26 MANUSHI

The Bengali Bhadramahila—Forms of Organisation in the Early Twentieth Century

THIS work concentrates on thebhadramahila in Bengal, acceptingBorthwick’s definition of them as “themothers, wives and daughters of the manyschool masters, lawyers, doctors andgovernment servants who made up theEnglish-educated professional Bengalimiddle class or bhadralok.’”

Though the British parliament in 1919left the question of women’s vote to the

elected legislatures of India, in Bengalwomen got the vote only in 1925. Until1931, a woman was qualified to vote onlyif she was the wife of a man who heldproperty and was over 25, or if she was aholder of property in her own right. Thisleft the women’s electorate in theproportion of one woman to every 26 menin Bengal.

In 1931 the franchise sub-committee

These extracts from a dissertation by Indrani Chatterjee look at some of the forms oforganisation that developed among women of the educated middle and upper classes in earlytwentieth century Bengal. This kind of organising helped women of the Bengali middle andupper classes to emerge from seclusion, to develop a life outside the family, and to identifythemselves with social and political causes. The author is continuing her work in this area. Theideas expressed here are based on her work up to 1986.

*Bhadralok in Bengali indicates the“respectable”, the educated and cultured, that isthe middle and upper classes, as distinguished fromthe chhotolok, the “small people” or the poorer,lower classes. Bhadramahila are the women ofthe bhadralok. The bhadralok played animportant role in the nineteenth century culturalrenaissance in Bengal and the social reformmovements there which took, up women’s issues,amongst others.

of the Round Table Conferencebroadened the qualifications to include

The Indian women’s deputation to Mntague and Chelmsford, 1917,demanding the vote for women

No. 45, March-April, 1988

literacy. It was estimated that 377,000 morewomen above the age of 21 would get thevote under this scheme and that the totalnumber of women voters would be1,500,000. But, as the figures for the 1937elections showed, there were only 896,588women enrolled as voters, of whom only46,758 actually voted. Even when the rightwas granted to women to contest theCalcutta Corporation elections in 1933, theactuality of their experience contrastedwith the notion of their empowerment.

As Jyotirmoyee Ganguli, one of the twosuccessful women candidates, recounted,one elderly gentleman wanted to know“...will that woman sweep the roads andclean the drains that you have comebrandishing the fact before me ?” This,she was sure, had never been asked of themale candidates, nor had they compliedwith such demands. Manikuntala Sen, too,recalled the allocation of a ticket to her bythe Communist Party of India on theground that they had no suitable malecandidate for that region.

In the 1930s, women formed andjoined different kinds of associations,all of which can be termed political. Thesewere years of increased student unrest.As education became a transferred subjectand opportunities increased, the avenuesof employment failed to keep pace. Largesections of youth reverted to traditions ofrevolutionary terrorism. The traditionalrivalry of the two principal terrorist groups,the Jugantar and Anushilan, was echoedin the rivalry between Subhash Bose andJ.M. Sengupta in the Bengal Congress. TheGandhian call for civil disobedience foundeach of them setting up rival organisationsto conduct the movement in Bengal, andwasting much energy in Calcuttacorporation electioneering even at theheight of the movement.

Gandhi’s choice of salt brought thestruggle into the home. His attack on liquorand foreign cloth and his avowal of khadiproved important for mobilisation ofwomen. If jail going is any indication,many more women went to jail in thismovement than had done so during thenoncooperation movement of 1921-22. The

premium on visibility that the movementreinforced had gathered momentum fromthe turn of the century, through the spreadof Western education and associationalactivity.

Higher EducationAt this time, a more formal kind of

education was becoming more and moreaccessible to the Bengali bhadramahilaas the increased numbers of girls insecondary English schools and in collegesshow. An official report commented : “...Acurious development in the social usage,especially amongst the educated middle

education “closer to life” found in thegovernment their champions. This entaileda heavier emphasis on humanities, arts andcrafts than on the sciences. Even in 1936-37 there was “no well equipped laboratoryin any Indian girls’ school in Bengal.”

Despite its limitations, women’seducation did take a significant stepforward. That its importance was realisedby women themselves is evident in thefounding of women’s educationalassociations. The Nari Shiksha Samitistarted in 1919 with the object of impartingsuch education to girls and women aswould make them “helpful wives andmothers and useful members of societyand enable them to earn an honest livingin case of need.” Under the supervision ofAbala Bose, it founded about 40 girls’schools in Calcutta by 1929, started aHindu widows’ home in 1922 called theVidyasagar Bani Bhawan which trainedwidows as teachers or nurses, and openedan industrial school for women in 1926called the Manila Shilpa Bhandar.

The Vidyasagar Bani Bhawan in 1928put students of the two highest classesthrough a short intensive course oflessons in teaching. Then three of themwere put in charge of three separateschools situated in the interior. Thisexperiment was well spoken of by theassistant inspectress of schools, Daccacircle, after inspecting the schools.

One of these students, Shantilata Das,assessing her work in a predominantlyMuslim village of Manickgunj district,Dacca, said: “The condition of those girlsis very saddening. There is considerableenthusiasm to learn but...(the parents)constantly burden their daughters withhousework and pay no heed to theireducation. Their only thought is to equiptheir daughters for marriage...as if that isthe sole aim of a woman’s life. If the girlssit down to study or mention the school,they are reprimanded with questions like :‘Are you going to become a memsahib ?Will you earn money by it ?’ and sometimesthey are beaten as well. The girls live inconstant fear ; very often, they run awayto school without even eating...” Her

A BENGALI GIRL STUDENT

Nineteenth century illustration byHerbert Johnson for a book by an

English missionary

class Hindus, is that the possession of aUniversity degree seems now to increasethe eligibility of a girl for marriage.” Thedrive for female education resulted in anincrease of schools, but the direction ofthis change was evident from the fact thatthe rate of increase was greater forsecondary English schools and collegesthan the rate of increase in primaryschools. It was also true that many moregirls entered primary school thancompleted it.

