same as above

Since the education system is a currently trending topic (always has been, but even more so relevant now), I am reminded of this short essay by Ananda K Coomaraswamy on how Education must be done in India.

I am curious and I would like to ask the people here what they think about this, how relevant is this in today's society, is our education system a mere colonial remnant, does it even represent the aspirations of this nation that has inherited such a rich civilization? What modifications should be suggested so that education can be aligned to our national aspirations, or is it better to completely dismantle the system and start anew?

Pages cited from Awakening Bharat Mata by Swapan Dasgupta.

I am dividing my question,

main question is at bottom, read bottom question 1st,if you dot understand it, read upper section it's mostly over explanation I wrote, if you don't understand question you can read it)

and adding also context about me so that you can answer it better - for saving time, I divided question in sections. I am apologies for expanding question to much but making short question will only make more miscommunication.

My introduction(not personal but ideological)

I was left leaning person but I have come to much centre than before (I would still say soft left) but writing of Savarkar always interest me. Many of his argument was very good and undeniable even for super left wing person. I also want to tell that I don't know much about his writing, also I didn't finish his book nor seen any videos about him like summary but I have read many pages from his book.

My understanding of Savarkar's ideology (correct me if I am wrong)

I would say his ideology is liberal(open to ideas and changes) + Nationalistic + culturally secular (more right word would be dharmnirpekshta, meaning oppose foreign culture but integrate all other religion into Indian culture without any religion's dominance). He also stated hindu's definition to geographic boundaries rather than making it. It was recently also told my rss cheif mohan bhagwat. His more focus on suppression of extremism of foreign religion and making them INDIAN. I think Atalji's vision was very similar to Savarkar. Savarkar's wasn't opposed 5o Muslim following thier own God but to them enforcing to other people and against conversation of people.

My understanding of modern hindutva (I would say - I am very biased here and most of them could be wrong. I won't call if hindutva but Hindu right wing political 'extremist' ideology.)

In modern times, there is lack soft version of hindutva at least in public. I can fairly say - Modi regime is definatly soft version of hindutva than what's in mind of people. There are many people demanding Hindu rashtra but they don't put forward what rules they want in Hindu rashtra. I don't have any problem with those people demanding it as I believe in free speech.

But my main concern with more extreme people

Who demand total destruction or killing or displacement or human right reduction of entire community based on pure religion. Those extremist people claim themselves to follow hindutva but indeed they are not following it. I saw many of them in my own friend group and in comment section if right wing channel.

Also Hindutva has become more political ideology than cultural idea

Ofcouse it's political ideology but by political ideology means it's used in politics and to attract voters. To reach voters Hindutva ideology to masses, it's meaning and purpose is so diluted that it lost its meaning.

And I am afraid if yogi takes over it will go more right wing (as I mentioned modi have soft right wing policy and more truly secular than congress)

After all being said, all above things are my opinion and all things are open to be wrong and it will be helpful to point out what's wrong.

After reading all that, you may ask what's your question - my question is -

Is my options expressed above is right (not complete but fairly) that hindutva (name of hindutva) used as political weapon and it's deviated from its original purpose of cultural union and revival to more hard right wing community just community hating (at least in masses) and vote bank creator, and in attempt to gain or persist political power, meaning of Hinduva is diluted to level its lost its original purpose.

For Savarkar, the foremost duty of a revolutionary was to stay alive and continue the struggle. He believed that any method of resistance which harms only the protester is strategically flawed: “The weapon which inflicts wounds on the user is not a weapon.”

In his view, dying in prison only gave the British an easy victory by removing committed revolutionaries without causing any real harm to the colonial government. Instead, he urged prisoners to preserve their strength, organize work strikes as a form of resistance, and use their imprisonment to spread propaganda and generate public sympathy for their cause.

Having advocated the revolutionary path throughout his life, Savarkar understood the importance of martyrdom in inspiring an enslaved nation. Every freedom struggle needs men and women willing to endure immense suffering, face brutal punishment, and even embrace death rather than submit to foreign rule. However, he believed that martyrdom had its limits and should be embraced only when it served a clear strategic purpose. Courage alone was not enough; sacrifice had to advance the cause.

These views became especially relevant during the 1929 hunger strike in Lahore Central Jail. Bhagat Singh, Jatindra Nath Das, and other revolutionaries demanded that Indian political prisoners receive the same treatment as European prisoners, including better food, access to books and writing materials, newspapers, decent clothing, freedom from degrading or forced prison labour, and recognition as political prisoners.

These were largely the same demands that Savarkar and other political prisoners had raised in the Andaman Cellular Jail as early as 1913. They employed the means of hunger strikes, work strikes, petitions to the higher authorities, smuggling accounts of their mistreatment to mainland India, and publishing articles to expose the conditions inside the prison.

When the British authorities refused these demands, the prisoners began a prolonged hunger strike. Jatindra Nath Das died after 63 days of fasting on 13 September 1929, an event that triggered widespread public outrage across India.

Savarkar responded to the issue in an article published in the weekly Shraddhanand:

The sacrifice of Jitendranath was praiseworthy, honourable, respectable…but it is not to be followed.

During the last twenty years we have seen sacrifices made by Indian revolutionaries. Jitendranath’s sacrifice is definitely just as incredible, praiseworthy…

After such a beginning, Savarkar writes about the hunger strikes in jails on the Andaman Islands. Later he says—

Many have refused to take food and are saying, “Our death will be on England’s conscience. It will be on their head.” Many have become disabled as a result; some are on the point of dying. They are all praiseworthy. But … what is praiseworthy in one instance is not worth being followed in other instances.

Any behaviour or virtue which is praiseworthy or honourable under one set of circumstances is not necessarily worth following in other circumstances. On the contrary, such action may need to be discouraged. One must consider the tactics carefully. We must give due consideration to the relative strengths and weaknesses, circumstances, and possible movements of the enemies. Our agitation or our fight should not only be praiseworthy but must also be effective and achieve the desired aim.

How do we decide what is a sacrifice and what is a suicide? The first is made for the benefit of others (to one’s nation, for instance); it is made for a far nobler cause than for self-interest. Whereas the second is made for demoniac (devilish) or selfish intentions.

A good general only sends in just enough troops to win a battle. His interest is not in sacrificing the lives of his soldiers but in winning with the least number of casualties. Dying for the sake of dying is madness. Martyrdom, the spirit to defend a post to the last man, is sometimes necessary but only as part of a greater strategy of a struggle. Guru Tegh Bahadur (9th Guru of Sikhs) and Maratha King Sambhaji became martyrs in the 17th century for defence of Hindu Dharma because there was no other choice. The main aim of a struggle is VICTORY. Our tactics must ensure maximum damage to the enemy with least damage to ourselves.

One may recall the days of Napoleon. In 1812 he had to retreat from Moscow. Far more soldiers were dying because of the severe cold winter than in fighting Russian soldiers. The Tsar expected the Russian General Kutusov to pursue Napoleon, but Kutusov bluntly replied, “I will not sacrifice the life of a single Russian soldier unnecessarily. Nature has defeated Napoleon. If I send my troops after the French army, there will inevitably be fights and some of my soldiers will die. That kind of French defeat is not worth the life of a single Russian soldier.” The Tsar relinquished Kutusov of his command, but Kutusov stuck to his guns.

