany, all Indian POWs were to be sent directly to Germany without being held in Italian camps. But, in the meanwhile, an unforseen impediment stood in the way. A long-time Indian resident in Rome, Iqbal Shedai, formed an Indian unit under the Italians, and began broadcasting from Rome with the aid of a few Indian prisoners.
It is understood that he had conferred with Netaji a few times, but obviously had no intention of co-operating with him. From radio broadcasting, he advanced into forming an Indian military unit, although it was in clear violation of the Italo-German agreement. The unit was named the Centro Militare India, but existed only from April to November 1942.
During its brief period of existence, however, Shedai succeeded in diverting several hundred volunteers to Italian camps, who would normally have gone to Germany. In November the unit was three hundred and fifty strong, having been trained by Italian officers. On 9 November, after the Allied landing in North Africa, it was learnt that the men were being sent to fight in Libya, contrary to Shedai's promises. When they refused to go and mutinied, Shedai refused to intervene. Consequently, the Centro Militare India was disbanded. It was never revived, and thus a barrier that stood in Netaji's way toward recruitment was removed.
In August 1942, the Legion was moved to Koenigsbrueck, a large military training center in Saxony. This had been a regular training ground for the German infantry and motorized units for decades. Here the first contingents paraded before Netaji's eyes in October, and the growth was rapid. However, the rapid expansion of the Legion also posed the problem of finances.
Hitherto, payment to soldiers was being made from the monthly grants to the Free India Center and its office. As the number of Legionaries grew, that source became insufficient. For this problem there could be but one solution: direct payment to the Legion b~ the Germans.
This would mean hereafter that the Legionaries would receive promotions and precedence as soldiers of national socialist Germany, and would become, in fact, a regiment of the German army, while retaining its separate name and distinction. This was agreed upon between Netaji and the German government, necessitating the taking of a formal oath of loyalty to Adolph Hitler on the part of the Legionaries. Describing the ceremony, Hugh Toye writes:
Five hundred Legionaries were assembled. Their German commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Krappe, addressed them, and the oath was administered by German officers to six men at a time. All was done with solemnity, the soldiers touching their officer's sword as they spoke the German words: 'I swear by God this holy oath, that I will obey the leader of the German State and people, Adolph Hitler, as commander of the German Armed Forces, in the fight for freedom of India, in which fight the leader is Subhas Chandra Bose, and that as a brave soldier, I am willing to lay down my life for this oath.' Bose presented to the Legion its standard, a tricolor in the green, white and saffron of the Indian National Congress, superimposed with the figure of a springing tiger in place of the Congress spinning wheel. "Our names," he said, "will be written in gold letters in the history of free India; every martyr in this holy war will have a monument there." It was a brave, colorful show, and for Bose, a moment of pride and emotion. "I shall lead the army," he said, "when we march to India together." The Legionaries looked well in their new uniforms, the silken banner gleaming in their midst; their drill did them credit.
What was Netaji's plan for leading this army to India? When the Germans launched out beyond Stalingrad into Central Asia, the Indian irregulars, trained at Messeritz, would accompany their Tajik and Uzbek counterparts along with the German Troops.
After Uzbekistan and Afghanistan were reached the Indian Company would leap ahead of the German advance to disrupt the British-Indian defenses in northwestern India. Netaji spoke of dropping parachute brigades, calling on the Indian peasantry to assist them. Through radio he issued warnings to British Indian soldiers and police to the effect that unless they assisted the liberation forces they would one day have to answer to the free Indian government for their criminal support of the British.
The effect of the Indian army of liberation marching into India along with the German forces would be such that the entire British Indian Army morale would collapse, coinciding with a revolutionary uprising against the British. The Legion would then be the nucleus of an expanding army of free India.
Netaji's plan, largely dependent on German Military successes in the Soviet Union, undoubtedly had a setback when the Wehrmacht was halted at Stalingrad. After the German retreat from that city, the plan for marching into India from the West had to be abandoned. The tide of war was turning swiftly, calling for devising new strategies on the part of Netaji.
While the German army's second thrust into Russia encountered an unexpected counter-offensive at Stalingrad and thus was forced to turn back, in another part of the world the forces of another Axis partner were forging ahead, nearer and nearer to India.
Japan was achieving spectacular successes in the Far East and was ready to welcome Netaji as the leader of millions of Indians who lived in the countries of East and Southeast Asia. To Netaji, the Japanese attitude was extremely encouraging. Tolo, the Prime Minister, had issued statements in the Diet about Indian freedom early in 1942, and by March there was a Japanese proposal for a tripartite declaration on India.
A small band of Indian National Army legionaires had already been in existence in the Southeast under Japanese patronage, although a few of its leaders, including Mohan Singh, had fallen out with the Japanese. Netaji would have no difficulty in reorganizing and expanding this organization.
He would get the active support of millions of overseas Indians, and the many thousands of British Indian prisoners-of-war would provide him a greater opportunity for recruitment, and for thus organizing a formidable army of liberation that could immediately be deployed in forward positions as the Imperial Japanese Army kept on advancing through the steaming jungles of the Malayan peninsula and Burma. During his meeting with Hitler on 29 May, the Führer had also suggested that in view of the prevalent world situation, Netaji should shift the center of his activities from Germany to the Far East.
Netaji could look back at his two years work in Germany with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Broadcasting, publications and propaganda were all extended. Azad Hind Radio had extended programs in several languages, and reports indicated that they were being listened to with interest in target areas; Azad Hind, a bilingual journal, was being published regularly.
There were other papers for the Legion besides; the Free India Center had attained an acknowledged status in Germany. It was treated as a foreign mission, entitling its members to a higher scale of rations, and exemption from some of the Aliens' regulations. Netaji himself was given a good villa, a car and special rations for entertainment purposes. His personal allowance amounted to about eight hundred pounds a month.
The monthly grant for the Free India Center rose from 1,200 pounds in 1941 to 3,200 pounds in 1944. All these Netaji stipulated as a loan from the German government, to be returned after India gained independence with the Axis assistance. However, the turn of events now demanded his presence in a different theater-of-war.
What would happen to the Legion in Netaji's absence? It was now 3,500 strong, well trained and equipped, ready for action. Netaii consulted with his aides in Berlin. A.C.N. Nambiar, an Indian journalist who had been in Europe for some eighteen years prior to Netaji's arrival in Germany, was his right-hand man. While preparing for his journey to the Asian theater-of-war, Netaji passed on to Nambiar his policy and instructions. As Hugh Toye writes:
There were plans for new branches of the Free India Center, for broadcasting, for Indians to study German police methods, and for the training of Indian seamen and airmen. As for the legion, it must be used actively as soon as possible, the German officers and NCOs must be quickly replaced by Indians, there must be no communalism. Legionaries were to be trained on all the most modern German equipment, including heavy artillery and tanks; Bose would send further instructions as opportunity offered.
A few words must be added regarding the Indo-German cooperation and comradeship during the critical days of World War II when the Legion was formed. None could describe it better than Adalbert Seifriz, who was a German Officer in the training camp of the Legionaries. He writes,
Agreeing to the proposal of Bose was a magnificient concession and consideration shown to the great personality of Bose by the German Government in those critical times when all German efforts were concentrated on the war ... The mutual understanding and respect between Indians and Germans and the increasing contact between them in the interest of the common task made it possible for the Indian Legion to sustain and keep up discipline right up to the German capitulation in 1945. During the period of training and even afterwards the comradeship between Indians and Germans could not be destroyed ... A meeting with Subhas Bose was a special event for the German training staff.-We spent many evenings with him, discussing the future of India. He lives in the minds of the training staff members as an idealistic and fighting personality, never sparing himself in the service of his people and his country ... The most rewarding fact was the real comradeship which grew between Indians and Germans, which proved true in dangerous hours, and exists still today in numerous cases. The Indian Legion was a precious instrument in strengthening and consolidating Indo-German friendship.
