Shourie Finds it Convenient to Tar Savarkar: Sets Bad Precedent
Image courtesy: Manushi
Arun Shourie’s new book, “The New Icon: Savarkar and Facts,” is making quite a lot of buzz. For someone who was considered an icon of the “Intellectual Right” to write a critical account of Savarkar — the controversial Hindutva ideologue — is a treat for a few and a surprise to others. I have always admired Shourie and have grown up reading some of his earlier books. Not that I agreed with him on all the issues he wrote about, but I was inspired by his diligence and the integrity with which he wrote. This is why Shourie’s new book comes up as a major disappointment. This review will not attempt to cloak any of that.
Before we proceed with the review, a brief disclaimer is in order, lest I be accused of producing a review “without even reading the book”. Firstly, yes, I have read the book in its entirety and have also gone through some of his ‘notable’ online interviews on this book. I particularly wanted to watch those interviews to see if there is any justification or rationale for the way Shourie has written this book. But I have to admit that the book at least offers some objective analysis, which is completely missing in the interviews, where Shourie flows in the new political current his interviewer wants him to swim in.
Second disclaimer: The review is not based on Shourie’s new politics or my political inclinations. That, as an admirer of Shourie’s work, I have tried to present the review only after carefully examining some of his claims and weighing them against the “facts as they are.” But after having done that, one cannot escape the conclusion that Shourie’s book is a politically colored project that lacks objectivity and thoroughness.
One of the podcast presenters laudingly calls this an “academic” work filled with references and quotations. Indeed, that is necessary for any academic work. But there is something far more fundamental expected in academic writing, which Shourie’s book, unfortunately, lacks. First, for any academic work, a basic precondition is that the conclusions shall not precede the academic and critical enquiry of the subject — that the observations should flow from the critical study of the subject. The second prerequisite is that the conclusions should be proportionate to the data or the observations. Glaringly, Shourie’s book flounders on both accounts. Observations in the book are disproportionately biased in favor of making Savarkar a peculiar historical figure. This strengthens the suspicion that Shourie indeed had ‘predetermined’ views about Savarkar, which he sought to buttress through this bulky volume.
Firstly, on the claim of the book that it “unearths certain facts that will surprise you”. With the blurb making such a claim, one would expect that, indeed, something new was discovered by the author. Alas, if you believe that, you are up for a major disappointment! For those who have studied, read, and analyzed Savarkar and also for those who have been his admirers, there is hardly anything new in the book. If at all there is anything new, it is the twist that Shourie gives to certain “facts” to build a feeble case for his version of Savarkar.
Let’s take, for example, one aspect of Savarkar’s persona examined in detail by Shourie — an aspect of Savarkar’s life which Shourie claims he admires — which is his rationalism. Shourie says Savarkar was a thorough rationalist who appealed to reason when interpreting texts, tradition, and customs and was unsparing of those who did not stand to rational scrutiny, but with the curious claim that those who admire Savarkar do not know about it. One interviewer of Shourie says, “…this fact will shock Savarkar’s followers and possibly pleasantly surprise his critics.” Even at the end of the section that discusses Savarkar’s rationalism, Shourie himself asks, “What part of Savarkar’s writings on these subjects are those who are appropriating him today prepared to accept? (p. 51) –– giving the impression that this aspect of Savarkar was completely unknown to his followers. The truth is, all this has been very well documented, and these views of Savarkar are well known among his admirers. All his biographers have studied and commented on them, and many of his essays on these very matters are often discussed by supporters and critics alike. One example here should serve the purpose.
