Dialectics of Communalism*

 

BY BASUDHA CHAKRAVARTY

 

Rarely has a more baffling problem beset the path of any people than the communal problem in India today. That section of opinion, of which the Muslim League is the focal point, poses the problem in simple terms. The Muslims are a separate nation, and the problem is to determine the position of this nation in India’s body-politic. They are a separate nation, simply because they feel themselves to be one. Academic dissertations on what is meant by a nation will not wholly help, to support or rebut that opinion! Nor would it do to give it face value, for if the Muslims feel themselves separate nation, they should have felt it all along. But it is only recently that they have been claiming to be a separate nation. Previously, there was the possibility of Muslims merging themselves in a common Indian nationality. The decision now is that that possibility cannot be realised. The contention is that, with the increasing withdrawal of foreign control, it has been realised that Hindus and Muslims are apart as ever. Only a common alien rule concealed their differences; only in the movement against that rule could some sort of coalescence be found. Since the time, some years ago, where the process of transferring power to Indians began, the incongruities between the communities have been revealing themselves. Power has not been used in common interest; it has tended to the domination of one community by another. Muslims have been made to suffer politically, economically and culturally; they do no longer feel themselves to be a part of the same nation as Hindus. Even before there was any question of power, nationalism as represented by Congress revealed its ideological background as Hinduism. The conception of the country as Mother has been celebrated by Hindus in a celestial song; it is not, however, subscribed to by Muslims. The burning torch carried from the venue of one Congress session to another is an inspiration to Hindus, but idolatry to Muslims. So there is nothing positive in common between them.

 

The momentum this feeling has gained is a measure of its depth and spontaneity. It would not do to call it artificial. It is elemental enough cause a mass upsurge. The argument is sometimes heard that the leadership has wrought this feeling among the masses; it has not been a spontaneous development. But so far as the fact of the masses being led by their leaders instead of acting in their own initiative is true, it is equally true of all parties in the present stage of India’s historical development. That argument, therefore, does not take us far. For good or evil, the vast majority of Muslims today feel that they are a nation apart from the Hindus.

 

Yet, it can be empirically deducted from historical experience that the differences the Muslims feel need be no permanent bar to their assimilation into one nation. While they last, however, they can easily work to the cultural and political disadvantage of the community which, however large by itself, is a minority in the country. It is possible that they have so worked; it is equally possible that in Provinces where that minority is a majority, the minority, though it is the majority in the All-India setting, feels itself at a disadvantage. Such is the genesis of the movement for a separate Hindu Province of West Bengal, an amazing anti-climax to the anti-partition agitation which shook the Government, achieved its object, and has since been regarded as the beginning of our national movement. These differences claim to be decisive because they have not been subdued under points of common contact, except temporarily and limitedly in opposition to alien rule. They went under the leveling that foreign imperialism worked; the feudal social organization that was maintained by imperialism, and secured a social equilibrium in its day, concealed the inter-communal discord. So now, when imperialism disappears and feudalism decays, the old differences have come to the surface again.

 

It would be useless to minimize the fundamental strength these differences have revealed. In their extreme manifestation, they have overwhelmed even what have been regarded as fundamental values. The sacredness of human life, the woman’s honour, the child’s claim to protection at the hands of all, are set at naught. It would be a comparatively less serious matter, were the responsibility for such assaults confined to a section of society; what is horrible, yet true, is that in the context of communal antagonism, the whole of society has been found guilty of the suppression of these values. The majority of the people may not have been guilty of crimes; but they have connived at them. To passively support crime is bad enough; to fear to oppose it is worse. To kill somebody at Noakhali because somebody was killed at Calcutta is justified on the principle of a tooth for a tooth; and then killing in Bihar is rationalized as securing an equilibrium. If the assassin is a goonda, what shall we call the educated intellectual who takes upon himself to plead for an equilibrium of that nature? It is only realistic to admit that communal antagonism is today all-pervading. All values of life have gone under it. Basically, of course, it is due to fear, from which paradoxically, though not unnaturally, even the majority community in a Particular area is not found free. Even they get ready for imaginary attacks by the other party: they are seen coming out of meetings of Defence Committees with grave faces. A wholesale fear holds the community in its grip and destroys its mental and physical balance. The communal aggressor emerges, in this context, as the communal protector, and holds the community at his bidding. The communal goonda is not a class apart from society. It is true that conditions that were generated during the second world-war and after helped this metamorphosis. The black-marketeer, the corrupt official, and the profiteer had already destroyed the social balance. They had starved lakhs of people to death. They had played havoc with women’s honour. Human life, woman’s honour, and all moral and social standards lay low. Even what had been regarded as accepted norms of right conduct were ignored. In this setting, nationalism that had developed an elemental impatience at foreign rule tended to totalitarianism, intolerant of even suspected opposition. Not unoften it laid murderous hands on left-wing groups which, it thought rightly or wrongly, were obstructing the country’s reconquest of political power. Freedom was thought of in terms of power. Nationalism approximated to Fascism and sought to annex the primordial enthusiasm created by the story of the Indian National Army. Muslim desire for consolidated self-assertion had already been taking the field as a rival nationalism. It banked upon the internal democracy of Muslim society to mobilize the collective will of what it called the Muslim nation. It drew upon the accumulated reaction to the exclusivist manners and customs of the Hindus. Tinged thus with a fanatical spirit of jehad, it broke into the nationalism that had reared itself on mere anti-imperialism. Hindu communal reaction to that was inevitable; so came a straight clash. No wonder the clash has affected our whole corporate life. It has left a deep mark on our personal lives too. And so long as the differences are unresolved, the discord within the body politic must indeed remain.

