The Rani of JhansiI : Rebel Against Will By Rainer Jerosch, Aakar, Rs 295

Most non-specialists harbour the notion that writing books or articles on history is an easy matter that does not require any training. Rainer Jerosch studied jurisprudence, worked in India, travelled here, and has written previously on development policy issues. This, he thinks, gives him the intellectual resources to write a monograph on one of the most complex issues of the revolt of 1857, which is also a subject that has generated not a little controversy. He thus descends much in the manner a parachutist jumps into unknown and hostile terrain. But most parachutists are trained and are equipped with a map and a compass. Jerosch jumps without training and without a proper map to guide him.

The result is a book that goes without any mention of some of the recent work on the revolt of 1857, and more specifically on the revolt in Bundelkhand and on the rani of Jhansi. The most glaring of these omissions are the two fine books by Tapti Roy. One is on aspects of the popular uprising in Bundelkhand, where Jhansi is located, and the other is her biography of the rani of Jhansi. The latter, not as good a book as Roy’s first one, is, of course, of direct relevance to Jerosch. But he ignores them; one is not sure if he is at all aware of their existence. Also omitted are the works of S.B. Chaudhuri, on the civil rebellion in the Indian mutinies, of Eric Stokes, of Rudrangshu Mukherjee, of Gautam Bhadra and so on. He writes as if historiography on 1857 has not progressed much beyond the works of Kaye and Malleson in the 19th century and S.N. Sen and R.C. Majumdar in the centenary of the rebellion. In terms of research, this books shortchanges its readers. There is no archival research and the reading of the secondary material is somewhat shoddy. What is really shocking is that he makes no reference to (let alone make use of) Vishnubhatt Godse’s narrative — the only contemporary Indian account of Lakshmibai’s reign in Jhansi.

In his concluding chapter, Jerosch writes, “One must concede that her [rani of Jhansi] deeds do not merit much more than a footnote in the annals of India’s long and venerable history.” Yet he compares at great length the rani of Jhansi to Joan of Arc. Who in his right mind would compare someone he himself describes as a minor figure to St Joan? Bar the facts that both were women and both are considered martyrs in their nationalist pantheons, there is hardly any similarity between the two.

The rani of Jhansi, as the title of the book implies, was somewhat of a reluctant rebel. As late as January 1858, when the revolt in most parts of north India, except the countryside of Awadh had been suppressed, and when the British counter-insurgency troops were moving into Bundelkhand, she was writing pleading letters to the British to come to her aid and to rescue her from the tide of popular insurrection that was surrounding her. It was only when her appeals were ignored and she felt she was in danger that she decided to throw in her lot with the rebels and then died fighting. There were other figures — the name of Rana Beni Madho of Sankarpur in southern Awadh comes to mind — who resisted the British from the beginning of the uprising till they died fighting British troops up in the Terai in late 1859.

If it is her gender that makes the rani of Jhansi special, why is Begum Hazrat Mahal ignored? From the moment the sepoys took to arms in Lucknow, the Begum and her forces joined them and then led them. She never wavered in her cause till she died unsung in Nepal. The word unsung is used deliberately since Hazrat Mahal has received none of the attention that the rani of Jhansi has received from historians and mythmakers. Given the role that the Begum played, Jerosch’s contention that the rani and Nana Sahib were the two most important princes involved in the revolt is best described as an exaggeration, at worst a misrepresentation.

The problems arising from the absence of training as a historian are evident from Jerosch’s handling of the material he has read. For example, for many aspects of Lakshmibai’s early and private life, he cites D.V. Tahamankar as his source. The fact of the matter is Tahamankar’s The Ranee of Jhansi was published in 1960. Unless one is told what sources Tahamankar used to arrive at some of his conclusions, the latter cannot be taken as being authoritative. Thus the contention that Lakshmibai was well-versed in the Gita may very well be a conjecture on Tahamankar’s part. It is doubtful that in an orthodox Brahmin household a woman would have been allowed to read sacred Hindu texts. This is assuming that Lakshmibai was able to read Sanskrit.

Anyone attempting a biography of the rani of Jhansi (whether she deserves a biography is a question of a different order altogether) must accept that little or nothing is known of her early life and of her private world. Where and how did she learn her riding and fighting skills? What was her married life like? What was she like as a person? These are questions whose answers are open to speculation. A novelist would revel in this world of the unknown, and therefore of the imagination. A historian-cum-biographer is unfortunately a bit restricted by the availability of sources. Jerosch attempted the impossible foolhardily, and failed.

The failure highlights important issues. How did the myth around the rani of Jhansi grow? When and how did it start? There is a mystery lurking behind a reluctant rebel becoming a heroine at the cost of neglecting real and steadfast rebels. Does the fact that Hazrat Mahal has not been the subject of mythmaking have something to do with her being a Muslim? How is it that someone who was appealing to the British for help and protection till January 1858 is seen as martyr and a nationalist heroine?

History gave Lakshmibai a tough time. A lonely woman in a man’s world who was forced to take momentous decisions in tumultuous times. These decisions affected her and the lives of people over whom she ruled. But historians, for reasons best known to them, have been kind to her. She deserves a book but certainly not the kind that Jerosch has written.