Shourie points us to a speech that Vajpayee delivered at an event to commemorate Savarkar (p. 55). At that event, P. L. Deshpande, a famous literary figure from Maharashtra and by no stretch of imagination a Hindutvavadi, delivered the welcome address. In the entirety of his address, which was joyously received by the enthusiastic crowd, he focuses on the rationalist-humanist side of Savarkar, to the extent of declaring that the biggest gift Savarkar gave him (P. L. Deshpande) was that Savarkar made him an atheist. Accompanying Deshpande on the stage were, apart from Vajpayee, contemporaries and admirers of Savarkar, including members of the RSS. None of them had any qualms about accepting this facet of Savarkar. One may argue that it is the detractors of Savarkar who are finding this aspect of Savarkar’s world view new and hard to digest, and the fact that Savarkar, who was castigated by them all as a rabid communalist, actually happened to be a committed rationalist.
Savarkar’s admirers always knew this and accepted it. But what if one were to flip the logic and ask Shourie, for example, if he is prepared to accept all that Gandhi said and prescribed — Gandhi’s take on modernity, on the nature of state, and indeed on the use of violence. Is Shourie’s prescription of “two eyes for an eye, a jaw for a tooth” to deal with terrorism instigated by Pakistan in tune with what Gandhi would have advised and demanded? And if not, is it then safe to conclude that even Shourie is guilty of appropriating Gandhi and using him selectively? This, however, is the least of the contradictions in the book!
The next major charge that Shourie hurls at Savarkar is that he actively created “myths” about himself that were then “swallowed up by the gullible”. He begins with the “myth” of his famous escape from the S.S Morea that was moored at Marseilles. Shourie begins by quoting Vajpayee’s speech to show how the “myth” was created.
Two things are pertinent in this case: first, Savarkar himself never propagated the “myth” of his glorious escape by swimming across the ocean to reach Marseilles. Savarkar himself at least “twice” clarified that the jump from the steamer and swimming was no big deal. First, in the autobiographical account of his ordeal in Andaman written in Marathi titled “Majhi Janmathep” –– translated into English as “My Transportation for Life.” Savarkar on being asked by a guard on how many days he swam to reach the shores, replied, “What days and night? I may not have swum even for 10 mins before I reached the shores”. Notice that here, Savarkar scoffs at even the idea of swimming “day and night” and the expression that “I may not have swum even for 10 mins” unambiguously states that it was not a big deal.
The English translation, which Shourie quotes in the book, misses this little nuance of the original Marathi and quotes Savarkar as saying — “I swam only for ten minutes before I reached the shores”. This little nuance is important because Shourie, later in the same section, maintains that these ten minutes is also a “substantial exaggeration” (p. 62), amounting to myth-making by Savarkar. Savarkar reiterates the same position in an interview that he gave to the Organiser, an RSS weekly, in 1965, a year before his death. Even Dhananjay Keer’s biography, which offers a more dramatic narration of the event, does not blow the incident out of proportion to the point that would amount to myth creation. It is important to note that Keer’s biography was published when Savarkar was still alive, and he would have had a chance to go through it.
But Shourie insists on attributing the “myth creation” to Savarkar, and so he turns to one of the most convenient accounts for this “narrative” given in the book titled Life of Barrister Savarkar written by the mysterious Chitragupta. The authorship of this book is indeed uncertain. Several accounts suggest several different authors, and the speculation is also that Savarkar himself may have written the book under a different name to escape the government’s scrutiny. This is the book that gets into a highly poetic and exaggerated narration of the whole event, and so Shourie, conveniently ignoring the other accounts, insists on sticking to the book by “Chitragupta.”
Whether or not Savarkar authored that book and what the purpose of the book might have been, what one fails to understand is why anyone would insist on referring to a book whose authorship is debated. Another point to be noted here is that Chitragupta’s book was published in 1926 in Madras, and Majhi Janma Thep was published in 1927 and was well received by the people to the extent that within months, the first edition was sold out. Given the circumstances, if there is uncertainty about the authorship of a book and other more reliable sources exist, any academic researcher would know what to rely on. However, since Shourie is committed to insinuating that Savarakar was a myth-maker, he ignores other sources and focuses on Chitragupta’s version. Shourie uses this version for a host of other issues throughout the book when there are other “more authentic” sources. This pattern of selective quoting is not an exception but the norm throughout the book.
