Author: Ananth

The “Great Game” was an Anglo-Russian conflict over the control of Tibet, East Turkestan, and Central Asia.  In the 19^th century, this vast region was a patchwork of backward states and tribal confederacies. The Russians feared British inroads into this region from India. On the other hand, Britain feared Russia’s steady conquest of Central Asia. A cold war, peppered by minor confrontations, raged between the two empires from the 1830s to 1895. The Great Trigonometric Survey of India, a project to measure the entire Indian subcontinent with scientific precision, was also a part of the Great Game. Great feats of diplomacy, deceit, espionage and violence were accomplished in the Game – and Indian subjects also played an important part. Today we look at the “Pundits” who explored mysterious Tibet for the British Empire.

Tibet, the “roof of the world”, banned all foreigners in 1850 when the Great Game heated up. But Tibet was too important; it was the source of Asia’s great rivers. It also lay between the Raj, the weakening Chinese Empire and the Russian Empire. By 1862, multiple attempts by Englishmen to enter Tibet failed due to border brigands and vigilant Tibetan soldiers. The British now decided to utilize Indians from the border regions – after all they had been crossing the Tibet border for centuries! Buddhist pilgrims even traveled to towns and monasteries deep inside Tibet. British officers began to scout for talented (and loyal) Indian subjects from the borderlands. ‘Pundit’, which normally implies a high-caste man of learning, became the term for these recruited agents. The agents’ names were withheld from all government records till they retired; they were instead marked as “Pundit Number One”, “Pundit Number Two”, etc.

The Pundits learned to survey geographic features, estimate distances, determine altitude (by measuring the temperature of boiling water), and celestial navigation. They were trained to use code language and concealable parchments. The Pundits also received basic medical training. They were trained to walk two thousand paces to a mile to estimate distances. To keep count they used a modified Buddhist rosary, but instead of the usual 108 beads it had 100 beads – with every tenth bead being slightly larger. For every 100 steps, the 100^th larger bead was removed. The Buddhist prayer wheel hid the parchments on which the records were made in code. Other ingenious instruments were also utilized for the Pundits’ covert activities. The first Pundit, a Punjabi named Abdul Hamid, was sent to survey the route to Yarkand in East Turkestan. The most famous Pundit, called “Chief Pundit” was Rai Bahadur Nain Singh Rawat, who hailed from present-day Uttarakhand. An astute student of tradecraft and scientific surveying, Nain Singh soon became the Empire’s greatest assets in Tibet. Nain Singh soon recruited his brother Kalian Singh and his cousin Mani Singh. More Pundits were recruited from other border regions of the British Raj.

Pundits disguised as pilgrims and holy men began to slip into Tibet successfully. They took detailed records of their journeys, often at night time to avoid detection. In their long missions, they measured terrain, and recorded resources and notable geographic features. The Pundits also analyzed Tibet’s people, economy and military strength. Nain Singh conducted multiple missions into Tibet, the last one being an epic journey from Leh to Guwahati via Tibet’s capital, Lhasa. His brother Kalian, cousin Mani and another cousin Kishen Singh recorded vital information of other regions. A Pundit named Kinthup from Sikkim discovered that the Tsangpo River in Tibet was actually a tributary of the Brahmaputra. Until then it was not known if the Tsang-Po flowed into China or into South East Asia. Mt. Kailas and the early courses of the Indus and the Sutlej rivers were also surveyed by the Pundits.

The Tibetan endeavor continued for decades. Some Pundits were caught and imprisoned or executed. However, the Pundits’ dogged efforts enabled them to map the approaches and key regions of Tibet with precision. This became very valuable when the British launched the infamous Younghusband expedition to Tibet in 1903. The Pundits were rewarded with titles and posts on retiring from covert work. However, imperialism, racism and reasons of security kept their names out the limelight for years. Nain Singh himself was publicly feted years after his retirement.

While it is true that their missions were undertaken to further British aims, the Pundits deserve to be commended for their accomplishments. In fact, in 2004 the Government honored Nain Singh for his survey of the Himalayan region by issuing a stamp featuring him. For years Tibet was represented as a blank zone in all maps, the Pundits changed that. In a time without satellites or aircraft, these intrepid men provided collected vital information, against heavy odds.  This enabled the opening up of Tibet and peeled off layers of mystery surrounding that land.

PS: This is my article in DNA published on February, 2019. Here’s the link to the original article.

