Presidential Address to the Bengal Provincial Conference, Pabna

Rabindranath Tagore · February 1908 · Pabna

TranslatedShortened
Occasion: Presidential address, Bengal Provincial Conference, Pabna
Audience: Bengal Provincial Conference
Language: Bengali (English translation)
Length: Shortened version, 3,291 of 8,787 words, about 14 minutes to read. Read the full text

Introduction

Rabindranath Tagore presided over the Bengal Provincial Conference at Pabna in February 1908, at a low point for the swadeshi movement he had helped lead against the partition of Bengal. The Congress had split between Moderates and Extremists at Surat two months earlier. The government was answering agitation with prosecutions and deportations, and clashes between Hindus and Muslims in East Bengal had shown how far the movement had failed to carry Muslims with it. Tagore gave the address in Bengali; this is the English translation printed in Towards Universal Man (1961).

Tagore opens on the partition, "The sword of Partition is hanging over the country today," and on the gulf between communities: "Hindus and Muslims have for centuries been nurtured by the same motherland and yet how far apart are we still!" He admits that Hindus have enjoyed a larger share of government posts and patronage, and asks them to accept that Muslims should have their due. He refuses the Moderate–Extremist quarrel, saying that "The distinction between Extremist and Moderate is not of our making," and defends the boycott of foreign goods as "a means for strengthening us, not a mere instrument for annoying others." His main proposal is constructive work in the villages: "Our aim must be to restore to the villages the power to meet their own requirements," with conferences building branch organizations in every village, because "Self-government will become real only if the leaders of these units can make them self-reliant."

Text

A shortened version that follows the main line of the argument. Cuts are marked […]. Read the full text.

[p. 101] I need hardly say that I am unworthy of the honour you have done me by asking me to preside over this National Conference. To some such honours come easily, to others it is a grievous burden. To push the unfit into high office is another way of discrediting him.

If times had been different, I would have tried to avoid the responsibilities of this office. But like a man facing a tiger on land and a crocodile in water we are living today in difficult days, days of internal dissension and external danger. The powers-that-be threaten us like the Lord of Death and we find it hard to bear patiently with one another. I know for certain that the office of the President is not a pleasurable one today, maybe it is not even an office of honour. The threat of insult and humiliation hovers over us. At such a time, it was not possible for me to decline your invitation on the plea of modesty.

[…] Tagore reflects on the Surat split and asks tolerance of differences within the Congress.

[p. 105] The sword of Partition is hanging over the country today. Hindus and Muslims have for centuries been nurtured by the same motherland and yet how far apart are we still! Until the defects in our character which make this possible are removed, difficulties will dog us at every step of our political career and we shall not be able to bring to fruition any of our great endeavours.

We need not be afraid of attempts by external forces to turn the differences between Hindus and Muslims into conflict. If we can overcome our internal dissensions, we shall be able to laugh at all attempts from outside to set us against one another. Such attempts are in any case bound to cease in course of time. Even the government does not have enough fuel to feed the flames of such discord. Besides, if it did, soon a stage would come when the authorities would have to send post-haste for the fire-brigade. If the homes of the subjects catch fire, the flames must some day and from some direction reach the palace.

If it be true that the government tends today to give undue indulgence to the Muslim in order to curb the Hindu, if at any rate the Muslims think so because of the attitude of the government, the government itself will have to face one day the results of this evil law of division. A hunger that is natural can be appeased. There is also a limit to the claims of competence. There is no end to the claims of indulgence. Those that have been unduly fed cannot be satisfied. It is like trying to carry water in a pitcher that is full of holes.