Shourie expends an entire chapter on proving how Savarkar was inclined to lie and prone to myth-making by selectively quoting a “few lines” from his written defense submitted to the court during the trial of Gandhi’s assassination (p. 467). It is a long written statement running into several pages, but Shourie picks up the initial few lines that can be used to buttress his predetermined conclusions. Shourie’s main objections are that Savarkar “lied about meeting Gandhi at the India House in 1908 and that he was lying when he referred to Gandhi as a “friend.” To quote Shourie, “Neither in India House nor anywhere else, neither in 1908 nor at any other time did Gandhiji and Savarkar live together as friends and work together as compatriots at all”.
Let us look at the charge about lying. Savarkar indeed mentions that in 1908, Gandhiji and he resided as “friends and compatriots” in India House. But it seems unlikely that he was lying as Shourie insinuates. It is to be conceded that Savarkar did get the year wrong in the written defense. Gandhi’s visit to India House happened not in 1908 but in 1906 (something which Shourie passingly notes in the book but glosses over to build his narrative (p. 469). Gandhi, in October 1906, had visited India House and stayed there for “at least a night or two” before moving to London’s largest and most luxurious hotel, The Cecil, arguably the most magnificent in Europe. The detailed account of Gandhi’s multiple visits to London is found in James Hunt’s “Gandhi in London”. Savarkar had started living in India House by July 1906 and had already started becoming a known name there. So, Gandhi did visit India House when Savarkar was there and spent a night or two at the India House.
Later, in 1909 as well, when Gandhi had visited London again, the two had met — though not in India House, but at a dinner on the occasion of Vijayadashmi in Nazimuddin’s Indian restaurant in Bayswater, London. Gandhi meeting Savarkar in London and having stayed with him at India House earlier in 1906 is certainly possible. Is it conceivable then that Savarkar probably got the year wrong in the statement but he wasn’t necessarily lying or building a myth around him as Shourie wants us to believe?
Also, Shourie then spends several pages showing what Savarkar was doing after 1910. That he completely glosses over those details that could link to a meeting between the two at India House in 1906 lays bare how he conveniently picks up “facts” to suit his case.
Consider this: what would Savarkar gain by lying about the year that he met Gandhi in London? Was this information going to be of any consequence for his trial? That small bit of detail was a highly inconsequential part of the entire written defence that runs into several pages. Savarkar himself maintains that such details, or memories as he calls them, “would naturally be held as too distant in so far as this case is concerned”. But Shourie insists on portraying this probable mistake as proof of his lying and myth-making tendencies. This brings us to the second point that Shourie focuses on about Savarkar lying that “Gandhi was his friend”. This is where I urge the reader to go through the entire written defense, which is available online. The portion that Shourie picks up and wants to use for building his narrative is the most insignificant part of the entire statement.
The written statement also never denies the fact that Savarkar and Gandhi had fundamental political differences. Never had Savarkar concealed his severe opposition to Gandhi’s politics and methods, and he was unsparing and forthright in his criticism of what he considered was detrimental to Indian interests. The statement attempts to make a point that despite these major differences, Savarkar never allowed it to fester into personal animosity and continued to nurture personal respect and goodwill. To explain the point, he reproduces several press statements that the Hindu Mahasabha under his leadership issued since at least the 1940s to show solidarity with the leaders of Congress whenever they faced arrests or difficulties. I am quoting just one example that Savarkar used in his statement to emphasize this point. The following statement was issued by Savarkar after the arrest of Congress leaders in August 1942:
“The inevitable has happened. The foremost and patriotic leaders of the Congress Party including Mahatma Gandhi, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru and hundreds of other leaders of the Congress Party are arrested and imprisoned. The personal sympathies of the Hindu Sanghatanists go with them in their sufferings for a patriotic cause.”