Britain’s conquest of India (1740s-1840s) was made possible through her unchallenged naval power. Without any Indian fleet to intercept them in the high seas, the British could do much mischief in her wars of conquest. The Mughal Navy was once respected, till the Empire unraveled after Aurangzeb’s death in 1707. Between 1691 and 1756, the Maratha fleet, despite having no ocean-going large warships, held sway over large parts of India’s Western coast. With their numerous small littoral vessels, the Marathas successfully countered foreign and Indian powers. However, naval warfare evolved and by the mid-18^th century the British became the master of India’s seas. In 1756, the East India Company’s (EIC) fewer but bigger and more modern “Blue-Water” (ocean-going) warships sank most of Tulaji Angre’s ships, off Vijaydurg in Maharashtra. Tulaji Angre was the successor to the great Maratha Admiral Kanhoji Angre and this defeat marked the end of Maratha naval power. Tulaji had recently started making bigger warships, but the few such ships he had built could not match British warships. Mysore, under Haider Ali and Tipu Sultan, set out to create a Blue-Water navy that could challenge the British Navy in the high seas. However, events beyond the Kings’ control and lack of resources wrecked this ambitious enterprise.

In 1763, Haidar Ali started building a sizeable navy. He realized that British dominance over Indian waters must end. This would open communication lines with the French (who had agreed to support Mysore’s wars against the British) and increase Mysore’s maritime trade. Otherwise, it was just a matter of time before British naval power ensures Mysore’s end. Haider Ali soon built littoral warships, transport ships and recruited mercenary European sailors. Ali Raja, the Moplah king of Arakkal in Kerala, became Haidar’s admiral. However, he was soon dismissed for invading the Maldives and blinding her Sultan without permission. Haider’s next admiral was an English mercenary. When the First Anglo-Maratha war began in 1767, the British attacked Haider’s ships and ports. Unfortunately, Haidar Ali distrusted his European officers and appointed a cavalry officer as the Admiral. This alienated the Europeans commanders and they promptly deserted to the EIC along with their ships and crew. This gutted the Mysore navy, but the war ended before Mysore faced the full might of the EIC Navy.

The Franco-American Alliance following the American Revolution led to another Anglo-French war. Mysore, an ally of France, was also drawn into this global conflict and the Second Anglo-Maratha War erupted in 1780. Haider Ali set to rebuild his fleet. For this he tasked a Dutchman named Joze Azelars, formerly of the Dutch East India Company. In a few months the Dutchman designed and built multiple warships. He also improved Haider Ali’s ports and maritime defenses. However, Azelars was obstructed at every step of the way by jealous courtiers and officers. He also faced a lack of building material, skilled shipwrights and engineers. In 1782, a powerful French fleet with 15 large warships and other vessels sailed towards India from French colonies in the Indian Ocean. This was a game changer: this war-fleet could destroy the British fleets operating in the region. There were also 2500 French marines on board, who could join Haidar Ali’s campaigns. This could put British existence in South India in jeopardy! However, the French Commodore failed to destroy British fleet.  The union with Haider’s budding navy and army – where knowledge and resources could have been shared – did not happen. This chance was lost forever when the Treaty of Paris of September 1783 led to cessation of hostilities: the French fleet returned to Europe. No comparable French fleet would ever challenge the British in Indian waters again.

Meanwhile, Haider Ali had died in December 1782 and was succeeded by Tipu Sultan.  Tipu knew that another war could break out any time: in 1786-1792, he built 40 warships and many more transport ships. In this period Tipu Sultan was defeated in the Third Anglo-Mysore War. Despite great losses Tipu persisted in his attempts to end British power in India. Tipu created a board of admiralty and ordered the construction of a world-class oceanic navy of 20 battleships and 20 large frigates. Littoral warships could handle the EIC’s ships in the shallow coasts. However, large and modern warships were required for challenging the British high seas warships. Latest advances such as copper sheathing, utilized by both British and French navies, were also adopted. The projected cost of building and maintaining these 40 large warships and other warships was high. The weakened Mysore kingdom could not afford such an expensive program, following the recent wars. However, Tipu was committed to naval expansion and he also reopened communications with the French. This ambitious naval program ended when the British finally killed Tipu Sultan and conquered Mysore in the Fourth Anglo-Mysore War in 1799.

PS: This is my article in DNA published on January 13, 2019. Here’s the link to the original article.

Today is the 47^th anniversary of the Liberation of Bangladesh. The surrender of the entire Pakistani garrison in East Bengal and the gains in the Western Sector made India the clear victor of the war of 1971. It was one of our finest hours: Indians came together, overcoming multiple crises, fears,boundaries, and institutional inertia to achieve a great feat. There are many stories surrounding this victory, one of the more interesting stories is that of a small band of soldiers of the 10 Para (Commando) battalion in the Rajasthan sector.

