People's Democracy

Urdu Literature In Context Of The Great Uprising

Naresh ‘Nadeem’

DESPITE the multitude of opinions on the nature of our First War of Independence (1857-58) and the basic causes of its failure, what stands out beyond any reasonable doubt is that it sounded the death knell of the feudal political system in the country. And this turned out to be for the better for the country and its people, and marked the beginning of Indian nationalism. As the late Hiren Mukherjee noted in India’s Struggle for Freedom, India did not remain after 1857 what was before the Great Uprising.

DECADENT FEUDALISM

The decadent nature of Indian feudalism, rather its rottenness, was unmistakably clear much before the Uprising took place. It was, for example, noted by Jafar Zatli, a rebel poet, who was ousted from Aurangzeb’s court, got somewhat insane and was finally strangulated to death by Emperor Farrukhsiyar’s order in the Red Fort in 1712, in full view of the courtiers. Or take the example of Meer Taqi ‘Meer’ (1722-1810), an extremely sensitive poet and one of the four greats who contributed to the growth and maturing of Urdu poetry in the 18th century. In some of his poems and more so in his autobiography titled Zikr-e-Meer, he notes with an acute sense of pain and grief that those presiding over the empire were simple incapable of defending it from the depredations caused by the marauding gangs of an Iranian shepherd called Nadir Shah (during the reign of Emperor Mohammed Shah, in 1739) or by the raids of Maratha hordes. And this sense of pain and grief reaches its height when Meer describes how a Rohilla eunuch (hijra), Ghulam Qadir, blinded Emperor Shah Alam himself in the very royal court, in front of all his courtiers.

Meer’s contemporary, Mirza Mohd Rafi ‘Sauda’ (1712-81), pinpointed the decadent nature of Indian feudalism still more clearly. If we leave apart his qaseedas written in praise of Emperor Shah Alam (his patron) and other high-ups of the period, his hajo (odium) poems very clearly bring out the fact that the empire was going to dogs because of the extreme degree of inability and/or callousness of the people who were supposed to manage it. Sauda’s rather long, 35-stanza poem titled “Veerani-e-Shahjahanabad” (The Desolation of Delhi) laments how a host of good-for-nothing fellows were ruining the most beautiful city of the contemporary world. Meer had not long back termed Dilli (Delhi) as “Hindstan ka Dil” (India’s heart), but this very city of Shahjahanabad (Jahanabad in brief, Shahjahan’s Delhi, the Old Delhi of today) was now tottering and getting destroyed because of its own defenders.

GOGOLIAN WORLD

Contrary to Meer, Sauda was a poet of playful and frivolous nature and his hajo poems in particular are marked by a piercing ridicule of those managing the state of affairs. In one of his couplets, he advises others (in fact satirises) that

Khwahish hai do jahan ki agar to zaban se tu
Juz madh-e-shah sarr-o-alan mat sukhan nikal.

(If ye want to have both of the worlds, then from your lips, Don’t let out anything, secret or known, except in praise of the king.)

But the fact remains that, among his contemporaries, Sauda is simply unparalleled insofar as openly, fearlessly and bitterly attacking the system was concerned. One of his most penetrating poems in this regard is “Tazheek-e-Rozgar” in which, utilising the symbol of an extremely lean, weak and about-to-die horse, the poet makes fun of the tottering Mughal empire of his day. The poem’s title is untranslatable as it can give two meanings: tazheek is ridicule and rozgar means the Age and, here, not only is the poet lampooning his Age, the Age is also making fun of the empire.

Sauda’s world is a queer world, to say the least --- no less queer than Gogol’s world in the 19th century Russia. This is a world of feudal lords who are simply bereft of reasoning, intelligence, valour and other noble qualities. Out of conceit, they consider themselves nothing less than Bahlol but say, “O Baba, speak something else” when someone raises an issue concerning the administration. Here we see the infantrymen who are afraid of being shaved by a barber and we see the cavalrymen who simply fall down their beds when they hear a horse neighing in their dreams. The horses in the stables of feudal lords are whining out of hunger, and there is no surety of food for their elephants. Not very long back, the stables of these lords were full of Iraqis and Arabis (best quality horses) but they now get their shoes prepared by cobblers on credit. These feudal lords’ maidservants have grown so weak that they cannot carry khwans on their heads, and their servants don’t even know what a rupee coin looks like these days, whether it is circular in shape or a square, because they get only eight annas as wage and don’t receive even that much for months together. The palaces, whose sight was enough to make a person forget his hunger and thirst, are now full of grass and weed, up to a man’s waist in height, and a multitude of worthless fellows has brought Shahjahanabad to such a pass that the poet is left with no task but to lament ---

Jahanabad, tu kab is sitam ke qabil tha!

