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.