The Pakistanis had surprised us in the Rajasthan sector in the 1965 War. Given the comparative lack of mechanization of both Indian and Pakistani armies, it was hitherto believed that both would refrain from major campaigns in the sandy Thar Desert. The vast desert border was manned by thinly spread Indian Army and State Armed Police units in isolated posts. On the other side, the Pakistani army and the Pakistan Rangers precariously manned their positions.However, the Pakistan Army approached the Hurs, a Sufi sect with thousands of adherents in Sindh. The Hurs had once unleashed a bloody insurgency against the British, which resulted in heavy reprisals – including the hanging of the Hurs’ leader, the “Pir Pagara”. The Hurs had extensive knowledge of the desert and were known to be fanatical fighters. The generals successfully appealed to the reigning Pir Pagara to field this militia. The Hurs were initially used to plug gaps in defense, but the local commanders soon realized that the Hurs would be better suited for cross-border raiding. Soon, a “Desert Force” of Hurs (commanded by a handful of professional soldiers) began to raid deep into Indian territory.

Several Indian posts fell: even significant posts such as Ghotaru Fort were captured by the Desert Force. Indian responses were rather slow and unsuccessful. This was due to the terrain, poor lines of communications, lack of adequate force and the speed of the enemy raids. The Pakistanis retained control of several points along the Rajasthan border when the war ended. Pakistan utilized this fact to her advantage in her negotiations at the ensuing Tashkent Summit. India apparently learned the lesson: within months, the capable Border Security Force was created. The 10 Para (Commando)battalion, tasked with desert operations, was raised in Gwalior in 1967. The conventional forces in Rajasthan were also strengthened.

The reckoning came when the Indo-Pak War erupted on December 3, 1971. A division of the Indian Army was directed towards Umarkot, a city en route to the metropolis of Hyderabad, Sindh. A band of commandos from the 10 Para (Commando) was designated the advance element and tasked with raiding deep inside Pakistani territory to eliminate key enemy positions. These commandos had trained intensively for such operations since July. The commando unit was led by Lt. Col. Sawai Bhawani Singh, a special forces veteran and the Prince of Jaipur. The unit also had Khoja Rajputs who knew the region well. The force would enter enemy territory without any air or armor support, in specially fitted Jeeps and Jongas, armed with only light weapons. This model of long-distance raids was created by Sir David Stirling, founder of the British Special Air Service (SAS), during the North African campaign of the Second World War. Indians had also fought in this campaign and were aware of the utility of such a force – even though the sandy Thar Desert was far worse than the North African desert.

The raids commenced on December 4; the jeeps raced 80 km into Pakistan and destroyed the Ranger base in the town of Chachro. Indian army units soon occupied Chachro in the wake of this raid. Next, the commandos launched daylight raids to capture Virawah and Nagarparkar. Later, Islamkot and Lunio also fell. During these operations, the speed and ferocity of the attacks forced enemies to panic and flee despite having superiority in numbers and position. The militia groups tasked with defending this region also did not fare any better. Logistical difficulties and terrain – and the short duration of the war – saw the Sindh campaign halt just short of Umarkot. However,by the end of the war about 13,000 sq. km of Sindh was in Indian hands.

The Sindh campaign was made much smoother by the10 Para’s raids. This was an incredible feat, highlighted by the fact that the commandos suffered no fatalities in these risky missions. The raiders had done all that was asked of them, and more. The unit was bestowed a Battle Honor – “Chachro1971” and received 10 gallantry awards: Sawai Bhawani Singh received the Mahavir Chakra. He went on to have a distinguished career in the armed forces, and as a diplomat. The 10 Para continues to be one of the premier special forces of the world.

PS: This is my article in DNA, published on December 16, 2018. Here’s the link to the original article.

The North West Frontier

Undivided India’s North West Frontier had always been a zone of insurgency. Ruling or occupying forces, such as the Pakistanis, Americans, the British and the Mughals have faced the wrath of the fiercely independent, and warlike Pathan tribes of the region. Centuries of wars, and mythologies and clan genealogies set clan against clan and tribe against tribe – this made trade and cooperation very difficult. The harsh lands were unsuitable for producing enough food. However, it periodically produced charismatic religious figures who railed against “predatory infidels and apostates corrupting their lands and destroying their people”. Thus, wars, rebellions and predatory raids were regular affairs. Imperial powers tried to control with these tribes by force or bribes or using pliant local leaders. However, guided by tribal laws of honor and vendetta (a code collectively called Pakthunwali), the tribes answered only to their chiefs and holy men who rose through strength, piety and charisma. Some of these leaders rebelled against the imperial powers, sometimes uniting hitherto warring tribes. Peace could be wrung out, but only after much blood and gold had been spent. Over the years the “peace” would collapse in favor of the Pathans, leaving one to wonder if the tribes were ever truly defeated! The rebellions of Khushal Khan Khattak, Pir Roshan, The Akhund of Swat, Mullah Powindah, Hadda Mullah, etc. are still celebrated in the songs and stories of the region. Though the rebellion was less bloody than say, Khattak’s rebellion or the Roshanniya war, the long rebellion of the Faqir of Ipi is notable for its curious links to the Axis Powers and the Indian National Movement.

