The Academy has formed a committee comprising academicians and researchers, and they will be publishing a book on the lives of the freedom-fighters from Karnataka titled ‘Yaaroo Ariyada Veeraru’.
“59 persons from Karnataka, who were part of the 1857 rebellion, were imprisoned in the Cellular Jail in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. We don’t want their names to be erased from the chronicles of India’s freedom struggle,” says L.N. Mukundraj, president of the Karnataka Sahitya Academy.
Aiming to study the lives of these incarcerated people, the Academy has formed a committee comprising academicians and researchers. Soon, they will be publishing a book on their lives titled ‘Yaaroo Ariyada Veeraru’.
The Cellular Jail in Port Blair in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands was used by the British to exile freedom fighters and political prisoners who had to endure brutal and inhumane conditions.
Committee set up
Mr. Mukundraj explained, “We formed a committee led by writers and historians K.P. Suresh and Vijay Poonacha to study those from Karnataka who died in ‘Kala Pani’, as the punishment was called.” In the State Budget 2026-27, former chief minister Siddaramaiah had announced the publication of such a book.
The committee comprises 15 persons, of which eight will collect documents, and seven will do the fieldwork. The documentation team will search for documents in places that were earlier part of the Bombay Presidency. “Dharwad district is one place where we might find the details of many of these freedom fighters in government archives and libraries. The majority of them hailed from Nargund town in Gadag district.”
South Indians forgotten
Mr. Suresh added that those from southern India rarely figure in the annals of the freedom struggle. “These 59 persons incarcerated in Cellular Jail were mostly from north Karnataka and Uttara Kannada district,” he said, adding that often only big names like Hindutva ideologue V.D. Savarkar are highlighted while talking of those who suffered in Cellular Jail.
Some of these individuals were part of the rebellion of Halagali Bedas in 1857-58, from the village of Halagali near Mudhol. Writer Latha Guthi has published a book on the theme, called Kari Neeru. “This book is a source for us. Our field team and documentation team will head to different places in Karnataka to find such sources. We have decided to put up banners in the villages of these freedom fighters urging people to come forward, and tell us if they know anything, or have documents,” said Mr. Suresh.
Some names…
Among the 59 persons from Karnataka imprisoned in Cellular Jail were Balakrishna from Bidar, Gopal Bhandari from Karwar, Faras Khan from Nargund, Bikaji Ganesh Gokhale from Nargund, Vitu Gawli from Karwar, and Abdulla Moiuddin from Nargund.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> India> Karnataka / by Rashmi Patil / June 30th, 2026
Started as a local bi-weekly newspaper, Madinah soon commanded a massive subcontinent-wide circulation. While most newspapers at the time focused on major colonial urban centres such as Lahore, Delhi or Calcutta, Madinah instrumentalised its place of inception—Bijnor—as a political shield.
‘Madinah,’ a bi-weekly newspaper founded in 1912 by Mohammad Majeed Hasan, began in his courtyard in the small qasbah of Bijnor in the Northwest United Provinces (present-day Uttar Pradesh). Its inception is later recounted in a dream narrative published in Madinah’s silver jubilee edition in 1939, which describes how Hasan dreamt of “a bright moon shining in the sky, being eclipsed by another moon appearing from behind and drifting away from it, becoming brighter as the dream continued.”
Hasan had been working as a journalist in Lahore while also preparing for a career as a judge. He is said to have had the dream shortly after abandoning his training and returning to Bijnor to continue working for the family newspaper Sahifa, whose modest readership had already begun to dwindle. Hasan later interpreted the dream as a sign that he should start his own newspaper, symbolised by a new shining moon.
Hasan’s first wife, Muhtarma Kaneez Fatimah, whose altruistic nature and firm belief in his venture compelled her to help him start the paper, sold her jewellery to support it. She later proved to be an intelligent and capable assistant in the newspaper’s production, despite being unable to read or write.
It was she who inspired the newspaper to include a separate women’s section named Akhbar-i-Nisvan on one of its last pages. The section frequently appeared during the newspaper’s first three years, from 1912 to 1915, and was intended to serve the interests of Muslim women by including editorials and creative pieces written by both men and women.
