Wednesday, August 17, 2016

When Bae Leads the Rebellion: Lakshmi Bai, continued

 When we last left our heroine, she had been removed from power by the British East Indian Company (BEIC) and her story was about to become extremely muddy. In my limited research, I have not personally read any of the Rani’s papers, and the sources I have looked at rely on the memoirs of her son, papers by British company men who encountered her, and some letters that she wrote to the British pleading her case. She does not seem to have left behind any of her personal thoughts about the British or the events that followed (no diaries) leaving much of what happened next up to speculation and interpretation.
Here is what we know.
The Rani was in the middle of dealing with the Doctrine of Lapse nonsense and trying to be civil with the British when the Rebellion began in 1857. We also know that a number of rebel groups were championing local princes who had been ousted by the Doctrine of Lapse, as well as the Mughal Emperor who had become little more than a figurehead in Delhi. The degree to which these princes and the emperor supported the insurgents is questionable, since most of the princes were part of the British ruling apparatus.
What happened in Jhansi was not all that different from what had previously occurred in other princely states. The British had annexed the state, but Lakshmi Bai and her son continued to live there. When Bengali Sepoys in the state began to rebel, the Rani – who had every reason to be anti-British – was implicated as their leader, but insisted she was loyal to the British, and that the mutinous troops had stolen her funds and guns. She was also implicated when – similar to an earlier incident in Kanpur – the rebels massacred British civilians that they were ostensibly protecting. The Sepoys then abandoned Jhansi for Agra and Delhi, and since no British troops were sent to replace them, the state was left unprotected.
In the words of John Keay, in Jhansi, “old dynastic scores were being settled and new opportunities exploited under cover of the Rebellion” (444). Rival claimants to the throne of Jhansi invaded, and so Lakshmi Bai raised troops – many of them pro-Rebellion and anti-British - and defended the kingdom – possibly on behalf of the British? Part of what makes telling Lakshmi Bai’s story so challenging is that with the limited research I have done, it is impossible to know her exact intent – and she may not have left a paper trail to show it. My understanding is that when she first raised these troops to fight the rival claimants, she was still hoping that British troops would come to help, so naturally, she would be fighting on behalf of the British. However, she is also a hero of Indian Nationalist history, which naturally focuses more heavily on her antics against the British rather than her collaboration.
Regardless of her feelings towards the British, the point is that the British didn’t make the Rani feel all that warm and fuzzy. They didn’t send troops to help her, and they didn’t seem to respond to her vows of loyalty to the British. Instead, the British sent a section of the Bombay Army to re-capture Jhansi from her.
At this point, Lakshmi Bai firmly joined the rebellion, joining forces with other rebel leaders. The British besieged Jhansi, and despite her best efforts, the fortress fell and Lakshmi Bai was forced to flee with her son.

A statue of Lakshmi Bai fleeing with her son on her back, in Solapur. Photo courtesy of wikimedia commons. 
But the rebellious exploits don’t end there!
Lakshmi Bai and another rebel leader – Tatya Topi – continued to give the British a run for their money and in 1858 seized Gwalior, the capital of one of the princely states. This, alas, was the Rani’s last stand as she was killed in the British attack – just 29 (ish?) years old. The rebels in Gwalior lost three days later, and the rebellion itself had fizzled out by 1860.
The traditional narrative of the short-lived “Sepoy Mutiny” (aside from leaving out Lakshmi Bai and the exploits of other rebels) also glosses over how significantly the Rebellion changed British India. The British did address many of the issues that led to the mutiny in the first place: they became a little more sensitive to the religions of their soldiers, and significantly curtailed missionary activity in India so that the soldiers would be less fearful of British intentions to convert them to Christianity – but the military itself also became significantly less Indian and much more British.
Some Princes were allowed to maintain their princely states and contracts with the British – the troublesome Doctrine of Lapse was kicked to the curb. Other princes never got their lands and titles back – the Mughal Emperor was exiled to Rangoon for the rest of his life and the great dynasty ended. And, administration of India was finally wrested away from the BEIC and assumed by the British government, making Queen Victoria first Queen and later Empress of India. (What a babe.) 
A statue of Lakshmi Bai in Agra. Photo courtesy of wikimedia commons.
As for Lakshmi Bai, she became a heroine of the Indian Nationalist movement – even though her first military campaigns were against "other Indians" who were trying to take her state, and even though she was not fighting for “India” as we know it today. That conception of a single Indian state didn’t exist yet.
Something else that strikes me is that while Lakshmi Bai’s actions still would have been noteworthy is she was a man – especially in Indian national lore – there is something that makes her more special because she was a woman. For centuries, conventional wisdom in many parts of the world has been that women can’t or shouldn’t be in combat or strategic roles in the military. Yet, women like Lakshmi Bai prove that women can be effective military commanders. I personally don’t think that the Rani of Jhansi represents an exception – and if more women were given the opportunity, there would be more female military leaders of note.
Also, if the exploits of Lakshmi Bai were included in history books, more students might remember the Great Rebellion of 1857.