Mirzali Khan was born in 1897, into a clan of the Utmanzai tribe of North Waziristan. After religious studies he became a student of the Chaharbagh Nazqib, the greatest religious leader in Afghanistan at the time. After Hajj, he settled in Ipi, a village near the city of Bannu. Soon he became well known for his piety and acquired a reputation as a saint with divine powers. In 1936 the controversial ‘Islam Bibi’ case marked the end of his hitherto peaceful career. An alleged forcible conversion to Islam of a minor Hindu girl was judged illegal, and the girl was returned to her family by the British courts. The Faqir called for Jihad against the British in November 1936 and thousands flocked to his banner. The Faqir attracted so much support due to recent events: Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan’s Khudai-Khidmatgar movement shocked the British. Massive agitations were launched in the region when Gandhiji’s Civil Disobedience Movement began in 1930. The British retaliated strongly and many died in police firings and Air Force attacks in places such as Peshawar, Takkar and Hathikhel. Anger seethed as the British clampdown continued for years – the Islam Bibi judgement had only provided the spark.

RAF over Waziristan

The rebels struck at visible symbols of British authority, supporters of the British but rarely attacked Hindus. When the rebellion strengthened the British Army sent two columns (including armor) and chased the Faqir into the mountains. The subsequent planned withdrawal after mopping-up operations was ascribed to the Faqir’s divine powers! Now many more came to join him. He succeeded unifying some tribes and launched bolder attacks. Soon a huge force of over 40,000 soldiers were deployed to combat the Faqir. The British campaign was soon fragmented and bogged down. Their armor and vehicles were not of much use in the mountains and the Faqir’s guerilla tactics inflicted heavy damage on them. Many miraculous powers commonly attributed to the Faqir, which agitated colonial authorities. The story went that the Faqir could turn a felled tree into rifles and his hands could heal injuries. Chief among the very worried authorities was Sir Olaf Caroe, governor of the North West, veteran of the Great Game and many plots, and a seasoned administrator of British India. However, despite the Faqir’s best efforts (including a personal letter to Jawaharlal Nehru), he was unable to gather wider support outside the North West Frontier Province. Even powerful tribes such as the Afridis and the Mohmands refused to support him, perhaps fearing his stature. The Frontier Gandhi, Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan, was now wedded to Satyagraha and refused to support the bloody rebellion. The British now employed scorched earth tactics and used the Air Force heavily. Royal Air Force aircraft bombed many villages and mountains where the Faqir held sway. The British had swarmed over Waziristan and the faqir decided to move into a safe region which outsiders knew very little about. The vast cave complexes of Spin Ghar mountains, in a region called Gorwekt near the Afghan border, became the Faqir’s base. The British methodically killed his sons and hundreds of followers, but the Faqir continued to elude and harass them.

The Faqir

Many British now suspected that the Faqir’s warfighting ability had a secret sauce – he was likely funded by the Empire’s Axis enemies, Nazi Germany, Mussolini’s Italy and Imperial Japan. This was true – the Italian ambassador Pietro Quaroni was neck deep in anti-British operations in Afghanistan. He supported the Faqir with cash, technical assistance, arms and ammunition. In fact, it was this colorful diplomat who provided Subhash Chandra Bose his fake papers as an Italian nobleman and enabled him to evade British agents and enter Russia. In this he was assisted by the “Quintuple Agent” Bhagat Ram Talwar aka Rehmat Khan, code-named “Silver”, who was also apparently linked to the Faqir’s rebellion.  – but that is another story. German intelligence was also active in Kabul, under Ambassador Hans Pilger and resident chief-spy Lieutenant “Pathan” Witzel. The Germans had not-so-bizarre plans named Operation Fire-Eater and Operation Tiger, for an uprising at India’s north-western frontier in September 1941 – when the German invasion of Russia was expected to be completed. Bose was now in Berlin and had raised a small Indian Legion for the aim of liberating India through an invasion from Afghanistan. The Germans also provided aid to the Faqir through direct and indirect means. It was a long shot, but the Axis continued to feed the Faqir’s rebellion. The Axis powers felt that the Faqir’s rebellion could be channeled to unleash Afghan and Muslim rage to topple British India – a dream shared by many of the Empire’s former foes such as Lenin, the Ottoman Caliph and The German Kaiser.