Soon, the paper had distinctly identified itself among its audience by creating a space for Muslim women, with a special focus on mothers, to discuss their issues through genres such as poetry and fiction.
The unlikely epicentre: importance of the Qasbah
Started as a local bi-weekly newspaper, Madinah soon commanded a massive subcontinent-wide circulation. While most newspapers at the time focused on major colonial urban centres such as Lahore, Delhi or Calcutta, Madinah instrumentalised its place of inception—Bijnor—as a political shield. In the same year as Madinah’s inception, Maulana Azad, at the age of 23, started the paper Al-Hilal in Calcutta, which was lauded among the Muslim elite and others for its publishing style and genre, soon reaching a pinnacle of readership.
In contrast, Madinah’s unique approach, which embraced the values of the gentry while also appealing to a broad readership beyond the traditional urban elite, distinguished the paper from the incessant urban cynicism that was becoming a prevalent theme throughout the landscape of production. Due to better readership and the greater availability of resources in urban areas, similar endeavours to Madinah redirected themselves to these spaces.
In its founding years, Madinah also addressed British officials, adopting varying strategic and bargaining stances against surveillance and strict government policies through explicit deference to colonial authorities. For instance, Hasan, the proprietor of the newspaper, cited the Ijazat (permission) of the Magistrate and Collector of Bijnor in its inaugural issue. This attentiveness to British intelligence provided the necessary immunity required for the functioning of the newspaper, unlike Azad’s Al-Hilal, which came under heavy scrutiny from the colonial government and had to cease publication by the end of 1914.
Newspapers in urban centres, such as Awadh Akhbar, persisted in their efforts to speak to a broad audience delineated more by language and culture than by religion, while papers such as Madinah reinforced an already rich discursive tradition surrounding religion and identity in the social crevices known as qasbahs (small towns). They also engaged with contested political themes debated by scholars and leaders, including the shaping of early narratives of separatism and communalism among Indian Muslims.
The success of Madinah can be attributed to the spatio-temporal advantages of the qasbah, which can be defined as a place of bureaucratic and market significance where a Muslim minority or majority lived alongside populations from other communities, alongside an influential enclave of intellectual vivacity and economic and political importance for Muslims. Scholar M. Raisur Rahman described qasbahs as “an alternative site for contestation with strong autonomous networks of culture, literature and religion”, while simultaneously defining them as a ‘unique space’ and a ‘microcosm of larger idealized national life’.
These spaces have been significantly important sites in the history of South Asian culture, shaping identities and literary traditions while remaining distinct from the typologies of urban environments, where modernity had already seeped through the sutures of cultural exchanges with the outside world.
Madinah and its role in politics
The political trajectory of Madinah transformed profoundly during the period of World War I, following the Balkan Wars. The paper broadened its purview by juxtaposing the localised ethos and culture of the qasbah with larger international crises, particularly the imminent dismantling of the Ottoman Empire.
Navigating the intricacies of a contested political landscape, Madinah supposedly guarded a global Islamic consciousness through its promotion of the Khilafat Movement and its shared affiliation with Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind. Consequently, its support for the Indian National Congress and its anti-separatist stance against Jinnah became apparent, aligning with Jamiat’s idea of Composite Nationalism, as Madinah continued to anchor itself in the secular, anti-colonial bedrock of Urdu journalism.
According to scholar Gyanendra Pandey, Madinah served as a vital barometer of Muslim public opinion across this shifting timescape. Driven by the ideological synergy of Hindu-Muslim unity during the Non-Cooperation and Khilafat movements, the publication commanded an astounding peak circulation of 12,500 copies by 1922. However, this radical nationalism invited severe repercussions from the colonial state, notably resulting in the paper being banned in Punjab following its courageous and explicit reporting on the 1919 Jallianwala Bagh massacre. Following the ban, the paper was relaunched in August 1919 under a new name—Yasrab (Madinah in Arabic)—as an act of strategic defiance against the colonial government, with a couplet from Iqbal:
Khāk-i Yasrab az do ‘ālam khūshtar ast, Ā’e khunak shahre ke ānjā dilbar ast
(The dust of Madinah is better than both worlds, How wonderful is the city where the beloved is.)