A report of Hitler's visit to the Indian Legion headquarters in Dresden was given by Shantaram Vishnu Samanta (one of the Legionaries) during a press interview in India, after his release from an internment camp. According to his statement, Hitler addressed the soldiers of the Legion after Netaji had left for East Asia. He spoke in German and his speech was translated into Hindustani by an interpreter. He said:
You are fortunate having been born in a country of glorious cultural traditions and a colossal manpower. I am impressed by the burning passion with which you and your Netaji seek to liberate your country from foreign domination. Your Netaji's status is even greater than mine. While I am the leader of eighty million Germans, he is the leader of 400 million Indians. In all respects he is a greater leader and a greater general than myself. I salute him, and Germany salutes him. It is the duty of all Indians to accept him as their führer and obey him implicitly. I have no doubt that if you do this, his guidance will lead India very soon to freedom.
A statement by another soldier of the Indian Legion, who remains anonymous, has a somewhat different version. It stated that both Netaji and Hitler took a joint salute of the Indian Legion and a German infantry. In addition to comments cited earlier, Hitler was reported to have made these remarks as well:
German civilians, soldiers and free Indians! I take this opportunity to welcome your acting Führer, Herr Subhas Chandra Bose. He has come here to guide all those free Indians who love their country and are determined to free it from foreign yoke. It is too much for me to dare to give you any instructions or advice because you are sons of a free country, and you would naturally like to obey implicitly the accredited leader of your own land.
However, reports of Hitler's visit and address to the Indian Legionaries are not confirmed from any other source.
Netaji would be leaving Germany on 8 February 1943. On 26 January, "Independence Day for India," there was a great party in Berlin where hundreds of guests drank his health. On 28 January, which was set aside for observance as the "Legion Day" in honor of the Indian Legion, he addressed the Legion for the last time. It is believed that his departure was kept secret from his army.
So, there were no visible emotions among the men; no gesture of a farewell. The impression Netaji was leaving at the Free India Center, was that he was going on a prolonged tour. So there were no signs of any anxiety. Except for a few top-ranking German officers and his closest aides, hardly anybody was aware that within a week-and-a-half he would be embarking on the most perilous journey ever undertaken by man; a submarine voyage through mine-infested waters to the other side of the world. In his absence, Nambiar settled down in his job as his successor and soon gained respect of the Legionaries.
Two months after Netaii's departure, as a result of discussion between the German Army Command and the Free India Center, it was decided to transfer the Legion from Koenigsbrueck to a coastal region in Holland, to involve it in a practical coastal defense training. It was also in accordance with Netaji's Wishes. He had often expressed a desire to give his troops, whenever possible, some training in coastal defense.
After the first battalion was given a hearty send-off, an untoward incident happened within the legion; two companies of the second battalion refused to move. It was soon found out that there were three main reasons for staging this minor rebellion.
Some Legionaries were unhappy that they were not promoted, but their names had to be put on the waiting list; some simply did not want to leave Koenigsbrueck; some were influenced by a rumor that Netaji had abandoned them and had gone off leaving them entirely in German hands, who were now going to use them in the Western Front, instead of sending them to the East to fight for India's liberation.
However, the rebellion was soon quelled after a team of NCOs visited the officials of the Free India Center in Berlin and obtained clarification regarding the rebel Legionaries' grievances.
The team went back to the camp and assured the men that they were not being sent to fight a war but were there purely for practical training purposes according to Netaji's wishes; that the promotions were not being passed up, they would follow in due course; and that Netaji had not abandoned them, and they would be informed about his whereabouts and plans as soon as possible. In pursuance of military discipline, the ringleaders of this act of insubordination were sent to prison camps for a specified period.
The Legion was stationed in the coastal areas of Holland for five months. Afterwards, there was a decision to move it to the coastal area of Bordeaux in France from the mouth of the Girond, opposite the fortification of Foyan to the Bay of Arcachon.
The Legion was taking charge here. The stay in France was utilized to give the Legionaries a thorough training in the weaponry required for the defense of the Atlantic Wall. In the spring of 1944, the first batch of twelve Indians were promoted to officers. Field Marshal Rommel, who took charge of the Atlantic Wall, once visited the area where the Indian contingent was located. Ganpulay writes:
... after having seen the work carried out by the Indians,, he exclaimed: "I am pleasantly surprised to find that in spite of very little training in coastal defense, the work done here is fairly satisfactory." While departing, he said to the Indian soldiers: "I am glad to see you have done good work; I wish you and your leader all the good luck!"
In the spring of 1944, one company of the Legion was sent to North Italy at the request of some officers who were seeking an opportunity to confront the British forces. After the Normandy invasion by the Allied forces in June 1944, the military situation in Europe began to deteriorate. It eventually became so critical that the German High Command decided to order the Indian Legion to return to Germany.
So after about ten months of stay in the coastal region of Lacanau in France, the Indian Legion started its road back. It is to be understood at this point that with the landing of the Allied troops in France and their gradual advance through the French countryside, the French Maquis (underground) guerrillas had become very active, and along with the German troops they made the Legionaries as well the target of their attacks.
After travelling a certain distance, the first battalion of the Legion was temporarily located in the area of Mansle near Poitiers, while the second and the third battalion were stationed in Angouleme and Poitiers respectively. After a rest for ten days in this region, during which period they had to ward off sporadic attacks by the French underground, the Legionaries took to the road once again. In this long march back to Germany, the Legion demonstrated exemplary courage and fortitude, and underwent rigors and hardships of battlefield with equanimity.
At this time, British propaganda was directed to these men which was full of empty promises; some material was dropped from the air, while agents infiltrated into the ranks to persuade the men to desert. The propaganda promised the would-be deserters reinstatement in the British Indian army with full retroactive pay and pension, but the British hypocrisy was once again manifest in the fact that a few of the soldiers who had fallen victim to this bait were shot later by the French publicly in a market place in Poitiers without any trial, along with some German prisoners-of-war.
In following the saga of the Indian Army of Liberation in the West, one has to remember that its fate was indissolubly linked with that of the Axis powers in Europe, especially Germany. The overpowering of the new revolutionary regimes of Europe by forces representing an alliance of capitalism and Marxism was an international tragedy which engulfed the Indian Legion in Europe as well.
During its retreat into Germany, it encountered the enemy forces on several occasions and fought rearguard action with British and French forces, displaying exemplary bravery. The German military training had converted the regiment not only into a highly disciplined body, but a hard-core fighting unit as well.
It is indeed a historical irony that this superb force could not be utilized for the purpose and way its creator and leader, Subhas Chandra Bose, had dreamt of. Nevertheless, the 950th Indian Regiment, as the Legion was officially designated, left its footprints in the battlefields of France and Germany, as their many other gallant comrades of the German Army.
In the fall of 1944 until Christmas, the Indian Legion spent its time in the quiet villages of southern Germany. Between Christmas and the New Year 1945, the unit was ordered to move into the military camp at the garrison town of Heuberg. In the spring of 1945 the Allied forces crossed the Rhine. The Russians entered the East German provinces murdering and plundering cities, townships and villages. Heavy bomber formations began destroying German cities.
Transport systems became completely disorganized and paralyzed. The end was near, and there was no point in remaining in the barracks. The Legion, therefore, left its winter quarters at Heuberg in March 1945, and headed for the Alpine passes. By that time all communications with the Free India Center in Berlin had been cut off. The Legion commanders took decisions independently.
The Legion had already reached the Alpine regions east of Bodensee. However, with the surrender of the German forces on 7 May, all hopes also ended for the Free India Army. While attempting to cross over to Switzerland, the legionaries were overwhelmed by American and French units and were made prisoners. Those who fell into the hands of the French had to suffer very cruel treatment. Several were shot, while others died in prison camps in miserable conditions. The rest were eventually handed over to the British.
Although thus swept into the maelstrom of the Axis disintegration in Europe, Netaji's army of liberation in the west had carved for itself a niche in history; for, indeed, it was a nucleus which would eventually precipitate a much larger fighting force elsewhere.