The interest in women’s highereducation was contemporaneous with aheated debate over the curriculum for girls’education. All those who felt that girlsshould be compulsorily taught cooking,needle work and housewifery to bring their

28 MANUSHI

colleague in the venture, Charubala Sarkar,did not find any substantial difference inattitude in a predominantly Baidya-Kayastha Hindu populated village. Nor, forthat matter, did the third colleague,Indubala Gupta, in a Brahman dominatedvillage.

It would seem that education forwomen retained its urban bias and thathostility to female education was notentirely absent from lives of women evenin towns. Shova Ghosh, whose in-lawsallowed her to continue her studies aftermarriage, recounted in her book Aaj O TaruPicchu Dake, 1981, her embarrassment instudying at home, lest people think “thishousewife only sits with books in her handand does not do any housework.... Whenthe school coach used to come to thecorner of the street and the coachman usedto call‘Gari aya baba’ and I used to covermy head with the end of my sari and boardthe bus, the windows of houses on bothsides of the street would open and theneighbouring women would starecuriously at a housewife going tocollege...I realised that this society thoughtbetter if married women worked at homerather than study.”

The ideology of housewifisationattacked girls at an early age. The routineand rituals of housework in a bighousehold, as recounted by some womenin their autobiographies, seem to havebeen a time consuming process. Theinvisibility and lack of mobility implied inthe keeping of parda was a major hurdlein the acquisition of education by women.Manikuntala Sen in her Sediner Katha.1982, describes how when she studied incollege, she sat behind a wooden partitionin the classroom, and looked through asmall hole to see the teacher. Even whenin high school, she realised that girls couldnot walk around in public, not even to andfrom school. It was only when she cameto Calcutta that she saw women movearound unescorted in public transport.Shova, who travelled by tram toBhowanipur with her husband, waswarned by a relative that this was“unseemly” behaviour. Though she had

a harmonium and loved singing, she hadto close the windows before singing, as itwas considered “shameless.” Yet,theconventions governing bhadramahilabehaviour were themselves in flux at thistime, as is seen in controversies carried onin newspapers where some readers arguedfor abolition of the parda and criticisedmen for harassing women travelling bypublic transport.

understanding of this notion was crucialto the debate. Amiya Debi said : “...swadhinata cannot be given, it has to betaken by force. If women really want it,they have to agitate and fight for itthemselves—it is only natural that menwill want to obstruct them.”(Bangalakshmit 1931) She compared thereforms carried out by the British

“We will amass strength, stand on our own feet and in physicalbravery and mental strength be equal to men.”

There was also an ongoing debateon women’s property rights, The generalunderstanding seemed to be that dowrywas a form of compensation for women’slack of inheritance rights. But some voiceswere raised against dowry, Kamala Boseand Giribala Ray being the mostvociferous. Kamala argued that “themajority of Bengalee fathers have noproperty or money at all to partwith...Moreover, the money that is givenas dowry does not go to the bride at all, inmajority of cases it fills the pocket of herfather-in-law.” Giribala Ray, the author,while protesting dowry system, advocatedequal education for girls and boys.

Although a dominant theory at this timewas that education would make womenbetter wives and mothers, some arguedagainst the view. Shanta Devi emphaticallyasserted that women were to be educatedto take full responsibility for themselves.She decried the notion that “with marriage,all the problems of her life have beensolved...A daughter may not marry at all;even if she does, she should be able to lookafter herself, choose her own professionand have mental and economicindependence,” (Bangalakshmi, 1928)

The Idea Of FreedomEducation thus came to be viewed as a

gateway to freedom or swadhinata. The

Education came to be viewed asthe gateway to freedom

government to the measures taken byIndian men for women : “the givers ofswadhinata do so only because they wantslightly more refined and well manneredwomen... The responsibility for thisswadhinata cannot be with well wishingmen...If it does, then adhinata alone isstrengthened.” (Bijoli, August 4; 1922).

Amiyabal Bandhopadhyay elaboratedthe point : “And no more do we want to bedirected and controlled by someoneelse...After revolting against her husbandtoo, a woman’s life can be meaningful,rejection of a tyrannical father’s dictateson marriage can still leave a daughtersome respect, and a mother’s disregard ofher son’s, control still leaves hervenerable. We will be swadhin, we willamass strength, stand on our own feet andin physical bravery and mental strengthwe will be equal to men... We want to tearaway this mayajal of pativratya and befully human.”(Bijoli, August 11, 1922)

As Urmila Devi, one of the early womenactivists in Bengal, put it, swaraj meantself rule and swadhinata the “strength andpower to fulfil all our needs ourselves.” Itis not difficult, therefore, to understandthe intimate connection they madebetween women’s rights and the nationalmovement. Shantisudha Ghosh, in anarticle in Banglar-Katha, October 28, 1921,ridiculed those who called themselvesfreedom loving patriots but castigatedwomen’s efforts to emancipatethemselves: “Those who resist thisagitation by saying it engenders conflict

No. 45, March-April, 1988

between men and women and thus bodesimmense ill for society—to them we canonly reply that can well be said of thenational movement also. The conflictbetween the Englishman and the Indian isproving harmful to both; two races of theworld, instead of living peaceably, areimmersed in severe fraternal strife—to befree from this, it would be best to

Many knowledgeable men (feel) thatmen...alone should determine the roadwhich women should take. Here, we haveonly one question : When the Englishrulers continually repeat this on the issueof India’s sovereignty, can any patrioticIndian believe or accept them ?”