As the landscape of production became increasingly fragmented by communal cynicism and the mass political momentum of the early 1920s waned, the paper witnessed a decline in readership, with circulation dipping to 6,500 in 1927 and further to 6,000 by 1931.
Despite this dwindling circulation, Madinah remained a formidable and persistent critic of communal separatism throughout the 1930s and 1940s. Engaging with the contested political themes of the era, the paper sought to dismantle the early narratives of the All-India Muslim League. Pandey highlights a remarkably bold editorial from the 1930s that dismissed the League as being “neither dead nor alive”, asserting that its existence was confined merely to “the brain and mind of Mr. Jinnah”.
By 1942, the newspaper had effectively transformed into an open town hall, enabling ordinary citizens to debate and largely resist the looming Pakistan movement from within the landscape of the qasbah.
The script and scripture
The prevalent Urdu script, Nastaliq, which had been used throughout South Asia for centuries and was imported from Persia, featured intricate details, ornamentation and a complex structural form forged through the meticulous amalgamation of the Naskh and Ta’liq calligraphic traditions. It became the most recognisable Urdu script and developed strong cultural and ideological ties with the Urdu language. However, due to the rise of globalisation and the growing demand to produce literature for the public, it became increasingly difficult to produce works in the script lithographically on a mass scale. By the end of the 1970s, Nastaliq began to advance with the help of Mirza Jamil Ahmad, who created more than 20,000 combinations to bring the script into the digital world under the name Noori Nastaliq.
By the time the digitisation process began, Madinah was already out of business, shutting down its press with its last issue in 1976. During the seven decades that the paper survived, its editors had no keys to the press and no screens to reflect upon. Instead, the issues of Madinah were produced solely by hand, by calligraphers and artists alike.
The Urdu script Nastaliq had been established as the standard for almost every copy of the holy book Quran in South Asia since the Mughal period. By the time Madinah began using the same script as its standard, it already carried connotations of purity, holiness and divinity within the cultural landscape. Combined with the organic practice of producing it by hand rather than by machine, the paper was considered by its readers to embody a deliberate resistance against illegitimate mechanisation and the rising industrialisation of the subcontinent, curating a new political discourse based on the cultural symbolism of the script.
By using and retaining lithographic practices in an era when other papers were increasingly relying on mechanical typography for efficiency, Nastaliq was perceived as a tactile and handcrafted discipline that preserved the inherent spirit of prose, shielding the paper’s contributions from the mechanical and indifferent processes of Western print capitalism.
The inevitable descent
By the 1940s, Madinah had begun engaging in intense print debates with the supporters and proponents of pro-Muslim League newspapers and writers, arguing in a polemical fashion that religion could not be the sole determinant of a nation’s survival. Despite the paper’s persistent efforts to resist the pro-League and separatist stance, it witnessed the partition of the Indian subcontinent into two parts. The social capital of Madinah was on the verge of collapse, as the paper saw affluent members of the Muslim community, who had constantly contributed to its production and editorials, leave for the other side of the border.
The Language Act of 1951 became a huge blow to the publishing house of Madinah, as Hindi was soon adopted as the state language in Uttar Pradesh, mandating officials and government offices to maintain all data in Hindi and extensively replacing Urdu in institutions under the newly formed Indian government. Although the apparent marginalisation of the paper’s foundational language and the loss of its social capital were significant blows in the paper’s history, they were unable to overshadow its continuing legacy.
Madinah, managing to survive, remained a prominent, albeit ageing, symbol of pre-Partition nationalist Muslim political identity, advocating for the preservation of Urdu heritage amid the growing socio-political shifts in Uttar Pradesh. At the same time, it continued to struggle against declining circulation as newer, faster-printed typographic dailies overtook the market. Its reports on the Indo-Pakistani War of 1971 and the creation of Bangladesh vindicated the paper’s historical assertion that religion alone could not hold a nation together, while it also continued reporting on rising communal tensions in the country.