The situation got murkier in late 1937 when a charismatic and well-known Syrian holy man called Shaami Pir – of Prophet Muhammed’s lineage and kinsman of an exiled Afghan King – arrived in the region. He quickly stirred up another major rebellion in the opposite direction – against the current Afghan King whom he called a usurper. There was a confusion on who was behind this new rebellion – (the Germans or Italians or Soviets or British or the exiled Afghan King). However, after a few bloody battles along the Afghan border, the wily Olaf Caroe bribed the Shaami Pir to end the rebellion and return to Syria (after bombing the Pir’s army to bits) in 1938. The Faqir of Ipi kept away from this rebellion, wary of Shaami Pir and his followers – who were from tribes that refused to join his own rebellion. Later it turned out that the Shaami Pir was tasked by other groups in the German government to cause trouble in Afghanistan but infighting within German ranks, bureaucratic rivalry and intelligence failures led to the initiative failing. If the Pir and the Faqir were brought together to attack the British, things might have been very very different!. At least it could have made a considerable dent on British hold on the region, but that opportunity had passed. The Germans would try to get both the Shaami Pir and the Faqir to raise hell on their behalf but now the situation turned unfavorable for the Axis by late 1942.

Ambassador Quaroni

On the other hand, the Faqir had narrow aims and worldviews. He did not care for Fascism or Communism or Lebensraum or the Indian independence movement. All he wanted was to eject the British from the land of the Pathans, Pakhtunistan. He took foreign assistance but also avoided being closely identified with foreigners or their proxies. As 1942 came to a close, Axis failures in Russia and Africa ended all hopes of invading India from Afghanistan. The British also persuaded the Afghan king (who was hedging his bets so far) to expel most of the Axis diplomatic mission but the remnant managed to keep funding the Faqir’s rebellion. This was to tie down British Army in the region to make things easier for the Japanese who were sweeping across South East Asia towards India. The Italians ditched the Axis in 1943 and Ambassador Quaroni promptly defected and spilled the beans to British intelligence. The Japanese advance also halted at India’s North Eastern borders by 1944. Now all hope of toppling the British Raj was lost. The consequent drying up of Axis support did not stop the Faqir – he continued his war against the British. The British for their part continued to retaliate heavily, even though the threat of invasion of India was over, and the British Raj in India was ending.

The Faqir, no fan of the Pakistan idea, now aligned with the Khudai Khidmatgars for an independent Pakhtunistan. In fact, he felt that the idea of Pakistan was an abomination created by heretical Qadianis, Ahmadis, predatory Islamic gentry, and apostates. He also realized that his land and people would be under the control of Punjabis and rich Muslims who would emigrate to Pakistan from India. Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan and the Faqir led a grand tribal conference in the city of Bannu. This conference passed a resolution calling for independent Pakhtunistan. Despite pleas to the British and the Indian leadership, no help came. The Pakistani authorities launched a major crackdown on the separatists. The Frontier Gandhi and major leaders were jailed, and all agitations were crushed. However, the Faqir escaped once again. Pakistan was now his new enemy as her government continued the British tradition of killing the Faqir’s people. There are tales of support from the Soviet Union, the Afghan King, the Khudai Khidmatgars who escaped to India and even the Indian government – support which kept alive the rebellion. The Pakistan Army and police could not get much headway in the Faqir’s home grounds. The cave complexes of Spin Ghar were vast and uncharted and the Faqir and his troops moved through them like Ghosts, evading capture and striking their new enemy. He created his own cabinet, an advisory body and a representative assembly of 180 members from the tribes loyal to his cause and held court in the caves. The Faqir of Ipi continued his rebellion from his mountain stronghold till he died in his bed in 1960, unbowed and uncaught.

The Faqir’s Grave

Today the Faqir of Ipi is largely forgotten outside his haunts. His grave still stands in Waziristan and his tale is still told in the region. When Osama Bin Laden fled to the caves in the Afghan border, historians and strategists raked up the case of the Faqir of Ipi to show how a popular and motivated movement can survive in those lands despite the efforts of the authorities. After the death of the Faqir, the rebellion faded away and the tribes were appeased through bribes and promises. Most importantly, they were left alone in the semi-autonomous F.A.T.A. (Federally Administered Tribal Area) territory of Pakistan for a long time. Today, things are back to the “normal” in the Faqir’s land: the Pakistani military (and American drones and Special Forces) now prowl the same lands and skies hunting new rebels and terrorists. Perhaps what they say is true – the more things change, the more they stay the same.

