Winston Naked

Winston Naked

There is a new and largely critical book on Churchill written by Frankfurt based historical researcher Madhusree Mukherjee, called Churchill’s Secret War. It has, not surprisingly, been extensively reviewed in the Indian media.

It says, amongst other things that help to strip away some of the lustre from the great man, that Winston Churchill was deliberately and wilfully responsible for the last of the Bengal famines (1943), that killed at least three million people.

It was one of the diabolical ironies of the devout Anglican moorings of the British Raj, particularly during the Victorian era that saw it to its zenith, that we lost over 45 million souls to periodic (about seven years), man-made famines throughout 200 years of British rule. And these needless deaths were caused by imperial priorities of war, annexation and armies on the march, such as the Afghan War, or, as in Churchill’s time, WWII.

The Raj thought nothing of  depriving the poorest “natives” of basic staples of food by creating artificial scarcities resulting in rampant inflation, in order to divert grain and victuals to the war or annexation effort of the day.

But when Churchill wrote, (had ghost written), his four volume A History of the English Speaking Peoples, he lionised himself and dwelt on aspects of his selective memory. There wasn’t, of course, a single word in it about the Bengal famine of 1943-44.

To an imperialist like Churchill, unwilling to preside over the loss of Empire, anything that could strike a blow on the back of Indian nationalism was fair means. This included opposing limited self-government in the 1930s, vilifying Mahatma Gandhi, promoting the policy of divide and rule, and despising Indians in general for their temerity in wanting to overthrow British rule. So, genocide via famine too was probably reckoned to be par for the course, betwixt the many “weak whiskies” and cognacs that he famously consumed throughout the day and night.

To the credit of the Mughals whom the British usurped power from in the first place, there was no such privation during over 400 years of their rule; though the Mughals were given to massacres and sackings of another kind, of course. But such blood-letting, brutal as it was, did not involve, comparatively, such large numbers.

And similar kudos must go to ourselves since independence, despite the abject appeals that resulted in the humiliating PL-480 handouts from America in the Sixties, before our own Green Revolution made us food self-sufficient in the following decades.  

Alas, despite this, thousands of starvation related deaths still occur in the poorest parts of the country today, owing to our callous political and bureaucratic bungling of surplus food stocks, abysmal storage conditions, and appalling distribution inefficiencies. There is also the rank corruption in the rationale and timing behind questionable exports and imports of food.

For all his rediscovered faults, Churchill’s lasting contribution to history was his early recognition of the true intent of the Nazis. And that is why he was the right person to preside over the war years. But afterwards, the British people, in their wisdom, saw to it that he was voted out of office, and, to their credit, they never let him back in.

But deprived of parental warmth as he was in his childhood, Churchill developed a vicious streak that was never very far from the surface. And it is one of the truisms of life that a man may burnish his image as much as he likes, but people can somehow see right through him to his essential self.

And as for imperialism itself, not only did the baton pass to the Americans directly but is ready to be passed on to the Chinese sometime later in the 21^st century. Though, in fairness, it might be a few years yet. Besides, there could always be an unforeseen twist in the tale, resulting in the abortion of such naked ambition, seeking to work its inexorability, not through the dogs of war, but in peace time.

Yet another icon of our post war era, but more properly blossomed in the Sixties, Seventies and since; is the musician John Winston Lennon of The Beatles and subsequent solo career alongside the Japanese-American Yoko Ono. He has also had a new BBC documentary made on him. Called Lennon Naked, it dwells on his essential psyche.  

The new film shows John’s deep insecurity, his excessive drug taking and resultant psychosis, his cruelty towards his near and dear, an eccentricity and arrogance bordering on something darker, and clearly indicates that he was responsible for the break-up of The Beatles out of a spiteful hubris.

Lennon’s working class soul was essentially troubled by an anguish of abandonment felt from early childhood; much like the aristocratic but very lonely Churchill, brought up by governesses and preparatory schools. One compensated with an ostensible crusade for Peace, however subversive; and the other, by ruthlessly prosecuting a war that he nearly didn’t win.

Lennon’s was the more lurid history. His mother Julia left his father to remarry when John was just six. His father went off to sea and disappeared for 17 years. John was brought up by his Aunt Mimi, while his own mother had three more children with her new husband, living just a few lanes away in his native Liverpool. And then she was tragically run over by a bus.

All this was, no doubt, grist to the mill for the flowering of that famous Lennon genius, but it was also the reason for his pain and anger.  Likewise Churchill’s life- long leaning towards heroics, adventurism and brinkmanship was probably compensation for the hollowness and inadequacy he felt inside. It helped to keep the “black dog” on his back at bay, helped with liquor, long baths, the painting of passable water-colours, and those famous cigars.

Lennon’s middle name was Winston. And both gentlemen, for all their storied glory, were tortured souls, driven, in equal measure, towards greatness and self-destructiveness.

That Churchill was put out to lionised pasture, and lived for decades during which he saw the world he believed in slip into history, was perhaps fitting. And likewise that John Lennon was shot in the street by a crazed fan, stilling the childhood injury done to his soul with a bullet through his heart.

(1,046 words)

September 13^th, 2010

Gautam Mukherjee


Published in The Pioneer Op-Ed Leader on 15th September 2010 as "The war on Bengal" and also online at www.dailypioneer.com where it is archived also under Columnists.