We must also consider the favourable elements in the situation. From the outset we Hindus have paid greater attention to the education imparted in the schools set up by the British. There is no doubt that as a result, we have enjoyed a larger share than our Muslim brothers in the [p. 106] services and patronage at the disposal of the government. A disparity has thus been created between us. Unless it is removed, we cannot be really one at heart. There will always remain between us a dividing wall of jealousy. If Muslims can secure an adequate share of the posts and prestige of government, the misunderstanding which has been created between unequal associates will be removed and we shall be able to restore concord. Let us therefore with open hearts pray that the favours of government which we have enjoyed till now may be showered adequately on our Muslim brethren. There is a limit to such patronage and when that limit is reached they will find that the deep emptiness of the heart cannot be filled by small gifts from outside. They will then know that there is no prosperity without power and power cannot be attained except through unity. They will realize that it is a crime against religion to disrupt the unity of the country in which we are born. They will understand that even self-interest cannot be served if we violate our nature. It will be then that like two brothers we shall stand together hand-in-hand in a single field of joint endeavour.

[…] Tagore asks acceptance of new parties and calls the rulers' repression the real extremism.

We must remember another thing. The distinction between Extremist and Moderate is not of our making. It is the ruler's black mark which draws the line and we do [p. 110] not always know when and where it is placed and for what purpose. Indeed, the line may change not according to any principles but according to the whims of the powers-that-be.

So I repeat that there is no party of extremists with whom the government has to deal. It is a symptom of the nationalist movement and will remain in evidence as long as the exciting causes continue. Suppressed in one form, it will break out in another or at most be driven to bide its time.

[…] Tagore rejects the official view that extremism is a conspiracy of ringleaders.

The increased facilities for communication and exchange of thought, the teachings of history, the unity of government, the rise of literature and the efforts of the Congress [p. 111] over a period of time have together begun to make us realize that we belong to one country and are one people; that whether in joy or in sorrow our destiny is one; and that we cannot prosper unless we discover the ties which make us one, and seek to strengthen them.

This consciousness has been growing in us, but it has till now been intermittent and an object of intellectual awareness alone. Because we did not realize this truth with our whole being, we were not able to put our heart into our endeavours or to serve the country with the dedication she demands.

Perhaps this state of affairs would have continued long, but suddenly Lord Curzon drew aside the curtain so violently that what was till now hidden could no longer remain so. The moment the order was issued that Bengal should be divided, there arose from east and west one single cry that all Bengalees were one. Never before have we realized so vividly the unity of consciousness in all the limbs of Bengal, based on kinship and the blood bonds of her people.

When the pain of division became intolerable, we thought that we would find redress if we made a united appeal to the king. We did not know then that apart from an appeal to the pity of the rulers, there were other ways open to us.

Foreign favour, which is the resort of the helpless, was anyhow denied to us. We had been like the man who was immobile for years as he believed he was lame, but when his house caught fire he discovered that he could move. The stress of our emotions has roused us to the fact that we too have the power of declaring emphatically that we shall not use foreign goods.

Like most discoveries, this discovery came to us out of a [p. 112] particular experience. As we watched, we soon realized that the discovery was greater than the occasion that provoked it. We realized that here was a source of power and wealth. We recognized that boycott of foreign goods was a means for strengthening us, not a mere instrument for annoying others. Whether it has any other use or not, it has become for us the experience of an immediate truth.

This sudden realization of power has brought to us the joy of a new assurance. Without this joy, we could never have borne the constant suffering that our boycott of foreign goods entailed. Anger can never have such power of endurance. In particular, the anger of the weak can never stand so firmly before the power of the mighty.

The more we suffer today, the deeper becomes our realization of the truth. The greater our ordeal, the more intense and pervasive grows our strength. This acquisition won through suffering is gradually becoming an integral treasure of our heart. It is as if our hearts, melted in the fire of sorrow, are taking on an imprint which can never be obliterated. Like the royal seal, it will remain the testament of our capacity to endure. It has been built through the energy of suffering and through it we shall be able to bear all sorrow.

I was myself astonished when I saw how vigorous was the joy attained through truth. For ages the wise have said that our manhood suffers because of our contempt for manual work and our obsession with posts in government offices. Whoever heard it said that it was sound advice, but simultaneously he set out to write an application for a job. Today all this has changed. And so the rich man's son goes out to learn the weaver's trade, and the Brahmin's son proudly puts his hands to the plough. We had never in our wildest dreams thought that such a thing would [p. 113] happen in our society. An argument can never finally quash another argument, age-old beliefs are not removed through counsel, but when truth appears like a tiny lamp lit in a corner, the darkness of the entire room is put to flight.