PS: This is a much expanded version of my article in DNA, published on December 2, 2018. Here’s the link to the original article.

The Anglo-Mysore Wars ended on May 1799, with Tipu Sultan’s end at Srirangapattana’s walls. This victory meant that British control of South India spread from coast to coast, with all threats eliminated. British leaders now realized that there was now the problem of measuring, charting and cataloguing the conquered land. Constructing lines of communication and infrastructure, mapmaking and assessing revenue depended on this. The fledgling British Raj’s very survival depended on measuring and charting India. British campaigns were well-planned affairs, using comprehensive knowledge of the land and people as force multipliers. With the land well-surveyed and measured to “inch-precision”, imperial control would be greatly enhanced. Such a feat would also turn India from a mystery into a well-understood entity – at least for ruling purposes. Reducing India to numbers, maps and schematics would be the ultimate victory of the scientific-minded and superior British race over India and her backward people: at least it seemed so for Britishers now gravitating towards Utilitarianism – and other theories and theologies of imperialism.

William Lambton

The great surveys of the subcontinent began with William Lambton, an officer with a scientific bent. Lambton came from humble origins and had no formal training in earth sciences or mathematics. He taught himself these disciplines after becoming partially blinded while studying an eclipse. Lambton had participated in assaulting Srirangapattana; before the battle he used celestial navigation to help the army surround Tipu Sultan’s forces. Lambton now proposed to survey the land using mathematical and geographical methods. After some deliberation, the authorities approved. While officers such as Col. Mackenzie, Hyne and Buchanan would conduct topographical, socio-political and natural surveys in India, Lambton was tasked with measuring India – an enterprise tolerating very little subjectivity and margin of error. After much preparation, the “Great Trigonometric Survey of India” commenced in 1802. This survey utilized new instruments and the “Triangulation method”, a method to compute the distance between three mutually visible reference points. Starting with a baseline of two measured points, the position of a third point could be quite accurately established. The two newly determined sides then became new baselines for further triangulations. Long chains of triangles soon shaped the maps of India. The first objective was to chart the “Great Indian Arc”, from Kanyakumari to the Himalayas.  Using this arc as a central stem, other surveys could branch out to cover entire India.

The Triangulation Grid

This colossal enterprise needed thousands of people with a wide range of skills. Many institutions began to train young Indians to serve the Survey (and other colonial projects). In 1823, Lambton died on the job near Nagpur, after surveying nearly 425,000 sq. km. of India. His assistant, George Everest, a fellow mathematician and military surveyor, succeeded him. Everest’s modifications made surveying much easier. In 1831 a British professor of Hindu College Calcutta recommended a 19-year old prodigy to Everest. This was Radhanath Sikdar, a brilliant mathematician and a co-founder of Derozio’s radical Young Bengal movement. Sikdar was recruited as a “computer” – one performing complex mathematical calculations manually. Soon Sikdar’s exploits won the respect of the British. Everest completed The Great Indian Arc and retired in 1843. His successor Andrew Waugh, yet another scientist-soldier, took the Survey forward. A few years later, Sikdar brought to Waugh interesting readings of a Himalayan mountain called “Peak XV”. Separate measurements marked this peak, locally called “Sagar-Matha”, as 29000 feet tall – the tallest in the world! Waugh and Sikdar worked for years to corroborate the amazing finding before publicizing this great discovery in 1853. Waugh named the peak “Mount Everest” to honor his predecessor. The Survey continued under Waugh’s successors and soon India was peppered with thousands of survey markers. Sikdar died in 1870, retiring early to teach math and perform social work. In 1875, all surveys were amalgamated into the Survey of India. The enormous cost and difficulty of surveying India however made complete trigonometric survey impossible. Even though the British could not reduce India into bullet points, the Survey had measured and charted the subcontinent well enough to serve the empire. The existing grid of triangulation chains sufficed to realize colonial aims such as strategic buffers, lines of communications, commerce, and infrastructure. Today, such surveys heavily depend on satellites, aircraft, cameras, sensors, etc. relaying results to surveyors far away. However, ,for ultimate verification and analysis the endeavor still requires human surveyors on the ground, braving the unknown like their predecessors did.

PS: Perhaps the new frontier for “measuring” and understanding India is not geographic or biological. Perhaps it is in “reducing” and modelling India and her people through data mining, analytics, CCTV footages, and PAN-AADHAR panopticons – for ostensibly better governance and services. May this difficult task turn out to be benevolent, and even more successful than the British surveys. Then again, as the saying goes, “the map is not always the territory”.