(O Jahanabad, when did ye deserve this depredation!)

Here, Sauda laments the loss of his Jahanabad and uses the term naqsh-e-baatil (false sign or letter) in this regard. A child writes something on his slate and rubs it out when he sees that he has written something wrong. The fate has similarly rubbed Jahanabad out --- as if it were a false letter on the slate of the world.

However, it is clear that Sauda attacks the pillars of the empire and has not much to say against the marauder gangs. Quite naturally! When Timur’s dynasty had itself got bereft of valour and manliness; what was the point in abusing an Iranian shepherd or a Rohilla eunuch!

URDU WRITER LOSES HIS WORLD

It was precisely the political edifice of this decadent Indian feudalism that came to a dramatic end in the wake of the Great Uprising.

This got reflected in Urdu literature in a strange way. While Urdu poets were intensely aware of the gradual decline of the feudal system, they were also associated with and patronised by the court in Delhi or in the provinces. Therefore the loss of Delhi or Awadh, or of smaller principalities like Farukkhabad, Loharu and Ferozepur Jhirka, was also the loss of the world of these poets and writers. It naturally, and directly, affected them --- first of all by depriving them of the patronage they were hitherto getting from their respective royals. In such a situation, the intense British retribution, repression and depredations after the suppression of the Uprising simply pushed to the background the internal weaknesses of the indigenous system, and now the general tenor was that a great civilisation was ruthlessly put to an end by a foreign power.

Quite voluminous is the literature in Urdu about the events of 1857-58 and the British repression to crush the Uprising --- so voluminous that to mention them even in bare outline is next to impossible. However, most of the writings about the Uprising remained incognito in the first two or three years of the event. The reason was simple. When the British were out to kill anybody they suspected of having the least of sympathy with the rebels, most of the poets and writers could have absolutely no hope of enjoying the freedom of expression, and yet they went on silently recording their feelings about the developing situation in the hope that the posterity would one day get a glimpse of what happened during the period.

The best-known example of such writings is Dastambo, written by Mirza Ghalib in Persian, while he was confined to his house during the revolt and subsequent British reprisal. (In fact, he escaped the British wrath only because his friend the Maharaja of Patiala had posted a troop of his soldiers outside his house.) In this work, Ghalib chronicled the events of 1857-58 on a daily basis, though it is not regarded as an outstanding work. However, the letters he wrote to his favourite disciple Mirza Hargopal ‘Tufta’ and to his friends in various parts of the country in this period are far richer in content and are regarded as literary masterpieces.

DARING TO EXPRESS

One important poem of this period was “Fat’h-e-Afwaj-e-Sharq” (Victory of the Eastern Armies) by Mohd Hussein ‘Azad.’ It was published in Delhi Urdu Akhbar on May 24, 1857, during the heyday of the independence war. The British later hanged the poet’s father, Mohd Baqar, the proprietor and editor of this paper, for his fearless reporting. Azad, who in this poem celebrated the downfall of the British, albeit obliquely, was also searched, but he somehow escaped. People’s Democracy (April 29, 2007) has already carried an informative article on the role of Delhi Urdu Akhbar in this independence war.

Special mention must be made here of Fughan-e-Dehli (The Cry of Delhi) that was published in 1861, less than three years after the British held a durbar to arrogantly declare the paramount position of their Queen. This publication has a two-fold importance. It was perhaps the first occasion when an anthology of poems was published in Urdu, even though our poets and writers knew about the British concept of an anthology. At the level of genre, it was thus a valuable addition to Urdu literature. But it was still more important for the fact that the creations of some 40 poets, included here, give us a glimpse of what happened during those fateful days. The loot and plunder of the city, the brutal suppression of the rebels and common citizens, the unprecedented excruciating situation facing the emirs and nobles, all find an expression in these poetic creations. Given the brutality of the British reprisal, the language and style used in some of these poems are naturally somewhat cautious, and may even mislead one who is not familiar with the metaphorical ways of expression used in Urdu. But what these poets wanted to convey is absolutely clear. They give an unambiguous idea of how the Muslims bore the brunt of repression in those days and one of the poems, without mincing words, tells us that not an able-bodied young man was spared hanging in Delhi in 1857-58. Saying such a thing in so many words or the inclusion of such a poem in the said anthology was, in itself, an act of courage and daring in those days. Some of these poems end on a positive note, expressing the hope that Delhi would be populous and have good days once again. Wasn’t it an oblique expression of the hope that the British Raj was not going to last long in the country?