The prodigious endeavour was about to culminate in the years following the Indo-Pakistani War. Near the end of its operational life, the paper’s traditional lithographic format and qasbah roots struggled to attract younger, urbanised readers. The deteriorating health of Hasan finally caught up with him, leading to his death in 1972. The handling of the newspaper remained in the hands of Hasan’s family until its last editor, Syed Hasan, finally ceased publication, quietly closing the press in 1975.
References
Jones, J. (2023). Megan Eaton Robb: Print and the Urdu Public: Muslims, Newspapers, and Urban Life in Colonial India. New York: Oxford University Press, 2021; pp. xi + 247. Journal of Religious History, 47, 151–153. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-9809.12917
Abduhu, G. R. (1973). The Educational Ideas of Maulana Abul Kalam Azad. Sterling Publishers.
Rahman, M. Raisur. (2014). “Beyond Centre-Periphery: Qasbahs and Muslim Life in South Asia.” South Asian History and Culture, 5, 163–178. https://doi.org/10.1080/19472498.2014.883762.
EVERY year on August 15, India’s Prime Minister addresses the nation from the ramparts of the Red Fort in Delhi. It was at this same fort, in 1945, that Major General Shah Nawaz Khan stood trial for waging war against the British Empire. A Muslim officer in Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose’s Indian National Army, he had led troops into battle against colonial forces across Southeast Asia, been captured, and was sentenced to death. His court-martial, alongside Colonel Prem Kumar Sehgal and Colonel Gurbaksh Singh Dhillon, provoked mass protests across the country and became one of the final catalysts for British withdrawal from India. The slogan that echoed through the streets of Delhi became a rallying cry of the independence movement: “Lal Qile se aayi awaaz, Sehgal, Dhillon aur Shah Nawaz.”
After his release, Shah Nawaz Khan chose the path of non-violence at Mahatma Gandhi’s urging, joined the Indian National Congress, and went on to serve as a Union Minister for over two decades. He represented Meerut in Parliament through four terms, held portfolios ranging from Agriculture to Petroleum, and chaired the commission that investigated the circumstances of Netaji Bose’s death. He was buried near the Red Fort with full state honours in 1983.
Beyond politics, Shah Nawaz Khan was connected to one of India’s most recognizable families. The Bollywood actor Shah Rukh Khan’s father, Mir Taj Mohammed Khan, was his cousin and migrated from Pakistan to India alongside him after Partition.
His story traces an arc from armed resistance to democratic nation-building, from a death sentence in a colonial courtroom to the highest levels of Indian government.
Early Life and Military Career
General Shah Nawaz Khan was born on 24 January 1914 in the village of Matur, in the Rawalpindi District of British India (now in Pakistan). His father, Lieutenant Sardar Tikka Khan, served for nearly three decades in the British Indian Army with the 58th Vaughan’s Rifles (Frontier Force), instilling in him an early exposure to military life.
After completing his early education, Shah Nawaz Khan went on to study at the Prince of Wales Royal Indian Military College in Dehradun, one of the premier institutions established to train future military leaders in colonial India.
From Prisoner of War to Leader of the Indian National Army
In 1940, Shah Nawaz Khan was commissioned as an officer in the British Indian Army. In December 1941, as part of the Second World War, Japanese forces launched a major offensive against Singapore, and the British deployed nearly 60,000 Indian soldiers, including Captain Shah Nawaz Khan.
The British forces were ultimately defeated, and Khan, along with thousands of other soldiers, was taken prisoner of war. During his captivity, he came into contact with Indian nationalists and revolutionaries aligned with Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose. Deeply influenced by their vision of an independent India, he joined the Azad Hind Fauj, also known as the Indian National Army (INA), and rapidly rose to positions of leadership.