At the core of this argument was theconsciousness of the contradictions

Women of Shantiniketan with Gandhiji, Kasturba and Tagore. Many Bengaliwomen went to Shantinekta for an education in the arts and this traditions still

continues.

ungrudgingly accept dependence uponthe English ! But in the sphere of nationalpolitics, everyone clearly realises theinvalidity of this logic.”

Shantisudha went on to argue, whenit was suggested that instead of erectingthe “flag of battle” against men, womenshould acquire their rights through debateand discussion : “Sovereignty is such athing that nobody will voluntarilysurrender it. Swadhinata is such a thingthat cannot be attained by begging. Ithas to be grasped on the basis of one’sown strength. This rule cannot be waivedfor men. Wishing to do good to woman,man has enclosed her within a small placeand is ruling there as her ‘protector’...

implicit in applying different rules for thepublic and the private worlds. The issuesof shiksha and swadhinata were centrallylinked to the issue of what woman’s spherewas, aptly expressed in the term “ghare-baire.”

The nationalist struggle sought toextend the private into the public by seeingthe country as “home” and the people as“children” or “family” so that all social andpolitical work could seem an extension ofhousehold work in which women couldlegitimately participate. The, metaphor ofthe extended family provided a guidelinealong which women were meant to act.

Yet women also made other efforts toextend the arena of their activities, of which

the organisation of the Manila Samitis wasan example. These organisations havebeen very little studied. It has been takenas self evident that they did not constitutepolitical activity. Yet it is in such efforts bywomen to come to terms with public actionthat the search for political meaning shouldbe undertaken.

The Mahila SamitisThe initiator of the movement to

organise Mahila Samitis in Bengal wasSaroj Nalini Dutt, wife of a civil servant.Shudha Mazumdar, one of Saroj’sassociates, gave a personalised accountof the beginning of this social interactionamongst the “wives of the leading men ofthe town.” Its aim, according to her, wasto “help foster a better understandingbetween them and break the monotony oftheir secluded lives. As women in thosedays rarely visited each other except onformal occasions such as births, deaths,marriages or when invited to religiousceremonies, social life was confined tothese events mainly amongst one’s ownrelations. Women of gentle birth rarelystirred out of their homes for any otherpurpose, and no matter how near theirdestination, they travelled in closedvehicles.”

It seems that these efforts of womento develop a kin devoid identity were notalways favourably received by theirfamilies. As Shudha was to recount later:“Most of the local gentlemen...felt this newmovement would be the death-knell offamily life and that it foretold nothing butdiscord and disruption in their home. Theywere firmly convinced that the womenwould abandon their household duties,neglect husband and children, break awayfrom the seclusion of their home andeventually, compete with them in theirspheres,of work.” Indira Ghosh, memberof the Malda Mahila Samiti, reported:“...some (men) remarked that new fashions,new dresses and new names would beushered into society by these women’sorganisations and that the poor fathers andhusbands would be at their wits’ end toprovide for the new luxuries demanded bythe women.”

30 MANUSHI

For many women, even the minimumwherewithal necessary for organisationwas hard to come by. If the meetinghappened to fall at the end of the month,which by all accounts it did, it proved tobe a deterrent, since housewives couldnot afford the cost of hiring hackneycarriages then. Nor could they provide aplentiful fare when their turns came to behostess.

Women impelled themselves along bymaking a resource of ritual and tradition.For example, at Suri, the inaugurationmeeting of the Mahila Samiti saw thepresence of many “orthodox ladies”despite the stout opposition of theirmenfolk. When they declinedrefreshments, (presumably prepared bythe nontwiceborn) Saroj Nalini Dutt, aleading member, led them to a tent in acorner of the spacious ground, where herhusband’s head clerk, an orthodoxBrahman, had arranged sliced fruit,sweets and sherbet, all served in terracottadishes. When they were convinced thatthe food had not been touched and thuscontaminated either by Saroj Nalini or herservants, and that the Brahman clerk hadobserved all orthodox rules of cleanliness,they no longer hesitated to accept thehospitality provided ; it was a “victoryscored over the orthodox section of thetown.”

Similarly, in a confrontation betweenan old gentleman of Birbhum and SarojNalini, the latter is reported to have said :“...‘is it not a fact that even at the presenttime in Bengal, a housewife in referring toher work always speaks of her‘gharsansar’ (gltar-home; sansar-world).’ The answer was...in theaffirmative. ‘This conclusively proves’,asserted Saroj Nalini, ‘that in the old timesthe woman’s legitimate sphere of work inour country was considered to be not thehome alone but the world as well as thehome...In the course of time the men ofour country in their blind andshortsighted selfishness persuaded thewomen to believe that their world wassynonymous with...the four walls of theirhomes and to confine their activities and

outlook ...The men have made a hopelessmess of everything. It is the women alonewho can set things right now.’ ”

This appeal to tradition contrastedeffectively with the content of themessage. An elderly Hindu lady who hadseveral daughters-in-law under her carewas reported to have said to Saroj: “...I

and discussion” to looking outwardstogether. Thus, they began to makepatchwork squares for Indian soldiers inthe war to play pachisi, bundles of nimtwigs to be used as toothbrushes bythem, raising money for a female bed inthe local hospital, then pressing for a ladydoctor and getting one. Such activities

“A Calcutta Zenana”, nineteenth century illustration by Herbert Johnson for abook on Indian women by an English missionary women

prefer to remain within the sphere of myhome and cannot go about the worldleaving these things.” Saroj replied : “Awoman can learn a great deal even whileremaining within the sphere of home.That is exactly why a Mahila Samiti isneeded. It will bring the knowledge of thesciences to the very doors of the women.It will also be a meeting-place of womenand home-makers...a woman cannot shutherself off within the home....”

