Since the INA and the Ranis never got acknowledged and neither did free India or any organisation take up their cause in Southeast Asia, they simply got ignored.
The struggle of memory over forgetting is the struggle of power, as Milan Kundera has memorably written. Now that the present government has displayed a hologram of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose on Rajpath and started the Republic Day celebrations from 23 January—his birth anniversary—there is joy at his contribution being finally acknowledged at the Centre.
However, let me share some vignettes of my journey across Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand and Burma (Myanmar) recording oral testimonies of our surviving freedom fighters. The Rani of Jhansi Regiment was one of the earliest all-women regiments of the world and Lakshmi Swaminathan Sahgal set it up under the leadership of Bose who was impressed by what General Rose who had defeated the Rani of Jhansi on the battlefield had written: “If there had been a thousand men as brave as the Rani of Jhansi, the British would never have been able to conquer India.” Lakshmi recalled proudly, “We were able to raise fifteen hundred women who volunteered for the cause of India’s freedom”, who were from Malaya, Singapore and Burma. This in 1943 when many women in India were still in purdah, was a revolutionary vision of gender equality in action.
In Kuala Lumpur, I met Janaky (nee) Thevar Nahappan, who after hearing Netaji’s speech at a padang, took off her diamond earrings and gave them to him. She and her sister, Papathy, joined the Rani of Jhansi regiment and Lakshmi persuaded their reluctant father to sign their consent form over tea.
Janaky Thevar gave me a fascinating account of their training in Singapore and the horrific bombing of the Red Cross hospital in Rangoon by the British as well as their efforts to rescue the injured jawans. She became the second person to command the Ranis as Lakshmi was sent to Maymyo in Upper Burma. When the Japanese started to lose the war, it was decided to disband the Ranis and Netaji insisted on walking with the Ranis over a 23-day gruelling march through the tropical jungles of Burma. Janaky’s war diary and photographs of her training constitute important historical evidence of the remarkable contribution of the Ranis. However, she wanted a meeting with the President of India but even her letters went unacknowledged.
Gandhi Nathan, who I interviewed in Kuala Lumpur, was inspired when he heard Netaji’s speech at the Cathay Cinema Hall on 2 July 1943 and volunteered. He was interviewed by Netaji and selected to train at the Imperial Defence Academy in Tokyo. The Tokyo cadets were intended to be the officers of the Azad Hind Fauj in free India for the British-Indian Army had British officers at the top.
When the plane carrying Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose crashed, Habib ur Rahman was present and according to Rahman, Netaji was whisked off to Nanmon Army hospital where he breathed his last; Rahman and doctors were by his side. Rahman brought Netaji’s ashes and Nathan said, he along with the other Tokyo cadets in a solemn procession, placed them at Renkoji temple where they lie even today. To put an end to the unseemly controversy as to whether they are Netaji’s ashes, a DNA test can be done to establish it. The ashes of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose should be brought to India and laid to rest.
After the Japanese lost the war, Gandhi Nathan and the others were taken to Manila and then by ship to Hong Kong. On the voyage they were not given any food for three days. On reaching, they were locked up in Stanley prison in solitary confinement for two months. On arriving in India at Madras, the INA was given a reception at Woodland’s hotel but Nathan, who wanted to join the Indian Military Academy, was denied admission. After searching for a job in India fruitlessly, he returned to Malaya but his heart always beat for India.
In Singapore, I met Bhagyalakshmi Davies, who joined the Ranis because she thought it was “better to die for a cause than to marry a man I do not like”. She told me how human Netaji was when one of the Ranis, Lavanya, lost her husband at the front. She wondered why the Ranis had never been recognised.
On the idyllic island of Penang, I met Dhannalakshmi and Anjali Suppiah, who were two of the three sisters who had joined the Ranis. Their father was denied a promotion because of their involvement but they were happy, indeed proud to have served the cause. In Prai, I met Kannusamy. When I asked him why he had gone to fight for the freedom of India when he had never set foot on its soil, he lost his temper: “It is a funny question to ask an Indian, once an Indian always an Indian.”
However, since the INA and the Ranis never got acknowledged and neither did free India or any organisation take up their cause in Southeast Asia, they simply got ignored. Men find their way but the women faced the brunt; Ahilandam, a Rani who got married and had eleven children, had no support. It was ironical she could work towards defeating the British empire but be oppressed by patriarchy. She wanted and certainly deserves a pension as do all the Ranis. Surely, free India can give a letter of appreciation to the freedom fighters in Southeast Asia as also due pension. It is a richly deserved pension and they are after all only a handful alive today.
In Bangkok I met Beant Singh Kukreja, Raj Kumar Sachdeva and Kishen Lal Matta—all members of the Balak Sena—too young to join the INA but willing to train.
Finally, my visit to Burma (Myanmar) was a revelation. I met Perumal, who had served the INA but was stateless. He was, however, extremely proud to have served the cause of India’s freedom. He said, “Desh ke vaaste kiya”—did it for the country. In Maymyo, I met D.R. Sharma, who wept uncontrollably. He said, ‘In sixty years no one came, I am so happy someone has come from India to record my contribution.’ All he wished for was a certificate so that his “children and grandchildren would know that their grandfather had fought for the cause of India”. I met many unknown people of the INA in Ziawaddy and Kchautaga, all of whom had fought and sacrificed for the freedom of India but were never recognised.
Many members of the INA in Burma were without citizenship of either Myanmar or India—the country whose freedom they had fought for. They were penniless; their children and grandchildren were also stateless. The Government of India must work with the government of Myanmar and accord them citizenship—the fundamental right of any human being let alone a freedom fighter.
Since 1997, the “Hamaara Itihaas” archive has been recording oral testimonies of freedom fighters and we now plan to collate and digitise it to share it with the people of India in the hope that the values and sacrifice of those who fought for our freedom are remembered. Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose’s contribution must be recognised by acknowledging the surviving INA and members of the Rani of Jhansi Regiment. The government must give the surviving few a letter and a pension with due respect and dignity. The call for “Dilli Challo!” had many who sacrificed; may Netaji be on Rajpath but do not inscribe him alone in granite. Let it be a hologram and let the hologram rotate; follow it every few months with the others—Lakshmi Sahgal, Janaky Thevar and our unknown but heroic freedom fighters—inspiring generations to work for true freedom.
Sagari Chhabra is director of the “Hamaara Itihaas” archives. Her book, “In Search of Freedom: Journeys across India & Southeast Asia” was awarded the national Laadli media award.