Yet another example of daring and courage in this period was the poem “Fughan-e-Dehli,” bearing the same title as the anthology mentioned above. This piece by Mohd Sadruddin Khan ‘Azurda’ directly refers to the imprisonment of Nawab Mustafa Khan ‘Shefta’ and the murder of Imam Bakhsh Sahbai, a learned man of Delhi, by the British. It is known that the British publicly shot dead Sahbai and two of his sons along with a number of other persons, as a part of their retribution drive in Delhi. (See People’s Democracy, June 3, 2007, box item on page 9 about Sahbai.)

VALUAVBLE TESTIMONIES

One of the best-known poets of this age was ‘Muneer’ Shikohabadi who was associated with the royal court of Farrukhabad in UP and is regarded as a leading figure of the Lucknow school of Urdu poetry. During the very early days of the Uprising, Muneer was arrested, interned in Banda Jail, physically tortured, released, again imprisoned, tried and then sent to the Andamans. According to one account, he was implicated in the murder of a high-class prostitute called Nawabjan, but there is reason to believe that the case was a cooked one from end to end --- just as Maulana Mohd Baqar of Delhi Urdu Akhbar was falsely implicated for the murder of a British official called Taylor and hanged. Muneer’s poems are valuable testimonies for understanding the fate that befell the region of Awadh in those days.

The poetic creations by the deposed Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar, Zaheer Dehlavi (a young but renowned poet in the court of Zafar), Qurban Beg Salik, Mohd Ali Tishna, Agha Hajo, Sharf, Hakeem Agha Jan Aish, Dagh Dehlavi, Barq Lakhnavi and by Ghalib’s disciples like Altaf Hussain Hali and Meer Mehdi Majrooh, to name only a few poets, are also important for knowing the developing situation in Delhi, Awadh and Rohailkhand.

There were also full-length accounts of the Uprising from the pens of Urdu writers. More important among them are Tarikh-e-Urooj-e-Englishia (History of the Rise of the English) which is Volume 9 of Tarikh-e-Hind (History of India) by Maulvi Zakaullah, Dastan-e-Ghadar (Story of the Revolt) by Zaheer Dehlavi, and Sarkashi-e-Bijnaur (The Disturbance at Bijnaur) as well as Asbab-e-Baghawat-e-Hind (Causes of the Revolt in India) by Syed Ahmed Khan who was yet to become a Sir. An English language chronicle, translated by Dr Nazeer Ahmed into Urdu under the title Roznamcha-e-Ghadar (A Chronicle of the Revolt) is also worth going through.

Most of these writers continued the tradition of ‘Mas’hafi’ (regarded as a link between the Delhi and Lucknow schools of Urdu poetry) who had directly accused the British that “The kafir (infidel) Firangis have snatched away India’s wealth, pomp and splendour by deceit.” (It is worth mentioning in passing that the word kafir was then used not for the Hindus but for the British. We see the same usage of the word in several dozen quotations given by William W Hunter in The Indian Musalmans, published in 1871.)

In his Asbab-e-Baghawat-e-Hind, for example, Syed Ahmed Khan held the British squarely responsible for losing the goodwill of the people of India. He said: “It is the task of a government to try and win the sympathies of its subjects, not a duty of the subjects to try and gain the kindness and patronage of the government. It is now a hundred years since the British regime was established in India but it has not yet won the hearts of the people.” And, some two decades later, Shad Azeemabadi thus exploded the British propaganda of benevolent governance:

Sabza pamal, kali shakh pe murjhai hai,

Aur hai shor ki gulshan mein bahaar aayi hai.

(The greenery has faded and the bud has sweltered on the twig, And the noise is that it’s now a spring season in the flower garden.)

TURNING POINT

However, 1857 marked a turning point in the history of Urdu literature as well, beginning a veritable renaissance therein. The basic question now in the mind of any Indian was: How come that a handful of the British were able to subjugate India and destroy the Mughal Empire that was, with the Safavids of Iran and the Ottomans in Turkey, one of the three biggest powers of the world only a century ago or so?

Researchers have said so many things on this issue. But the explanation the Indian mind, caught in a process of churning, offered in the immediate aftermath of 1857, had had religion as its basic ingredient. Whether we agree with it or not, the conclusion our ancestors arrived at was that our turning away from religion was the basic cause of our defeat in that war of independence. Everything went all right till the Hindus and Muslims adhered to their respective religions, but the path of their destruction was paved the moment they deviated from the path of religion.

