The INA Trial . Following excerpts have been taken from Mahanayak by Mr.Vishwas Patil

“Chalo Dilli! Onward Delhi!" Until then, in the past two centuries, no man had dares to openly defy the British! Netaji’s call set every one on fire. “My brave warriors of the Azad Hind Army, I know you are impatient to see the sun rising, free and independent over the horizon. Come! Lets go to Delhi. Break the noose of slavery that is strangling thirty-eight crore lives. Tear down the Union Jack that flutters over the Viceroy’s mansion and hoist our beloved tricolour. Then we will conduct the drill of our victorious army at the Lal Quila itself. What is rest till then? What is peace?”

The brave soldiers of the of the Azad Hind Fauj had reached the eastern gates of the country. The British stations at Imphal and Kohima were rattled. The road to Dimapur was cut off. Bishenpur fell. Subhas’s commandos landed in Gujarat, Bombay and Madras by submarine. Some said that the British papers of surrender were typed and ready. In a day or two, a week at the most, Subhas would storm Delhi with his forty thousand braves. How ever the stars played a cruel game. Unseasonal rains lashed Imphal and Kohima. Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed and the arena of the war changed. Thousand of the jubilant soldiers who were supposed to join in the final victory parade became an easy prey in the hands of the British army.

Once again, the Lal Quila was to witness a sensational drama. This time the noose was around the neck of three senior officers of the British-Indian Army who were carefully chosen - to ensure that no religion felt any neglect. Shah Nawaz Khan (a Muslim), Gurbaksh Singh Dhillon (a Sikh ) and Prem Sehgal (a Hindu).