Two Versions

Two Versions

There is a distinct disconnect between the Government and the Governed in India. The former drifts, flounders, feathers its own nest; and the latter suffers patiently or not so patiently.

The Governed are decidedly victims of extremely poor Governance, even in the midst of high growth rates lately; in a phenomenon similar to that which prevails in neighbouring China. There too, the majority of the numerous people, on a per capita basis, are very poor, while the single Communist Party ruled Government and nation is certainly well off, and the fastest growing economy in the world to boot. But then, ours, almost equally populous, is also the second fastest growing economy.

Still, this complaint is not only about neglected and disenchanted tribals turned Maoist, disgruntled Islamists turned terrorist, emasculated middle classes turned into grumbling nonentities; or ever growing numbers of poor people robbed of every shred of their dignity!

After all, this, and more along these lines, has proved so intractable to our successive Governments as to almost seem old hat. And being in a ruling party near majority in UPA II seems paradoxically to have made the quality of Governance worse. And this has in turn bewildered and belied all the high hopes of the electorate that chose not to return a typically blackmailing, regionally focussed multi-party coalition to the Centre this time.

But things are undeniably worse than in UPA I, plagued as it was by its 60 seat wielding Communist allies. And worse also than when the Opposition many party NDA combine ruled, under the sage and popular  Prime Minister AB Vajpayee. This then must be complacency; bred perhaps by a reduced threat perception about the possibility of being unseated. Otherwise, it is indicative of the cluelessness of two leaders, or is it three, at the top, all naïve at best, about the nuts and bolts of Governance.  

This lament is also not just about corruption, though it has grown sufficiently brazen and all pervasive to put us in the leading ranks of corrupt nations worldwide. The Commonwealth Games coming up are in undeniable danger of turning into an expensive and embarrassing fiasco. And for sheer looting, shoddy workmanship and dangerous callousness, it has already plumbed heretofore unfathomed depths of depravity.

No, it is time to recognise that our political classes, the bureaucracy and other arms of Government have been left behind. They are simply unable to keep up with the demands of a resurgent India. And everything under their sway, which is altogether too much for them to cope with, is suffering. Vital matters such as Defence and Agriculture are in bad shape.  So are the entire gamut of state administered Education, Health, Natural Resources, Law & Order and Basic Infrastructure.

It has always been so in independent India. But the state of affairs was less glaring when the Government used to shackle private enterprise so tightly that they could barely function. Then everything was at a near standstill anyway. But now, the private sector has pulled away since 1991, and is today responsible for all the bright spots on the national landscape. Practically all of the growth in annual GDP figures and most of the lucrative employment opportunities are in the private domain, particularly if the unorganised sector is included in the calculations.

Through it all, the mystery wrapped up in the enigma of Indian Governance today is an insidious myth of spurious aam aadmiism. This is ruthlessly promoted, looking however, not really for equity or justice or upliftment, but for a constituency of stable votes.

It is reminiscent of the failure of Communism not just in West Bengal and Kerala, but around the globe, including in the most durable Fidel Castro’s Cuba, starving at America’s doorstep, all in its ostensible championing of the poor.  

It is also reminiscent of the riddles of revisionism that sometimes plague history and legend alike. For example, coming down to us from the 9^th century, there is a persistent and fascinating legend about the existence of a female Pope,  remembered as Pope Joan, who successfully masqueraded as a man (John or Johannes), all the way from a mere provincial monk to the exalted Seat of St. Peter in Rome.

This, of course is denied absolutely by the Vatican as scurrilous untruth, particularly as the sex of the Papess was only outed when she went into a labour of childbirth while leading a Papal Procession. She was, predictably, torn to pieces by an outraged mob.  

But the legend of Pope Joan is a compelling story, and two feature films have been made about it. The first, from 1972, was directed by Michael Anderson, and its screenplay was written by one John Briley, who also wrote one for Richard Attenborough’s multiple Oscar winning film on Mahatma Gandhi in the eighties.

The other version, also titled Pope Joan, is a multi-national and detailed production, from 2009. The older film, from 1972, is somewhat glamorised with the beauteous Liv Ullman in the title role, but the newer one is a serious attempt to capture the ignorance, superstition and brutality of the “Dark Ages” when Christianity, even Roman Catholicism, with its considerable orthodoxies, was not quite as settled into its groove.

Contextually, there are several titillations. Celibacy was by no means universally practiced by the clergy. Nor was the Church a neutral observer in matters worldly though the sword and guile was used in a manner different from the Papal diplomacy of today. Some might say, even in matters sexual, things haven’t changed very much.

Pope Joan features also on Tarot Cards, immortalised as “The Papess”. But then, Tarot Cards have always been a vehicle for a coded history imbued also with a number of fascinating Hindu (Kali), Hebrew/Kaballah and Romany Gypsy influences; woven in holistically to enhance the powerful mysticism of its fortune-telling propensities in the hands of a good reader.   

But the most telling part of the narrative on Pope Joan is to do with what is permissible to history. And there, Pope Joan, like the incompetence of Indian Governance, is simply not officially acknowledged. Our politicians and bureaucrats, our judges, municipalities and policemen, likewise admit to nothing. And as long as they can get away with this kind of stone-walling and lack of accountability, nothing substantive can change for the majority of people in this country.

(1,055 words)

September 8^th, 2010

Gautam Mukherjee