PS: This is my article in DNA, published on November 25, 2018. Here’s the link to the original article.

In pursuit of empire-building, the British cut down millions of acres of forests. Britain ruled the waves and her shipbuilding consumed astronomical quantities of timer. Technological progress, public works, and the industrial revolution made wood even more essential. For instance, in ironmaking Britain relied on wood for fuel, till coal became abundant in the late 18^th century. The demand for wood grew to insatiable proportions and the British heavily exploited their forests. However, when adverse impact of deforestation became quite clear, they targeted colonies such as Ireland and North America. Soon it was India’s turn. In this background, we turn to the life of Frederick “Pahari” Wilson, the “Raja” of Harsil.

In 1815, after the British saved the kingdom of Garhwal in the Anglo-Nepal wars, they claimed its eastern half of Garhwal as reward. The forests of the eastern half were so far used only for local consumption, but under British rule they were opened to large scale exploitation. In 1842, a 25-year-old Englishman named Frederick Wilson deserted the East India Company’s army and fled to the Bhagirathi valley of the Garhwal kingdom. Denied asylum by the King, Wilson had moved upland to escape British justice. He settled in Harsil (Hari-Sila), a remote region plentiful in Deodar trees. For months he lived off the land, studying the people and the region. Wilson was no ordinary grunt – he was a self-taught ornithologist and botanist and had keen business instincts. He understood his hunting skills could be used to make money. Wilson forged local connections and traded skins, fur and musk with British firms and soon made a great fortune.

A few years into his rise, Wilson began illegal logging and sold the timber discreetly. The British had by then built roads into their new domains in Garhwal and the tree-felling had increased substantially. This was also the period in which railways took off in India. When demand for wood outstripped supply, the British turned their eyes on Garhwal kingdom, where Wilson had become well established by now. In 1850, aided by the Company, Wilson gained a logging license for a paltry fee. Wilson now felled whole groves of Deodar as Deodar wood made excellent railway sleepers. Soon, thousands of tree trunks were floated down the Bhagirathi and the Yamuna every year to mills downriver. The amazing profits Wilson earned in this monopoly made the British Raj coerce the king to grant them a logging license too. Wilson became phenomenally rich and cultivated deep contacts in various power centers. Wilson astutely ushered the king into the timber business. When the King’s revenues increased, Wilson became even more powerful and more forests were opened to logging. Wilson also used his contacts to spy for the British Empire.

Fedrick Wilson

Wilson now introduced apples and rajma to the region – today these are the region’s primary cash crops. He also built hotels, mansions and even an impressive suspension bridge across the Jadh Ganga river. In the British Raj he was called “Pahari” (Mountain) Wilson for his exploits in the mountains. However, his hunting craze, avarice, and rumored brutality had an adverse impact on his image. Nevertheless, many locals adored him for bringing industry and called him the “Raja of Harsil”. He even issued coins, which remained in circulation for decades after his death. Pahari Wilson counted among his friends, luminaries such as A.O. Hume and Rudyard Kipling (whose novel “The Man Who Would be King” was partly based on Wilson).

Wilson’s Coin

But all good things come to an end. The story goes that Lord Someshwar, the regional deity became angry with Wilson for hunting animals almost to extinction and deforesting the region. The deity’s priest cursed that Wilson’s bloodline will vanish after one generation and he will be forgotten. “Pahari” Wilson died in 1883 – a death perhaps hastened by his grief regarding a wayward son. Two of his three sons died young. The surviving wayward son – rumored to have killed one of his brothers – died in 1932 after squandering his inheritance. Other progeny died young or disappeared. The last known descendant joined the Indian Air Force after World War II but was soon killed in a plane crash. It seemed that the deity’s curse worked. Frederick “Pahari” Wilson became largely forgotten outside Garhwal. However, he was not forgotten by the locals – or by environmentalists such as Sunderlal Bahuguna, the Chipko Movement leader, who held him responsible for Garhwal’ ecological troubles. Wilson’s story became more well-known after journalist Robert Hutchison published his tale in his book “The Raja of Harsil”.

Wilson’s ghost of is believed to haunt the ruins of his bridge and mansions. Regardless, the living legacy of Pahari Wilson dot the region – the roaring production of apples and rajma. Apparently, the best variety of apple there is called the Wilson Apple!

