Have you ever considered the weight carried by the words we read and the ideas we encounter, especially when those very expressions are deemed too potent, or too rebellious to be allowed into the public domain?
Banned and Censored: What the British Raj Didn’t Want Us to Read by Devika Sethi invites us to embark on a thought-provoking journey through the forbidden corridors of literature, where the echoes of silenced voices challenge us to question the true essence of freedom of speech.
In a world shaped by the narratives we consume, this anthology beckons readers to pause and ponder: What happens when the pen becomes mightier than the sword, and why does authority tremble in the face of ideas?
In her meticulously curated anthology, Devika Sethi delves into a critical period of Indian history, spanning from 1900 to 1947, when the British colonial rulers wielded the heavy hand of censorship to stifle dissenting voices. In this collection, Sethi takes readers on a journey through the banned texts of iconic figures like Gandhi, Savarkar, Nehru and Bose, shedding light on the multifaceted struggle for freedom, both in thought and expression.
The brilliance of Sethi’s work lies in her unearthing of 75 pieces of writing, deemed subversive and threatening to the British Raj, that paint a vivid picture of the socio-political landscape during the first five decades of the 20th century. The anthology is a linguistic mosaic, drawing from Marathi, Bengali, Gujarati, Punjabi, Urdu, Hindi, Tamil, Telugu, Oriya and English, reflecting the diversity of voices that sought to challenge the colonial narrative.
Divided into five parts, each corresponding to a decade, the book not only exposes the range of ideologies among nationalist leaders but also examines the legal mechanisms employed by the British to quell dissent. The deployment of sections like 124A (sedition) and 153A (inciting class hatred) from the Indian Penal Code is analysed, revealing a systematic suppression of ideas that posed a threat to colonial authority.
Sethi skillfully weaves historical context into the narrative, providing readers with a nuanced understanding of why certain texts faced the banhammer.
A particularly engaging aspect of Sethi’s compilation is the exploration of creative and allegorical pieces that critiqued British rule. Through these banned works, the anthology vividly illustrates the disdain for colonial despotism, heavy taxation and the exploitation of India’s wealth. The inclusion of a Marathi story, “A Durbar in Hell”, a political satire, serves as a poignant example of how writers employed allegory to expose the harsh realities of British rule. (PS: I did try to read the whole story as it was one of the most out-and-about in a very courageous and mildly humorous way).
As the anthology progresses through the decades, it culminates in the ban on Subhas Chandra Bose’s “Testament” in 1946, revealing the continued paranoia of the colonial state even in the twilight of its rule. The narrative skillfully navigates the political landscape, providing a holistic view of the challenges faced by writers and thinkers during this tumultuous period.
Bhikaji Cama’s singular presence among the banned voices in “Banned and Censored” may reflect historical gender biases that marginalised women’s contributions to political discourse.
During the specified period (1900-1947), societal norms often confined women’s public roles, limiting their visibility in nationalist movements. Cama’s inclusion underscores her exceptional courage, challenging gender norms as she advocated for India’s independence. The absence of more women may mirror the systemic hurdles women faced in expressing dissent and engaging in political discourse, emphasising the need to acknowledge and amplify the silenced voices of women who defied societal expectations during a transformative era.
Banned and Censored is not merely a historical account but a mirror reflecting the anxieties and struggles against an oppressive regime. Sethi’s editorial prowess shines as she brings to the forefront voices that were silenced by the colonial state. The book serves as a valuable reference for anyone interested in modern Indian history, laws around sedition, divisive politics, or the evolution of politics in general.
The relevance of Sethi’s anthology not only extends beyond historical exploration, resonating with contemporary debates on freedom of expression and dissent, but also puts the freedom of speech of the world’s largest democracy on trial. The echoes of colonial censorship reverberate in discussions around the challenges faced by writers, journalists, and intellectuals in today’s democratic India. The anthology prompts readers to reflect on the fragility of free speech and the responsibility to protect it.
In conclusion, Banned and Censored: What the British Raj Didn’t Want Us to Read deserves a rating of 4.5/5. Sethi’s meticulous curation, coupled with insightful commentary, elevates the anthology to a significant contribution to the understanding of India’s struggle for intellectual freedom.
Even 76 years after gaining independence, the book serves as a timely reminder of the enduring importance of safeguarding free speech in a vibrant democracy. As contemporary politics grapple with divergent readings of history, Sethi’s work invites readers to ponder the lessons of the past and their implications for the present and future of democratic discourse.
This book has been published by Roli Books