Inspired by its leader, that force would march into India to set in motion a process that would eventually deliver the country from an alien bondage. One, therefore, must not regard the saga of the Indian National Army in Europe as an isolated event that ended tragically.
While its dream of crossing the Caucasus along with its allies, the German Armed Forces, and entering India from the Northwest, did not materialize in reality, its extension and successor, India's army of liberation in the east, did enter the country from the opposite direction, thus fulfilling the cherished dream of Netaji and his soldiers. Not only that, as we shall see subsequently, but that army made the mightiest contribution toward finally ending an imperialist rule in India.
During his interview with Netaji, Hitler had suggested to him that since it would take at least another one or two years before Germany could gain direct influence in India, and while Japan's influence, in view of its spectacular successes in Southeast Asia, could come in a few months, Bose should negotiate with the Japanese.
The Führer warned Bose against an air journey which could compel him to a forced landing in British territory. He thought Bose was too important a personality to let his life be endangered by such an experiment. Hitler suggested that he could place a German submarine at his disposal which would take him to Bangkok on a journey around the Cape of Good Hope.
However, despite Hitler's suggestions, it is believed that the German Foreign Office showed some reluctance in the matter of Netaji's leaving Germany and going to Japan. Col. Yamamoto Bin, Japanese military attache in Berlin (and a good personal friend of Netaji) along with the Japanese ambassador Lieutenant-General Oshima Hiroshi, had met Netaji as early as October 1941 when the latter expressed hopes for enlisting Japanese aid in his plan for wresting Indian independence. This was the beginning of a series of such meetings.
After the entry of Japan in World War II in December, Netaji was more eager to go as soon as possible to East Asia and fight beside Japan for India's liberation. He reportedly urged Oshima to use his good offices to secure his passage to Asia. It was about at this point that both Oshima and Yamamoto encountered a feeling of reluctance in the matter on the part of the German Foreign Office.
They had the feeling that Germany was not to willing to let Japan lead India to independence. Bose was already a useful ally as an Indian patriot, and his propaganda broadcasts were effective in both India and Britain. The Indian Legion was already having a psychological impact in India and worrying the Allies. For these reasons, "they were guarding Bose like a tiger cub."
In the meantime, Ambassador Oshima had also met with Hitler and explained Bose's plan to him. According to Japanese records,
The Führer readily agreed with Oshima that it was better for Bose to shift his activities to Southeast Asia now that his country's (Japan's) armies had overrun the area. The second problem was whether Bose would get enough support in Tokyo for his activities. On this, Oshima had contacted Tokyo many times but had not received any firm answer. Finally, Tokyo replied to Oshima that in principle it had no objection to Bose's visit to Japan. The third problem was to provide Bose with a safe means of transport to Japan. Communication between Germany and Japan was impossible during those days. Passage by boat was ruled out; and it was decided to use a plane belonging to the Lufthansa Company to airlift Bose from Germany to Japan via the Soviet Union. Tojo (Japanese Prime Minister) objected to this on the grounds that this would amount to a breach of trust with the Soviet Union. An attempt was made by both Yamamoto and Bose to get an Italian plane, but this also did not work. Finally the choice fell on a submarine. Germany agreed to carry Bose up to a certain unknown point in the east and asked that a Japanese submarine be pressed into service thence forward. After a series of exchanges with his government, Oshima finally obtained Tokyo's approval of the plan and communicated it to Bose.
Alexander Werth writes:
An interesting anecdote related to this historic journey may perhaps be mentioned here. Shortly before Bose's departure the Japanese Naval Command raised objections because of an internal Japanese regulation not permitting civilians to travel on a warship in wartime. When Adam von Trott (of the German Foreign Office) received this message by cable from the German Ambassador in Tokyo, he sent the following reply: "Subhas Chandra Bose is by no means a private person, but Commander-in-Chief of the Indian Liberation Army." Thus the bureaucratic interference was overcome.
On 8 February 1943, accompanied by Keppler, Nambiar and Werth, Netaji arrived at the port of Kiel where a German submarine under the command of Werner Musenberg was waiting for him. His would-be sole companion on this perilous voyage, Abid Hasan had travelled separately to Kiel in a special compartment without knowing his destination. Only after commencement of the journey was he to be informed of the itinerary. Netaji was leaving behind his chosen 3,500 soldiers of the Indian Legion, the 950th regiment of the German Army, specially trained and equipped for the task of liberating an India held in bondage by the British. We have already followed the history and fate of the Legion. Now let us turn to the East.
Indian National Army of Liberation in the East
On 15 February 1942, Singapore fell to the Japanese army advancing southward from the Malayan peninsula. Two days later, in an impressive ceremony held at Farrar Park in the heart of the town, Indian troops were handed over to the Japanese as prisoners-of-war by their commanding officer, Colonel Hunt.
Major Fujiwara took them over on behalf of the victorious Japanese, and then announced that he was handing them over to Captain Mohan Singh of the Indian contingents, who should be obeyed by them as their Supreme Commander. Mohan Singh then spoke to the Indian POWs, expressing his intention of raising an Indian national army out of them to fight for India's freedom.
He held a preliminary discussion with some prominent Indians in Malay and Burma in a meeting in Singapore on 9 and 10 March, which was attended by Rashbehari Bose, a veteran Indian revolutionary exile living in Japan for the last quarter of a century. Bose then called a conference in Tokyo, which was held 28-30 March.
The delegates representing several East and Southeast Asian countries present at the conference, decided to form the Indian Independence League to organize an Indian independence movement in East Asia. Bose was recognized as head of the organization.
The conference further resolved that "militay action against the British in India will be taken only by the INA and under Indian command, together with such military, naval and air cooperation and assistance as may be requested from the Japanese by the Council of Action" and further, "after the liberation of India, the framing of the future constitution of India will be left entirely to the representatives of the people of India."
On 15 June 1942, a conference opened in Bangkok with over a hundred delegates of the IIL attending from all over Asia. By the close of the nine-day conference a resolution was unanimously adopted setting forth the policies of the independence movement in East Asia. The III, was proclaimed the organization to work for India's freedom; the Indian National Army was declared the military arm of the movement with Mohan Singh as the Commander-in-chief and Rashbehari Bose was elected president of the Council of Action.
It was further decided that Singapore would be the headquarters of the IIL. Netaji had stated in a message to the conference that his personal experience had convinced him that Japan, Italy and Germany were sworn enemies of British imperialism; yet, independence could come only through the efforts of Indians themselves. India's freedom would mean the rout of British imperialism. The Indian National Army was officially inaugurated in September 1942.
Unfortunately, at this point a distrust began to grow within the Indian group against Rashbehari Bose's leadership. Some thought that having been long associated with Japan, he gave precedence to the Japanese interests over Indian interests. According to Japanese records:
Some even thought that he was just the protege of the Japanese, and that the latter was exploiting Indians for their own ends. Such resentment finally resulted in a revolt of a group of leaders headed by Captain Mohan Singh within the INA in November 1942. As a consequence, Mohan Singh and his associate, Colonel Gill were both arrested by the Japanese and the Indian Army was disbanded. However, in 1943 a new Indian Army was organized, put under the command of Lt. Col. Bhonsle, who held this post until the final dissolution of the army.
Describing the revived INA. Joyce Lebra writes:
On 15 February 1943, the INA was reorganized and former ranks and badges revived. The Director of the Military Bureau, Lieutenant-Colonel Bhonsle, was clearly placed under the authority of the III. to avoid any repetition of IIIANA rivalry. Under Bhonsle was Lt. Col. Shah Nawaz Khan as Chief of General Staff-, Major P.K. Sahgal as Military Secretary; Major Habibur Rahman as commandant of the Officers' Training School; and Lt. Col. A.C. Chatterji, and later Major A.D. Jahangir, as head of enlightenment and culture. Apart from this policy-forming body was the Army itself, under the command of Lt. Col. M.Z. Kiani. This was the organization which held the INA together until the arrival of Subhas Chandra Bose from Berlin, six months later.
