Jallianwala Bagh, 1919 Read online

  In fact, when Kitchin and Donald arrived, the city was quiet. The residents of Amritsar had gone home. But late at night, when the appointed Officer Commanding, Major MacDonald, arrived with his men from Lahore, ‘the Commissioner told him verbally that the situation was beyond civil control, and that he, as Senior Military Officer, was to take such steps as the military situation demanded.’26 Throughout the time Kitchin was in Amritsar or even upon his return to Lahore, he kept looking for a military solution. It is possible that O’Dwyer had sent him down with an agenda: to extract revenge for the murder of the five Europeans.

  Nothing further had happened, and the city was peaceful, but the civil authorities were still fearful for the security of the remaining Europeans. They wanted the army to take over and perhaps take some punitive measures. Irving, and now his superior, Kitchin, also wanted to mete out severe punishments. They would either take action themselves or get someone else to control the rebels.

  In a telegram dated 10 April 1919, 11.30 p.m., sent by hand to the Private Secretary, Punjab, Kitchin made it clear that he had another, rather more violent plan in mind. Even though everything was quiet, he noted that the European casualties were five and the city’s casualties about thirty. He added: ‘Reported that processions are to form in the morning to bury and burn corpses. We intend to prohibit and break up such processions with military force. I have informed Officer Commanding that he is in charge and can use military force. . . Expect trouble in the morning. . .’

  The accompanying notes reconfirm this: ‘Processions in the morning for burial of native victims. These will be forbidden and broken up. Further rioting expected in consequence.’

  At 6.45 a.m. on 11 April, Kitchin received a telephonic message from the Private Secretary, Lahore, stating: ‘Lieutenant Governor approves your proposed action. Will send aeroplanes and armoured cars this morning.’

  These were ominous words. There was obviously a plan to fire upon the funeral processions with machine guns from inside armoured cars, and perhaps drop bombs as well. But the fact remained that while MacDonald had been told he could use military force, he did not do so.27 In the Government House War Diaries, and in the notes that Kitchin sent on 11 April, it is apparent that there was no outbreak of violence, and that the city remained peaceful. The only issues were that Kitchin wanted to dominate the city, and the residents wanted the funerals to be conducted with the proper ceremonies.

  The note sent by Kitchin on 11 April to Lahore, at 11.30 a.m., stated: ‘I have now expressed to Officer Commanding that we should occupy as much as possible of the city this afternoon. He has agreed. It is essential to persuade the city that Amritsar is ours.’ At 2.30 p.m., he reiterated that the city was quiet, but at 3 p.m., his telephonic message insisted on the necessity for a march of British troops through the city.28

  A telephonic message was sent at 2.30 p.m., from Kitchin to the Private Secretary, Punjab, Lahore: ‘Funerals of victims of yesterday are going on. The crowd has been told that funeral party must disperse by 2 o’clock: 15 minutes after that time they will be treated as rioters and dispersed by force. There has not been any trouble today. The troops have not yet entered the city. We expect to send a force into the city by this evening.’

  In another telephonic message at 3 p.m., he notes: ‘Burial party quite orderly and returned to the city half an hour before time given them. British troops are going through the city now in company with civil officer and will break up any gatherings they may meet.

  ‘It is reported that the city is quiet and the shops will soon re-open. A message has come from the different heads of Dharamshalas that all is well.’

  It was apparent that after the terrible events of 10 April, the residents of Amritsar had swallowed their pain and decided to normalise the situation as much as possible.

  In the same note, Kitchin also went on to reiterate that the situation continued to be peaceful: ‘So far as known only eight corpses (Indian) have been produced. There has been no firing today. The present situation is that Officer Commanding Troops is anxious to give crowds time to bury their dead and to disperse, before entering the city. Emissaries are said to have gone out into villages, but there is no news of response. Trains are running quietly and an attempt is being made to restore telegraph communication. I am anxious not to reduce British force until we know that the Indian troops are sound. Of the Gurkhas here—250—only 100 have rifles, the others being armed with kukris. There has been no general looting. Damage is confined to Government buildings and to missions and to banks. A wounded English lady was got out last night in the burka (sic).’

