Introduction
When famine swept Bengal in 1943 and the starving people from the villages streamed into Calcutta in search of rice and died in their thousands on its pavements, the real Bengal, rural Bengal, thrust itself for a time before the world. Famine is threatening far larger parts of India now—and so are demands for freedom and for liberation.
The masses of the common people of India are village people, peasants living from their labour on the land. Yet, at a time when there is so much in the air about freedom for India and when so many are seeking a solution to her problems, what is known of these common people of the villages? What of the problems and their struggles against oppression? What does freedom mean to them? Moreover, India being a peasant country in which, except for a few important centres, industrialisation has made so little headway. Virtually the whole of the activities of the towns and the existence of the middle classes depend on the production of the villages. The very wealth which first attracted the merchants and adventurers from the West—the legendary wealth of India—was produced from these same villages.
During several months stay in Calcutta I had been able to see something of the tremendous upsurge of feeling for national independence which followed the war. The city had been the scene of series of demonstrations, riots even, and of strikes by the working people in the industrial concerns organised in their Trade Unions. But, however important all this might be, it was also clear that from such a city as Calcutta, it was impossible to appreciate the real problems of Bengal—or of India. So it was that I took advantage of an opportunity that offered and, with the ready assistance of many Indian friends and some slight knowledge of the Bengalee tongue, I went to the villages and rural towns to see for myself the real Bengal. I covered, in the main, three Districts in Eastern, Central and Western Bengal—and for a short time stayed in the foothills with the tribal people. What I saw was terrible in terms of human suffering. Rural Bengal is in ruins. Even the very land itself is dying and only the oppressors and exploiters of the peasantry prosper still. Yet what I experienced was inspiring—for amongst the peasants, so long asleep and backward, is a growing consciousness which is having the greatest repercussions on the Indian national movement and on the whole question of freedom and liberation. In the villages and small towns it was also possible to understand more fully the points of view of adherents of Congress and the Muslim League, the policies of their organisations and the outlook of the local leaders. A real knowledge of what is happening inside Bengal today can give the key to the problem of India as a whole.
For is not the first essential in understanding any country, to see its common people and the problems that face them, to hear from them of their own struggles and experiences? And Bengal is a very important part of India. Within it the problems of India are perhaps most accentuated, are present in their sharpest form.
As a Britisher mine was not an easy task, for the conditions in a peasant country are very different to those in Britain and are not easy to understand. Yet it is particularly important that British people do understand. A great responsibility for India’s present plight rests with men of our own nation and the actions of the Labour Government can have a profound effect on a solution. Also I trust that Indian friends will find of some value the viewpoint of one who, though not taking part in their own liberation movement, is yet as sincere as they in seeking freedom for their land.