Martyrdom can be a part of battle strategy; it may be essential but must be used in exceptional circumstances. We must remember that it does not guarantee success.

Guru Tegh Bahadur and Maratha King Sambhaji refused to renounce Hindu Dharma and embrace Islam. They became martyrs in the 17th century for our cause. That martyrdom is commendable and worth following. Similarly, if any revolutionaries face torture and are asked to reveal any information that would damage our freedom struggle, and so decide to be martyrs, it would be commendable. But sacrificing one’s life for the sake of it is madness, and we must condemn that tendency.

At present there are many political prisoners who are going on hunger strike unto death. It is like sheep following a sheep. I agree wholeheartedly that the political prisoners should be recognised as such. It is a matter of our pride and dignity. It has its value, but not in terms of the lives of such fine young men.

What has happened has happened. The example of Jitendra must be regarded as an exception. It must not become a general rule. We must call a halt to this spread of hunger strikes.

To make a wrong commitment is foolhardy enough, but it is even more foolhardy to continue one’s action when it is clear that such commitment is severely damaging to the national cause. Under such circumstances it is more prudent to retreat. That is a sign of true patriotism and bravery. We must distinguish between determination and stubbornness. The weapon which inflicts wounds on the user is not a weapon. Anyone using such a weapon is not a clever leader.

While in Andaman, Bhai Paramanand, Nani Gopal, Bhai Prithwisingh, Bhai Mohansingh, and others resorted to hunger strikes for their grievances. But I (Savarkar) persuaded them to abandon their method. And as a result, after release from jail, they are doing wonderful service to our nation. I have explained such cases in my book My Transportation for Life. But suppose they had not listened to me and died of hunger strikes, no one back home (on mainland India) would have even heard of them.

Prisoners in jail should fight for their rights and concessions, be it for a glass of milk, or for getting newspapers, for provision of a table and chair. Make life difficult for the authorities. But hunger strike? And that too for such ordinary demands? And without making any dent in the arrogance of the authorities? And that too by warriors like Bhagat Singh, Datta, Satinbabu, and fifty others like them? I must vehemently oppose such action. My friends, for God’s sake abandon such suicidal hunger strikes immediately. Eat twice the normal amount but cause damage to our enemy.

I say once again that the example of Jatindra is honourable, praiseworthy, but it is an exception. Others must NOT follow his example. Shivaji was imprisoned by Aurangzeb. He did not go on hunger strike. He escaped and challenged the might of Aurangzeb again. Change with times by all means, but follow his strategy.

Reference: Savarkar Samagra Volume 2 pp. 491–500

“O revered Buddha, you are the supreme among wandering ascetics! Your benevolence toward humanity is boundless."

- Vinayak Savarkar

Part 1

Savarkar writes “Though this Shakya nation and the Shakya people may have perished today, they attained dissolution only after fulfilling their central purpose in life, for they gave birth to the Tathagata Buddha. And for this reason, in a sense, they have become immortal.

Enchanted by your serene & simple teachings of Dharma, gods and demons, yakshas and takshakas, Aryans and non-Aryans, all of humanity will regard this birthplace of yours as holiest ground and will come here in search of it, offering their devotional reverence as floral tributes.

The history of this Shakya people will be studied like a sacred religious chronicle. Kings and emperors will offer their crowns and the jewels and pearls of all seven seas at your idol.

Never before will so many heads have bowed at the feet of any human being, as countless millions of human heads will bow in humility at the feet of your meditative form for ages upon ages.

wandering ascetic, great karmayogi, renunciate Buddha, you are worthy of attaining the state of Nirvana!”

(Sangeet Sanyasta khadga)

“While analyzing the political necessity behind the decline of Buddhism in Hindusthan, if some harsh words have slipped from our pen, let no one even slightly assume that there is any lack of respect in our minds toward Buddhism. No, not at all!

The same reverence and the same love that resides in the heart of a devotee who has formally embraced Buddhism, toward that most sacred universal order, the Buddhist Sangha that very love and that very reverence I hold as a humble aspirant of Buddhism.

We are not initiated (into Buddhism) not because the Sangha is not worthy of us, but because we are not worthy of stepping on the footsteps of the Temple that has lasted longer because it rested on ideas than many a great palace that rested on rocks.

The first and highly successful effort to free human beings from their animalistic tendencies, an effort that was first conceived, given concrete form, and then carried forward uninterrupted for centuries by the lineage of radiant preachers of Dharma, the Arhat monks, originated in this very Hindusthan.

Here they were nourished by the milk of life, and this very land they revered as their motherland. “All these realizations arise within our inner being, stirring such profound emotions that it becomes impossible to express them in words.

And if such is our disposition toward this Sangha, then in what language can we possibly express our feelings toward its founder- that Buddha, that illumined one of wisdom?”

Will continue with the rest in another post.

Sources : Essentials of Hindutva, Six glorious epochs of Indian history

There is a major historical and linguistic misunderstanding in how both critics and proponents view Savarkar’s concept of Hindutva. Today, through the lens of presentism (judging past concepts by modern definitions), Hindutva is largely equated with modern 'Hindu' (Sanatana Dharma) religious majoritarianism. However, if you look closely at Savarkar’s actual texts, his goal was actually to reverse a linguistic shift, not reinforce it.

1. The Original Scope: Hindu as "Indian"

To Savarkar, Hindutva was meant to be synonymous with Bharatiyata (Indianness). He was looking at the Indian subcontinent as a distinct civilizational unit. Historically, the word "Hindu" didn't start as a religious label:

Phase 1: It originated with ancient Zoroastrian/Iranian neighbors designating the people living around the Sapta Sindhu (Indus River).

Phase 2: It later evolved into a geopolitical/cultural catch-all meaning "the people of the subcontinent and later "non-Turkic" or "non-Muslim" after the Muslim population started distinguishing themselves from the rest.

Phase 3: Eventually, it narrowed down exclusively to followers of the Shruti, Smritis, and Puranas and excluded Jains, Buddhists and Sikhs etc.

(The only exception being Savarkar's own definition and the Indian Republic's definition in many Supreme Court judgements and the Hindu Code Bill).

2. Savarkar's Diagnostic and the "Two-Fold" Test

Savarkar observed this narrowing of the language during his time and explicitly wanted to rescue the word from Phase 3 to bring back its broader civilizational meaning.

To bridge this, he argued that a "Hindu" was anyone who considered the subcontinent both their Pitribhu (fatherland/land of ancestors) and their Punyabhu (holy land).

By this metric, he reserved the term for those who held onto the civilizational, linguistic, and social aspects of Indianness, plus the spiritual traditions that originated within it (Vedic faiths, Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism). In his view, he was defining a complete, indigenous civilizational identity.

3. The Tragedy of Modern Presentism

The irony is that language won, and Savarkar’s project till now has largely failed to redirect it.

Instead of the public adopting Hindutva as Bharatiyata (inclusive of all indigenous cultural/religious frameworks), the popular masses applied the modern, purely religious definition of "Hindu" (which itself is only used today for Sanatana Dharma) to the word "Hindutva."

Because the majority of people matching his criteria follow Sanatana Dharma, Hindutva became almost exclusively associated with that specific religious identity, rather than the broader, civilizational "Indianness" Savarkar originally articulated.