  Despite reporting peace and quiet in Amritsar, Kitchin had initially, on the morning of 11 April, openly displayed his suspicion of Amritsar residents when they had come to request if they could take out funeral processions. He may have done this in order to implement his plan of firing and dropping bombs upon the funeral processions. This is corroborated in the evidence gathered by the Hunter Committee. The Commissioner said he viewed those seeking permission for burials and funerals as ‘representing rioters’ and said they maintained a ‘defiant’ attitude. In reality, those arranging the funerals were mostly young lawyers who turned up on behalf of the bereaved families, who were both grieving and worried about what would happen if they appeared before the administration. (In the next few months, there would be constant suspicion of the legal profession as lawyers were at the forefront of the anti-Rowlatt Act protests and gatherings.)

  Kitchin stated in the Government House War Diaries, on 11 April: ‘This morning I issued order prohibiting processions and mobs on pain of being fired at. Two pleaders conveyed the orders to the city and a deputation came back asking leave to bury their dead.’ This statement is important as it shows that though the residents of Amritsar were complying with orders and ready to obey whatever new laws were being created, the British officers were giving permissions for the funerals very reluctantly—they simply did not want a crowd to gather.

  The families of the dead and wounded would have been distraught and worried; they were not allowed to openly grieve for their dead for as long as they wanted. On the other hand, many of those who were wounded may have been unwilling to come forward since they were likely to be arrested. Thus the number of those who died or were severely maimed from the firing could have been higher than reported. (This was to be the case in Jallianwala Bagh as well.)

  It was to prevent further clashes or trouble that Irving had summoned two young lawyers, Yasin and Maqbool Mahmood to meet him at the railway station on the morning of 11 April. He explained to them that the city was under military control and that only four people would be allowed for the burial or cremation of a corpse. After being told it was a religious ceremony, Irving and Kitchin increased the number to eight.

  The order was then read out by Maqbool to a large crowd inside the Hall Gate. They all gathered around to listen to the first of many strange proclamations:

  ‘The troops have orders to restore order in Amritsar, and to use all the force necessary. No gatherings of persons, no procession of any sort will be allowed. All the gatherings will be fired on. Any person leaving the city, or persons gathering in groups of more than four, will be fired on. Respectable persons should keep indoors until order is restored. The dead may be carried out for the burial or the burning, by parties of not more than eight, at intervals not less that fifteen minutes, by the Ghee Mandi, Lohgarh, Khazana and Chatiwind Gate.’29

  As is apparent from this strained dialogue between the people and the officers, frustration was rising on both sides. Irving was trying to appear as though he was still in command but the crowd of mourners wanted to conduct the funerals with proper solemnity, not under threat of being shot. In the face of increasing numbers coming out onto the street, and Major MacDonald’s reluctance to open fire without cause, the situation would have deeply upset the administration, goading them into issuing further threats.

  The mourners sent emissaries to request for mo
re people to accompany the funeral processions. These were the first deaths since the Satyagraha Movement began in Punjab, and those killed would be considered martyrs. However, the British—including Smith and Reverend Mackenzie—felt that even tougher measures were required, and giving in was not the solution. They were still enraged over the five Europeans who had been killed the previous day, and any pandering to the crowd could be considered a sign of weakness.

  Gerard Wathen, the principal of the Khalsa College, was of the opinion that officials ‘should not take such a harsh view of the situation and should behave more calmly and soberly’. Irving shouted, ‘No more talking. We have seen our dead bodies charred. Our temper is changed.’30 However, he succumbed finally and allowed processions, provided they were not of more than 2,000 people. So the numbers increased from 4 to 8 to 2,000.

  The following conditions were finally laid out for the funerals:

  The processions would only go out of the Sultanwind and the Chatiwind Gates.

  Everything was to be over by 2 p.m.

  At 2 p.m. there would be a warning by bugle.