Next week, Gertrude Bell: Queen of the Desert, Midwife of the Middle East, Curator of Outrageous Epithets.




Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Lakshmi Bai: The Backstory

Meet Manikarnika aka Lakshmi Bai: wife, mother, leader of a major rebellion against the British at the age of 22. You know, normal young woman in her twenties stuff.

I am starting with Lakshmi Bai because she is the woman who inspired me to write this blog. I first encountered her earlier this month while reading John Keay’s India: A History. As preparation for teaching AP World History for the first time, I am reading up on the histories of regions I know little about – such as South Asia. (Also, I’m working on a fantasy series that takes place within a pseudo-Indian setting…but more on that some other time.)
If you – like me – don’t know much about Indian history, I will say this: before reading Keay’s book, I thought that the British had some serious Game of Thrones moments in their history. Now, I think that Indian history could teach George R.R. Martin a thing or two.
If you remember anything about Indian history (besides Gandhi) it’s probably the Great Rebellion of 1857, commonly called the “Sepoy Mutiny” in Western Parlance. The naming of this event is difficult and politically fraught. While Westerners typically describe the events as a “mutiny,” some Indian narratives refer to it as the “First War of Independence” or “National Uprising.” I am using the more neutral term “Great Rebellion.”
The typical Western telling of the rebellion goes like this: rumors spread among sepoys (native soldiers hired by the British) in Bengal that the new rifle cartridges being issued (which had to be bitten open before being loaded down the front of the barrel) were greased with both cow and pig fat. The Hindu sepoys found this offensive because of the Hindu reverence for cows, and Muslim sepoys found it offensive because like Jews, Muslims view pigs as unclean and unfit for human consumption. The Bengal sepoys mutinied, but the mutiny was suppressed by February of 1857 and the offending cartridges removed. In this version, the mutiny is a parable about British insensitivity to the religious sensibilities of their subject peoples – possibly suggesting that the sepoys were petty and superstitious – but that the rebellion was easily squashed and the British magnanimously accommodated the sepoys by finding other methods to grease the rifle cartridges.
But there is so much more to the rebellion than that.
It is true that the uprising among the Bengal sepoys was suppressed fairly quickly, but the grievance regarding the rifle cartridges was just one on a long list – it wasn’t about the cartridges any more than the American Revolution was about tea. News of the mutiny in Bengal spread, sparking similar actions against British rule in other parts of India.
At the time of the rebellion, the British government did not directly administer India. Instead, parts of India were ruled by the soon-to-be-defunct British East India Company (Notorious BEIC), and other parts were ruled by native princes of various sorts who collaborated with the British in one way or another. The sepoys were not soldiers for the British government – they were soldiers for the company. The rebellion was not a monolithic, united effort of native Indians against British oppressors, but rather an assortment of anti-British groups, versus an assortment of British collaborators and of course, the British themselves.
Isn’t this fun?
Here is where Lakshmi Bai comes in. Like many people of royal personage, Lakshmi Bai was not her given name, but rather the name she adopted after becoming Rani (Queen) of Jhansi by marrying the Raja (King) Gangadhar Rao in 1842, when she was between 12 and 14 years old. (Sources disagree about her age.) Jhansi was one of the many “princely states” in India that had signed treaties with the BEIC. During the course of her marriage, Lakshmi Bai gave birth to one son, who died as an infant. To address his lack of an heir, Gangadhar Rao adopted the son of one of his cousins, named Lakshmi Bai as regent, and promptly died in 1853.
The company, however, did not recognize the authority of Lakshmi Bai or her son and invoked the “Doctrine of Lapse” – a policy where the company annexed those princely states that did not have a suitable male heir. Lakshmi Bai’s son, being adopted, didn’t count. The BEIC offered the Rani a pension and ordered her to leave her palace.

At this point, the story of Lakshmi Bai becomes much more complicated and since I have already rambled on long enough, you will have to tune in next week for the exciting conclusion of Lakshmi Bai and the Great Rebellion.