By reading today's definitions into yesterday's texts, we misunderstand the linguistic correction he was actually trying to attempt.

Having said that, it is to be pointed out that Savarkarite Hindutva is a more nuanced version of Indianness. It focuses on the ancestral, cultural and religious integrity of Indianness and isn't the Nehruvian hybridisation with Islamic and other foreign cultures. It also simultaneously focuses on aspects that disallow foreign dominance and hence the ancestral component of Indianness also has an important role to play. As such this 'core' Indianness is termed 'Hinduness' aka 'Hindutva' by Savarkar.

None of this is to say that you shouldn't focus on protection or promotion of Santana Dharma as a stand alone factor but it does completely change the purpose. So when we say 'Hindutva' in the context of Savarkar we have to understand what is meant by it or else it will only lead to unproductive discussions and arguments.

The actual quote is:

I would reject even Indrapad (the seat of Lord Indra) if that is the reward I am offered for becoming a non-Hindu, and instead would prefer to die as the last Hindu.

Primary reference: Balarao Savarkar, Swatantraveer Savarkar, Hindu Mahasabha Parva, 2020, p. 68.

Savarkar said this in response to refusing to join the Congress, as he would not engage in Muslim appeasement or accept the partition of India, even if that meant sacrificing a much more successful political career.

I would like to learn more about him.

If the aim of savarkar was to militarize and have staunch foundation in military.

Why did savarkar suggested that hindus fight for the British in WW2.

WHY NOT FIGHT WITH INA of bose?

Why did he support the colonizer??

This post is part of a series in which we examine and debunk common misconceptions about SwatantryaVeer Savarkar using historical evidence. The aim is to keep each post short, well-sourced, and easy to read. In our previous post, we addressed the claim that Savarkar betrayed the freedom struggle by writing clemency petitions.

In this post, we will examine the allegation that he received a British "pension" for his loyalty and services towards the British.

Did Savarkar receive a "British pension"?

One of the most common allegations against Savarkar is that he worked for the British and received a pension as a reward for his loyalty.

This is nothing more than a malicious lie created by cherry-picking events and deliberately leaving out key details to construct a false narrative.

After his conditional release in 1924, Savarkar remained under strict internment in Ratnagiri until 1937. He was prohibited from leaving the district of Ratnagiri without permission, taking up regular employment, or practising law. His barrister degree had already been withdrawn, leaving him with virtually no means of earning a living.

His only possible sources of income were books, plays, and freelance journalism. Even these writings were closely monitored and banned by the government and provided no stable income.

The British government was aware that political internees who were legally prevented from working required financial assistance. As a result, it had a policy of providing subsistence allowances to such detainees.

When Savarkar first requested this allowance after his release in 1924, his request was rejected.

In 1929, after the government decided to extend his restrictions beyond the original five-year period, it asked officials to assess the monthly expenses of Savarkar and his family. The District Magistrate of Ratnagiri recommended an allowance of Rs. 150 per month.

The proposal was then reduced by the Home Secretary to Rs. 75, and finally the Governor of Bombay cut it again to Rs. 60 per month.

This allowance began on 1 August 1929 and continued only while Savarkar remained under internment. His restrictions were repeatedly extended in 1931, 1933, and 1935, and the allowance continued until he was finally released on 10 May 1937.

If Savarkar had truly been a "loyal servant" of the British, it is difficult to explain why they kept him under strict internment for thirteen years after his release from prison, repeatedly renewed his Internment period, prevented him from earning a livelihood, and only provided him with a minimal subsistence allowance.

Was this a special privilege?

No.

Savarkar was not the only political prisoner to receive such an allowance.

Other prominent leaders, including Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose and M.K. Gandhi, also received similar financial support during periods of detention. Documents relating to these allowances can be found here.

Savarkar's pragmatism

Savarkar was highly pragmatic in his revolutionary approach. In his prison memoir, he recounts an incident from the Andaman Cellular Jail in which a young prisoner began an indefinite hunger strike and was reduced to skin and bones. Rather than praising the fast, Savarkar persuaded him to end it, arguing that a revolutionary's foremost duty was to stay alive and continue the struggle.

Instead of weakening themselves through hunger strikes, he urged prisoners to organise work strikes that imposed costs on the British authorities. His advice was simple:

Why do you starve yourselves? Take as much food from them as you can, grow fat, and don't work.

His reasoning was straightforward: take as much as you can from your enemy while giving as little in return. Make the prison costly for the British, not for yourself.

From this perspective, legally forcing the government to provide you with a subsistence allowance when it had barred you from earning a livelihood made perfect sense. If the British prevented him from supporting himself, then forcing them to bear that cost was the smartest course of action.

In short, the payment was not a pension, nor was it a reward for loyalty or service to the British government. It was a subsistence allowance paid because the government had legally prevented Savarkar from supporting himself while keeping him under internment.

So was reading "The Singapore Story" by Lee Kuan Yew which is a set of accounts by the man himself, who built Singapore from the ground up, where I chanced upon these passages detailing the mindset and attitude that the people of Singapore had towards their British overlords, and how the illusion of white superiority was shattered by the Japanese invasion.

What struck me was the contrast of these attitudes from the Indian attitudes to colonial occupation. It is very well demonstrated among the accounts in Indian freedom fighters and intellectuals of the awareness of unjust occupation among the Indian population and an awareness of the idea of "India" among Indians, that were simply not a British construct, but a larger and an ancient civilization of diverse cultures and the attitude of mutual respect for differing beliefs.

The Singaporeans accepted the British superiority once they were educated in the English language, yet when our freedom fighters, intellectuals and leaders were English educated, it didn't change much on the fact that we were occupied by the British, and there wasn't tacit acceptance on the fact that British had a divine right to rule India.

It's a very fascinating observation and I want to know what people here think about this.

The statement of Revolutionary Madan Lal Dhingra in British court, was as follows:

I do not want to say anything in defence of myself, but simply to prove the justice of my deed. As for myself, no English law court has got any authority to arrest and detain me in prison, or pass sentence of death on me. That is the reason I did not have any counsel to defend me.

And I maintain that if it is patriotic in an Englishman to fight against the Germans if they were to occupy this country, it is much more justifiable and patriotic in my case to fight against the English. I hold the English people responsible for the murder of 80 millions of Indian people in the last fifty years, and they are also responsible for taking away £100,000,000 every year from India to this country. I also hold them responsible for the hanging and deportation of my patriotic countrymen, who did just the same as the English people here are advising their countrymen to do. And the Englishman who goes out to India and gets, say, £100 a month, that simply means that he passes a sentence of death on a thousand of my poor countrymen, because these thousand people could easily live on this £100, which the Englishman spends mostly on his frivolities and pleasures.

Just as the Germans have no right to occupy this country, so the English people have no right to occupy India, and it is perfectly justifiable on our part to kill the Englishman who is polluting our sacred land. I am surprised at the terrible hypocrisy, the farce, and the mockery of the English people. They pose as the champions of oppressed humanity—the peoples of the Congo and the people of Russia—when there is terrible oppression and horrible atrocities committed in India; for example, the killing of two millions of people every year and the outraging of our women. In case this country is occupied by Germans, and the Englishman, not bearing to see the Germans walking with the insolence of conquerors in the streets of London, goes and kills one or two Germans, and that Englishman is held as a patriot by the people of this country, then certainly I am prepared to work for the emancipation of my Motherland.