In February, the Japanese military officer Iwakuro had called a meeting of about three hundred officers of the INA at Bidadri camp in Singapore and spoke to them about the advisability of joining the army, but with no effect. According to Ghosh, "Later on, in a 'Heart to heart talk' with some officers, it emerged that a large number of officers and men would be willing to continue in the INA on the express condition that Netaji would be coming to Singapore."
The story of Netaji's exploits in Germany and the history of the Indian Legion was known to Indian revolutionaries of the IIL in East Asia for some time now, and they awaited his arrival eagerly. As the first INA wavered, faltered and was finally disbanded, and as its successor merely continued to exist, the need for Netaji's leadership began to be felt more keenly. Mohan Singh had mentioned his name to General Fujiwara as early as 1941. In all conferences the need of his guidance had been emphasized by the delegates.
While Netaji and Abid Hasan continued to push toward the East making a wide sweep out into the Atlantic, by pre-arrangement, a Japanese submarine left Penang Island on 20 April for the tip of Africa, under strict orders not to attack or risk detection. The two submarines had a rendevous four hundred miles south-southwest of Madagascar on 26 April. After sighting each other and confirming their identity, the submarines waited for a day for the sea to become calm.
Then on 28 April, in what was known to be the only known submarine-to-submarine transfer of passengers (in the annals of World War II) in an area dominated by the enemy's air and naval strength, Netaji and Abid Hasan were transhipped into the Japanese submarine via a rubber raft. Travelling across the ocean, the Japanese 1-29 reached Sabang on 6 May, 1943. It was an isolated offshore islet north of Sumatra.
There, Netaji was welcomed by Colonel Yamamoto, who was the head of the Hikari Kikan, the Japanese-Indian liaison group. From Sabang, Netaji and Yamamoto left for Tokyo by plane, stopping en route at Penang, Manila, Saigon and Taiwan.
The plane landed in Tokyo on 16 May. All throughout his submarine voyage from Germany and for about a month after his arrival in Tokyo, Netaji's identity and presence was kept a secret. He was supposed to be a Japanese VIP named Matsuda.
Although he remained incognito during the first few weeks in Japan, Netaji did not waste any time by just waiting. From 17 May onwards, he met Japanese Army and Navy Chiefs-of-Staff, Navy Minister and Foreign Minister in rapid succession. However, he had to wait for nearly three weeks before Japanese PrimeMinister Tojo granted him an interview.
But Tojo was so impressed with Netaji's personality that he offered to meet him again after four days. Two days later, on 16 June, Netaji was invited to visit the Diet (the Japanese Parliament) where Tojo surprised him with his historic declaration on India:
We are indignant about the fact that India is still under the ruthless suppression of Britain and are in full sympathy with her desperate struggle for independence. We are determined to extend every possible assistance to the cause of India's independence. It is our belief that the day is not far off when India will enjoy freedom and prosperity after winning independence.
It was not until 18 June that Tokyo Radio announced Netaji's arrival. The news was reported in the Tokyo press the following day. At this announcement, the atmosphere was electrified overnight. The Axis press and radio stressed the significance of the event.
The INA and the Indian independence movement suddenly assumed far greater importance in the eyes of all. On 19 June, Netaji held a press conference. This was followed by two broadcasts to publicize further his presence in East Asia, and during the course of these he unfolded his plan of action.
As Ghosh describes, Bose's plan stood for the co-ordination of the nationalist forces within India and abroad to make it a gigantic movement powerful enough to overthrow the British rulers of India. The assumption on which Bose seemed to have based his grand scheme was that the internal conditions in India were ripe for a revolt. The no-cooperation movement must turn into an active revolt.
And to quote Netaji's own words during the press conference: "Civil disobedience must develop into armed struggle. And only when the Indian people have received the baptism of fire on a large scale would they be qualified to achieve freedom."[26] Netaji then embarked upon a series of meetings, press conferences. radio broadcasts and lectures in order to explain his immediate task to the people concerned, and the world.
Accompanied by Rashbehari Bose, Netaji arrived at Singapore from Tokyo on 27 June. He was given a tumultuous welcome by the resident Indians and was profusely 'garlanded' wherever he went. His speeches kept the listeners spellbound. By now, a legend had grown around him, and its magic infected his audiences. Addressing representatives of the Indian communities in East Asia on 4 July he said:
Not content with a civil disobedience campaign, Indian people are now morally prepared to employ other means for achieving their liberation. The time has therefore come to pass on to the next stage of our campaign. All organizations whether inside India or outside, must now transform themselves into a disciplined fighting organization under one leadership. The aim and purpose of this organization should be to take up arms against British imperialism when the time is ripe and signal is given.
At a public meeting where Netaji spoke these words, Rashbehari Bose formally handed over to Subhas Chandra Bose the leadership of the III, and command of the INA. The hall was packed to capacity. In his last speech as leader of the movement Rashbehari Bose said:
Friends! This is one of the happiest moments in my life. I have brought you one of the most outstanding personalities of our great Motherland to participate in our campaign. In your presence today, I resign my office as president of the Indian Independence League in East Asia. From now on, Subhas Chandra Bose is your president, your leader in the fight for India's independence, and I am confident that under his leadership, you will march on to battle and to victory.
In that meeting Netaji announced his plan to organize a Provisional Government of Free India.
It will be the task of this provisional government to lead the Indian Revolution to its successful conclusion ... The Provisional Government will have to prepare the Indian people, inside and outside India, for an armed struggle which will be the culmination of all our national efforts since 1883. We have a grim fight ahead of us. In this final march to freedom, you will have to face danger, thirst, privation, forced marches-and death. Only when you pass this test will freedom be yours.
The next day, on 5 July, Netaji took over the command of the Indian National Army, now christened Azad Hind Fauj (Free India Army). Tojo arrived from Manila in time to review the parade of troops standing alongside with Bose. Addressing the soldiers, Netaji said:
Throughout my pubic career, I have always felt that, though India is otherwise ripe for independence in every way, she has lacked one thing, namely, an army of liberation. George Washington of America could fight and win freedom, because he had his army. Garibaldi could liberate Italy because he had his armed volunteers behind him. It is your privilege and honor to be the first to come forward and organize India's national army.
By doing so you have removed the last obstacle in our path to freedom... When France declared war on Germany in 1939 and the campaign began, there was but one cry which rose from the lips of German soldiers- "To Paris! To Paris!" When the brave soldiers of Nippon set out on their march in December 1941, there was but one cry which rose from their lips-"To Singapore! To Singapore!" Comrades! My soldiers! Let your battle-cry be-"To Delhi! To Delhil"
How many of us will individually survive this war of freedom, I do not know. But I do know this, that we shall ultimately win and our task will not end until our surviving heroes hold the victory parade on another graveyard of the British Empire-Lal Kila or the Red Fortress of ancient Delhi.
On 27 July, Netaji left Singapore for a 17-day,tour of the East Asian and Southeast Asian countries. The prime objective of this tour was to enlist moral and monetary support for his movement from other countries, as well as the resident Indian communities. He was given a rousing reception in Rangoon, where he attended the Burmese independence on 1 August; from Rangoon Netaji went to Bangkok and met Thai Prime Minister Pilbulsongram.
He won the moral support of Thailand and tumultuous ovation from the Indian community. He then flew to Saigon and addressed Indians there. Returning to Singapore for a brief rest, he flew to Penang to address a rally of 15,000 Indians. Everywhere, he held his audience spellbound for hours with his superb oratory, and at the conclusion of his speech the people raced to reach the platform and pile up all they had before him-a total of two million dollars.
This scene was repeated over and over in towns and cities all over Southeast Asia, when Netaji stood before thousands of people like a prophet, addressing them for the cause of India's freedom. Merchants, traders, businessmen and women came forward everywhere and donated their wealth and ornaments in abundance, to enable their leader to fulfill his mission. In his plan for total mobilization, Netaji had outlined a grandiose scheme for an army of three million men. However, the immediate target was set at 50,000. The Major part of this number would be from the Indian POWs and the rest from civilian volunteers.