Savarkar goes on to reproduce several other such statements to make a point that political differences were not allowed to fester into personal animosities. In the same spirit, if Savarkar used the word “friend” for Gandhi, how is he perpetuating the myth? Nowhere in the entire chapter of the book do we get any sense from Shourie on the core focus of Savarkar’s written statement. Shourie, in the entire chapter, completely ignores the rest of the written statement and focuses on a few lines to make his case. His cunning twists and selective quoting of Savarkar’s statements are hallmarks of his machinations to paint Savarkar into a corner. But if this seems relatively less significant of Shourie’s concoctions, the ways through which Shourie wants everyone to believe that Savarkar was a Nazi sympathizer inspired by racist designs.
Shourie, in one of the chapters, writes, “The more Hitler seems unstoppable, the more news about what is being done to Jews in Germany comes out, the more fulsome does Savarkar’s acclaim become — for Germany, in particular for Hitler, most of all for what is being done to Jews” (p. 159). Going by this statement, one would assume that Savarkar’s speeches are replete with references to Germany, to Hitler, and praise for what Hitler was doing to Jews in particular. Since Shourie is making these accusations, one would assume that he would be referring to numerous such speeches in the book where Savarkar is allegedly praising Hitler for persecuting Jews. But how many does Shourie refer to? Just one — a speech delivered by Savarkar at an RSS event. We will come to the content of the speech in just a while, but first, on the timing of the speech.
The speech that Shourie refers to was delivered in July 1939. According to Shourie himself, the world was getting to know about the concentration camps and the severity of the persecution of Jews through newspapers by April – May 1939 (p. 161). In India, reports about the systematic persecution of Jews started featuring more prominently after the beginning of the Second World War. The extent to which the conditions of Jews in Germany were covered by Indian newspapers before the outbreak of the world war itself could be a good area of research, but an elementary read suggests that the severity of the issue became apparent in India only by the outbreak of war and more prominently in the early 1940s. One may assume that by July 1939, the information in India about the persecution of Jews may have been limited. Hence, for Shourie to accuse Savarkar by referring to a “single” speech delivered in July 1939 is flimsy ground to stand on. Recall Shourie’s expression again — “The more news about what is being done to Jews in Germany comes out, the more fulsome does Savarkar’s acclaim become”. It is important for Shourie to, therefore, also quote speeches after the 1940s where Savarkar was writing or speaking in support of Hitler’s treatment of Jews. Yes, there are times when Savarkar spoke of Germany under Hitler, but it was purely on strategic grounds in the foreign policy realm. His basic argument was that India should not be concerned about the “nature of a state” if the state has a utility for Indian interests. His main focus was which country could be used to serve Indian interests and how best to utilize it. But Shourie wants us to believe that Savarkar was all praise for Nazism and Hitler for his treatment of Jews based on one speech in 1939.
Nowhere in the speech does Savarkar condone what was being done to Jews in Germany under Hitler. The persecution of Jews is not mentioned in the speech at all. Savarkar praises Hitler, yes, but for a very specific aspect — for making Germany a formidable global force after its utter destruction and humiliation in the first world war. The unification of Austria — an idea that existed much before Hitler — is cited by Savarkar as an example of Germany defying the Treaty of Versailles, which was the source of humiliation for Germans after World War I and thereby marking its arrival on the global stage. Savarkar makes this point elsewhere as well. Nowhere does he condone Hitler’s autocratic methods within Germany. Jews do feature in the speech, but in an entirely different context.
The point that Savarkar brings to the discussion is what the facets or foundations of national identity are in the modern context. He primarily argues that there is a “national identity” of every nation, which is defined by its core national culture. That’s how, he argues, nations were defined in Europe. Germany for Germans, England for English, and Italy for Italians — all these nations, he maintains, are the custodians of their cultures. Similarly, India is primarily a Hindu nation, and it’s well within the rights of Hindus to preserve this cultural/national identity. While there lived Jews in Germany and Muslims in India — in defining “national identity,” Savarkar argues it’s primarily the Hindu cultural-civilizational identity that defines the Hindu nation and that Hindus must have the right to identify it as such. That’s the limited point that Savarkar wanted to emphasize in the short speech he delivered. But Shourie wants us to believe that the speech is enough to prove that Savarkar was condoning the treatment of Jews in Germany under Hitler.