One of the cell door was thrown open. An officer whispered to his colleague, “This is Shah Nawaz Khan, best Cadet of the Dehra Doon Military Academy”. One of the officers put his hands on Shah Nawaz’s shoulders said, “Son, will anyone looking at you and your borrowed uniform believe that today at least sixty men from your family are obediently serving the British army?” Shah Nawaz recognized Collins the Commandant of the IMA. He went on saying, “you would have become the Commander-in-Chief of the Indian army, my son." But, suddenly he pushed Shah Nawaz away.
“I hate you Shanno, I hate you!”
“Sir…!”
“Shall I clasp you to my breast as my beloved student, or kick you for a traitor?”
“Sir, what wrong have we done?”
“Shanno, you fool, you didn’t respect the salt you ate.”Shah Nawaz calmed down, “Whose salt?” he asked.
“The Army’s, the King Emperor’s.”“I am sorry sir! Why should I come to British shores to eat your Emperor’s salt? What I have tasted is the salt of my own land!”“Totally misguided by the enemy,” the agitated Collins spat, “If only you had stuck to your goal, you would have definitely become commander-in-chief. You have destroyed your future with your own hands, my boy!”“Sir, I consider it a boon from Allah, peace to be on him, for letting me be an ordinary guard at Netaji’s doors rather than become a commander of the treacherous British army!”
“Stop it, you bustard!” roared Collins. “Netaji, he says…you mean that Bose…driven by ambition, that power-hungry fellow, willing to join hands with the Japs- that Bengali traitor.”
“Collins, Sir, mind what you say,” shot Shah Nawaz. “Had it been anyone else I would have ripped his tongue out. How can you understand what Netaji stands for, what Gandhiji means?”
“Bose must be a magician!”“Yes, indeed he is a wizard. What were we, sir? Soldier’s simpletons who had sworn undying loyalty only to fill our stomachs. Our dreams, what were they? A career, promotion, pay, more pay, a wife, a couple of chubby children, the army club, the mindless parties. We sold our consciences cheap, sir, for the medals on our chests! Did my country figure anywhere on the world map? Once we met Netaji we saw the real contours of the country. Association with him stripped the veil from our eyes and we began to identify with our land, our soil, the very air we breathe!”“Reconsider your decision, son! You are young!”
“Why? Is my youth a disqualification for the noose?”“Don’t be a fool, listen to me. The generosity of the British is boundless like the ocean!”“What are you trying to say?”
“You can still retrieve your career.”
“How ?” Shah Nawaz asked sharply.
“I discussed the matter with the command H.Q. before I came here. You will get back the same job, the same seniority. On your own merit you can still become the Commander-in-Chief, the avenue is still open for you.”Shah Nawaz could not hold back any longer, “Sir,” he asked pointedly, "why this concern?”“Shanno, just agree to become a defense witness. That way, Bose and his mercenaries, and the Japs, will be discredited.”The words pierced Shah Nawaz’s heart, and his mind went into turmoil. He cried out, “Sir, don’t even utter such words. It is only once a while that we encounter a noble soul in our life. And even if his fading shadow falls on us, we will feel enlightened. Perhaps I will become Commander-in-Chief. But what after that? Six feet of earth over me, isn’t it? All the medals and honors from a life time of sycophancy will laugh at my corpse! How can your promise of promotion be compared with the great glory that one gets for being Netaji’s soldier?”Collins was speechless. He sighed, “Son, either I failed as a tutor, or I was unable to understand you fully.”
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Gurbaksh’s old father and wife were waiting outside the barracks, requesting a meeting, he came out. Gurbaksh’s father began, “Arre Bakshi, your elder brother is counting his last days. Your old mother keeps vigil by his bedside day and night. If you are sent to the gallows, what will we do – loosing both our sons – where should we drown ourselves?”
“Bauji, thousands of our companions starved to death in Kaladan valley. Hundreds were washed away by the Sittang River. To gain victory over Bishenpur, so many were sacrificed. Had they no mothers? No sister.”Bauji wiped his eyes and whispered to his son, “An officer from the Lahore Commissioner had come a couple of nights back. My son, some thing can be done even now.”“Like what?”“You can become a major once more.”“That’s all?”“Your family will even get a small jagir in Punjab.”“And what do I have to do for that?" Bakshi asked warily.
“No going to the congress for help, surrender to the Government. Listen to me, son. Heed these white hairs,” Bauji wept as he placed his turban at Bakshi’s feet.
“Bauji, a rock never bleeds. Because I can steel myself when required, Netaji entrusted the reigns of the Nehru Brigade in my hands. Why are you hankering after a jagir? Even if ten such jagirs were offered for free, they would not equal one Netaji. No Bauji, I can never betray Netaji – it is tantamount to betraying myself.”“Beta, don’t obey the British, fine. But will you at least follow our sacred Sikh religion? The Akal Takht is prepared to plead your case in court.”“Bauji, Shah Nawaz received a similar message. Barrister Jinnah and the Muslim League are willing to represent him. If Shah Nawaz fights for the Muslim and I fight for the Sikhs, the who will fight for Netaji’s dream of a mighty, united India? Who will weep for it?”Bauji could not say any thing. Basant looked at Gurbaksh in his tattered clothing. Then she spoke, “In the 1942 movement I led a women’s morcha in Lahor’s Anarkali Bazaar. I was arrested. Bauji suggested that I appologise to the British Govt.”Holding his breath, Bakshi asked, “And?”“I refused. So he shut the door on me.”“Bauji, what is this?”“Beta, I didn’t want it to jeopardize your career, that’s why I asked her to do it, But she turned out to be even tougher than you.”Bakshi broke into a smile to laud her, “Wah Basant, you are the perfect companion of a tiger.”