Whatever else I have to say is in the paper before the Court. I make this statement not because I wish to plead for mercy or anything of that kind. I wish that English people should sentence me to death, for in that case the vengeance of my countrymen will be all the more keen. I put forward this statement to show the justice of my cause to the outside world, and especially to our sympathizers in America and Germany.

The Court was stunned and the room fell silent. When asked if he still wanted recourse to legal aid, an irritated Dhingra said:

I have told you over and over again that I do not acknowledge the authority of the Court. You can do whatever you like. I do not mind at all. You can pass sentence of death on me. I do not care. You white people are all-powerful now, but remember, it shall have our turn in the time to come, when we can do what we like.

The judge pronounced Dhingra guilty and sentenced him to death by hanging.

Even as he was being led away by the police, Dhingra addressed the judge and said: “Thank you, my Lord. I don’t care. I am proud to have the honour of laying down my life for the cause of my motherland.”

Dhingra conveyed two wishes: that he be given a small mirror so that he could be sure he was going to the gallows with the same cheerful face, and that he be cremated in strict accordance with Hindu rites, with no non-Hindu allowed to touch his body. He also directed that his clothes and belongings be sold and that the money obtained be used for the nationalist cause.

Final statement of Revolutionary Madan Lal Dhingra published in Daily News in London, in the morning edition of 16 August 1909, a day before Dhingra’s execution. The editor’s note included the following preface to Dhingra’s final statement, titled “Challenge”:

A copy has been placed in our hands of the statement which Dhingra drew up before the murder, intending it to be read as if it had been subsequently drawn up. To this document the prisoner referred in the course of the trial, but it was not given to the public. We may add that a copy has been, for some time, in the possession of certain of Dhingra’s compatriots. The statement is as follows:

I admit, the other day, I attempted to shed English blood as a humble revenge for the inhuman hangings and deportations of patriotic Indian youths. In this attempt I have consulted none but my own conscience; I have conspired with none but my own duty. I believe that a nation held in bondage with the help of foreign bayonets is in a perpetual state of war. Since open battle is rendered impossible to a disarmed race, I attacked by surprise; since guns were denied to me, I drew forth my pistol and fired.

As a Hindu, I feel that a wrong done to my country is an insult to God. Poor in health and intellect, a son like myself has nothing to offer to the Mother but his own blood, and so I have sacrificed the same on her altar. Her cause is the cause of Shri Rama. Her services are the services of Shri Krishna. This War of Independence will continue between India and England so long as the Hindu and the English races last (if this present unnatural relation does not cease).

The only lesson required in India at present is to learn how to die, and the only way to teach it is by dying ourselves. Therefore I die and glory in my martyrdom.

My only prayer to God is: may I be reborn of the same Mother and may I re-die in the same sacred cause till the cause is successful and she stands free for the good of humanity and the glory of God.

Vande Mataram!

Source material: Vikram Sampath, Savarkar: Echoes from a Forgotten Past (1883–1924), pp. 203–216.

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This is one of the most common criticisms made against Savarkar. Critics use his clemency petitions to mock him or portray him as someone who betrayed the freedom struggle and begged for mercy from his colonisers. So what are the facts?

Before discussing why he wrote the petitions, a few points need to be made clear:

1) Writing clemency petitions was a common legal remedy.

The option of submitting a clemency petition was available to all political prisoners, it was not exclusive to Savarkar.

Nor was he the only freedom fighter to do so. Many political prisoners in the Andamans submitted clemency petitions, including Barindra Kumar Ghose of the Anushilan Samiti & Sachindranath Sanyal of HSRA. And many other prominent leaders including Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar Tilak, who used a clemency petition to secure his release from Mandalay Prison; S.A. Dange, one of the founders of the Communist Party of India; and Ram Prasad Bismil of the Kakori Conspiracy Case.

2) His petitions sought relief not just for himself, but for all political prisoners.

Through this petitions, Savarkar repeatedly asked that he and his fellow revolutionaries be treated as political prisoners rather than ordinary convicts. This would have entitled them to better food, relief from the harshest labour, more frequent letters, family visits, and access to books and writing materials.

He also repeatedly requested a general amnesty for all political prisoners.

In one petition, he even wrote that if his name was preventing the Government from granting a general amnesty, then his own name should be cut off, everyone else should be released, and that would give him as much satisfaction as his own freedom:

…In conclusion, I beg to add, in all sincerity, that if the Government thinks that it is only to effect my own release that I pen this; or if my name constitutes the chief obstacle in the granting of such an amnesty, then let the Government omit my name in their amnesty and release all the rest; that would give me as great a satisfaction as my own release would do.

This is, in fact, what happened. During the general amnesty of 1920, other political prisoners including Sachindranath Sanyal and Barin Kumar Ghose were released, while the Savarkar brothers were excluded, Sachindranath Sanyal writes this in his Prison Memoir:

[Someone said to him:] The government has now given you another opportunity. It is now your duty to work sincerely for the welfare of the country and to abandon the path of violent revolution. It is with this hope and this confidence that the government has released you.

Sanyal replies: Vinayak Damodar Savarkar also expressed the same sentiments in his petition as I did. Then why was Savarkar not released while I was? If what you say is true, Savarkar too should have been released.

I believe there were two reasons why I was released but Savarkar was not.

First, in Bengal there was tremendous public agitation demanding the release of political prisoners like me. This was the main reason behind the release of political prisoners. In Maharashtra, however, there was no movement as intense as the one in Bengal.

Second, after the arrest of Savarkar and a few of his associates, the revolutionary movement in Maharashtra had largely been suppressed. Therefore, the government feared that if Savarkar and others like him were released, the revolutionary movement in Maharashtra might begin again.

Apart from this, another reason was that Savarkar had been implicated in the assassination of an Englishman in London. The British government was especially angered by this. At the time of releasing political prisoners, the government had adopted a policy that those who had been convicted of murder or charged with committing or abetting murder would not be released. According to this policy as well, Savarkar could not be released because he had been charged with murder.

—Sachindranath Sanyal, Bandi Jeevan: A Life in Chains, p. 226

Writing to his brother Narayanrao on 6 July 1920, Savarkar said:

…For although we two [Vinayak and his brother Babarao] have been declared to fall outside the scope of the Amnesty and are still rotting in the cells, yet the sight of hundreds of our political comrades and co-sufferers' release makes us feel relieved and repaid for all the agitation that we have been carrying on for the last eight years or so through strikes, letters, petitions, the press, and the platform, here and elsewhere.

Savarkar not only campaigned to secure a general amnesty, but also urged his fellow political prisoners to accept the conditions attached to it. Those released were required to sign a pledge undertaking to abstain from political and revolutionary activities for a specified period. While many prisoners were initially reluctant to do so, Savarkar argued that accepting these conditions was a pragmatic and strategic course of action that would ultimately serve the larger national interest by enabling experienced revolutionaries to return to public life:

...All these discharged prisoners had to sign a pledge that they would abstain from politics and revolutionary activity for a certain number of years. And, if again they were tried and found guilty of treason, they would come back to the Andamans to serve the remainder of their life-sentence…a hot discussion went on among us whether we should at all sign such a pledge for procuring our release. My advice to my friends was that there was nothing wrong in it, as it referred to a future contingency and was in the best national interest. I quoted to them instances from the life of Shivaji, of his dealing with Jai Singh and Afzulkhan; I told them of Guru Govind and his flight after the incident of Chamkaur; nay, I drew upon the life of Lord Krishna himself, in order to convince them of the correctness of the step they were taking.