 

It is possible to think of these differences as merely political. Inasmuch as politics affects our whole life, these differences too penetrate into the inner core of our being. Yet, it is not impossible to relegate them to their own sphere. One imagines that they could be allowed to run their own course in politics, leaving the rest of our lives alone and waiting to be adjusted such political chances as the communal differences might bring about. One should think that there are important factors to make that possible. These must offset the discord that seems so overwhelming today. There is neighbourhood of centuries. There are the thousand and one economic, ill bonds that entwine our daily lives. They determine the pattern of our social existence. One would even take a life of co-operation between the communities permanently for granted. Over and above it all, there is the appeal of a common humanity, the permanent injunction of all religions for good and neighbourly behaviour. They are in the background today, nevertheless present and even insistent. These are factors that run counter to differences that seem so vital today. If they cannot resolve those differences, they might at least keep them in their place.

 

But their failure to do so is patent. Here, then, is a tremendous problem. That is the problem Gandhiji decided to face at Noakhali and then in Bihar. That is the problem Mr. Jinnah would solve by exchange of population. Really that is no solution, but a confession of inability to find a solution. Incidentally, it is a negation of Pakistan or what Pakistan has been described to be. For Pakistan, in this context, would be an unalloyed Muslim State. It has, on the other hand, been promised to be a democratic State where the majority Muslims would have no special rights such as minorities would not have. If that be so, agreement on a separate Muslim majority State should immediately solve the problem. If exchange of population is suggested by communal riots, it would cut across the argument that communal riots would cease as soon as Hindus and Muslims decide to have separate States, where, as the majority and the minority, they must continue to live together.

 

Hindus and Muslims have lived together under monarchical rule and then under foreign imperialism. Is it to be supposed that they cannot live together when they are free? The problem poses itself today in such blunt terms. Mahatma Gandhi at one stage said that the minority may leave if they are given compensation,–that is to say, if the majority want them to go and facilitate their going. It is clear he does not consider it easy for the communities to live together in the present setting. It is his opinion based on experience at Noakhali. Not that it is complete or absolute, for the Mahatma’s own experiment is not yet complete. But so far as it goes, it has to be taken into account.

 

It need not indeed be absolute. For, still, over vast parts of India, the communities are living together. They are so living in spite of the fact that the country as a whole has received a shake-up, that the very foundation of existence appears to have been shaken. Thousand and one economic ties bind together the communities in their daily lives. There is the danger that tragedies in a few places might colour judgment of the state of the country as a whole. They would not indeed be so fearful, were they not symptomatic of potential conditions throughout the country. But yet they are not the only side of the picture. There is the common humanity which has persuaded many a Muslim to save many a Hindu from the fury of their co-religionists, and vice versa. Even that is not all. There are ties that are capable of resolving the mortal combat into a final embrace. The adversary whom I kill I do not despise. I acknowledge him to be my equal. In that I fear him, I have respect for him; and, in another context, I may love him. Communal hatred has also this quality of ambivalence. A special sense of responsibility for saving a member of the other community reflects this quality and is not, even now, altogether absent.