Originally characterised by the displayand discussion of saris and ornaments,exchange of cooking recipes and designsfor needlework, these meetings becameslowly more organised. By 1920, a set ofrules had been drafted in Bengali by theBirbhum Samiti, a minute book wasprepared to jot down proceedings, andthe members had moved from “display

established the credibility of theorganisations and they began to belooked upon with respect.

Central OrganisationThe idea of founding a central:

organisation to coordinate the work ofthe small organisations already existingin the districts had taken shape in SarojNalini’s mind by 1921. As she said: “InCalcutta men and women get so absorbedwith the city life that they forget the realcountry outside. The thought...of themiseries and pains of the thousands ofvillagers, of the suffering of the millionsof women caused by social, economic,and physical wrongs, does not touchtheir hearts...a central Mahila Samiti tounite the whole womanhood of Bengalinto a corporate life.”

As she envisaged it, this central

No. 45, March-April, 1988

organisation was to give information onhow to organise a Mahila Samiti, was toprovide speakers, supply model rules andhelpful literature, assist in securing expertdemonstrators and lecturers with magiclantern slides and so on. But this centralbody was to leave the local Mahila Samitisentirely free to manage their own fundsand undertake whatever work seemedbest suited to the locality.

Saroj, who was also a member of theBengal Presidency Council of Women(BCW), discussed her scheme with thevicepresident of the BCW, proposing thatthe latter take up the work of the centralMahila Samiti federation. However, thepresident of the BCW, Countess ofLytton, vetoed it. Saroj’s husband, G.S.Dutt, too, has recorded his attempts todissuade her from the task as he felt itwas “too ambitious to put into effectwithout the support of some existing andinfluential organisation.”

Saroj then proposed to Abala Bose,president of the Nari Shiksha Samiti, thatthis organisation take up the task. AbalaBose suggested that the Nari ShikshaSamiti could set up a new section for thiswork, which would be supervised by Sarojherself. Saroj consented, but before thescheme could become functional, shedied, in January 1925. Her husbandannounced a donation amounting to Rs5,000 for the founding of the centralorganisation.

On February 23, 1925, the Saroj NaliniDutt Memorial Association (SNDMA)was formally constituted. The SNDMAcharged a yearly fee of Rs 3 for affiliationof a local Mahila Samiti. Generally, eachMahila Samiti, in turn charged asubscription fee ranging from four annasto a rupee a year from each of its members.

The SNDMA grew rapidly. In 1925,there were only seven to eight MahilaSamitis affiliated to it, but by 1929, therewere 240 such Samitis with a totalmembership of 4,640 women. It had alsoacquired a staff of 13 instructresses, whocoordinated between it and the Samitis.And it had established the Bangalakshmias its monthly organ, besides an

Delegates to the joint conference of the International Council of Women and theNational Council of Women, Calcutta, 1936

Industrial Training School at Calcuttawhich had 200 pupils by 1930, and aschool of general nursing which had 30pupils by the same year.

The SNDMA’s methods of raisingfinances were rather ingenious. Besidesthe Rs 450 and Rs 650 per month conferredby the government of Bengal towards itsrural programme and the industrial schoolrespectively, and the Rs 500 per monthreceived from the Calcutta Corporation, italso took to selling lotuses on a chosenday. By 1931, this practice was formalisedto coincide with the death anniversary ofSaroj Nalini —January 19. In that year,earnings from lotus sales were Rs 900.

Forms Of ActivityThe association emphasised

increasing women’s self reliance throughemployment. The industrial school taughtsewing, embroidery, lace making, carpetweaving, canework, drawing and music.Both schools were explicitly aimed at“finding a new avenue of employment forwidows and distressed women of theBhadralok class.”

The industrial school organised annualexhibitions to sell the finished goods. Theannual exhibition in January 1929 wasnoteworthy for the vow taken by all theattending women “not to buy their dresses

from the market during marriage and otherceremonies in their respective houses butto have these things made from therespective Mahila Samitis.”

It is true that the concept of a wageearning woman as an independent entityin her own right was not formulated; butthis avenue did bring some gains to awoman of the bhadralok who previouslyhad not engaged in any commercialtransaction. The lady from Salkia, Howrah,who, under the auspices of the local ManilaSamiti, managed to earn Rs 115.56 during1921-29, despite her heavy domestic work,is a case in point.

On March 7, 1930, the SNDMA alsotook over the Basantakumari Bidhbashramin Puri, which the wife of Sir P.C. Chatterjeehad established with a building and amoderate financial endowment. Widowsbetween the ages of 20 and 30 years, andwithout “encumbrances” could apply fora three year course in general education.No fee was charged, except from residentialstudents who paid Rs 10 per month.