According to Bose's plan there would be three divisions from thirty thousand regulars and another unit of twenty thousand mainly from civilian volunteers. The Japanese authorities informea Netaji at that time that it could provide arms for thirty thousand men only. However, by 1945, it was authoritatively known that the actual strength of the INA rose to not less than 45,000 men.
After completing the task of reorganizing the Indian Independence League and launching preparations for revolutionizing the army, and after conducting a successful campaign to mobilize the support of the Indian communities throughout Southeast Asia-a phase which lasted from July to OctoberNetaji turned toward formation of the Provisional Government of Azad Hind (Free India).
This had to be done before the army could be sent for action in the battlefield. This government was officially proclaimed in Singapore at a mass rally on 21 October 1943 where Netaji was unanimously elected as the Head of the State and The Supreme Commander of the Indian National Army. While taking the oath he said:
In the name of God, I take this sacred oath that to liberate India and the three hundred eighty million of my countrymen, L Subhas Chandra Bose, will continue the sacred war of freedom till the last breath of my life. I shall remain always a servant of India, and to look after the welfare of three hundred eighty million of Indian brothers and sisters shall be for me my highest duty. Even after winning freedom, I will always be prepared to shed even the last drop of my blood for the preservation of India's freedom.
The Provisional Government of Free India had five Ministers with Netaji as the Head of the State, Prime Minister and Minister for War and advisers representing the Indian communities in East Asia.
The first momentous decision which the new government took was its declaration of war on Britain and the United States, which was decided on the night of 22-23 October. Toye writes: "The Cabinet had not been unanimous about the inclusion of the U.S.A. Bose had shown impatience and displeasure- there was never any question then or later of his absolute authority: the Cabinet had no responsibility and could only tender advice.
Recognition of the Provisional Government came quickly from nine countries-the Axis powers and their allies. They were: Japan, Burma, Croatia, Germany, the Philippines, Nanking China, Manchuto, Italy and Siam (Thailand), but for some unknown reasons, Vichy France withheld its recognition. The Japanese Army promised all-out support for the provisional government.
Toward the end of October, Netaji flew to Tokyo again to meet Tojo and to attend the greater East Asia Conference. Since India technically did not fall within this sphere, he attended as an observer. He made an impressive speech at the conference, stressing the creation of a new Asia where all vestiges of colonialism and imperialism would be eliminated.
The Japanese navy had captured the Andaman and Nicober islands in the Bay of Bengal during the early months of war. As a result of Netaji's requests, Prime Minister Tojo announced at the conference that Japan had decided to place the two islands under the jurisdiction of the Provisional Government of Free India, thereby giving it its first sovereignty over a territory.
The ceremonial transfer took place in December, and Netaji named Lieutenant-Colonel Loganathan, an officer in the Medical Services, as the chief commissioner in charge of the civil administration of the islands. Soon thereafter, preparations began for sending the army to the front and moving the provisional government headquarters to Rangoon, in Burma. In the meantime, Netaji announced the formation of a women's brigade within the INA, and named it "Rani of Jhansi Regiment," after the celebrated queen of Jhansi, Laxmibai, who had led her soldiers against the British in an uprising during the First War of Independence in 1857.
Coincidentially, another Laxmi, Lieutenant-Col. Laxmi, was placed in charge of this regiment by Netaji. In November it was agreed between Netaji and the Japanese militay headquarters, that the INA first division and the civil and military headquarters would move to Burma in January 1944.
The Imphal Campaign
The Imphal Campaign, including the battle of Kohima -- the first major town to be captured by the INA inside India -- will perhaps go down as one of the most daring and disastrous campaigns in the annals of world military history. General Mutaguchi, commander of the Japanese forces in North Burma since 1943, had been convinced that Imphal should be attacked.
The objects of such an offensive were to forestall any invasion of Burma in 1944 and to establish the Japanese defenses on the frontier mountains. The idea would be first to overwhelm the British in Arakan, involving all their reserves in battle for Chittagong and the gateway to eastern Bengal.
Then, by April, Kohima and Imphal could be conquered at leisure, without danger of their being reinforced. The monsoon, beginning in May, would postpone operations, and after the rains were over, in the absence of a new British defense posture east of the river Brahmaputra, the entire Assam and East Bengal would lie open to the Indian National Army and the Japanese.
Imphal, the capital of the state of Manipur, lay on a flat, nearly treeless plateau just inside the Indian border. Its elevation was about 3,000 feet, surrounded on all sides by impassable mountains.
The mountain range in the east with 2,000-4,000 foot peaks above the plateau stretches some five hundred miles. To the West and South are the Chin hills of the Arakan range, a formidable stretch of inhospitable terrain.
The jungle surrounding this basin is hostile to human habitation. The northern access to the plain from India and Assam lay through Dimapur and the steep Kohima Road. From Dimapur, a single track railway swept through Assam and Bengal and was an important military objective to both armies.
For the INA the importance of the Imphal campaign was that it was the only major battle in which it would participate with the object of achieving freedom for India. As Salto and Hayashida writes:
The Imphal Operation was the final offensive of the East Asia War, mounted by three Burma-based Japanese divisions, and one INA division. The campaign lasted from 15 March to 9 July 1944. The operation has often been compared to the operation Wacht am Rhein or the Battle of the Bulge, which was the final all-out drive launched by Germany towards Ardennes on the Western Front, from December 1944 to January 1945. Both operations al most succeeded and both are termed "gambles" by historians today. If the German push towards Ardennes was Wacht am Rhein, the Japanese-Indian thrust against Imphal might be called "Wacht am Chindwin" although the official Japanese code-name for the action was most prosaic: Operation "U".
River Chindwin lay across the Indo-Burmese border, and its crossing from the east by an army would signal an invasion of India.
Execution orders for Operation U became operative on 7 January 1944, coinciding with completion of the shifting of the Provisional Government headquarters in Rangoon. In the evening of the same day, Lt. General Masakazy Kawabe, commanding the overall Burma headquarters, held a welcome party in honor of Netaji and his staff officers.
Netaji spoke, and concluded his speech with these words. "My only prayer to the Almighty at this moment is that we may be given the earliest opportunity to pay for our freedom with our own blood.',34 One INA Division, named after Netaji as Subhas Regiment, was readied for action at the front with the Japanese. Toye writes.
... He spent the whole days... with the Subhas Regiment, reviewing, watching it at exercises and on parade, talking to its officers, exerting his magic on it in a way that he had not attempted before. These were his comrades, the men by whose means he would uphold the rights and honour of India. Everything depended on their achievement in battle; they must absorb all his feelings of confidence, feel the whole of his personal force. On 3 February he bade them farewell: "Blood is calling for blood. Arise! We have no time to lose. Take up your arms. There in front of you is the road. our pioneers have built. We shall march along that road. We shall carve our way through enemy's ranks, or, if God wills, we shall die a martyr's death. And in our last sleep we shall kiss the road which will bring our Army to Delhi. The road to Delhi is the road to Freedom. On to Delhi!"
Mutaguchi set 15 March as the D-day for the beginning of the Imphal campaign. The deployment of well over 120,000 troops along the Chindwin river, a front of some 200 kilometers, went on smoothly and undetected by British spies planted in the area. In the meantime, Netaji received some good news. The Arakan offensive, launched on 4 February, had cut off the 7th Indian Division of the British Army in Mayu valley.
Contributing to this success was the reconnaissance and subversion of an Indian outpost position by Major Misra, the INA Commander in Arakan. At the same time, he received messages from the underground network working inside India under his direction, whose selected trained spies had been sent by submarine.
On D-day, Mutaguchi assembled the war correspondents at his headquarters in central Burma and declared: "I am firmly convinced that my three divisions will reduce Imphal in one month. In order that they can march fast, they carry the lightest possible equipment and food enough for three weeks. Ali, they will get everything from the British supplies and dumps. Boys! See you again in Imphal at the celebration of the Emperor's birthday on 29 April."