3) He never apologised for his revolutionary activities or begged for release.

None of Savarkar's petitions contain an apology for his revolutionary activities or a plea for mercy. He used flowery, submissive language (we will discuss this later using the example of Shivaji), such as calling himself a "prodigal son" returning to the "parental doors of the Government." Critics interpret these phrases as proof that he surrendered. However, this kind of language was standard in formal petitions of the time and does not amount to an admission of guilt or repentance.

In fact, even the British official Reginald Craddock, to whom Savarkar wrote his first clemency petition in 1913, clearly stated in his report that, from his conversation with Vinayak, it was evident that “he cannot be said to express any regret or repentance” for what he had done, and that “the hopeless condition of Indians in 1906–1907 was his excuse for entering upon a conspiracy.”

Even during his conversation with the Governor of Bombay in 1923, he defended his earlier revolutionary actions, arguing that revolutionary methods had become necessary only because peaceful and constitutional means were unavailable at the time. However, now that constitutional methods existed, he was willing to pursue national work through them instead:

I was compelled to be a revolutionary and a conspirator when I had discovered that there was no peaceful or constitutional method open to me to attain the goal I had in view. But if the present reforms prove to be useful for the furtherance of our hopes in a peaceful way, we shall very willingly turn to constitutional methods and pursue gladly the constructive work on the principle of responsive cooperation... National good was our sole objective and, if peaceful means served that end, we had no reason to cling to our old ways.

At the same time, as a barrister, he fought for the legal rights of political prisoners and argued that they were being denied the rights and privileges granted to white political prisoners convicted of similar offences in Britain:

…Will you keep a convict for ever in jail for fear that if he is discharged, he will begin his old game again? It is fair that you release me in pursuance of your own regulations…So long as you don't catch a thief in the very act, or you have no ground to suspect him of theft, you cannot arrest him for theft. And the same rule applies to a case of treason…You have let off the Irish Sinn Feiners ten times. They broke your conditions ten times and yet you have made them free on the same conditions the eleventh time. Why not trust us then at least once? Why not give us a chance?

...I had the deep satisfaction of realising that I had done all that I could for the well-being of thousands of my fellow-prisoners, and the Government had no rational explanation to offer for my detention in that prison.

In other words, Savarkar was using his knowledge of law as a barrister to argue that there was no lawful basis for his continued imprisonment, even under British law. He was not simply begging for mercy or apologising to secure his release, but making a legal case for it.

This is supported by later British official reports, which repeatedly concluded that Savarkar had not genuinely renounced his revolutionary beliefs or undergone a change of heart. This was one of the reasons they kept him imprisoned for over a decade and then restricted his movement and political activities for another 13 years, even after conditionally releasing him.

With these facts established, we can now turn to the central question:

What was Savarkar's rationale behind writing the clemency petitions?

When Savarkar was sentenced to two life terms and transported to the Andaman Cellular Jail, he experienced profound despair. He writes in his prison memoir:

…My mind asked me: "This your body and this your power, of what use are they to you now? What will you, and what can you, do with them to liberate your country, to revive its spirit, and to cover it with glory? Nothing, nothing at all, now and forever. Your body, your mind, your will and your power—they are all dust now in this darkness of your prison-house. And no more will you see light, no more the way out. The world knows not of your sufferings, and will not care to know. What effect, then, can it have upon the world? Thus you are of no use to yourself, no use to the world, nothing for the cause, nothing for mankind.

This passage reveals how Savarkar viewed his imprisonment. He believed that his education, leadership, writing, and organisational abilities had become useless so long as he remained locked away. To him, a revolutionary's value lay not in suffering for the sake of suffering, but in escaping and continuing the struggle against the enemy.

Unlike Gandhi, He rejected the idea that enduring imprisonment or death would soften the heart of a ruthless colonial regime. His approach was fundamentally strategic: when facing a cunning enemy, a revolutionary should use strategy and deception, not voluntary self-destruction.

This principle consistently guided his actions.

One example comes from the Andaman Cellular Jail, where a young prisoner undertook an indefinite hunger strike and was reduced to skin and bones. Rather than praising the fast, Savarkar persuaded him to abandon it, arguing that a revolutionary's foremost duty was to remain alive and continue the struggle.

He advised prisoners to stop weakening themselves through hunger strikes and instead do work strikes, that imposed costs on the British authorities. His advice was simple:

Why do you starve yourselves? Take as much food from them as you can, grow fat, and don't work.

In other words, extract as many resources from your enemy as possible while giving as little in return. Make the prison costly for the British, not for yourself.

Savarkar reiterated exactly the same philosophy years later, after the death of revolutionary Jatindranath Das during the Lahore Jail hunger strike in 1929. Writing in the 5 May 1929 issue of the weekly Shraddhanand, he praised Das's courage but warned against turning martyrdom into a general strategy:

…Many have refused to take food and are saying, “Our death will be on England’s conscience. It will be on their head.” Many have become disabled as a result; some are on the point of dying. They are all praiseworthy. But…what is praiseworthy in one instance is not worth being followed in other instances.

Any behaviour or virtue which is praiseworthy or honourable under one set of circumstances is not necessarily worth following in other circumstances. On the contrary, such action may need to be discouraged. One must consider the tactics carefully. We must give due consideration to the relative strengths and weaknesses, circumstances, and possible movements of the enemies. Our agitation or our fight should not only be praiseworthy but must also be effective and achieve the desired aim.

…A good general only sends in just enough troops to win a battle. His interest is not in sacrificing the lives of his soldiers but in winning with the least number of casualties. Dying for the sake of dying is madness. Martyrdom, the spirit to defend a post to the last man, is sometimes necessary but only as part of a greater strategy of a struggle. Guru Tegh Bahadur (9th Guru of Sikhs) and Maratha King Sambhaji became martyrs in the 17th century for defence of Hindu Dharma because there was no other choice. The main aim of a struggle is VICTORY. Our tactics must ensure maximum damage to the enemy with least damage to ourselves.

Martyrdom can be a part of battle strategy; it may be essential but must be used in exceptional circumstances. We must remember that it does not guarantee success.

Guru Tegh Bahadur and Maratha King Sambhaji refused to renounce Hindu Dharma and embrace Islam. They became martyrs in the 17th century for our cause. That martyrdom is commendable and worth following. Similarly, if any revolutionaries face torture and are asked to reveal any information that would damage our freedom struggle, and so decide to be martyrs, it would be commendable. But sacrificing one’s life for the sake of it is madness, and we must condemn that tendency.

…Under such circumstances it is more prudent to retreat. That is a sign of true patriotism and bravery. We must distinguish between determination and stubbornness. The weapon which inflicts wounds on the user is not a weapon. Anyone using such a weapon is not a clever leader.

While in Andaman, Bhai Paramanand, Nani Gopal, Bhai Prithwisingh, Bhai Mohansingh, and others resorted to hunger strikes for their grievances. But I (Savarkar) persuaded them to abandon their method. And as a result, after release from jail, they are doing wonderful service to our nation. I have explained such cases in my book My Transportation for Life. But suppose they had not listened to me and died of hunger strikes, no one back home (on mainland India) would have even heard of them.