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Two cars skidded to a halt outside the barracks. Prem saw curiously as his father Accharuram emerged, a judge at the Lahore High Court, from the first one. The judge introduced his son to his companion, “this is Barrister Bhulabhai Desai.”
Bhulabhai exclaimed, “Acchcharuram, I am proud of your son.” He added, “look judge sahib, had Prem not joined the Army, he wouldn’t have been drawn to Subhas.”“Papaji, Netaji’s exhortations come straight from his heart. They were so powerful that even the dead would have been roused.”
Just then a car drove through the main gates of Lal Quila and Nehru stepped out. Slogans of “Chalo Dilli! Chalo Dilli!” And “Netaji Zindabad!” echoed off the fort walls. In the last few days the whole nation was caught in the Azad Hind Fauj wave. It wasn’t a wave- more like a typhoon. Not since the Non-cooperation movement of 1930 had the masses come out to the streets in such large numbers in support of a cause.
Congressmen deliberately refrained from any mention of Subhas Chandra Bose or the Azad Hind Fauj. But, Subhas’s supporters were well aware of the activities of the Azad Hind Fauj thanks to the National Press. They came to the congress rallies and cried out “Jai Hind” and “Chalo Dilli”. When the Congress and the Muslim league realized that the people’s response to the Azad Hind was genuine, they hastened to support it.
Nehru’s Patna rally was particularly notable. After the welcome address of Rajendra Prasad, the audience started shouting slogans. Two Veterans of the Azad Hind Fauj was pushed on to the dais. Nehru looked skeptically at the two scrawny jawans in front of the mike in their tattered khaki uniforms. But the manner in which they stood in their tunics, the way the sinews in their throats stood out as they roared, “Jai Hind!” the fierce pride in their voices as they uttered “Subhas,” “Azadi,” and “Watan,” left Nehru speechless. The two men sang,
Hindu ho ya Musalman, Sikh ya Isai saare,
Maati ke nain such hain, Mata ke hum dulare.
Sabse ooncha hai jhanda hamara
Netaji Zindabad, azad karenge…The audience was left spellbound by these Azad Hind songs. Nehru too was deeply moved, and like a young scout, Nehru moved forward, waving the tricolour, he joined the two men and sang and danced to their songs.
In his heart of hearts, Nehru was worried. Subhas couldn’t possibly be obsessed by power and authority. He had given up his appointment to the prestigious Indian Civil Service as easily as throwing something into the dustbin. He had suffered prison eleven times, and had been battered by lathis. Nehru read his recently published war speeches very carefully. “In this mortal world everything perishes and will perish, but the goals and aspirations are immortal. An individual may die so that the nation can survive. Let me die but let my motherland, Bahrat, live on.” Is it possible to achieve this spirit, this supreme self-sacrifice and total dedication with out a baptism by fire?Nehru entered the visitors’ room. An emotional Nehru addressed Bhulabhai, “For the defense of the Azad Hind I will don the barrister’s robe myself and take the stand.”“Don’t you think it will be a little difficult for you to defend Subhas at this late stage?” Bhulabhai asked eyeing Jawahar quizzically.
“It’s true,” Jawahar mumbled.
“All of us, not just Gandhiji, even you and I, did not loose a single opportunity to humiliate Subhas after the Tripuri Congress,” Bhulabhai said. “Whether we like it or not, Subhas went to the east and shown like a star. He has become a part of History.”Nehru asked that the three prisoners be brought to the visitors’ room. No sooner were they brought in when it seemed as if all the prisoners in the fort had sung in unison.
“Netaji ki jai!”“Nehru Zindabad!”“Lal Qile se ayi awaz Dhillon, Sehgal, Shah Nawaz!”“We will not abandon you at this critical juncture, when the nation is on the path to the freedom. Isn’t it, Bhulabhai?”Prem had been silent all this while but he was unable ro contain himself any longer, “Chachaji,” he said, his voice raising sharply, “all of you are advocates of non-violence. We are Netaji’s warriors. If the Congress Party’s ahimsa image is going to be blackened as a result of our swords, why do you want to enter the fray? Leave us to our fates.”“Don’t get emotional. We will consider you macquis.” said Nehru.
This comment had a remarkable effect. For a moment, the three men did not know who had spoken to them. Netaji? Nehru? So many times they had heard the story of Macquis from Netaji. Every time they were lost on their path was obscured by darkness, Netaji had reminded his compatriots of Garibaldi, Cavour and the macquis. Thus, Prem calmed down.
Nehru stood up to leave. He threw one last look at the trinity, then swallowing the lump on his throat, he said to Bhulabhai, “ I want to use every one of Subhas’s colleagues in the task of nation building. I don’t want to loose them among the millions thronging for freedom.” Nehru left but his warm reassuring words remained behind.
Bhulabhai said to Achcharuram, “Judge sahib, god grant that Nehru’s sentiments endure.” “What?”
“When Jawahar is smitten by an idea, it completely overwhelms him; this doesn’t always mean that those optimistic emotions last very long.”

