SP Mookerjee, the sacrificial lion of Indian politics

For a man who founded and led a movement that has emerged as the sole challenger of Congress dominance in Indian politics, Dr Syama Prasad Mookerjee has received far less than his due from historians. References to him and his work, especially during the Freedom Struggle, are limited and often biased in ‘standard’ history books. Of all the sterling attributes of Dr Mookerjee, his courage stands out as exceptional. His fateful journey to Kashmir is just one example. During the communal riots of 1940, he flew straight into Dacca, the epicentre of violence, in an unsafe, private monoplane and proceeded to tour the riot-effected region despite denial of police protection. A year later, as Bengal’s finance minister, he travelled unnoticed in a second class compartment to attend the banned Bhagalpur session of the Hindu Mahasabha — “The solitary case in the annals of British rule in India when a minister of the Crown in one province courted arrest in another province under the same Crown.”

Mookerjee believed in direct action (of the benign kind). He did not indulge in ivory tower politics. When the notorious famine of 1943 struck Bengal, he was at the forefront of all relief efforts. When the Hindu Mahasabha took up the cause of temple entry for Scheduled Castes, he personally visited temples and convinced their administrators. As India’s industries minister he meticulously planned and implemented large projects, several of which have greatly contributed to the building of the nation and its economy. And when power hindered Mookerjee’s urge for action, he had no hesitation in choosing the latter. Despite two weeks of intense persuasion by the entire Congress top brass, Mookerjee did not change his mind about resigning from the Nehru cabinet in the wake of the despicably futile Nehru-Liaquat Pact. Above all, Mookerjee’s shining armour remains his patriotism, which was unfettered by any of the narrow interests often unfairly attributed to him.

Yet, several writers have criticised Mookerjee in a manner that casts aspersions on his great qualities. Seasoned journalist MJ Akbar writes that “Kashmir was an excuse” for Mookerjee to target Pandit Nehru. This statement denigrates two of Mookerjee’s basic qualities: his statesmanship that never allowed political differences to degenerate into personal conflicts, and his passion for maintaining national integrity, which was under threat in Kashmir.

LA Gordon writes that “though he (Mookerjee) differed from them (the Bose brothers) on many political issues… He would fight to get them out of prison and press the government about their health”. Personal ego mattered so little to Mookerjee that he had no hesitation in offering an ex-Congressman of a much smaller political stature the post of Jana Sangh’s president. At the peak of tension between the Muslim League and the Mahasabha, he chose to meet MA Jinnah on his own initiative. Similarly, in the midst of great acrimony and violence he had no hesitation in meeting Sheikh Abdullah for talks.

Therefore, it is extremely improbable that Mookerjee could have borne any personal grudge against Nehru. It was only after observing the gradual deterioration of the situation in Kashmir culminating in Sheikh Abdullah’s challenges to India’s sovereignty that Mookerjee took up the cause. Till then he believed that the issue fell within the exclusive domain of Nehru. Having devoted a major portion of his life to the fight against India’s partition, the prospect of another state seceding was too grave for him to bear.

Thus, to say that Kashmir was an “excuse” for Mookerjee merely because as a cabinet minister he was party to Nehru’s initial policies is a travesty of truth.

Another baseless criticism of Mookerjee, one that was recently repeated by Pranab Mukherjee, is that he was also “responsible” for Partition. Nothing can be further from the truth. While the Congress had practically conceded to the idea of Partition much earlier, it was only in late 1946 that Mookerjee began his fight for partition —  not of India, but of the proposed Pakistan. Till Mookerjee was firmly convinced that Partition was foregone, he fought against it with all vehemence. He strongly rejected the suggestion of Partition in the Cripps proposal. He also rejected the Cabinet Mission’s proposal of ‘territorial self-determination’, stating that “India’s integrity and indivisibility must be maintained at any cost”.

But later events, including the ‘Great Calcutta Killing’, coupled with the inevitability of Partition convinced him that if Pakistan was to be created, as demanded by the Muslim League, Hindus in those regions would lead a life of misery and oppression forever. So Mookerjee took up the demand for the partition of Bengal and successfully fought for the retention of West Bengal in India, much to the dismay of Jinnah.

Of all the criticisms against Mookerjee, the most untenable is the suggestion that he cooperated with the British. Ramachandra Guha lists Mookerjee along with leaders who, according to him, “collaborated with the rulers when Congress men served time in British jails.” Joya Chatterji mocks nationalists who “regard Syama Prasad Mookerjee as patron point” by drawing reference to the Mahasabha’s activeness in ‘the war effort of 1940s’.

The Mahasabha’s “active” involvement in the British war effort was in line with its two-fold policy: (i) to counteract the Raj’s growing dependence on the League for support to enrol Muslim soldiers; and (ii) to continue the process of “militarisation” of Hindus who in the future could act “either as the national army of a free India or an army that might revolt and make India free.”

In his book on Partition, a former ADC to Mountbatten, Narendra Singh Sarila, gives a lucid account of how disastrous the Congress’ decision to withdraw from the political scene during the war years proved to be and how it helped a beleaguered Jinnah inflict the kind of damage he did on the nation and its people. Mookerjee, who was Bengal’s finance minister during the war, was continually harassed at work by British officials. The Fazlul Haq-led ministry — which Mookerjee had worked hard to form mainly to keep the League out of power — was forced to resign by Governor Herbert soon after Mookerjee quit in protest against the British policy of denying relief to famine victims.

The British despised Mookerjee. Viceroy Wavell believed that the Mahasabha, under Mookerjee, was as “anti-British as the Congress”. Mookerjee differed with the Congress in approach, but was equally, if not more, concerned about India’s freedom. It is highly imperative that such criticisms against him are responded to and dispelled by fair-minded historians. Prashanto Chatterjee’s recently published biography on Mookerjee is an excellent effort in that direction.

Today, on Mookerjee’s 110th birth anniversary, it is worth recalling the words of Mahatma Gandhi to Mookerjee’s concern that “he (Mookerjee) would be dubbed as communal (by the Mahatma)” for joining the Mahasabha: “Like Shiva who drank the poison after churning the sea somebody must be there to drink the poison of Indian politics. That can be you.”

The anecdote captures the essence of Mookerjee’s entire political life. He fought dirty battles for India with a clean heart and paid for it with his life.

— The writer is a political activist and lawyer based in Chennai. His Twitter handle is @jadithyareddy