14 August 2022

How refugees from Sindh rebuilt their lives – and India – after Partition in scroll.in

The community’s many losses and the distortion of their history is only now being acknowledged.
by Saaz Aggarwal
Bhai Pratap looks on as Jawaharlal Nehru inaugurates Kandla Port, 1952. Image courtesy Pratap Kriplaney, grandson of Bhai Pratap

What happened in Sindh during Partition was not considered consequential until quite recently. In comparison with the grisly violence and graphic images associated with the process, the Sindhi side of the story paled into insignificance. I Will and I Can, the story of Jai Hind College by Nandita Bhavnani was among the first mainstream publications that gave a glimpse into this “refugee” community and its many contributions – in 2012. With this and her subsequent work, a rich and complex tapestry began to emerge.

In these ten years, a growing swell of voices have shown that the dominating images of Partition – the trains filled with dead bodies and the women forced to jump into wells to save the family “honour” – are only elements of the picture.

There are many factors which make the Sindh story different. Originally a Hindu and then Buddhist land – as was the rest of India – Islam came to Sindh as early as CE 711. It grew steadily and peacefully with Sufi values of tolerance, integration. Fluid belief systems dominated all forms of worship. This ecosystem endures among Sindhis even today, in locations around the world.[S1] 

Through centuries of paying tribute to Delhi and Kabul, indigenous prince of Sindh ruled largely undisturbed. Non-Muslims migrated from neighbouring provinces confident of a relatively non-discriminatory environment – Nankapanthis from Punjab, and worshippers of various Hindu deities from other parts. Over time, they evolved into a comfortable, prosperous minority with an eclectic belief system.

Hindu temple in Malaga, Spain, Saaz Aggarwal, 2013

One group served in the courts of the princes, rising to positions of responsibility and even power, and came to be known as the Amils of Sindh. The larger part of the community were traders, from the omnipresent village grocer and moneylender to those with a larger reach and empires that stretched inland all the way to Russia, China and Japan and Iran on the other side.

The British occupied Sindh in 1843 – in gross violation of treaties of eternal friendship with the princes – their descriptions of the barbarism a transparent and rather weak defence of the annexation. They also wrote of the sad plight of the Hindus, but a closer look at indigenous accounts of the time reinforces the “comfortable, prosperous minority” version.

The British occupation was a setback to the traders of Sindh but they soon used the opportunity to expand using the steamship routes and set up retail outlets in ports around the world. In 1999, a French scholar, Claude Markovits, published a detailed account of how this group of South Asian merchants had carved a niche for themselves in a European-dominated world economy. [S2] 

The Amils, meanwhile, had soon been recruited into the British administration and switched quickly from Persian to English. Their commitment to education led to increased opportunities. They began setting up their own schools, and educated their daughters. The Dayaram Jethmal Sind College – Dayaram Jethmal Government Science College [S3] today – one of the finest institutes of higher education in India at the time, was built and funded by the Hindus of Sindh. By the early 20th century, the Hindus were the backbone of the Sindh administration as well as its economy.

All this while, Sindh had been a part of the Bombay Province and in 1936, it was given provincial autonomy. The separation was not made on communal lines but for more administrative care and focused development. In fact it was a Hindu, Harchandrai Vishindas[S4] , who first expressed this need at a Congress assembly in 1913.

However, the separation made the Hindus a minority in a Muslim province, in a larger political situation with festering differences between the two communities. And so it was in Sindh that the question of Partition was first raised. In the annual session of the Muslim League in Karachi in 1938, Muhammad Ali Jinnah made Pakistan the official demand of the Muslims of India. In 1942, the legislative assembly of Sindh passed a resolution supporting the demand for Pakistan.

The DJ Sind Arts College in Karachi in 1893. Credit: Zainub via Flicker, Public domain.

The Second World War was occupying the British and so was the Indian freedom struggle. When Mohandas Gandhi demanded that the British “Quit India!” the response around the country was tremendous, and no less in Sindh. There are numerous examples, not least being the sound system used by the Indian National Congress which was contributed and personally monitored by Nanik Motwane of Chicago Radio, an electrical business that started in Larkana, Sindh, and with head office in Bombay.

Men, women and children of Sindh participated in the freedom movement, most poignant and heroic being the case of 19-year-old Hemu Kalani. Arrested for his participation in Quit India, he was sentenced to death. The response to mercy petitions was that he would be pardoned if he revealed the names of his co-conspirators. Remembers Madhuri Sheth, 13 years old at the time,

He was hanged at midnight and we sat up in wait until the body was cremated behind the primary school where I studied.

When the line of Partition was drawn, it was believed that, well integrated as a religious minority for centuries, the Hindus – about one-fourth of the population – would continue as such. And Sindh was given in its entirety to Pakistan.

As Partition approached, tension rose and reports of the massacres in other areas caused fear and uncertainty. When an influx of migrants entered Sindh from other parts of India, things began to change dramatically. Dr Mohini Hingorani, 17 years old at the time, was a student at DJ Sind College, Karachi. She remembers:

When the trouble started before Partition, Bunder Road Extension where we lived remained unaffected. But Gadi Khata, where the college was, had severe riots and some of my father’s stepbrothers were caught in the crossfire. One of them was killed.[S5] 

Still, the Sindhi Partition story is marked by less violence than in any other area. Karachi remained calm even in December 1947. Cases of abduction and even decapitation were reported – but they were few. This changed with the January 6, 1948, pogrom.

Thirteen-year-old Khushi Khubchandani stood on the terrace of his home and could see mobs carrying away radios, furniture and valuables. If anyone resisted, they were attacked. People escaped mobs who attacked buses by reciting verses from the Quran. A very large number were saved by Muhajirs who put themselves in danger to protect them.