The other aspect that is to be noted here, which Shourie very conveniently ignores in his haste to paint Savarkar as pro-Nazi, is that though speaking about a Hindu nation, Savarkar never prescribed this national identity to become the criteria for citizen rights. He was quite sure of the difference between a nation and a state — Savarkar maintained that the state had to treat everyone equally, irrespective of any superficial identities, something fundamentally different in the case of Nazi Germany. For instance, in his presidential address to the Hindu Mahasabha in 1937, he spelled out this very vision when he declared —
“Let ‘one man one vote’ be the general rule irrespective of caste or creed, race or religion. If such an Indian State is kept in view the Hindu Sanghatanists will, in the interest of the Hindu Sanghatan itself, be the first to offer their wholehearted loyalty to it. I for one and thousands of the Mahasabhaites like me have set this ideal of an Indian State as our political goal ever since the beginning of our political career and shall continue to work for its consummation to the end of our life. Can any attitude towards an Indian State be more national than that”.
And insofar as the charge of racism is concerned, this is what Savarkar had to say on the fundamental unity of humankind in the same book where he proposes his idea of Hindutva:
“After all, there is throughout this world so far as man is concerned but a single race— the human race kept alive by one common blood, the human blood. All other talk is at best provisional, makeshift and only relatively true. Nature is constantly trying to overthrow the artificial barriers you raise between race and race … Truly speaking, all that any one of us can claim, all that history entitles one to claim, is that one has the blood of all mankind in one’s veins. The fundamental unity of man from pole to pole is true, all else only relatively so.”
Though Savarkar believed in fundamental unity, he was no romantic idealist and was conscious of the fact that in the modern context, “identities” of different kinds exert a lot of pressure on each other, and if the Hindu nation was to survive, it had to respond, taking other features into context. This is why he articulated his position of the Hindu Nation, contextualized according to his times, but was careful enough to identify the difference between a nation and a state. Savarkar maintained this position throughout his political career, and the same was reflected in the Constitution that the Hindu Mahasabha drafted in 1946. The draft Constitution was unambiguous about equal rights to everyone irrespective of caste, creed, religion, or sex; it did not have any state religion and had detailed provisions to safeguard the rights of everyone, including minorities.
Savarkar’s position on a Hindu nation was thus much more nuanced than either understood or appreciated. There could be weaknesses in his position, no doubt, and those must be debated and discussed. But to quote a stray passage from one speech and make it the crux of Savarkar’s philosophy is a deliberate attempt to malign Savarkar. Shourie completely ignores the fact that Savarkar was one of the staunchest supporters of the Jewish state of Israel. He also ignores how Savarkar was appreciative of the Jewish minority in India and even admired their loyalty towards India.
Another cunning twist that Shourie offers is about Savarkar’s mercy petitions. This old charge itself has been responded to by scholars and admirers of Savarkar, and Savarkar himself never shied away from accepting the fact that he wrote petitions to the British seeking “mercy.” His biographers and admirers never shied away from accepting the fact that multiple petitions were written, as was the norm then, to secure his release from the Andamans. Shourie, therefore, does two things — one, despite accepting the fact that trying to get out of Andaman’s prison was “perfectly understandable,” he compares the petitions written by Bhagat Singh with that of Savarkar. It is both a wrong and an unnecessary comparison. But more importantly, he conveniently brings Gandhi into the picture for no apparent reason and then links it to the “shame” and “shock” that Savarkar and his admirers experienced because of the petitions. Shourie conjures up unnamed and unattributed supporters of Savarkar who say that the petitions were written by Savarkar on the advice of Gandhi. Shourie does not name anyone but alleges that they are “appropriators of Savarkar.” But why would they do that? Because, Shourie would have us believe, they are too embarrassed by the petitions.