 

To what then is this hatred due? Certainly not to religious differences, for these have been there through the ages and have not stood in the way of the communities living together. It would be alive to say that they were perpetually prevented by the Government from fighting each other. No Government could have stood such a strain. The cause of the estrangement between the communities must, therefore, be sought elsewhere. Historically, it is traceable to the intimate contact into which the Hindus came with western education, shortly after the beginning of British rule. That gave them an advantage over the Muslims who kept themselves aloof from everything English, out of sullen resentment at the loss of their political power. The Hindus worked up their position of advantage in the services and trades. They were employed by the foreign rulers also for collection of revenue, so that the rent-receiving interests, even in the Muslim-majority provinces, came to be largely Hindu. The Permanent Settlement in Bengal largely consolidated Hindu landlordism which went together with the money-lending business, the only source of credit in the village. Social and economic power was accompanied by such infiltration of political power as in course of time took place. Subsequently, however, under the inspiration particularly of Sir Syed Ahmed, Muslims tried to make up the leeway. They took the path of separation rather than competition, because religious differences came in handy for that comparatively easy line of approach. Muslim desire for self-assertion took the shape of a claim to a due share of the services and then of political opportunities. Muslim separation thus grew in quantity, until a sense of cultural difference from the Hindus resolved it qualitatively into a perception of separate nationhood. It was reinforced by what was considered to be the unbridgeable difference between Hindu and Muslim ways of life. The desire for a separate homeland was a natural corollary.

 

This article is not concerned with the communal problem as such. It is only a necessarily inadequate attempt to present the inter-relation forces centred on that problem. It is easy enough to see that separate National States are easier to desire than to achieve. For one thing, there is no communal, or, if one would have it so, national territorial demarcation. Separate States are possible in India only on a majority basis. Even so, the unreconciled and powerful minority stands in the way of a separate State. Exchange of minorities has been suggested as the way-out of this impasse; but it remains an academic solution. The needs of the country’s defence, communications, foreign relations, trade and commerce, militate against separate States in India. These needs cannot be ruled out, because India is geographically one and separate States within her borders do not easily suggest themselves. But considering the position in which Muslim nationalism stands today in Indian society, a solution on nationalist lines is difficult to find except on the basis of separate States willingly coordinated for common purposes. In the absence of such a solution, Indian society as a whole has lost its balance and is a victim to a total unsettlement of values.

 

Today, Nationalism in India at once gives rise to, and is confronted with, bi-national, even multi-national claims. These could be by-passed only by a socio-economic revolution that could level down the inequalities that feed, and are masked under, the contradictions of nationalism. Only with socio-economic re-orientation could centripetal forces win over the centrifugal. The Muslims refuse to live under what they consider to be the political and economic power of the Hindus; in order to avoid living under it, they want a State or themselves, and call upon their cultural differences with the Hindus to reinforce their claims to such a State. A social readjustment, such as would secure diffusion of power among the people at large, would obviate the necessity for separation for which cultural differences are an inadequate ground. Cultural exchange runs as a thread through Indian history but has recently, under the impact of political differences, suffered a rather artificial reverse. It is no use denying the resultant difference in the psychological set-up which has indeed affected even social and personal relations. Yet, the increasing and, by now, decisive impact of science upon religion precludes the possibility of religion succeeding for any length of time to prevent co-ordination of communities into a politico-economic purpose reaching out to the rapidly shrinking world. In India today economics and, therefore, politics are split up into cross-purposes. Hindus are landlords in Bengal and capitalists elsewhere. Their economic domination appears to the Muslims to be the domination of Hindus as such. The Muslims want to get rid of that domination; the rising Muslim bourgeoisie requisition this separatist desire to strengthen themselves. The fact, nevertheless, is that what domination exists is over the people as a whole. Once it ceases and power passes to the people, Muslims will have no reason to consider themselves suppressed by Hindus. But that is exactly what the bourgeoisie leadership of both communities is concerned to prevent. Nationalism here is caught in the net of its own contradictions. It is unable either to admit the claim of its rival or to by-pass it through a social revolution. It must then either admit separate national entities or try itself out in a mortal conflict. In the former case the national question will be relegated to the background, though not immediately eliminated, thus permitting socio-economic questions, which are today sought to be put off on the plea of national solidarity, to claim attention. In the latter case the people will get increasingly tired of a conflict that endangers their very lives and means of living,–such tiredness is visible already in places where intense communal conflicts have occurred–and will, in the ultimate analysis, find it necessary to pose socio-economic problems vitally concerning themselves. Whatever course nationalism may choose or rather stumble upon, Indian society that is split today by communal discord must await a social revolution for the reestablishment of the human values which seem to be at a low ebb today. Only a revolution can cut across and level down the inter-communal antagonism that is deep-rooted enough to have rent asunder the permanent values of life. Then will fellow-feeling and friendship come again into their own; the neighbourhood of centuries will have developed, through democratic re-orientation of society, into perception of a common existence. Already within the process of the maturing revolution, communal discord is being toned down. The struggle, for instance, of the working class for tolerable conditions of life increasingly integrates the communities into a common objective. When quantitatively it develops to the point of a qualitative social change, communal division will have ended. The two-nation theory will have lived out its day.

 

* This article was written before the division of India into India and Pakistan. But the writer’s thesis continues to be valid. –Editor, Triveni.

 

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