By 1930, many Mahila Samitisassociated with the SNDMA had startedusing magic lantern shows for propagandaagainst diseases, for child and maternitywelfare and introduced zenana schoolsand study circles. While the discussions

32 MANUSHI

at meetings of some of these Samitiscentred around “home sanitation, betterunderstanding of the economic andhygienic value of food, more scientificcare of children”, that is, on makingwomen better wives and mothers, theyalso sometimes aimed at making thembetter citizens. The secretaries of theSamitis at Bantra, Bally, Talla, Hooghly,Madaripur and Satsang reported in 1929that their members were inducing the mento take up, in their spare hours, the workof village reconstruction by establishingcooperative societies.

Thakurgaon and Balurghat Mahila Samitis; the members of the latter were amongthe first to organise funds for the defenceof the undertrial Meerut prisoners, at atime when the Bengal Pradesh CongressCommittee itself was not doing much forthis. In May 1930 the Balurghat Samitihanded over Rs 35 and five annas to thecivil disobedience fund. The Samiti atBoalia, Rajshahi, resolved to raise fundsfor a memorial to Jatin Das, an undertrialin the Bengal Ordinance case, who diedafter 63 days of fasting in jail. The badgesand flowers for the volunteers at theRangpur session of the Bengal ProvincialConference were supplied by the MulatolaMahila Samiti.

The links between local Congresscommittees and the Mahila Samitis inBengal have not been studied at all. Butthe evidence of such links is irrefutable.Charuprava Sen, president of the MahilaSamiti at Rajbari, Faridpur, was aprominent Congress worker as well. InJuly 1930, she was served with summonsfor allegedly inciting the police to giveup service. At Feni, the Mahila Samitimembers met to bless the convictedyoung Congressmen with the traditionalkhai, cliandan, dhan and durba, beforesending them off to jail ; the members hadalso taken a solemn vow not to use foreigncloth from that day. Suniti Bala Das,secretary of the Mahila Samiti atChhotolekha, Karimganj, was invited bythe Barlika Central Congress Committeeto speak at one of its meetings.

One of the most prominent examplesof the Mahila Samiti Congress connectionwas Ashalata Sen. Widowed at 22, shewas inspired by her relatives to train inthe khadi programme. In 1922, she, incooperation with Sushila Sen, GiribalaDevi, Sarama Gupta and Saraju Gupta,started the Gandharia

Mahila Samiti. In 1929, these friendsopened a school for Harijarr children at aneighbouring village. When the saltsatyagraha began, they organised theSatyagrahi Sevika Dal to mobilise women’ssupport for the movement in Dacca. TheGandharia Mahila Samiti was successful

enough to have required: banning in 1932,along with other organisations connectedwith civil disobedience. Ashalata knewshe could not have come this far alone.While in prison in 1932-33, she wrote onher prison mates :

“Darkness piles upon darkness.at dead of nightMy fellow prisoners are all asleepOn hard beds,in soiled clothes,lie rows of them,The Lakshmis of so manyfamilies in this prison todayI look at my prison mates thisdark nightAnd my heart fills with swellingpride,With a strange sorrowful happiness.”

Support StructuresIt is interesting to speculate that many

of the bhadramahila who joined theGandhian movement had already hadsome experience of collective action-through the Mahila Samitis. The MahilaSamitis had developed into supportstructures that enabled members to actfor the benefit of others. A report fromthe Talla Mahila Samiti said : “Previousto the formation of a Mahila Samiti atTalla, the women of this locality wereentire strangers to one another, but as aresult of the influence exerted by theSamiti, they have now become fast friendsand they visit one another at frequentintervals. It is almost as if all of them havebeen joined into one great family.Members now help one another in timesof danger and difficulties in theirrespective families.... Previously, it wasan impossible thing for a lady to gooutside the precincts of her home withouta conveyance but such has been theinfluence of our Samiti in breaking downthe old timidity and false sense of dignitythat now most of us go to one another’shouse by walking on foot.”

Shudha too recounted an incidentwhich occurred at a women’s meeting ina village in Dacca in 1926. A veryyoung widow approached Shudha andasked to retouch her vermilion. A worldof sentiment enfolds the vermilion, and

Bengali nationalist leader ChiitaranjanDas with his wife

Nationalist AwarenessAn awareness of immediate environs

was gradually aroused— an awarenessthat could, potentially, embrace remoterissues. Thus, it is not surprising to findmembers of the Samitis exhorting eachother to spin at home, wear khadi andgive up foreign clothes, at the same timethat they started training in sword, lathiand dagger play. That the larger currentin the country’had not left themuntouched was evident. The frequencywith which Samitis were established innew regions was itself an indicator ofheightened awareness in the post 1928period.

Activists like Jyotirmoyee Ganguliwere invited to address meetings of the

No. 45, March-April, 1988

the act of retouching it is a ritual blessingbetween married women alone. For awidow to have retouched anotherwoman’s vermilion was an unusualexample of bonding.

It would be a mistake to dismiss theMahila Samiti members as apolitical or asjust lady social workers. The Samitis werethe expression of two interwoven themesthat of “the home and the world”, andthat of “coming together.”

Even though the annual meetings of

concluded that every such teachershould become a member of a MahilaSamiti for companionship and mutual aid.

Terrorist GroupsIn contrast, women (most of them were

bhadramahilas) who joined revolutionaryterrorist groups, which are more commonlyacknowledged as “political”, experiencedgreater isolation. Joining the group, theywere inducted into activity, but this didnot facilitate their developing links outsidethe family which could act as support

in September 1932 also evokes the strugglethis 21 year old woman had with herselfand her family : “...Ma, please forgive me—I have pained you very deeply... You havewanted to reach out with love and gatherme to your breast—I have snatched myselfaway—you have pleaded with me holdingthe food laden plate in your hand —I haveturned my back on you and left. ...For twodays, I have made you weep—your pitifullaments have not moved me from mychosen path. How could your Rani havebeen so heartless ? Forgive me, mother !Please forgive me !”