The exodus began, with fleeing people crowding the docks to escape.

Some tried to stay on. Pribhdas Tolani[S6] , a once well-known landlord of Larkana, had no intention of leaving. In October 1948, he was arrested and imprisoned in Sukkur Jail, accused of being an Indian spy. His eldest son, Gopal Tolani, Sessions Judge in Sukkur at the time, could do nothing but watch, in helplessness and despair. When Pribhdas Tolani was released, it was on condition that he leave Pakistan and never return. So it was not just mobs of the homeless and victimized who wanted the Hindus of Sindh out so that they could claim their property – the government too participated.

Mansharam and Rukmani Wadhwani (Dr Mohini’s uncle and aunt) with three of their children, on the second floor of the family building in Sukkur. The beautiful Sadh Belo temple, accessed by boat, could be seen from this terrace which had cots on which they slept at night in summer.

The newly truncated India, economically depleted by centuries of colonial rule, further drained by the Second World War, was hardly in a position to receive the lakhs of fleeing refugees but did make a tremendous effort. Army camps around the country were rundown, but had the infrastructure. The homeless ones were taken there in droves.

Remembered T. Sushila Rao, wife of a camp commandant at Kalyan,

If I ever woke before dawn and looked out, I would see a long line of the Sindhi refugees walking to the station on their way to Bombay for the day to work or trade or study. They had lost everything but did not weep and complain. How hardworking they were!

Sindh had many women doctors and teachers, even in the 1930s and 40s – but most middle-class women did not go out to work. After Partition, women of many families contributed economically. Some used domestic skills, making papad and pickles which their menfolk sold from door to door; some took in sewing. Others went to work as telephone operators, secretaries, assembly-line workers.

Many of these refugees had lost not just their homes and their homeland but also their comfortable lives and sources of livelihood. The Bombay Refugee Act of 1947 was a further slap on the face with the restrictions it placed. The Sindhi community fought back with indignation. By definition, a refugee is a stateless person – and they were in their own country for whose independence they had sacrificed so much! The Act was modified and a new definition, ‘displaced persons’ was coined.

Kaka Pribhdas Tolani (1893-1988) and his sons, Gopaldas, Pribhdas, Nandlal, Chandru, Bombay, c1970s. Having left Sindh with nothing, Kaka Tolani was one of the many Sindhi entrepreneurs who began by building a home for himself and his family, but continued in the ‘construction line’ and went on to build some of the best known-buildings in Bombay. He also built a number of colleges in Gandhidham which are still run by his family. 

Yet another blow came when the constitution failed to list Sindhi as an Indian language. Aghast, the writers and thinkers of the community recruited the young Ram Jethmalani to lead their campaign and Sindhi was included in Schedule VIII of the Indian constitution – but only in 1967. So while Sindhi parents had stopped speaking to their children in their mother tongue in an effort to acquire languages which would help them in their new lives, the state played its own role in the extinction.

The biggest support came from within the community, with doors being opened to members of extended families, friends and business associates. And the wealthy ones were most generous, contributing materially to the camps, providing employment within their enterprises and campaigning relentlessly to the government for matters such as hawking licenses and support in housing development.

There are a very large number of names, too many to list here, but among the best known is Nanik Motwane in Bombay for his extraordinary efforts on behalf of the “refugees” at every level.  Ramnarayan Chellaram in Bangalore contributed with material relief and also helped the “refugees” protect their rights as citizens preparing identity documentation, applications for compensation, admissions to educational institutions and other requirements.

Certificate of domicile of Situ Kishinchand Bijlani, who was 13 years old at the time and lived 30 years as the wife of a planter in the Nilgiris – but preserved this precious document all her life

Sahijram Gidwani lived in Ahmedabad: he had studied at Cambridge and was retained as tutor to Vikram and Gautam Sarabhai through their secondary schooling and later headed the Sarabhai Empire's Calico Mills, which contributed substantially to refugee relief. As the numbers increased, he moved to Bombay and took up an honorary position as chairman of the newly instituted Bombay Housing Board.

One of the most interesting histories is of Bhai Pratap, one of the businessmen with a global retail chain, who with Gandhi's help acquired a piece of land from the Maharao of Kachchh to create a “new Sindh”. It was Bhai Pratap who initiated the development of Kandla Port. [S8] He assured the Maharao that he would bring enough business to Kandla so that it would soon match up to and exceed the volume of trade done by Karachi. He was also instrumental in having Kandla designated as a free-trade zone – Asia’s first – in 1965.

Meanwhile, the refugee camps in Bombay, Poona, Ahmedabad, Ajmer, Bhopal, and other places grew into hives of industry. Being homeless, the Sindhis built homes for themselves. In time, they would change the skyline of these cities. From the camps rose other tremendous institutions – factories, hospitals, educational institutions. For a community that had lost its ancestral homeland forever, the names they chose – Jai Hind, Jai Bharat, National and so on – are poignant indeed.

Seventy-five years later, the Sindhis are respected for their contributions and for the way they have integrated. What is often not noticed is the magnificent way in which this heterogenous community behaved as one: each person, each family, each group felled by Partition simply stood up and kept moving. Their contribution is seen and appreciated – but the loss of their language, music, poetry, philosophy – and the distortion of their history – is only now being acknowledged, as an important aspect of the story of the 1947 Partition of India.

 Saaz Aggarwal is a biographer, oral historian and artist. See her website here.

We welcome your comments at letters@scroll.in.

First appeared here on Aug 13, 2022

No comments:

Post a Comment