BY PRAFULLADATTA GOSWAMI M.A.
The flood of patriotism let loose by the 1942
movement took its toll of heroes and heroines in Assam, and now we cherish the
memory of Kanaklata, Kusal Konwar, and others. Well has it been said that we
appreciate our heroes, only when they are dead! The newspapers sometimes make
mention of another patriot–Rani Guidalo, the Naga lady–happily with us still,
who sacrificed herself at the altar of Liberty and suffered more than was
necessary.
Our story takes us back to a dainty girl who was
born into the Kaccha tribe. She belonged to a village some seventeen miles away
from Mokokchang. It is an interior village bordering on the home of tribes that
still take an interest in head-hunting. She was a moody girl, often betaking
herself to the quiet haunts of Nature for which the Naga Hills are so noted.
She dwelt among ‘the untrodden ways’ beside the springs of the hills. Perhaps
she had sensibilities, which could not be appreciated by her associates. Her eyes
were luminous with unrealized visions and her well-developed nose bespoke an
energy which was to make itself felt later on.
She was picked up by some Missionary who brought
her to Mokokchang and tried to instill into her a dose or two of Missionary lore.
There she was for some time, reading up to Class VI, but then she attained her
puberty and had to go home. That was the custom of her forefathers.
In the meantime the call of freedom was stirring up
the Nagas. It was no part of the general Indian nationalist movement, but
fostered by the traditions and circumstances of the Nagas themselves. The
British did not look upon this with an eye of tolerance. They captured two
rebels –‘Haideo,’ and Jadunang, and had them hanged.
The young maiden was feeling the pulsation of a new
life around her. She was probably in tune with the poet:
“We bear the wrong in silence,
We store it in our brain;
They think us dull, they think us dead,
But we shall rise again.”
She was just awaiting her chance, when she heard a
rumour that India had attained freedom! It was 1930, and of course India and
the plains of Assam were shaking with the tide of the Civil Disobedience
movement. The Naga girl felt that her hour had come: she gave a call to her
people, to rouse themselves and break the shackles that had been put upon them
by the Britishers.
A hunt was set up. But she was too swift for her
pursuers. She stirred the people and passed swiftly from village to village,
from hill to hill. She attained some amount of prestige and even a halo, the
halo of a goddess. She became the Rani, the sobriquet which now
decorates her name.
At last she was caught with the help of, it is
said, a Naga doctor. She was captured in 1932 and brought for trial to
Mokokchang. There she remained for some time as an under-trial prisoner. The
chief charge that was brought against her was that she abetted murder. For,
seven heads hunted by the wild tribes in the neighbourhood of her village had
been found, and it was ‘politic’ to put the blame upon her.
The trial was held within jail and she was awarded
a life sentence. The news inflamed thousands of patriotic Nagas and there was a
threat of rushing upon the jail itself, especially when she was about to be
removed after the verdict. It was the Rani’s gesture which restrained them. For
she played up to the role which she had taken upon herself and spoke to the
crowd which had gathered there. She said: “Do not be unruly. Do not lose your
patience. For I shall come back; they won’t be able to keep me for more than
two years. I shall come out and go to see the Mahatma who has given freedom to
India. You shall be free again.” Thus spoke the valiant girl, and the
simple-hearted Nagas listened to their Rani.
Then followed her travels and travails. She was
moved from place to place. She was taken to Shillong, to Tura, to Aijal in the
Lushai Hills. The loss of their dear daughter shattered the happiness of her
parents. Her mother became blind with weeping. Her father died of sorrow. Her
elder brother, who was also a rebel like her, is believed to have been shot
dead. Her younger sister came to be adopted by the Missionary.
She had imagined that she would be able to breathe
the air of freedom in a year or two, but when the years rolled on, and all
sorts of indignities were heaped upon her, her wild spirit almost broke down.
She hardly talked. She did not look into the eyes of her visitors. She was
careless in her deportment, and came very near to losing the balance of her
mind.
Of the tortures that were put upon her it would
suffice to mention that she was made to walk hundreds of miles when she had to
be moved from one place to another. Once she had to walk all the way from
Shillong to Tura, and on another occasion from Shillong to Aijal. She was but a
young woman brought up on the cool heights of the Naga Hills. In 1939 she was
seen by a Jail Visitor at Shillong. She seemed to be borne down by her
suffering. She was kept as a C Class prisoner and was then fanning the dust
chaff off some paddy.
The outside world hardly knew anything of the
affair. That a wild flower of liberty was languishing in prison was not flashed
in the newspapers. But in 1935 Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru happened to visit
Silchar A band of Nagas met Panditji and apprised him of the heroic exploits of
Guidalo. It was a sad item of news for the fiery leader of India’s struggle for
freedom. Naturally he became indignant and tried what he could to get her
released. Then only was the story of this sacrifice to patriotism broadcast to
the world. The plenary session of the Congress which was held at Allahabad in
1936 passed a resolution demanding her release.
Since then, the years have rolled on and much has
occurred in the intervening period. Rani Guidalo was released in 1945, and she
is now in her own village as an internee. She went to prison as a blooming
young lady still in her teens, and she came out with her health shattered and
her mind inhumanly tortured. But her wild spirit still smoulders in her, and,
in recent interview with a press correspondent, she showed a lively interest in
recent happenings in the political arena. She does not wish that the Nagas
should remain outside the Indian Union, but she demands complete autonomy for
the Naga Hills. She would resent any interference from outside in their
internal affairs. She believes in the co-operation of the plains people and
appeals to them to come to the help of their less advanced hill brethren.
Thus, the tale is soon told. But what draws one’s
attention on to Guidalo is the poetry in her character and career. The history
of events, it has been observed by a notable historian, is ephemeral, and
for the scholar; but the poetry of events is eternal and for the
multitude. The poem that this wild flower from the backwoods of the Naga Hills
acted and lived will survive as a symbol. It will outlast her mere existence as
a Naga patriot.