  After 15 minutes past 2 p.m., they would fire.

  No lathis were allowed.31

  Wathen was also asked to spread the word through his students that a state of war had broken out.32

  The tensions between the British and the Indians continued to escalate.

  Kitchin told the Hunter Committee that he had issued a proclamation on the morning of 11 April, which was handed over to those who had come to meet him since there was no time to make it known through any other manner. It was obvious that he was disappointed by the relatively mild reactions of Irving and MacDonald. Something more needed to be done to make the people of Amritsar realise their enormous folly—as in the statements he recorded and conveyed back to Lahore, he stated they were unrepentant.

  He also said, ‘I asked the Principal of the Khalsa College who was thereabouts to send his own students to tell the people that we considered that a state of war had broken out and they must settle down. I understand he had sent a number of students to tell the people in the city that our patience was nearly exhausted. There was no intention of firing until the people had been adequately and sufficiently warned. I had expected some penitence after the murders and the lootings of the previous day, but there was no indication of anything of the kind.’33

  Gerard Wathen’s wife noted that ‘On 8 am, on Friday—Gerard heard that the commissioner was coming over and the troops were to march through the city, firing on everyone they saw. He saw what a frightful blunder this would be, as of course hundreds of innocent people were out to look at the damage. He tore off to the station and for an hour argued with the authorities and at last got them to see that they must give warning, now that the actual mob had dispersed.’ There were also plans for bombardment from aircraft.34

  However, MacDonald had made it clear that the proclamation (which was more or less the same as the one that Dyer was to issue the next day) needed to be widely known. Even with a limited circulation, he managed to ensure there were no further killings, and gave people time to return home.

  In a telephonic message sent at 2.30 p.m., on 11 April, to Lahore, Kitchin did indicate that things were going quite differently to the plan of the previous night, which had been approved by O’Dwyer. While they were prepared to shoot and bomb people, the funerals had taken place without further incident. The British also buried their dead, quietly.

  Kitchin said on 11 April that MacDonald did not want ‘wholesale slaughter’ so he allowed time for the crowds to disperse: ‘Officer Commanding Troops was unwilling to start shooting till the crowds had time to learn the orders. They were given permission by Officer Commanding to bury their dead outside the city, provided they did not exceed 2000 men and did not carry arms and that they dispersed at 2 p.m. We just heard that the bodies are to be buried inside the city. Officer Commanding Troops has said that he will allow crowds to disperse. He does not want wholesale slaughter, which would be the result of earlier interference.’35

  MacDonald had noted in his message to Officer Commanding, 16th Division, Lahore (sent between 1 p.m. and 2 p.m.) that two aeroplanes had flown over the city at 7 a.m. (as promised by O’Dwyer in his message sent at 6.45 a.m.) and an ‘armoured train with two British Officers and 34 men arrived from Lahore at 09.00 hours. Party of one British Officer and 20 gunners arrived at 10.30 p.m.’ But MacDonald did not use the option of bombing or shooting. If Kitchin or O’Dwyer were hoping for some more deaths due to the lack of penitence—it did not happen. Not on 11 April.36

  Kitchin may well have preferred that MacDonald start firing at the funeral procession because it was obvious that those who died had participated or been present at the protests on 10 April. It was, therefore, easy to presume that some of those in the funeral procession might themselves be the arsonists and rioters who burnt the buildings and killed the five Europeans. By permitting the funeral processions, in fact, the British got a chance to identify the ‘culprits’. It was, sadly, almost like an identity parade, which those conducting the funerals did not realise.