Formerly, even if we begged from door to door in the hour of the country's need, we received contempt, not money. Today, when suddenly the call came, our people did not pause to consider what were essential needs but stepped forward to offer everything they had out of the urgency of self-sacrifice. Only a handful of confirmed optimists could in the past hope that we would ever establish a National School on our own. But the moment we felt the first stirrings of strength, what had been an object of unattainable hope came within our grasp. Till now, men of Bengal had neither the training nor the experience nor the capacity to run large factories jointly. Today, in spite of these drawbacks they have already established a large factory and are running it well. And, in addition, they are planning to establish many more large and medium industries. When once the national will achieved one of its objects and the national strength triumphed over suffering and loss, it became inevitable that we should seek to fulfil ourselves in many ways and in many fields.

We suddenly became conscious of our national strength. That realization also made us aware of one great deficiency. We found that we had no organization to discipline this stupendous power. We are troubled today by the thought that the steam which is being dissipated would have been a source of perennial strength if only we could control and utilize it for a national purpose.

We tend to be moody and ill-tempered if we feel within us some acute want or uneasiness but can neither define [p. 114] nor remedy it. When a child hits its mother without any cause, she must understand that the child's anger is only apparently against her—the real cause is some undefined malady. A healthy child is happy and forgets readily as soon as the cause of an annoyance is removed. If then we tend to quarrel among ourselves today, this must be due to some inner malady. We are conscious of our own newborn strength but do not know how to utilize it. The waste of national effort because of the lack of a suitable organization makes us feel frustrated. It is because of this that we are today unable to bear with our own kinsmen.

We have now discovered that one day's effort can collect enough for the National Fund even in this poor land where families are large and incomes low. How then can we forget that it is only the want of organization which has prevented us from converting the affair of one day into a permanent arrangement for life? Not only so, but it is difficult for us to decide what we shall do with the money we have raised. It is agony for the nursing mother when her milk does not flow. Our frozen wealth has become for us an equal pain. The people of the land are now anxious to give and to work. They want to know to whom to give and what. If we cannot direct the urges of the country along the right channels, if everything is done in a haphazard and unorganized manner, is it surprising that men should feel frustrated and dissipate their energy in fratricidal quarrels?

When this happens, the causes of the quarrel are quite beside the mark. Some of us say that we want self-government within the British Commonwealth. Others say, we want independence without any British connection. We forget that all such claims are mere verbal gymnastics. They refer to objects so distant that they have no bearing [p. 115] on our responsibilities of today. If Providence had appeared before us with the gift of colonial self-government in one hand and independence in the other, and declared that it wanted from us an immediate choice, there might be some sense in fighting one another to arrive at an instant decision. But what justification is there to file a suit for the division of the harvest when even the land has not been tilled?

For the individual as for the nation, freedom is the ultimate goal. But our scriptures also tell us that the obstacles to its attainment lie hidden in our own nature and must first be removed by work. The major obstacles to our national freedom are similarly present within us in various forms. If we do not remove them through deeds, we cannot do so through mere debates. Disputations may in fact tend to enhance them. We may, if we wish, carry on a peaceful debate about the various forms of liberty and discuss whether freedom in isolation is better than freedom in association. But whether it be federation or autonomy, it can be attained only through deeds. Adherents of both must realize that work—not argument, still less bickering—is our immediate duty; work which will give us vitality and remove from our national character the factors which make us poor and weak, divided and subject.

[…] Tagore argues that self-help must come before government favours, without ignoring British rule.

How then should we set about building our programme of work? The higher a tower, the broader must be its foundation. If we desire to build an edifice that will reflect our national aspirations, we must work up from each and every district to a representative body for each province. These Provincial Conferences should establish branch organizations in every village and begin with the collection of all possible information about every part of the province. This is necessary as precise knowledge must precede all efficient work.