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The trial proceedings were to begin on November13th 1945. But, the atmospherewas tense and the case was case was postponed by three weeks. The news spread like a wildfire and thousands began rushing to the Lal Quila.

Lord Wavell, the Governor General was extremely uneasy. It was a crisis situation for the British Govt. who wanted to know what the reactions to this court case were going to be in every corner of the country. On the day of the hearing, a total hartal had been observed not only in cities like Bombay, Calcutta, Madras and Delhi, but even as far as Lido in Assam. Workers, students and government clerks had all boycotted work. Besides, the Gurudwara Prabandhak Committee in Amritsar had donated Rs.7000 to the Azad Hind Bacho Fund. A huge rally of over lakh people was held in Calcutta’s Deshapriya Park to save the Azad Hind Fauj. The municipalities of Pune, Kanpur and Madras had also liberally contributed to it. The tongawalas of Amaravati went around with tins collecting contributions for the Azad Hind. The Muslim League, the Congress and the Communist Party had all joined hands. The law enforcement authorities in Rawalpindi and Karachi had informed them that even in the smaller towns at least fifty thousand people gathered together. One of Wavell’s commanders remarked snidely, “Sir, the situation in Bengal is not good either. There are at least ten thousand students are milling around Wellington Square at any given point of time.”

“I am aware of that,” Wavell replied. “In many cities, there are more Muslims who support Subhas than Barrister Jinnah. But all this must stop at once. We are sitting on a volcano that is about to erupt.”

Bhulabhai spoke, “I consider myself supremely blessed to have the opportunity to argue this case. But I am sad that I was unfortunate enough not to have been in East Asia to see the exceptional figure of Netaji in person."

The Govt. emphatically told the court that the Azad Hind Fauj was a band of rebels. Wagging his finger at the judge, Bhulabhai stated, “Milord, it was not a band of rebels at all. It was the cry for freedom erupting out of thirty-eight crore throats. The Azad Hind had its own government.”

“What Govt.? Did it have even a square inch of the land under its control?”

Bhulabhai summoned Hachiya, who was the Japanese Ambassador in Netaji Subhas Bose’s parallel govt. Looking the judge in the eye Hachiya spoke, “Milord, the Japanese Parliament, the Diet, has accorded recognition to the Azad Hind Fauj. Our govt. had handed over the Andaman and Nicober Islands to Netaji. Not only that, we have even granted them fifty square miles of fertile lands in Ziyawaddy, in Burma. Besides, when the Japanese Army marched into Manipur along with the INA, all the territory we conquered was handed over to Netaji. Our Prime Minister Tojo made this categorical announcement in the Parlianment.”

After Hachiya’s deposition, Bhulabhai once again reminded the court how eight nations including Japan, Germany, Italy, Indo-China and Burma had accorded recognition to the Azad Hind Govt.

He then called in Major General Katakura to the defence box and asked, “You had drawn up the first plan for the Imphal campaign, had you not? Answer just one question. What did you give Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose then?”

“What didn’t we give! Vast sums of money for the army, recognition of his policy. But more than that, fifty thousand Japanese soldiers gave their lives in the Imphal campaign for his sake.”

“Mr.Katakura, what do you mean by ‘for his sake’?” Bhulabhai asked.

“We had planned the Imphal campaign before Netaji arrived in Japan. But the military officials abandoned it, as it would have been impractical and highly expensive.”

“Then why did you revive the plan and march to Imphal?”

“There is only one answer to this complicated question – Subhas Chandra Bose,” declared Katakura. “Netaji’s personality is like that. His fervour, his willingness to undergo any suffering inspired by us. When he met our Prime Minister for the first time at the Imperial Hotel his impassioned plea for India’s freedom moved us all- it seemed as if he was standing at the gates of heaven and arguing his case before Almighty himself.”

Major Fujiwara stood up and spoke. “Netaji’s charisma was his greatest weapon. So although Tojo was compelled to resign as a Prime Minister, assistance to Netaji did not stop.”

At these words, Savda, the Japanese Deputy Minister, Ohata, Hachiya, Katakura and the other delegates rose from their seats and said together, “Netaji taught us what love for one’s Motherland is what one must be prepared to do for that love. That is his legacy.”

As he sat down Bhulabhai looked at the judge and said, “Even I can see how much damage has been caused to the British army and the empire by the establishment of the Indian National Government. If you can cast aside your prejudice and disdain for a moment, you will admit the hollowness of the case.”

An emergency meeting was in progress at the Viceroy’s residence. A messenger arrived with a confidential note “Situation in Frontier is deteriorating. Stall case at once. Province could be lost.” Message from Bombay had already declared that there was dissatisfaction in the navy and it could trigger a riot any moment. Lakhs of people would never budge from the streets of Calcutta; Punjab was smouldering. In many small towns near Madras protest fires were burning. Lord Wavell was desparate. He pounded the table and thundered, “We set up this court room drama to expose that traitor Subhas Chandra Bose and his INA. And now those swords have turned against us! The same Bose whom we wanted to discredit as a traitor, has, in absentia, become a Mahanayak, the great hero to his followers.”