The Japanese-Indian offensive took the British by complete surprise. The Japanese and INA troops literally galloped through mountains and jungles routing the enemy on the way. Prior to the Imphal offensive, an INA detachment under Colonel Saligal had created a breach through the British lines in the Arakan sector. Now the INA's deployment was extended to the Imphal sector.
As the INA under Netaji's command set foot on the Indian soil, the main Japanese force also defeated the obstinate resistance of the enemy on 22 March, broke through the India-Burma border, and advanced from the north and west to encircle Imphal. The initial success of the INA at the Arakan front generated much enthusiasm. In a Special Order of the Day, Netaji referred to the "Glorious and brilliant actions of the brave forces of the Azad Hind Fauj."
On 8 April, Japanese Imperial Headquarters issued a communique which said: "Japanese troops, fighting side by side with the Indian National Army, captured Kohima early on 6 April.[38] A jubilant Netaji at this time started talking with the Japanese about the administration of the liberated and soon-to-be-liberated territories in India.
In response to a call by Netaji, Prime Minister Tojo made an announcement clarifying that all areas of India occupied as a result of Japanese advance would be placed under the jurisdiction of the Provisional Government. This was followed by Netaji's announcement that he was appointing the Finance Minister of his cabinet, Major-General A.C. Chatterjee, as the governor of the newly liberated areas. Netaji described the march of the INA into India as the event of the century.
He had also just declared the Legion in Europe to be part of the INA and had appointed Nambiar to be a Minister in the Provisional Government; his Chief Commissioner had been installed in the Andamans, his first heroes from the Arakan front had been decorated, and the, INA troops had raised the national standard of free India in Kohima; and now, the fall of Imphal seemed very near.
Did the Imphal Campaign come almost two years too late? What would have happened if Netaji had arrived in East Asia a year earlier? by the end of 1942, the Axis had scored successes everywhere.
Rommel was in Egypt, the German invasion of Russia had gone smoothly, Nationalist China was on her knees, and India and Australia were expecting a Japanese invasion. Prospects for the Allies were dark in the Pacific and the Rising Sun was at its zenith from Japan to the Bay of Bengal ... Britain was unable to dispute with the Japanese Navy, and there were not enough British and Indian troops in India to assure its defense. Even air protection was inadequte ... Japanese forces had not pursued retreating British troops beyond the Chindwin river in Burma in May 1942, allegedly because "an invasion was likely to arouse ill-feelings amongst the Indian masses." ... So the Japanese remained east of the Chindwin river, leaving British Indian forces to build up their strength in the Imphal plain.
But above all, in that moment of a golden opportunity, the towering leadership of Netaji, a provisional government, and an Indian national army worthy of its name -- all these were non-existent in East Asia. Japan by itself simply lacked the motivation for extending war into India, let alone think of its independence. The fact remains, however, that the Imphal campaign was indeed first conceived in 1942, right after the conquest of Burma. According to the official history of the British Armed Forces in the Second World War,
Soon after the completion of the Japanese conquest of Burma in June 1942, a certain Lt. Col. Hayashi had advocated an attack on Imphal. He considered that the Japanese should strike against India without giving time to the defenders to recuperate from their disastrous retreat, and Imphal's capture would rob them of the best base for launching a counter-offensive against Burma ... 18th division argued that the jungles of Burma were impassable for large bodies of operational troops and that any attack on Indian territory would provoke anti-Japanese feelings in India. About December 1942, therefore, the plan was abandoned.
Lieutenant-General Kuroda Shigetoku, Southern Army Chief of Staff, stated later that if the operation had been carried out in 1942 when first conceived, rather than in 1944, it would have succeeded. According to Lebra, "General Tojo stated in the spring of 1945 that he regretted Japan had missed the opportunity in 1942."
As the INA and the Japanese forces continued to lay siege on Imphal, the Allied air superiority gained strength and the enemy was preparing for counterattack. Shah Nawaz, commanding two battalions of the Subhas Regiment in the Chin Hills, told of the hardships his men were suffering as a result of disease and of supply and transport difficulties. However, owing to communication problems, the news of difficulties his men were undergoing at the front did not reach Netaji in detail.
While there was a stalemate in the front and the offensive came to a halt, there were meetings and jubilations at Rangoon where Netaji collected money and donations in other forms for the conduct of his campaign. He offered to send additional INA regiments to the Front and more troops were despatched. For about a month Operation U went according to plan. Enemy forces were successfully encircled in the Imphal area.
Suddenly, in the middle of April, the military balance began to shift against Japan and the INA. Wingate's airborne unit had already been attacking from air over Burma supply routes. British forces were being supplied by airlift into the besieged Imphal, and reinforcements began to flow in. British forces were being sent to Kohima to the north by both rail and air. Japan had no matching air power to strike back at enemy air operations.
By the end of April the battle strength of Japanese and INA divisions was decreased forty percent. Time for success by surprise attack had already passed and gradually the offensive turned into a defensive battle. The monsoon that followed, brought the ultimate disaster.
As roads became impassable, all supply routes were cut off. Muddy streams flooded roads and valleys, and rivers swelled to sweep away tanks and ammunition. In the wake of the monsoon, disease became rampant. Cholera, malaria, dysentery, beriberi and jungle sores began to take their toll.
The INA and the Japanese started living on rations consisting of rice mixed with jungle grass. The 33rd Division had fought desperately for forty days without being able to penetrate the British lines at Imphal. And now that vast amounts of military supplies were reaching the beleaguered garrison at Imphal, there was virtually no hope for a renewed offensive. On 8 July, on the recommendation of top-ranking Generals including Kawabe and Mutaguchi, Prime Minister Tajo issued the order to halt the operation.
The story of retreat from Imphal is one of the greatest tragedies of World War II. It is a story of misery, hunger and death. Japanese and INA troops, bottled up in the Kawab valley between the Chin Hills in the west and the Chindwin river in the west, began their long trek back through jungles and mountains, headed by division commanders and guards in jeeps and horses.
Officers, supply, communication and medical units followed. Behind them marched thousands of stragglers: rain-soaked, emaciated with fever and malnutrition. Soon, corpses began accumulating along the trek, and they had to be left unburied. Of the 220,000 Japanese troops who began the Imphal Campaign, only 130,000 survived, and of these only 70,000 remained at the front to retreat. INA casualties were over fifty percent. It was a disaster equal in magnitude to Dunkirk and Stalingrad. Lebra writes:
When Bose heard the order to retreat he was stunned. He drew himself up and said to Kawabe in ringing tones: "Though the Japanese Army has given up the operation, we will continue it. We will not repent even if the advance of our revolutionary army to attain independence of our homeland is completely defeated. Increase in casualties, cessation of supplies, and famine are not reasons enough to stop marching.
Even if the whole army becomes only spirit we will not stop advancing toward our homeland. This is the spirit of our revolutionary army." In an article in Azad Hind on 6 November 1944, after the retreat from Imphal, Bose was reported to have "reiterated his firm conviction that final victory in this war would belong to Japan and Germany ... that a new phase of war was approaching in which the initiative would again lie in the hands of the Japanese.-"
Each Japanese commander gave his own analysis of the causes of the failure of Operation U, like the problem of the chain of command, lack of air power, on dispersal rather than concentration of forces. However, Netaji thought it was timing, with respect to the monsoon.
He felt that the only chance to take Imphal was before the rains came, and most strategists agreed on this point. From the historic perspective, however, Fujiwara perhaps was the most correct. According to him, the Imphal disaster could have been avoided had the operation been undertaken a year earlier, at a time when the British power in the region was weak.
The delay in launching the Imphal offensive was no doubt due to Netaji's late arrival from Europe to East Asia. The Imphal campaign should have been undertaken at a time when the Axis victories had reached their zenith and the Allied forces were on retreat everywhere.
During the last three months of 1944, Japanese forces had withdrawn to the banks of the Irrawaddy in Burma, where they intended to make a stand. Netaji enthusiastically offered the reorganized INA First Division, when the Japanese 15th division was ordered to oppose the British. Subsquently, the 2nd Division was also readied for action. In February 1945, the INA held some positions in the region of Mandalay in Burma, giving battle to the advancing enemy.