Our aim must be to restore to the villages the power to meet their own requirements. We should combine a number of villages to form a regional unit. Self-government will become real only if the leaders of these units can make them self-reliant and capable of coping with the [p. 119] needs of their component villages. They must have their own schools, workshops and granaries, their own co-operative stores and banks which they should be assisted to found and taught to maintain. Each community unit should have its common meeting place for work and play where its appointed headmen may hear and settle local disputes and differences.

[…] Tagore discusses co-operative farming, village decay, and peasants' weakness before police and landlords.

And finally, let the blessings of the motherland be showered on you, devoted young men, who have regardless of all risks volunteered in the country's cause. You have been the first to rise with the flush of dawn and to endure the conflicts and hardship of the day's work. Your awakening manliness has spoken not only in the thunder of battle but also in bountiful showers that have poured upon the thirsty land. Those who have been down-trodden, despised and callous to insults, unaccustomed to any consideration except from members of their own family and oblivious [p. 125] even of their rights as men, have today learnt because of you what human brotherhood means.

As the power inherent in you has today blossomed into love, barriers can no longer remain and the desert shall bloom into an orchard, for God will not deny us His grace. Like Bhagirath whose penance brought Mother Ganges to this world and revived life in the burnt-up ashes of his forefathers, your endeavours are bringing new life to India. No obstacles can resist this flow, no more than Airavath, the titanic elephant of Indra, the Lord of Heaven, could block the waters of the Ganges. I hail you today as messengers of love sent by the Arbiter of India's destiny and bid you remember that consecration in the service of the country is not a momentary affair like the ceremonial bath on the occasion of a feast like the Ardhodaya. The privations and terror suffered by India's helpless children are not confined to a particular time or place. Nor need you think that your endeavours alone, without an effort on their part, can save and protect them.

Teach them to be strong and to protect themselves, for that is the only way. Take, each of you, charge of one village and organize it. Educate the villagers and initiate new programmes of agriculture and production in the villages. Put new heart into the people so that they can build for themselves clean, healthy and beautiful homes. Teach them the value of co-operative action so that they may put forward their united strength and meet their social obligations. Do not expect fame or praise in the undertaking. Instead, be prepared for opposition and distrust rather than gratitude from those for whom you would give your life. There will be no excitement, conflict or ostentation in this programme of work. It will need patience, love and silent striving, but let one single-minded [p. 126] resolution sustain you in all your work: the resolve that you will make it your life's mission to share in the sufferings of those who are the most afflicted in the land and through participation in their sorrows find remedies that will destroy the very roots of their misery.

If our Provincial Conference undertakes the responsibility of establishing such bodies in every district, and if these district organizations spread out to every village, then and then alone shall we have a real claim to our motherland. Then alone will the Congress be fed with living blood from every part of the country through numberless arteries and become the throbbing heart of India and the symbol of its vital unity.

[…] Tagore restates his principles: organize the villages and unite the educated with the masses.

We of today shall be gone tomorrow. Who will then [p. 128] remember our petty jealousies, quarrels and disputes? But our deeds with their endless sequence of cause and effect will under God's mysterious guidance accumulate from generation to generation and give substance and form to the emergence of a progressive nation. In the midst of our poverty and squalor, let us dream of that bright and cloudless day when our grandsons may be able to say with pride: "All this is ours, all this we have built up. We have made these fields fertile, these waters clear and this atmosphere pure. All this knowledge we have spread abroad and from our hearts cast out fear." And may they be able to say: "Ours is this beautiful land where waters flow and harvests multiply, a land where soft breezes blow and society is sustained by manliness and self-control to serve humanity in knowledge and action and faith. All this is what we have striven for and achieved. All our land is filled with our life and glad with our songs. Wherever we cast our eyes, we see at work our ideals and our efforts and the earth aquiver with the unwearied tread of pilgrims journeying along numberless paths towards the Promised Land."

Source

Rabindranath Tagore, Towards Universal Man (Bombay: Asia Publishing House, 1961), pp. 101–128.