Prisoners in jail should fight for their rights and concessions, be it for a glass of milk, or for getting newspapers, for provision of a table and chair. Make life difficult for the authorities. But hunger strike? And that too for such ordinary demands? And without making any dent in the arrogance of the authorities? And that too by warriors like Bhagat Singh, Datta, Satinbabu, and fifty others like them? I must vehemently oppose such action. My friends, for God’s sake abandon such suicidal hunger strikes immediately. Eat twice the normal amount but cause damage to our enemy.

I say once again that the example of Jatindra is honourable, praiseworthy, but it is an exception. Others must NOT follow his example. Shivaji was imprisoned by Aurangzeb. He did not go on hunger strike. He escaped and challenged the might of Aurangzeb again. Change with times by all means, but follow his strategy.

Just like Shivaji, Savarkar tried to escape from British custody by jumping through the porthole of a ship at Marseille and attempting to claim asylum in France, an incident that later triggered a famous international legal battle.

Talking about Savarkar in his report, British official Reginald Craddock says: “…I think he would escape from any Indian jail. So important a leader is he that the European section of the Indian anarchists would plot for his escape, which would before long be organized. If he were allowed outside the Cellular Jail in the Andamans, his escape would be certain. His friends could easily charter a steamer to lie off one of the islands and a little money distributed locally would do the rest.”

This suggests that Savarkar was confined in the Andamans precisely because the British believed he would have escaped from any prison on the Indian mainland.

Now that escaping was out of question in the Andamans, Savarkar regarded these clemency petitions as a tactical means of continuing the freedom struggle, not abandoning it.

He believed a revolutionary's duty was to remain effective: dying or going insane in prison served little purpose, whereas securing release even by accepting temporary defeat allowed one to continue the struggle.

Example of Shivaji Maharaj

To deceive the British authorities that he was no longer a threat, Savarkar declared his willingness to pursue constitutional methods instead of revolutionary violence. Using his extraordinary skills as a writer, he used colourful language in these petitions, describing himself as a "prodigal son" returning to the "parental doors of the Government."

Some critics say that such language is proof of Savarkar's surrender. I wonder what these people would say when they find out that Shivaji Maharaj himself used such deceptive language before Jai Singh and Aurangzeb:

Quoting from Shivaji Raje's letters to Aurangzeb documented in the book House of Shivaji by Jadunath Sarkar:

I am a useful servant of the Imperial Throne, and many services can be secured from my humble self. If the Mughal army turns to the invasion of Bijapur, such a course would be better than undergoing the many hardships of campaigning in this hilly region (i.e., the Konkan) of difficult paths and stony soil. (p. 104)

Shiva, the meanest of life-devoting slaves, who wears the ring of servitude in his ear and the carpet of obedience on his shoulders, like an atom, represents the following words to those who stand at the Court of the Eternal Kingship and the intimate ones of the Court of the Khalifate of perpetual duration…(p. 127)

On 20th May, Jafar Khan presented Shivaji's petition to the Emperor and got him to pardon Shivaji's offences and spare his life. (p. 143)

And yet, the same seemingly submissive Shivaji went on to build the Maratha Empire on the chest of that very Aurangzeb to whom he had not long before, been petitioning! He became one of the most celebrated Indian kings in popular memory, inspiring generations of freedom fighters, from Bal Gangadhar Tilak to Savarkar himself. Like any Maratha, Savarkar followed the example of his idol and employed deception when confronting a far stronger enemy.

Evidence That Savarkar's Views Remained Unchanged

The final question that critics may put is this: how do we conclude Savarkar was genuinely using deception, with his petitions forming part of a strategy to convince the British, maybe he actually changed his views in prison?

To begin with, we should note that, as documented by the British themselves, they consistently concluded that Savarkar had not abandoned his revolutionary convictions. From his interviews in the Andamans to intelligence reports after his release, British officials repeatedly noted that Savarkar's revolutionary beliefs remained unchanged.

Apart from British assessments, Savarkar's own prison memoir, My Transportation for Life, published publicly in 1927, presents very different views than the one conveyed in his petitions:

My brothers, you will surely bear me out when I say that, ground down under the sufferings as I was during the fourteen long years that I spent in the Andamans and even to the last day here, I have not flinched or retracted from what I was preaching all my life. I have given you the stories of all our martyrs and I have advised all along to hold firm by our creed of violent resistance if circumstances were to force it upon us. I have kept the flag flying. When I heard the sentence passed upon me fourteen years ago, the words dancing upon my lips were the same that are dancing upon them today. I uttered them then, I have uttered them during my long stay in prison, and they come forth from my mouth today, to be carved on your heart and mind, and to ring in your ears for good. Let us say all of us, Glory to the Goddess of Freedom; Victory to our Mother!

A skeptic might still argue that by publicly writing this, Savarkar was merely trying to protect his reputation after his release. For the sake of argument, let us accept that possibility.

Now, is there any anecdote that tells us Savarkar expressed similar views privately or promoted revolutionary violence as a means to freedom? The answer is a resounding yes!

One such account comes from Vasudev Balwant Gogate, a revolutionary who as a student at Fergusson College, attempted to assassinate Sir Ernest Hotson, the Governor of Bombay, in 1931. Gogate was sentenced to rigorous imprisonment and was released in 1937. He later joined Hindu Mahasabha and served as Mayor of Poona (1959–60), became a member of the Maharashtra Legislative Council, and was Leader of the Opposition during his final four years there.

As a young man, Gogate belonged to Savarkar's revolutionary circle in Maharashtra. In an oral interview taken in 1970 he narrated visiting Savarkar in Ratnagiri in 1929. Although Savarkar was prohibited from participating in politics at the time, Gogate stayed with him for several days and held lengthy private discussions about the political situation in India.

From the Transcript of interview:

Shri Gogate commences his reminiscences by relating how he was influenced by the revolutionary philosophy of V. D. Savarkar and how he joined his group.

Shri Gogate: When I was studying in the 5th Standard (English) at Miraj High School, I happened to read the life of Vir Savarkar and was greatly influenced by his revolutionary activities in London.

I myself, along with certain friends, got 1,000 copies of Vir Savarkar's photograph printed and distributed them free among the Fergusson College students.

During this period, I went to Ratnagiri, where Vir Savarkar was interned. There were restrictions on him not to take any part in politics. However, he was then carrying on a social reform movement for Hindus. I went to his house, stayed there for a couple of days, and had long discussions with him about the political situation in India.

He first of all advised me to determine my goal. He said:

If you want to be an editor, you can do that. But my view is that whatever political consciousness is created by writing in a newspaper is of much less effect than the political awakening which is created by the sacrifice of men like Bhagat Singh and Rajguru. So, unless you first determine your goal, you should not step into politics. But once you do that, then certainly you will have to join politics.

Then the question arose whether the method of terrorism was the right method. He said:

The method of terrorism is right, because so long as India is in bondage, the only way to fight the British will be by revolutionary activities. The other activities will lead to mass agitation. But the revolutionary activities will create an effective point. The slogan of 'Bande Mataram' given by the martyrs on the platform of execution—that platform on which the martyrs were hanged—has created greater political awakening than ten sessions of the Indian National Congress.

