Colonial modernity – Page 11

Traitor

Kamila Shamsie in her own words. The most thought provoking are these words below:

If you had asked me my feelings about the union jack, I suspect I’d have
said the image with which I associate it most closely is Jessica Ennis smiling her beautiful smile with a flag around her shoulders at the Olympics
– a joyful thing to think about for even those of us who roll our eyes
at all nationalism. But I had spent the last couple of years writing a
novel set during the Raj, and as the camera clicked, I found myself
remembering pictures of the union jack strung along the streets of
Peshawar in the days of empire. It brought about a strange unease, which
wasn’t in any way about my feelings toward Britain, but rather my
feelings towards Pakistan, a nation of which I would continue to be a
citizen.

I had thought dual citizenship would feel like a gain, not a
loss. Instead, as I took my seat in the chamber I found myself
reflecting on what it means to be from a country in which acquiring a
second passport is regarded across the board as reason for celebration.
Weeks later, I was trying to explain this to British-Libyan writer,
Hisham Matar, who knew exactly what I meant. “In that moment you are
betrayed and betrayer both,” he said. “You’re betraying your country by
seeking another passport, and you’re betrayed by your country which
makes you want to seek another passport”

IMO it is a good thing that India does not permit dual citizenship. Naturally a “best of both worlds,” “cost-free” dual citizenship seems like a perfect choice. But this I firmly believe, citizenship is not an entitlement, nor should it be easy to attain (or buy). Also that your (original) country needs you more than your (adopted) country. Today, in her own words, Pakistan has lost more than Britain has gained.That is a pity.

regards

The (unsung) mutiny (1946)

A 94 year old recounts his vivid memories of those momentous events 68 years ago when the soldiers raised by the British to keep their own countrymen in chains finally revolted and (as the British saw it) the empire game was suddenly up. As a shameful and terrible consequence the mutineers were never employed by either Indian or Pakistan Navy. As they say, a good act never goes unpunished.

It’s difficult to recall a day 68 years ago when you are 94. But the
RIN mutiny, which many believe was the last nail in the Raj’s coffin,
wasn’t just any other day. And I happened to be a proximate eyewitness
to this momentous event.

On February 18, 1946, ratings at the HMIS
Talwar, a shore establishment for signals training, went on strike,
protesting against the inedible meals and searing insults to which they
were regularly subjected. The revolt spread like wildfire. Some
mutineers took up arms; others took to the streets of Bombay. Ratings
famously pulled down the Union Jack on rebel ships, replacing it with
flags of the Congress, the Muslim League and the Communist Party of
India.

Unlike the sepoys of 1857, who were a heterogeneous group, the RIN
ratings were by and large educated, well-trained and well-armed. The
British administration was not so much perturbed by the peaceful
civil disobedience movement (satyagraha) launched by Mahatma Gandhi as
by the spectre of an insurrection in the modern Indian armed forces,
which they had themselves trained.

Later that evening, I went to Apollo Bunder—the Gateway of India.
Everything was quiet. Thereafter, I was taken by some friends to the
flat of one of the activist supporters of the mutiny. I learnt that the
morning’s event I witnessed was but a small part of a well-orchestrated
chain of strikes and demonstrations. No wonder the British government
was rattled.

By February 22, the mutiny had spread to naval units across
the country. Some 20,000 sailors, 20 offshore establishments and over
70 ships are believed to have been involved. That British prime minister
Clement Attlee announced the Cabinet Mission to India just a day after
the mutiny erupted is testimony to the mutiny’s perceived threat.

The revolt was as spectacular as it was short-lived. Neither the
Congress nor the Muslim League supported it; the strike committee
surrendered after talks with Vallabhbhai Patel. Hundreds of mutineers
were jailed or dismissed, never to be reabsorbed by the armed forces of
independent India or Pakistan. Never were the ratings celebrated as
heroes.

Within a year and a half of that day, India became free and the RIN
became the Indian navy. On the day of independence, I was with my
wife-to-be on a little hillock called Antop Hill. Suddenly, the sky lit
up with fireworks and I knew we had become free. I owned a small car, a
dkw two-seater. It had seen many owners, and wouldn’t start without
pushing. That day, I had kept it on the slope of the hill so it would
start easily. My wife and I jumped into the car, which dutifully rolled
down the hill. Jubilant, we drove to Marine Drive and joined the stream
of cars going to the secretariat.

regards

Brown in space

Science in India has to some extent a reputation for lassitude. Mind you, not Indian scientists, but institutional Indian scientific culture. So what explain’s the space program? From India, Proof That a Trip to Mars Doesn’t Have to Break the Bank:

While India’s recent launch of a spacecraft to Mars was a remarkable feat in its own right, it is the $75 million mission’s thrifty approach to time, money and materials that is getting attention.

Just days after the launch of India’s Mangalyaan satellite, NASA sent off its own Mars mission, five years in the making, named Maven. Its cost: $671 million. The budget of India’s Mars mission, by contrast, was just three-quarters of the $100 million that Hollywood spent on last year’s space-based hit, “Gravity.”

My explanation is simple: national pride and motivation to do something that matters. Soviet science did great things too, when it could motivate people. The issue in places like Italy and India is to incentivize this sort of productivity in their general scientific cultures.

A stirring reminder of India’s role in the British Empire

WWI – Indian taxpayers bore the brunt of Britain’s war.
By Armistice day 11 Nov 1918, the First World War had cost India, £379,000,000 (military expenditure, equipment, food). If that wasn’t enough the Viceroy presented the British Government an additional £100,000,000 in Imperial taxes. That’s a staggering £479,000,000 in total which would be worth approx £30,000,000,000 in today’s money. The next time some anti immigrant, anti Asian ****** asks what you’re lot have done for Britain, don’t get mad, share the facts.

I must say that the poster is somewhat amusing; how can a millennia old civilisation such as India be considered a “young lion” on par with Australia, Canada and NZ is somewhat surprising.