This was the second campaign of Netaji's army, and it held out tenaciously at Nyaungu for some time. However, allied troops later crossed the Irrawaddy at several points and the Japanese and INA units were surrounded. There were some desertions.
Despite unique examples of heroism and Netaji's presence in the battlefields, risking his own life in the face of enemy attacks, the second campaign of the INA (which was purely a defensive one) finally had to give way to the gradual reconquest of Burma by the British.
The end of this campaign was followed by a chain of events that included the final Japanese defeat, an alleged plane crash in Formosa in which Netaji reportedly perished, the surrender of the INA to the allied forces and the trial of their leaders at the Red Fort in Delhi, staged by the British. However, all these fateful events, occurring during the final phase of World War II and its aftermath, should be considered parts of an altogether different episode relating to Subhas Chandra Bose and the Indian National Army.
In the present episode we have examined the historical tasks fulfilled by Netaji and his army in Europe and Asia during World War II, and their significance. In recognition of Netaji's historically significant role as a war leader, Guy Wint pays him a rare tribute with these words: "He played ... an extraordinarily decisive part. By accident, and by seizing an exceptional opportunity, he was able to cut a figure which made him outstanding among the comparatively small number of men who influenced the course of the war by their individual qualities."
The Myth of "Freedom through Non-violence under Gandhi's Leadership"
Modern historians in India are taking a second look at the way the country's freedom was achieved, and in that process are demolishing a number of theories, assumptions and myths preached by the "court historians."
However, in order to grasp the magnitude of the issue, with its many ramifications, it is essential to understand first the concept of freedom as envisaged by Netaji -- the ideal which motivated him to wrest it from the hands of the British by the force of arms.
In his entire political career, Subhas Chandra Bose was guided by two cardinal principles in his quest for his country's emancipation: that there could be no compromise with alien colonialists on the issue, and that on no account would the country be partitioned. The Indian geographical unity was to be maintained at all costs.
As we have already seen, the unfortunate turn of events during World War II prevented Netaji's dream of his victorious march to Delhi at the head of his Indian National Army from becoming a reality.
In his and his army's absence in a post-war India, politicians under the leadership of Gandhi and Nehru did exactly what Netaji never wanted: they negotiated and compromised with the British on the issue of freedom, and in their haste to get into power, agreed to a formula of partitioning India presented to them by the British.
The transfer of power was followed by two more developments that were alien to Netaji's philosophy and his blueprint for a free India: introduction of a parliamentary democratic system by Nehru and his decision to keep India in the British Commonwealth of Nations.
It was a truncated freedom, achieved over the bloodbath of millions who had perished in fratricidal religious rioting during the process of partition, as the erstwhile India emerged on the world map as the two nations of India and Pakistan.
Even so, the fragmented freedom that fell as India's share after the British had skilfully played their age-old game of divide and rule came not as a result of Gandhi's civil disobedience and non-violent movement as the court historians would have us believe; nor was it due to persistent negotiations by Nehru and other Indian National Congress leaders on the conference table, which the British found so easy to keep stalling. The British finally quit when they began to feel the foundations of loyalty being shaken among the British Indian soldiers-the mainstay of the colonial power-as a result of the INA exploits that became known to the world after the cessation of hostilities in East Asia.
Ramesh Chandra Majumdar, the eminent Indian historian who passed away recently, and who by virtue of his challenges to several historical myths can rightly be called the Dean of new historians in India, observed in his book Three Phases of India's Struggle for Freedom:
There is, however, no basis for the claim that the Civil Disobedience Movement directly led to independence. The campaigns of Gandhi ... came to an ignoble end about fourteen years before India achieved independence ... During the First World War the Indian revolutionaries sought to take advantage of German help in the shape of war materials to free the country by armed revolt. But the attempt did not succeed. During the Second World War Subhas Bose followed the same method and created the INA. In spite of brilliant planning and initial success, the violent campaigns of Subhas Bose failed ... The Battles for India's freedom were also being fought against Britain, though indirectly, by Hitler in Europe and Japan in Asia. None of these scored direct success, but few would deny that it was the cumulative effect of all the three that brought freedom to India. In particular, the revelations made by the INA trial, and the reaction it produced in India, made it quite plain to the British, already exhausted by the war, that they could no longer depend upon the loyalty of the seapoys for maintaining their authority in India. This had probably the greatest influence upon their final decision to quit India.[44]
Despite Japan's defeat and the consequent withering away of the Indian National Army on the India-Burma front, both Subhas Chandra Bose and his INA became household names throughout the country as the returning soldiers were sought to be prosecuted by the British. By then, the Congress leadership under Gandhi and Nehru had pre-empted itself, and the year 1945 seemed relatively calm and uneventful. However, Netaji and his legend worked up a movement all over the country which even a Gandhi could never produce. Echoing this mass upsurge Michael Edwardes wrote in his Last Years of British India:
The Government of India had hoped, by prosecuting members of the INA, to reinforce the morale of the Indian army. It succeeded only in creating unease, in making the soldiers feel slightly ashamed that they themselves had supported the British. If Bose and his men had been on the right side-and all India now confirmed that they were-then Indians in the Indian army must have been on the wrong side. It slowly dawned upon the Government of India that the backbone of the British rule, the Indian army, might now no longer be trustworthy. The ghost of Subhas Bose, like Hamlet's father, walked the battlements of the Red Fort (where the INA soldiers were being tried), and his suddenly amplified figure overawed the conference that was to lead to independence.
Apart from revisionist historians, it was none other than Lord Clement Atlee himself, the British Prime Minster responsible for conceding independence to India, who gave a shattering blow to the myth sought to be perpetuated by court historians, that Gandhi and his movement had led the country to freedom. Chief justice P.B. Chakrabarty of Calcutta High Court, who had also served as the acting Governor of West Bengal in India, disclosed the following in a letter addressed to the publisher of Dr. R.C. Majumdar's book A History of Bengal. The Chief Justice wrote:
You have fulfilled a noble task by persuading Dr. Majumdar to write this history of Bengal and publishing it ... In the preface of the book Dr. Majumdar has written that he could not accept the thesis that Indian independence was brought about solely, or predominantly by the non-violent civil disobedience movement of Gandhi. When I was the acting Governor, Lord Atlee, who had given us independence by withdrawing the British rule from India, spent two days in the Governor's palace at Calcutta during his tour of India. At that time I had a prolonged discussion with him regarding the real factors that had led the British to quit India. My direct question to him was that since Gandhi's "Quit India" movement had tapered off quite some time ago and in 1947 no such new compelling situation had arisen that would necessitate a hasty British departure, why did they have to leave? In his reply Atlee cited several reasons, the principal among them being the erosion of loyalty to the British Crown among the Indian army and navy personnel as a result of the military activities of Netaji. Toward the end of our discussion I asked Atlee what was the extent of Gandhi's influence upon the British decision to quit India. Hearing this question, Atlee's lips became twisted in a sarcastic smile as he slowly chewed out the word, "m-i-n-i-m-a-l!"
When the new version of the history of the Twentieth Century India, and especially the episode of the country's unique struggle for independence comes to be written, it will no doubt single out but one person who made the most significant and outstanding contribution among all his compatriots toward the emancipation of his motherland from the shackles of an alien bondage. During World War II this man strode across two continents like a colossus, and the footsteps of his army of liberation reverberated through the forests and plains of Europe and the jungles and mountains of Asia. His armed assaults shook the very foundations of the British Empire. His name was Subhas Chandra Bose.
On the Transfer of Power from Britain to India - from 'The Freedom Struggle and the Dravidian Movement' by P.Ramamurti, Orient Longman, 1987
"We have seen that no non-violent struggle. conducted by Mahatma Gandhi in the course of the freedom struggle had achieved its objective. In 1921, the non-cooperation movement was withdrawn before it was started. In 1930 the Civil Disobedience Movement was withdrawn without achieving its limited objective. In 1932, the Civil Disobedience Movement was suspended at Gandhiji's instance and was never revived. In 1941 individual satyagraha for the right of freedom of speech ended in six months without achieving its aim. The 1942 countrywide struggle for freedom was never started by Gandhiji.