This solitariness in action was perhapsmore severe because of the collectivity thathad preceded it. Most of these women hadbeen members either of the Deepali Sanghaor the Chhatri Sangha before they joinedthe revolutionary terrorist groups. TheDeepali Sangha was begun by Leela Nagand 12 others in 1928 with the aim ofspreading female education in Dacca. Itsoon claimed 12 primary schools, threehigh schools for girls, classes to preparegirls for matriculation, physical fitnessclasses, industrial training centres, a femalestudents’ association and, in 1930, awomen’s hostel in Calcutta.

The Sangha was originally closer tothe Gandhian movement. In 1930, Leela,along with Renu Sen, ShakuntalaChowdhury and Bina Ray, organised theDacca Mahila Satyagraha Samiti tomanufacture salt and spread the Gandhianmessage through magic lantern shows. Italso began Jayashree, a journal managedand produced by women for women. Thisorganisation’s contact with therevolutionary Shree Sangha began in 1924when Leela Nag asked a former classmatefor assistance with an industrial exhibition.When Anil Ray, one of the more prominentmembers of the Shree Sangha, was arrestedin 1930, Leela took over the direction ofthe Sangha’s activities until she too wasarrested in 1931.

The Chhatri Sangha was formed inCalcutta in 1928 by Kalyani Das, SuramaMitra and Kamala Dasgupta. It organisedstudy circles, literary clubs, cooperative

It would be a mistake to dismiss the Mahila Samiti membersas a political or just lady social workers

the SNDMA were glittering, aristocracy-bureaucracy studded events, one of itssecretaries, Labanyalekha Chakravarty,addressing a Mahila Samiti at Jhenidah,Jessore, urged them not to “only spendtheir whole energies in the discharge oftheir domestic duties but to grow in mindand body as to build up a perfectwomanhood for the physical, moral andeconomic emancipation of the country.”

In their charitable work of helping sickand poor women, and arranging themarriages of daughters of poor widows,the Samitis sometimes acted in a mannerwhich cut across class and community.At Barasat, the Samiti gave shelter to a“fallen woman of the untouchable class”; the members not only nursed her butarranged for her last rites. At Malda, whena fire burnt down many huts in theMohammedan quarters, members of theSamiti, most of whom were Hindus, gaveshelter to the women and children. Thesecretary of the Jaduboyra Samiti, a “highcaste Brahman lady of orthodox family”,set apart a well ventilated room in herhouse for poor women to give birth, andherself acted as midwife at the deliveriesof several women of lower castes.

One also realises the importance ofsuch a support structure from anautobiographical article on women schoolteachers in Bengal. Complaining about theisolation that was inherent in living inareas remote from Calcutta, the writer

structures.As Bina Das, the student who shot at

Governor Jackson at the Senate Hall,Calcutta, in 1932, said : “I did not evenknow whether the group (with which shewas associated) was big or small.Everything was covered over with deepsecrecy and mystery; no questioning wasallowed, personal questions werecompletely prohibited. The peopleSuhasini (Ganguli) took us to meet, theirnames too I was not permitted to know.One day, while Suhasini and I weretravelling in a bus, my eyes fell on anenvelope in her hand. Immediately, she putthe envelope away. At first, I felt insulted—then I realised that this was the way I hadto make myself strong.”

Kamala Dasgupta, member of theJugantar group responsible for theDalhousie Square snooting and anassociate of Bina, also had to struggle tocome to terms with the loneliness of beinga member of a secret organisation. Theiremotional struggles with, and subsequentseparation from, their families,compounded the feelings of loneliness.Both Bina and Kamala recorded instancesof very painful struggles with their parentsafter they joined revolutionaryorganisations which made it imperative forthem to move out of their homes intohostels in Calcutta.

The one surviving letter from PreetilataWaddedar to her mother, written the nightbefore the raid on Pahartali European Club

34 MANUSHI

stores, libraries and a youth hostel. Thistoo was associated with the Gandhianmovement. In 1930, Kalyani led the ChhatriSangha in a demonstration outsideBethune College and in picketing outsidePresidency College. Kalyani was also afounding member of the Nari SatyagrahaSamiti which organised the boycott offoreign clothes in Burrabazar.

The almost concurrent contact of theseassociations with both the Gandhianmovement and the revolutionary terroristgroups is interesting. It is reflected in thelives of women like Bimal Protia Banerjee.While acting as joint secretary of the NariSatyagraha Samiti in 1930-31, she also soldpictures of those killed in the Jalalabadshoot out, in order to raise money for thedefence of the Chittagong armoury raiders.She was arrested in 1931 for herinvolvement in the Manicktola dacoitycase. Though freed for lack of evidence,she was immediately rearrested as a detenuand imprisoned for six years.

Sisterhood In JailIt is therefore significant that the

revolutionary terrorist women wroteextensively about their experience in jailsas a time of companionship, a place ofcollective resistance to an order whichsought to strangle and crush their veryimpulse to life. Shanti Das in a chapter titled‘Making a nest in prison’ in her book ArunBonhi talked feelingly of some particularfriendships formed in each jail—of KalyaniDas in the Presidency jail, of CharushilaDevi at Midnapore and other satyagrahiwomen in Dacca. In each instance, she hadfelt that “no differences of opinion hadcome in the way of a meeting of hearts inprison.”