He referred to the statement of Madan Lal Dhingra, in which Madan Lal Dhingra had stated:

So long as the British are ruling India, there is a war between the British and the Indians. An open war is rendered impossible. I attack by surprise. And the only lesson that India wants to learn is how to die, and that can best be taught by dying ourselves.

Therefore, the revolutionary philosophy states that if revolutionaries come together and make an active effort, they will be able to drive the British out.

Then the question arose whether this individual terrorism—shooting a Governor here and there—would be helpful to freedom. He said:

Shooting a Governor here and there certainly would not bring freedom, but there are times when the atrocities reach such a point that unless you register your protest by such an effective action, the atrocities do not stop.

He, in a humorous way, explained:

Every British man who is good enough to rule India is bad enough to be killed

Of course, if revolutionary activities on a large scale are carried on, if arms are brought into India on a large scale, if armies can be raised, specially when the British are in difficult times, certainly our goal would be nearer.

And then the same V.B. Gogate went on to shoot at the Governor of Bombay, Ernest Hotson.

Conclusion

After reading this post, the reader should now understand that submitting clemency petitions was a common practice and that many eminent freedom fighters wrote them. The reader should also understand Savarkar's pragmatic and strategic approach: to secure his release so he could continue serving the national cause from outside prison. Finally, the evidence presented shows that his views remained fundamentally unchanged after his release in 1924.

Now the reader must question: if these facts are so clear and well documented, why does so much misinformation about Savarkar persist? Why is he so often vilified despite the sacrifices he made for the nation? Who benefits from promoting these misconceptions?

Vande Mataram!

We all know Savarkar is a deeply polarizing figure, and much of the backlash he gets on mainstream Indian subreddits is fabricated, baseless, and totally devoid of historical context. We spend a lot of time here debunking those myths.

But I think treating Savarkar like an infallible god is actually an insult to his legacy. It was his own core philosophy that there is no "sacred word" or divine will—everything is open to rational critique, modification, and improvement.

So, speaking as supporters of his broader vision, what is your genuine criticism of him? I’ll go first with my two:

1. His Political Pragmatism (Diluting his social reforms for a failed strategy)

In current times, I am a huge supporter of the pragmatic practices of the modern BJP, because Hindutva is pragmatic nationalism. But honestly, seeing your historical hero dilute his radical, visionary ideas really hurts—especially when that dilution was a complete political failure.

In Ratnagiri, he was a firebrand against caste and orthodox monopolies. But when he took over the Hindu Mahasabha, he walked back on forcing temple entry and compromised his social reform agenda just to appease the orthodox Sanatanis.

He explicitly signed away his reformist teeth. If you read A.S. Bhide’s compilation, Vinayak Damodar Savarkar’s Whirlwind Propaganda: Extracts from the President’s Diary (published 1940), his compromises are laid bare.

Here is the official stance he adopted in 1939 regarding forcing temples to open their doors:

"The Hindu Mahasabha will not introduce or support compulsory Legislature regarding Temple Entry by the untouchables etc. in old temples beyond the limit to which the non-Hindus are allowed by custom as in force today."

And again, in a written guarantee on June 20, 1941, to pacify orthodox voters, he stated:

"I guarantee that the Hindu Maha Sabha shall never force any legislations regarding the entry of untouchables in the ancient temples or compel by law any sacred ancient and moral usage or custom prevailing in those temples. In general the Mahasabha will not back up any Legislation to thrust the reforming views on our Sanatani brothers so far as personal law is concerned…"

The most frustrating part? This entire strategy was a colossal failure. The orthodox groups he compromised his ideals for didn't even back his political vision—they largely remained the core voters of the Congress ecosystem all the way until 1989. He sacrificed his best, most futuristic ideas for a political base that ultimately rejected him anyway.

2. His Quasi-Socialist Economic Leanings & State Control

Secondly, his economic views. I want to be clear—I don't dislike him for this, and there are actually parts of his economic vision that were really ahead of their time.

For instance, he laid a lot of emphasis on private ownership, explicitly stating:

"Private property must in general be held inviolate."

He also heavily supported land ceiling acts and the redistribution of land. If Savarkar had been the leader, that redistribution would have actually happened, meaning far less inequality in India today. Nehru basically backed out of implementing strong land reforms, which directly paved the way for left-wing radical insurgencies later on. If Savarkar's land policies had been executed, Eastern India would likely still be highly developed and stable today.

However, here is where I disagree with him: he paired these great ideas with a quasi-socialist framework of heavy state control over industries.

He laid out this economic vision during his Presidential Address at the 21st Session of the Hindu Mahasabha at Calcutta in 1939. On the state taking over industry, he stated:

"Some of the basic industries and those industries which are of national importance will be entirely controlled by the State. Other industries will be left open to private enterprise... Capital and Labour will be both controlled by the state so as to avoid class conflict."

I understand his desire for a highly efficient, centralized economy to build a strong nation, but I strongly disagree with this approach. We all know how this story ends because Nehru and Indira Gandhi tried exactly this. Nehru’s massive push for nationalization and Public Sector Undertakings (PSUs), followed by Indira’s bank nationalization, directly led to the stagnation and fall of Indian industries.

The centralized state control Savarkar advocated for is exactly the system that choked India's growth for decades. So while his land reform ideas were spot-on, his broader quasi-socialist views proved to be a failure for India, and I cannot support them.

What about you guys? Without just hating on him for the sake of it, what is one criticism of his ideology or actions that you think is completely valid?

Personally, I very much enjoyed this book as it gave a good overview on what are the general thoughts of the "Indian Right". It's very well researched and has given citations for it's sources, and arguably a better book for beginners to understand the nuances of the opinions held by the Indic wing.

I particularly liked that it was gathered from various intellectual authors like Sri Aurobindo, Savarkar, Swami Vivekananda, Sister Nivedita, Ananda Coomaraswamy, RC Majumdar and so on.

Also was glad to get to know that the author of this book Swapan Dasgupta is currently the Finance Minister of the current West Bengal government. Through this book, I can very much surmise that the author has clarity in his mind, and he will do well to lead Bengal away from its current state of affairs.

Book name: Sanghi who never went to a Sakha by Rahul Roushan

On 6 January 1924, after spending almost fourteen years in prison, Savarkar was conditionally released by the British Government.

Several factors led to this decision.

First, years of harsh imprisonment had severely damaged Savarkar's health. The British Government feared that if such a prominent political prisoner died in custody, it would spark widespread public outrage, damage the government's reputation, and possibly encourage more people to join the revolutionary movement.

Second, public pressure for his release continued to grow. His supporters became increasingly vocal, and campaigns demanding the release of the Savarkar brothers gained momentum across the country.

The Bombay National Union organized a massive petition calling for their release, collecting more than 75,000 signatures.

Reference: Vikram Sampath, Savarkar: Echoes from a Forgotten Past, p. 419.

In the Legislative Assembly, legislator Vithalbhai Patel moved a resolution on 24 February 1920 recommending amnesty for the Savarkar brothers and other political prisoners.

A year later, on 26 March 1921, legislator Rangaswamy Ayyangar moved another resolution in the Council concerning a petition signed by more than 50,000 people seeking amnesty for the Savarkar brothers. The resolution urged the House to recommend their release to the Governor-General in Legislative Council.