Firstly, Savarkar never claimed that he wrote the petitions on the advice of Gandhi. When one points to the fact that “at one stage” even Gandhi advised prisoners to write such a petition — which is a fact — it is said to make a limited point that writing petitions was not an unusual or unheard of act when the British ruled. It was routine practice in those days. It was so normal that even Gandhi suggested that Savarkar write one. So much so that Gandhi even wrote an article titled “Savarkar Brothers” to make a case for their release. That is the limited point of bringing Gandhi here. But Shourie twists the entire narrative, first by making a baseless assertion that “appropriators say the petitions were written at the asking of Gandhi,” and then insinuating that this was done by them because of “shock” and “shame” for the “appropriators of Savarkar”.
Shourie devotes an entire chapter to a farcical psycho-investigation of Savarkar to come up with preposterous conclusions (pp. 88-113). His basic premise in the chapter is that Savarkar created a lofty “self-image” of himself where he is the center of all activities around him. Savarkar created, Shourie would have us believe, this larger-than-life image of himself, thought too highly of himself, and thus considered himself worthy of lofty rewards. To make his point, he brings out certain passages from several of his autobiographical accounts. Let’s look at one of those.
Shourie quotes a few extracts from Savarkar’s autobiography where Savarkar is narrating his perception of the state of affairs among Indians in London when he arrived there to study law. But Shourie begins with a curious insertion — he says, “Till his arrival, the young men were in pitiable state, he says. He saw a latent spark in them and he lit it” (p. 98), making the reader believe that Savarkar is attempting to take all the credit for sparking revolutionary work in London. But what is the actual text about?
The relevant segment can be read in Samagra Savarkar, Volume 1 (pp. 351-414) to get a sense of what Savarkar was trying to analyze and then compare it with how Shourie has portrayed the same segment in the book. In a nutshell, in the segment, Savarkar was reviewing the situation in London and lamenting the lack of strong revolutionary zeal in the Indian youth there. He takes stock of various political movements, like the London Indian Society or the British Congress Committee, and analyzes their primary objective, which was of mere self-government under a broader colonial architecture. That he disapproved of the constitutionalist/moderate ways of the Congress and its leaders like Nowrojee is no secret, and he wants a strong revolutionary movement to begin. Savarkar also notes that it is the lack of revolutionary ideas in the youth there that is the only impediment to starting a strong movement in London. Savarkar considers his experience with Abhinav Bharat could be of use, and he could work on that front. That’s the spirit in which Savarkar was writing about himself.
The other and more important point is this: let us concede for a moment the fact that, yes, in writing about himself and his experiences in the revolutionary movement, modesty is not a virtue for Savarkar. But was he necessarily “creating an image about himself”, implying that he was building up myths? If one reads the accounts of his contemporaries in the revolutionary movement, his contemporaries in Pune, in London, and later in Andaman and Ratnagiri, one can hardly doubt that Savarkar indeed was a figure who inspired everyone who met him, was able to build a strong revolutionary movement, and was a threat enough for the British to keep him incarcerated at Andamans first, and later in Ratnagiri, even though others were being released. If one just read the numerous reports that different officers sent about him during his incarceration in the Andamans, it should be enough to attest to the fact that Savarkar indeed had become a “problem” to the British. It is important to note what P L Deshpande once said about the writings of Savarkar. Deshpande maintained that one of the peculiarities of Savarkar’s writing is his indifference to “how” his writings would be perceived by the people – whether they would endear people to him or offend them was least of his concerns. He merely, unhesitatingly, presented the facts as they were and what he felt was right and honest and left it to the readers to evaluate and respond.