  The city had a well-established system of spies and the Criminal Investigation Department was often used to identify offenders. Undoubtedly, the crowds of people now appearing on the streets would have been easy targets. The arrests were not made immediately, but later at night, once the troops had gone into the city, and more reinforcements had arrived.37 In his longer report dated 11 April 1919, sent between 1 p.m. and 2 p.m. and received at 2.25 p.m. from Officer Commanding, Amritsar to General Officer Commanding, 16th Division, Lahore, Major MacDonald said that on 10 April, following the firing and the resulting riots in the morning, more reinforcements of troops were requisitioned for Amritsar, even though the situation afterwards remained peaceful. ‘On my arrival I found all quiet and immediately proceeded to patrol City with my detachment from Lahore and brought in the remains of the three Bank managers murdered and also released four other civilians held up in the City. Night remained quiet. At 05.15 hours troop special under command of Major Clarke arrived from Jullundur with one British Officer and 100 ranks London, two British officers and 130 ranks 151st, and one British officer and 100 ranks 59th, together with Medical Officer and staff. Parties from these latter details were sent out on arrival to relieve pickets and remainder posted at exits to city.’

  Importantly, when MacDonald went to rescue the officers of the Chartered Bank and two other Europeans who had taken shelter inside the Kotwali at Town Hall, ‘. . . instead of the party having to fight its way through the streets, as the Commissioner anticipated, the streets were found deserted.’38 Yet, a siege mentality had taken hold. All European women and children had been transported to the Gobindgarh Fort, where they were kept in ‘extreme discomfort’. Some European missionaries as well as Indian Christians had also been similarly taken to what was considered a safer zone, even though there were no attacks from the Indian side. However, the fear of further attacks from the Indian ‘mob’ continued to be felt—and a nervous Irving, did little to placate these fears.

  Perhaps having been posted recently to the city, Irving had scarcely any idea of local politics and both Kitchin and O’Dwyer were more impressed with the advice of Smith, the Civil Surgeon in Amritsar, who throughout these disorders, and later, would demonstrate his own preference for a more brutal repression. The idea of deporting Kitchlew and Satya Pal was also supported by him.

  O’Dwyer would tell the Hunter Committee: ‘I may add that a day or two before the deportation, Colonel Smith, the Civil Surgeon, who has a unique knowledge of Amritsar and great influence there, come (came) to see me at Lahore. I asked him if he thought the deportation would be likely to lead to any disturbance. His reply was that it would not, that the Khatris and Kashmiris (Hindus and Muslims) would not offer any open resistance.’39

  Despite the fact that he had been proven wrong, Smith continued to advise the Punjab administration—advocating increasingly harsh measures.
So far, no one seemed to have considered the fact that all the rioters of 10 April had been unarmed civilians protesting the arrest of their leaders, and that the number of deaths on the Indian side was much, much higher. It is also likely that there were a large number of wounded as over 70 rounds were fired into the crowd.

  Smith was among those Europeans who was attacked by the crowd on 10 April as he ‘took his ambulance into the city to rescue Europeans from the schools and hospitals, but was stoned, and eventually had to desist.’40 The safety of European women and children was another factor that drove the administration to their extreme reaction. The sight of around 130 women and children sheltering in the Gobindgarh Fort under unsanitary conditions has been described in an anonymous eyewitness account, ‘By An Englishwoman’, in Blackwood magazine (April 1920): ‘surrounded by the miseries of dirt, heat, and overcrowding. There was no sanitation. . . no privacy. Sixteen people shared one small room for the first three days.’ The lack of facilities, including fans and proper bedding, in a space infested with sandflies and mosquitoes made these women, who were used to servants waiting on them hand and foot, even more miserable. The ‘Englishwoman’ notes that it was the plight of the babies and children, without fresh food or milk, which made the situation very serious. One child developed typhoid. The proliferation of rumours kept everyone’s nerves on edge—as did the news about those Europeans who had been attacked on 10 April.

  Not a word, however, was recorded or spoken by the officials or indeed, anyone else in a position of authority, about the trauma experienced by Indian women and children in the city of Amritsar, whose relations had died and who were now—just like the women and children in the Fort—being held hostage in a hostile environment. Their situation was worse because they were vulnerable within their own homes—not guarded or protected as the Europeans were by armed Gurkhas. While the European women and children would be evacuated to a hill station after around two weeks, those residents of Amritsar who survived the repression and killings would be trapped in the city to undergo torturous humiliation for the next three months.