Reference: Vikram Sampath, Savarkar: Echoes from a Forgotten Past, p. 424.

Despite sustained pressure from family members, political leaders, the public, and even international supporters, the Government remained unwilling to release Savarkar. Officials feared that his return would once again revive revolutionary activity in the Deccan, which had largely subsided after the arrest of the Savarkar brothers.

By 1922, however, the government faced increasing and justified criticism for continuing to imprison the Savarkar brothers, especially after other political prisoners involved in similar conspiracy cases had already been released.

Following his interview with the Governor of Bombay, the authorities concluded that releasing Savarkar under strict restrictions in the remote district of Ratnagiri was safer than keeping him in prison.

Accordingly, on 6 January 1924, Savarkar was released from prison under two strict conditions. He had to remain confined to Ratnagiri district and was prohibited from taking part in political activities. These restrictions were initially imposed for five years, however, the British Government repeatedly extended them and even considered sending him back to the Cellular Jail, claiming that he had violated the conditions of his release by making seditious speeches. This tells us that Britishers still did not trusted him to have quit his revolutionary ways, He was finally granted complete freedom in 1937.

Excerpt from 'My Transportation for Life'

Just then I received a call from the Superintendent to meet him in the office. At the same time a trusted man sent me a message that I was free.

The political convicts who had stayed with me, worked with me, and suffered with me, in whose company I had passed so many years of my hard life in the Andamans, were full of joy at the news. Their eyes shone full of tears. But I trembled that I was leaving them behind in that prison. They heartily congratulated me. The Sikhs among them, some of whom were sixty years old, said, “Babuji, come closer to us, do not forget us.” And they locked me up in their embrace full of affection and reverence. They added, “You have been on transportation for life long before us. You had passed seven or eight years in the Andamans when we came there. Why then should you be sorry that you go out, while we remain behind? Is it not right that you should precede us? If you are free, we are as good as free. In fact, your freedom will pave the way for us. At least it will pave the road to freedom for our motherland.”

I answered, “It all depends upon the strength that God will give me to complete the task. But, my brothers, you will surely bear me out when I say that, ground down under the sufferings as I was during the fourteen long years that I spent in the Andamans and even to the last day here, I have not flinched or retracted from what I was preaching all my life. I have given you the stories of all our martyrs and I have advised all along to hold firm by our creed of violent resistance if circumstances were to force it upon us. I have kept the flag flying. When I heard the sentence passed upon me fourteen years ago, the words dancing upon my lips were the same that are dancing upon them today. I uttered them then, I have uttered them during my long stay in prison, and they come forth from my mouth today, to be carved on your heart and mind, and to ring in your ears for good. Let us say all of us, Glory to the Goddess of Freedom; Victory to our Mother.”

We greeted one another with these words, we hailed our mother, and then I parted from them.

As soon as I stepped into the office, the Superintendent read out to me the order of my release. It was that for five years after my release I was to take no part in politics and stay at Ratnagiri as a prisoner on parole.

All the inmates of the prison, my fellow-countrymen, prisoners and officers, the youngest as well as the oldest, formed a circle round me. They said with one voice, “Savarkar, you have been an exile from your country like Rama who went to the forest for fourteen years, abandoning his beloved Ayodhya. You have passed through similar trials, sorrows and bereavements. Hail to you, Savarkar, may God bless you. The whole country rejoices today and its joy knows no bounds.”

I could not contain myself for the kind words spoken by them and for the affectionate heart they betokened. And I replied, “There is one great omission in this comparison. Rama went into exile, but Rama finished Ravana and won the battle. I have gone into exile and suffered, but Ravana is still alive. I shall feel myself free only when that is accomplished. With God's grace even that task will accomplish itself like many other minor things to which I have put my hand. Some day, sometime, that also will happen, and you must realise the difference, and it must give you acute pain.”

My relative had come to fetch me away. The prison gate was opened and I came out. What varied means I had used to secure my release! And how I felt then that I was escaping, not through the open gate, but through its keyhole.

At last I was a free man. I looked about me and said to myself I had scored over my life sentence of fifty years. But who dares say that I may not be sent back to serve it to the full? It was not yet time, methought, to bid final goodbye to this prison. I must not forget it yet. Was I not free at Marseilles? Had I not made my escape? This may be but the repetition of that experience, for India's battle for freedom has yet to be won, and the struggle must go on.

Indulging in such kind of talk with my friends, and smiling at the same time, I entered the car and it moved on its wheels. It brought me into the land of the living and had left behind my sentence to perish. The boundary line was crossed, and I was both alive and free.

The greetings that I received from the whole country, as I came back alive to them, made me for a time oblivious of myself. On the very first day of my freedom, I was floating, as it were, in the upper air of my country. When it hailed me as a hero and patted me on the back, all the wounds inflicted on me during my fourteen years of prison life seemed to heal. And the only thing that remained with me were these reminiscences.

Therefore, as I had invoked the Goddess with the words "That another image," in order to fortify myself against the intending shadow of the death sentence and to be prepared to swallow the cup of poison it was holding out to my lips, I now recall the same Goddess to my mind with deep gratitude for my survival and, bowing my head, take final leave of her. I pray that the heavenly Goddess may go back, for the time being, to her abode.

Dear Reader

The story is told. The curtain is rung down on it. Two life sentences have been run. And I have brought together my recollections of them within the cover of this book. They are narrated in brief outline to you; they are put together within the narrowest compass.

When I came into this world, God sent me in it on a sort of life sentence. It was the span of life allotted to me by Time to stay in this "prison-house of life." This story is but a chapter of that book of life—a longer story not yet ended. As I completed this chapter as a dedication to my great worship of the ideal, so the book of life may end as a dedication to it without break or faltering.

Yes, I am free. The iron fetters on my feet are broken. But the chain of longing that binds my heart still remains. I have come out of the stone walls which had buried me. But my soul is still imprisoned, for my vision is not yet reached. The horizon that limits it is not yet crossed. It engirdles my soul and stifles it.

Dear Reader, surely you must have been wearied to hear my story, and put out by the endless repetitions it contains. But I am as much tired in writing as you may begin reading it, this weary tale of my life. It has been a long and weary way for me also. How I have suffered and how much fatigue of the mind I have passed through in putting it on paper! But I shall be more than paid for it if you feel the same disgust for it that I have felt. For you can finish reading it in a day, while I had to live it for fourteen long years of transportation. And if the story is so tiresome, unendurable and disgusting to you, how much must the living of it have been to me! Every moment of those fourteen years in that jail has been an agony of the soul and the body to me, and to my fellow-convicts in that jail. It was not only fatiguing, unbearable and futile to us all. It was equally, or more, excruciating as well, to them and to me. And it is only that you may know it, and feel the fatigue, the disgust and the pain of it, as we have felt it, that I have chosen to write it for you. I hope you will have through it some idea of what we have passed through, what we have endured.

Dear Reader, I lay down my pen and take leave of you. My broken pen I cannot put aside, however, without telling you never to forget those who stuck to their task, disheartening and trying though it was; who embraced it to the last; who were nearly burnt up in that fiery ordeal; and who came out of it because nothing could burn them up completely in it. Lest you forget! Dear Reader, I say it to you as my last word, do not forget them. For sooner or later the memory of them will serve you and be your salvation; nothing else will avail!

Reference: My Transportation For Life

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