His writings — poetry, theatre, history, and his autobiographical accounts all had one purpose: to inspire a strong revolutionary spirit and enlist more people to the national cause. This is why his works often sound dramatic and his descriptions vivid, as he sought to evoke a martial spirit, offering fulsome praise to others, including himself at times, and are completely unsparing of criticism. One, therefore, needs to study Savarkar’s literature through the prism of his political objectives and the political action he intended to inspire. Shourie, or anyone for that matter, is justified in criticizing Savarkar for displaying a lack of modesty when describing his own deeds and works. Shourie, however, doesn’t stop at that but seeks to speculate on the personality of Savarkar.
Shourie then preposterously contends that Savarkar’s high opinion of himself eventually led him to believe that he was not getting enough due for his work, further resulting in hatred around one man — Gandhi. To quote Shourie, “…the disappointment mutated into frustration, that into sullen gloom, that into bitterness, that putrefied into hatred. And hatred, as we shall see, came to centre on one man – Gandhi”. And what is the proof for this speculation? Nothing but Shourie’s own bitterness, one might conclude!
This brings us to the point that sums up Shourie’s assumptions. One interviewer quizzed Shourie: “Why is Savarkar the new icon? Why is Savarkar being resurrected now?” Firstly, the question itself assumes that he is “suddenly being resurrected” by his followers — as if Savarkar had been forgotten all these years. But Shourie says that all this is being done now to erase the legacy of Gandhi!
There is nothing to suggest that Savarkar is being resurrected by his supporters. Savarkar always continued to be a major source of inspiration for his followers — despite his uncomfortable positions on certain issues regarding Hindu religion — and has always been an “icon,” though for six decades of Nehruvian/Congress rule he had been sought to be demonized and vilified. It was in 2003 that the Vajpayee government installed the portrait of Savarkar in the Central Hall of Parliament. Also, Shourie should remember the kind of protests that erupted against Mani Shankar Aiyar when he ordered removed the plaque honoring Savarkar from the Cellular Jail in the Andamans, which was restored by the government again in 2015. The speech of Vajpayee, which is quoted by Shourie in the book, goes back to 1996. There was a time when leaders and scholars across the ideological and political spectrum respected Savarkar for his contribution to the freedom struggle. From Indira Gandhi at the national level to Sharad Pawar in his home state of Maharashtra, many had spoken highly of Savarkar for his contribution to the nation. It is true that some establishment historians of modern India may not have given him the due that he deserved, but that can’t be an argument against his admirers.
At the governmental level, the appreciation is more visible now for obvious reasons, but at a more popular level, he was never forgotten or was a “nobody” as Shourie would have us believe. However, if anyone is resurrecting him, arguably, it’s his detractors, led by the likes of Rahul Gandhi and political and intellectual comrades around him, who suddenly brought in the issue of “mercy petitions.” That has certainly sparked a debate, and we will have voices from all quarters responding to it. But if anyone is resurrecting Savarkar, the credit must go to the detractors.
But such is the logic, such are the assumptions, and thus Shourie’s book is driven by a “culture of convenience.” Of course, these are a few symptomatic instances. The book is replete with such inconsistencies, contradictions, and indeed untruths about Savarkar. The book is neither insightful nor informative. What is offered as the new investigation is no more than instigation. Far from being an academic work, it is a very selective and narrow reading of Savarkar, which borders on the hateful and provocative. One assertion becomes a justification for another assertion, exaggeration is the norm, selecting and “out of context quoting” is a carefully used strategy, and unsubstantiated claims are passed on as truths.
Savarkar was indeed a complicated man, and he is indeed a complicated political and historical subject worthy of study. Much of his work and his life can legitimately be problematized and scrutinized with care. Savarkar himself was a votary of such a scientific rigor and approach. But for that, one truly needs to be objective and academic. If you have not read this book and are looking for objective and truly academic work on Savarkar, you are certainly not missing out on anything. Instead, Vikram Sampath’s two-volume tome on Savarkar should help the inquisitive reader learn much more about Savarkar the child, the boy, the young adult, the freedom fighter, the poet, and the revolutionary – a man who has come to be both vilified and celebrated.