It is also important that she saw this asthe reason for her being shunted from jailto jail. Talking of her experience in Daccajail, where many satyagrahi women hadbeen imprisoned, she said “. Among themthere were three or four of my age. In notime I became friends with them. Theauthorities grew suspicious, fearing thatamongst them too I would sow the seed ofbloody revolution ...That is why I couldnot stay at Dacca but was transferred toRajshahi....”

Kamala too gave evidence of theauthorities’ attempts to segregate theGandhian women from the terrorist women,of the ban on their interaction and thewomen’s secret resistance to this inPresidency jail. Inmates of this latter, infact, told Bina that their being together hadstopped the authorities from inhumanlytorturing any one of them. The defence ofthis togetherness surfaced clearly inMidnapore jail, where Shanti’s friend, 15year old Suniti Chowdhury was lodged asa Division III prisoner. When the DivisionII prisoners—among whom Shanti andBina figured— were given their morningmeal, the matron insisted on separating thethree friends. A heated exchange followed.The three friends began a hunger strike,which was also joined by all the ordinaryfemale convicts for one day. The strike,which aimed at removing the jailer and thematron, lasted for eight days. It ended onlywhen the three friends were separated andsent to different jails.

Hijli jail in 1932 saw the meeting of manyrevolutionary women— Suhasini Ganguli,Prafullamoyee Brahmo who had introducedShanti and Suniti to the Jugantar group inComilla, Bina Das, Shanti Das, KamalaDasgupta, Banalata Dasgupta, who hadbeen arrested for owning a revolver whilea resident of the Diocesan College hostel,and Kalpana Datta, amongst others. AsShanti saw it, “through discussions witheach other, meeting, exchange of news andaffections, we were building ourselves upfor the next chapter of our freedomstruggle.. But our discussions were notsolely political, the creation daily of newsources of merriment was a specialcharacteristic of our lives in Hijli. Song andpoetry was never-ending. Whatever theconfines of our lives, we would make itbeautiful. Then alone would we take leave.That leave taking too would; be just asbeautiful, just as sweet.”

Some of these sources of collectivemerriment were the acting out of plays anddance-dramas, activating the planchetteboard, cooking competitions, gardening,playing cards, making toys out of flour andpaint, especially on All Fools’ Day, andultimately collaborating in fooling theauthorities in various ways. It was a battleof wits with the jail authorities. Their wellorganised guard system had to be beaten—that was the real fun. Once, Bonolata,Bina and Shanti planned to interchangeplaces in each other’s cells after lock up—Bonolota would take Shanti’s place in theDivision II cell and Shanti would escapeto Bonolata’s Grade I cell. Shanti feignedillness—the doctor was summoned andadvised to sedate the patient. As soon ashe left, Shanti went and hid herself in thecommon bathingroom, where Bina,Bonolata, Bimal and others took it in turnsto come and shield her from the eyes ofthe wardens and sweepers. Under coverof darkness, Shanti then ran to Bonolata’sroom, lay down and covered herself up,leaving only her feet visible. When thedeputy jailer and his assistants came tocheck at the usual hour, ‘they failed todiscover the trick since Kalyani, who wasalso in on the ruse, told them that thesupposed Bonolata was ill and it wasenough that her feet were visible. “All told,Hijli became a small scale Shantiniketanfor us”, felt Bina.

There were also some ritualistic waysin which this togetherness foundexpression. Bina remembered many yearslater that the day she was taken to courtfrom Presidency jail, all her female wardcompanions had dressed her up. “Thekhaddar sari that my family had given,they draped around me. Some of theGujarati girls put kumkum on my forehead,some of them took off their multicolouredbangles and covered my forearms.Whosoever had some choice tidbits fed

Terrorist women wrote about their experience in Jail as atime of companionship, a place of collective resistance to an

order which sought to crush them

No. 45, March-April, 1988

me that...” Another significant evidenceof togetherness was in the ritualsatisfaction of pregnancy cravings, calledshad, while in jail. This particular ritual isthe domain of married women withchildren— and is a clear expression ofsisterhood whereby the mother-to-be iscomforted by those who have alreadyexperienced the pain of childbirth. To haveachieved this in jail, on whatever scale,

instrument of oppression ; it is also asource of genuine affection and nurture.This recreation of the traditions of femalesolidarity within an extended family wasan attempt to resist the fragmentation andisolation that the punitive system wasbased on.

The extension of this domestic spacealso saw accompanying assertions of“femininity.” At Midnapore, when Suniti

four year old Narayan, whose mother wasin the jail hospital and father convicted toone month’s imprisonment in Presidencyjail, left on Bina and her prisonmates alasting impact : “In the beginning, ifNarayan touched us, we used to changeour clothes, wash our hands with soap.But gradually, all that changed...He did notfear us a jot. One day, when I scolded himvery loudly for some naughtiness, hesuddenly turned around and scolded mefor shouting...Every day he would sitbeside us at mealtimes to eat with us...Onthe day of his leaving, we tried to feed himwhatever we had, brought a newly stitchedshirt for him to wear, combed his hair,powdered his face. Each one of us hadsome little gift for him...” Then there wasthe six month old Bablu who spent a yearin jail with his mother. “For that little child,there was so much love—for him therewould be new toys everyday; for him toothere were so many endearments—somecalled him Babli, some Habla, some SonarBablu.”