There was nothing unnatural in it. In a letter to Engels, Marx had suggested that one must investigate why the history of the Orient appeared as the history of religion.

Be that as it may, the fact is that religion was then an important matrix of political mobilisation in India. When Zafar addressed the rebels from the ramparts of the Red Fort, he made an appeal to the Hindus and Muslims in the name of their religions. The same we see in case of Maulvi Ahmedullah Shah in 1857. This tradition of religious appeal continued later, as we see in the cases of the Wahabis and Faraizis, Tilak and Bipin Chandra Pal, Aurobindo Ghosh and even Gandhi.

The use of religion for political mobilisation later led to disastrous consequences, like the country’s partition on communal grounds, and we are still facing its curse. But at that time it did serve the purpose of overcoming the people’s sense of despondency and bringing them into action. The Ganapati festival of Tilak is a known example.

Urdu literature did not remain unaffected by this religion-based renaissance. From Altaf Hussein Hali and Mohd Hussein Azad through Akbar Allahabadi to Sheikh Mohd Iqbal and Braj Narain Chakbast, all sang in the same basic tune which was the tune of the Wahabis and Faraizis, Tilak and Pal in the realm of politics.

SYNTHESIS & OPENNESS

However, quite distinct from a socially conservative Tilak or the fundamentalist Wahabis, Urdu poet displayed a remarkable degree of openness and was not averse to the idea of a synthesis. If we leave Akbar apart, none among Hali and Azad, Iqbal and Chakbast was averse to adopting and adapting the western sciences, arts, technology and education. It is true that they stood for a synthesis of the western sciences and culture with the eastern spiritualism, all in the name of Indian (or oriental) exceptionism, but an inclination to adopt whatever was positive in the West is unmistakable.
An emphasis on the need of reforms was a logical conclusion of this mode of thinking. If our poets wanted to adopt something from the West, it was because they found shortcomings in their own society and culture, and felt the necessity of reforms in many walks of life. Hali wrote his (by now celebrated) Musaddas with this very thinking, and Sir Syed regarded this work as the guarantee of his own salvation. He used to say: “If the Allah asks me, on the day of judgement, as to what I had done in this world, I would say that I made Hali write his Musaddas.” In a similar manner, we see Chakbast striving for progressive reforms in his Kashmiri Brahmin community.

In fact, the post-1857 Urdu poet was much closer to Ram Mohun Roy than to Tilak or the Wahabis insofar as an inclination for reforms was concerned. And we see Urdu poets too, like Ram Mohun Roy, facing strong opposition from conservatives. Hali and Chakbast regularly got abusive and/or threatening letters from the lunatic fringe among their opponents.

Reform in the domain of literature could not remain very far off in such a milieu. Ehtesham Hussain, a progressive critic of yore, has quite correctly remarked that the feudal social order had seriously blunted the power of expression of an Urdu writer, and it was 1857 that freed him from this predicament. We find, for example, a powerful poet like Ghalib complaining about the narrowness of the genre of ghazal, wishing some more space for the purposes of expression. And his disciple Hali, along with Azad, went quite far ahead in creating this space for the posterity. The growth of the new nazm, as distinct from the old nazm a la Sauda or Nazeer Akbarabai, was a direct influence of western literature. “Gor-e-Ghariban” (Graves of the Poor), verse-to-verse translation of Thomas Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” by Nazm Tabatabai, popularised this western genre far and wide.

Some of the Urdu writers were also outspoken in their opposition to the British rule, even while accepting the western sciences and education. Chakbast’s poem “Lord Curzon se ek Jhapat” (A Duel with Lord Curzon) is quite hilarious, describing the poet’s verbal duel with this autocratic viceroy. Though this duel takes place in a dream, there is no doubt that its publication was a daring act on part of Chakbast who was an admirer on Tilak and hailed Gandhi’s satyagraha in South Africa in its very early days, in 1906.

It was thus that, in Urdu, an extremely favourable ground for the progressive literary movement was already laid down before it took a shape in the 1930s. Nay, it is also an incontestable fact that Urdu writers took the initiative in formation of the Progressive Writers Association in 1936. And those who dub Urdu as a “traitor language” out of blind prejudice, will they please note that the corpus of anti-imperialist literature which Urdu produced because of its direct association with the Great Uprising of 1857 and its aftermath, has perhaps no parallel in any other Indian language?