How is it then that the British Government transferred power to the Congress and Muslim League leaders in 1947?
For an answer to this question, one must look into the countrywide upsurge in which military personnel also participated en masse, as anticipated by the communists at the end of the war.
First, there was the trial of the Indian National Army. Consequent to the surrender of Japan, the Government arrested the sepoys of the Indian National Army and started a trial on charges of attempting to overthrow the Government established by Law in the Red Fort at New Delhi.
The Communist Party of India gave a call for countrywide hartals and strikes. The call was responded to in cities, towns and in big villages. In Calcutta the hartals and strikes lasted a week and the people took to the streets demanding the unconditional release of the I.N.A. prisoners. The Government was forced to release them unconditionally.
When Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru set foot in Jammu and Kashmir, he was arrested by the Princely Raj. Immediately the Communist Party called for countrywide protest demonstrations. The Kashmir Government was forced to release him.
Next came the strikes of police personnel in many provinces, supported by the Communist Party. This was followed by strikes in military cantonments all over the country. The Indian soldiers and air force personnel left the barracks, and held massive rallies in nearby towns shouting slogans like `Down with British Government'' `Down with Imperialism' and `Inquilab Zindabad'.
From Kashmir to Travancore, the people of the princely states were fighting to end princely rule. The crowning event of these struggles was the strike by the navymen of the naval ship `Talwar' stationed near Bombay on 19th February 1946. The British Union Jack was removed and in its place the Congress-League and Communist Party's flags fluttered proudly.
The naval ship `Hindustan' was ordered to proceed to Bombay to quell the revolt. On reaching Bombay, the navymen of `Hindustan' refused to fire on their brothers. Then Admiral Godfrey through a radio broadcast ordered the navymen of `Talwar' and `Hindustan' to surrender within 24 hours, failing which, he said, `The entire might of the British Royal Navy would be used to crush the revolt; it does not matter if the entire Indian navy is destroyed in the proces.'
Sardar Patel, on behalf of the Congress, supported Admiral Godfrey and said, `Discipline in the Navy is of utmost importance and the men should obey the orders of the officers without questioning.'
The fighting navymen had formed a struggle committee which appealed to the Congress, Muslim League and the Communist Party to lend their support. The Communist Party appealed to the people all over the country to demonstrate in support of the struggle; demonstrations and strikes took place all over the country. In Karachi, Cochin, Madras, Calcutta and Chittagong, there was complete strike in all naval establishments.
Sardar Patel, on behalf of the Congress, issued an order to the working class of Bombay not to respond to the call of the Communist Party. The people ignored Sardar Patel's call, struck work, observed hartal, demonstrated with the tri-colour flags of the Congress, the green flag of the Muslim League and the red flag of the Communist Party shouting slogans like `Hindus and Muslims Unite; down, down the British Government', `Down with imperialism', `Inquilab Zindabad', etc.
Sardar Patel lamented in a statement that the Congress prestige was sinking. Troops manned by British soldiers were sent to Bombay to quell the demonstrators. They started shooting at unarmed demonstrators indiscriminately. Yet the demonstrations lasted for many days. The official statement of the Central Legislature was that 130 people were killed, which was a conservative estimate. No one knows how many died and how
many were wounded since most of the people were not taken to hospitals.
Gandhiji, who was quiet during the struggle, later issued a statement:
'I can understand if there was unity from top to bottom in this struggle. Only the people at the lower levels were united. This will only lead the country into the hands of the rabble; I would prefer to die in the fire than to live for hundred and twenty five years.'
Four days after the naval revolt started, on the night of the 23rd February 1946, the British Cabinet held an emergency meeting and decided to transfer political power to the Congress and League leaders.
The British Prime Minister Attlee announced the decision the next day in the House of Commons. The former Prime Minister Churchill and his conservative colleagues bitterly opposed the decision. While replying to the debate, Prime Minister Attlee said:
"In the conditions prevailing in India today, old remedies are of no use. It is meaningless to talk about them now. The heat in 1946 is not the same as that of 1920 (non-cooperation movement), 1930 (first civil disobedience movement) or 1942 (when the Quit India resolution was passed). (Emphasis mine.)
"Nothing intensifies the national feelings and aspirations of a colonial people like a great war. Those who have had anything to do with the two wars, know what effect the 1914-18 a world war had on the feelings and aspirations of the Indian people. National waves which rise slowly or are accelerated during wartime. and rise very high after the war. During the war, they are controlled to some extent; but after the war, they break all shackles and rise very high. Today, in India, no, in the whole Asian continent, they are dashing against the stones and, rocks, breaking them to pieces. I have no doubt about it.
"India alone has to decide what its future will be and what its status will be in the world. I hope that India will decide to stay in the Commonwealth. Instead, if it decides to be an independent country, it is our duty to work for peaceful transfer of power in the interim period and make it easy. India has a right to he a sovereign independent country."
Sir Stafford Cripps, intervening in the debate made the position crystal clear. He said:
"...The Indian Army in India is not obeying the British officers. We have recruited our workers for the war; they have been demobilised after the war. They are required to repair the factories damaged by Hitler's bombers. Moreover, they want to join their kith and kin after five and a half years of separation. Their kith and kin also want to join them. In these conditions if we have to rule India for a long time, we have to keep a permanent British army for a long time in a vast country of four hundred millions. We have no such army...."
The countrywide opposition to British rule in which the Indian personnel of the three armies participated, crowned by the naval mutiny, was the direct cause of the decision to transfer power.
The Congress had nothing to do with the entire upsurge. These facts are obscured by Congressmen today. Subsequently, a cabinet mission arrived in India and held talks with both Congress and League leaders. It used the differences between the Congress and the Muslims; Lord Wavel was replaced as Viceroy by Lord Mountbatten, and an interim Government dominated by the Congress and the League was formed.
Riots were engineered between Hindus and Sikhs on the one hand, and Hindus and Muslims on the other. On August 15th, United India was divided into India and Pakistan, and power was tranferred to the Congress in India, and the League in Pakistan. India and Pakistan attained independence in the midst of the worst instance in history of mutual killing by two communities."
INA War Memorial at the Esplanade, Singapore
On 8 July 1945, Bose laid the foundation stone of the INA War Memorial at the Esplanade, Singapore to commemorate the “Unknown Warrior” of the INA. The words inscribed upon the War Memorial were the motto of the INA: Unity (Ittefaq), Faith (Etmad) and Sacrifice (Kurbani). While paying homage to the martyrs of the INA, he said,
“The future generations of Indians who will be born, not as slaves but as free men, because of your colossal sacrifice, will bless your names and proudly proclaim to the world that you, their forbears, fought and suffered reverses in the battle of Manipur, Assam and Burma. But through temporary failure you paved the way to ultimate success and glory.”
When the British returned to Singapore in 1945, Lord Mountbatten, Head of Southeast Asia Command, ordered the INA Memorial to be destroyed.
In 1995, the site where the INA Memorial once stood was marked by the National Heritage Board of Singapore and new memorial was erected - a monument to a monument'.
The inscription in English reads:
In the final months of the Japanese Occupation of Singapore a memorial dedicated to the "Unknown Warrior" of the Indian National Army (INA) was constructed at this site.
The local INA was formed in 1942 with Japanese support. It sought to liberate India from the British and consisted mainly of prisoners of war from the British Indian Army. Subhas Chandra Bose who led the INA from 1943 onwards laid a foundation stone at the monument in July 1945. The Urdu words inscribed on the monument read Unity (Ittefaq), Faith (Etmad) and Sacrifice (Kurbani)
When the British returned to Singapore, they demolished the memorial barely two months after its installation."
The inscription in Tamil is titled: இந்திய தேசியப் படை நினைவுச்சின்னம்