Before the British became the undisputed master of India in the early 19^th century, the European view of India was not as disdainful or prejudiced as it would come to be. In this “pre-colonial” phase foreign scholars and missionaries had immense curiosity and respect for all things Indian. India was known to be fabulously wealthy and industrious for centuries. Thousands of Europeans fired by religious zeal, or desire for knowledge, or personal ambition traveled to India. Many of them succeeded: some even became powerful lords, generals and advisors. The pre-colonial European missionaries who arrived to “dispel heathen darkness” were respectful of Indian faiths and traditions, barring some notable exceptions. They learned Indian languages and observed and local recorded traditions. Christian Friedrich Schwartz, a Lutheran missionary from Prussia, was perhaps the most fascinating of them all. During his 48 years in India, he founded numerous congregations and schools in present-day Tamil Nadu and Kerala. He was also diplomat, and an advisor and mentor to kings. Christian Schwartz arrived when war raged in India. The British, the French and numerous local powers were fighting for supremacy: the missionary was soon swept into this maelstrom.

Schwartz studied Tamil and Telugu, along with multiple European languages, before sailing to India in 1750. In India he became proficient in Sanskrit, Marathi, Urdu, and Persian. His fame spread, and thousands flocked to his schools. Schwartz’s unplanned foray into the turbulence began in 1762. Despite being a Lutheran, he agreed to provide last rites for Anglican British soldiers killed in a gunpowder explosion.  The British were impressed by his services: when they captured Madurai, they approached him again for similar services. The Company even engineered an agreement between the Lutheran and Anglican churches: Schwartz could now officiate services for Anglicans but remain a Lutheran. In 1773, the Arcot Nawab’s forces invaded and conquered Thanjavur. Thanjavur was ruled by the Maratha Tuljaji Bhonsle. Schwartz and his followers entered Thanjavur to serve the affected Christians. He soon expanded aid to non-Christians. He executed relief measures and became very popular with the people. This led to Maharaja Tuljaji (restored to his throne in 1776) inviting him to be an advisor in his court. In return for endowments to spread his faith, Schwartz agreed. However, the Company suddenly requested him to undertake a sensitive mission to Hyder Ali, King of Mysore – Hyder Ali had specifically requested that Schwartz be sent. Apparently, his fame as a polyglot of impeccable honesty had reached Mysore. For his secret messages to the British, Hyder Ali could not trust even his own men. Schwartz agreed, in the cause of peace. In Mysore, Schwartz and Hyder Ali conversed and Schwartz relayed the terms to the Company. The British refused, and Anglo-Mysore rivalry continued. Schwartz now took up his post in Thanjavur. During the 2^nd Anglo-Mysore War (1780-1784), Mysore’s armies stormed into Tamil Nadu. Schwartz once again lead the relief work. Hyder Ali continued to display respect of Schwartz by allowing him to work unmolested. Three more times Schwartz acted as the intermediary between Mysore and the British. As the Mysore armies laid waste to Thanjavur, unscrupulous court officials engaged in hoarding and corruption. This led to a major revolt, but Schwartz was able to convince the rebels to disband. After Mysore retreated, Tuljaji requested Schwartz to investigate the corruption. After Schwartz’s successful investigation, Tuljaji dismissed the corrupt officials. Tuljaji and Schwartz became closer, and the German missionary became the de-facto Raj-Guru of Thanjavur.

In 1787 Tuljaji became severely ill. On his deathbed he requested Schwartz to protect his adopted heir, the 10-year old Serfoji II. Schwartz agreed, well aware of plots to eliminate the heir. Tuljaji appointed Schwartz as the guardian and Raja-Guru of Serfoji before dying. The regent, Tuljaji’s half-brother, usurped the throne in 1793 but Schwartz fled with the prince to Madras. In 1797, the British Governor General agreed to reinstate Serfoji at Schwartz’s insistence. Company forces escorted Serfoji to Thanjavur and deposed the usurper. However, a few months before his mentee was formally crowned, Christian Schwartz passed away. The grieving Serfoji commissioned an impressive monument – a white marble sculpture depicting Schwartz on his deathbed and holding Serfoji’s hand.

Marble Monument for Schwartz

Christian Schwartz’s work as a missionary helped spread Christianity in South India.  The alumni of the public schools he founded served the civil service for decades. His institutions also trained many reputed scholars and artists. Schwartz’s role as protector, teacher and Raja-Guru to Serfoji also had a lasting impact. Serfoji proved himself to be a highly accomplished and enlightened King. During his long reign, Thanjavur became a quite well-developed state and a major cultural center. The British absorbed Thanjavur in 1855, after the last king Shivaji II died heirless, but Thanjavur remained a model kingdom emulated by princely states such as Mysore and Travancore.

PS: This is my article in DNA, published on September 30, 2018. Here’s the link to the original article.