The presence of children might also,partially at least, have negated the divisionbetween ‘’political” and “ordinary” womenin prison. It was from amongst the latterthat “political prisoners” were sometimesprovided with personal attendants. Thisresulted, in some instances, in strongbonds being forged. Thus Bina protestedagainst the jamadarni kicking 20 year old“Meher’s Ma”, who was being forced towork at the grinding stone despite highfever. Kamala Dasgupta too resisted thejamadarni beating up a very ill Phoolmani,who had to clean the toilets in prison. “Wehave mixed intimately with these murderconvicts. Seen with our own eyes howperfectly ordinary they were. Just like us,they had their share of good and evil—affection, sympathy, caring, everythingthey had as well...They all go in aprocession in front of my eyes. Shoharjan,..Zohra...Sadiman, Naiman...ThapusherMa...” Kamala’s own interaction with thesewomen left her unconvinced of theircriminality; in fact, both Bina and shedreamt of a new world where “social

was no mean feat: it spelt a connectednessthat made for the survival of womenin terribly harsh conditions.

It also made for the extension of thedomestic space to prison and convertedprisonmates into members of a family. Inthe words of Bina: “During the first fewmonths, jail did not seem like a jail. Someof our companions we addressed as didi(elder sister) some boudi (elder brother’swife), some mashima (mother’s sister),some thakurma (grandmother). Theiraffection and caring covered the three ofus like a shield. The most delicious foodthey kept for us, the best place in the roomwas kept for us to sleep in. Even a glass ofwater they did not permit us to pour forourselves.” A family is not just an

Chowdhury was made a Division IIIprisoner and was given jail dress to wear,Bina remembered that she had taken thescissors allotted to her for “sewing labour”and cut the coarse kurta given to Sunitiinto a more shapely blouse. It wasconfiscated by the jail superintendent forbeing “too fashionable.” Similarly,Charushila’s hunger strike in prison andLabanyaprova Datta’s 14 day strike in 1932in Presidency jail for the right to cook theirwidow’s food separately, while reinforcingstereotypes of women, also expressed adesire to live on their own terms. Thisassertion of traditionally feminine rolesthus also became a strongly policical act.

This was enhanced by the advent ofchildren, unlike men’s quarters in jail. The

Women just released from jail, 1931

36 MANUSHI

oppression and poverty” would not forcewomen to come to jail.

There are very moving instances ofwomen who stayed behind in prison,despite opportunities to leave. MohiniDevi, the oldest woman to be convicted inBengal was reported to have resistedrelease because she thought her presencewould bring some relief to other femaleprisoners. One of the hardest things to bearin Bina’s life was the loss of her friend,Bonolata, in prison. Beautiful, enthusiasticBonolata, with an “extraordinary capacityto be happy”, fell ill. She was a detenu andcould have been placed under housearrest, but she abjured all her privilegesfor the companionship of her friend. “If Ileave once, God alone knows when I willsee you again”, she told Bina. By thetime she was persuaded to leave, it wastoo late. But she left behind a letter forBina, a manifesto, of friendship, whichwent : “...Dearest friend, bid me farewelltoday. What I have received from you hasfilled my life completely. I have receivedeverything— just how much cannot bemeasured. For you I leave behind thedeepest heartfelt love. Now that the timehas come to take leave, my eyes are fillingwith tears. But you, my friend, know thereason.”

By seeking to highlight women’s waysof surviving amidst bitterly harshsurroundings, I am not playing down theoppressive nature of these surroundingsand forces. For their bitterness andharshness, living conditions in prison wereperhaps unmatched. Besides the manyhumiliations and hurts inflicted on them—Shovarani Datta for example, wascontinuously hit on the head with heavylocks and reportedly went mad—the mostgalling characteristic of life in prison wasits monotony. “(We) Do not like gettingup in the morning, despite that we do...takethe mound of cloth and with completeunwillingness throw ourselves in front ofthe sewing machine. Then the whole daylong would be spent in cutting, folding,stitching the cloth. Even then it was notenough ; if there were a few less than therequired number, the babus in the office

would demand to know why. Then wouldcome the evening. We would hurriedlywash our hands and faces and sit down toeat from our thalis. After washing theutensils, we would just about start to strollwhen the jamadarni’s loud call would beheard: ‘Come everybody, come for yourlock up.’ This was our daytime, ourevening and our night!” This long stretchof time saw not only the loss of theirhealth— “the girls who had gone into jailhad unbounded health, burning withenthusiasm and intelligence—one by onethey emerged from prison, some movingtowards death’s door on a stretcher, someclutching at the jamadarni’s hands forsupport...”, the loss of near and dear ones,but also the end of many “unfulfilledhopes, dreams and desires.”

ConclusionIn conclusion, one may say that

education was one important force forimproving the status of the Bengalibhadramahila. Their new self awarenessmanifested itself in their thinking, theirexpectations which rose—sometimesahead of social practice, their many

associations for self improvement andcharity, and their participation in varioussegments of the national movement.

Readings

M. Borthswick, Changing Role of Womenin Bengal 1849-1905, Princeton, 1984.

G. Chattopadhyay, Bengal ElectoralPolitics and Freedom Struggle 1862-1947, 1CHR, 1983.

Bina Das, Srinkhal Jhankare, Basudhara,1945.

Shanti Das, Arun Bonhi, Basumati SahityaMandir, BS 1374.

Kamala Dasgupta, Rakter Akkhare,Nabhana, 1977.Swadhinata Sangrame Banglar Nari,Basudhara, BS 1370.

Manoda Debi, Shikshita PatitarAtmakatha, Sangya, BS 1392.

Shova Ghosh, Aaj O Tafu Picchu Dake,Barisal Seba Samiti, 1981.

Shudha Mazumdar, A Pattern of Life :Memoirs of a Bengali Woman, Manohar,1977.Manikuntala Sen, Sediner Katha,Nabapatra, 1982.