Role in the Freedom Struggle
Recognized for his leadership abilities, Shah Nawaz Khan was inducted into the cabinet of the Indian National Army’s (INA) Provisional Government of Free India. Between 1942 and 1945, the Azad Hind Fauj engaged British forces across Southeast Asia and, for a period, established control over large stretches of territory during its campaign against colonial rule.
In December 1944, he was appointed commander of the INA detachment stationed in Mandalay, Burma (now Myanmar). Owing to the close trust placed in him by Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, he was later selected to lead the Subhas Brigade—a special unit formed from elite INA soldiers.
During military operations in Burma in 1945, General Shah Nawaz Khan and several of his comrades were arrested by British forces. The INA’s senior leadership at the time included Major General Shah Nawaz Khan, Colonel Prem Kumar Sehgal, and Colonel Gurbaksh Singh Dhillon. In 1946, all three were put on trial for mutiny at the Red Fort in Delhi.
These trials ignited widespread public protests across India and became a turning point in the independence movement, significantly intensifying popular resistance to British rule. Facing overwhelming public pressure, the British government was ultimately compelled to release Shah Nawaz Khan and his associates. During this period, he remained in contact with leading figures of the national movement, including Mahatma Gandhi, and was defended in court by Jawaharlal Nehru.
Gandhi’s Colonel of Non-Violence
General Shah Nawaz Khan was regarded as one of Mahatma Gandhi’s close associates, a relationship reflected in Gandhi’s letters and public speeches, in which he frequently referred to him by name. Their association symbolized the bridge between armed resistance and the philosophy of non-violence that shaped India’s independence movement.
On the occasion of the 50th birth anniversary of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, Shah Nawaz Khan declared, “While living outside India, we fought for our country’s freedom with arms; now we shall serve India through non-violence.” Mahatma Gandhi echoed this sentiment while addressing members of the Indian National Army in Madras on 22 January 1946 and later reiterated it during his prayer meeting in Mumbai on 18 February 1946.
Contemporary records further document their close interaction. According to a report in the Bombay Chronicle dated 13 March 1946, Shah Nawaz Khan met Gandhi at Birla Bhavan in Delhi on 12 March, where the two held discussions for nearly ninety minutes. On 22 March 1946, Gandhi visited a military camp in Aravalli Kanchan, Maharashtra, and once again mentioned Shah Nawaz Khan while addressing the soldiers. Their engagement continued through personal meetings as well as an exchange of letters, many of which survive as historical evidence of their dialogue.
At Gandhi’s urging, following the dissolution of the Indian National Army in 1946, Shah Nawaz Khan joined the Indian National Congress. Later that year, he worked in Bihar to assist victims of communal violence, alongside Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan. He remained in the region during this period of unrest, and was present at the funeral of Professor Abdul Bari, who was assassinated in Bihar in March 1947.
Gandhi repeatedly acknowledged and praised Shah Nawaz Khan’s relief and peace-building efforts in Bihar during 1947. He spoke at length about Khan’s work during his prayer meetings on 29 April and 1 May 1947, and earlier, on 15 April 1947, the two were together at Gandhi’s camp in Patna. During one such conversation, Gandhi expressed his faith in him, saying: “I have great hopes for you. I wish to make you a complete soldier of non-violent weapons. You became a colonel under Netaji; in the same way, I want to make you a colonel of non-violence.”
Political Life After Independence
Even after India achieved independence in 1947, Shah Nawaz Khan continued to work in Masurhi, Bihar, focusing on relief and rehabilitation efforts. In a letter dated 7 October 1947, Mahatma Gandhi wrote to him: “Dear General Shah Nawaz, If the work you are doing there does not go to the dogs in your absence, you may leave it to go to the Punjab-Pakistan.” Despite this, Shah Nawaz Khan chose not to return to his ancestral home in what had become Pakistan; instead, his family migrated to India.
Shah Nawaz Khan entered electoral politics in independent India and was elected to the first Lok Sabha (India’s lower house of Parliament) in 1952 from Meerut, representing the Indian National Congress. He went on to win the same constituency in 1957, 1962, and 1971. Over the course of his political career, he served as a Union Minister for a total of 23 years.
Beginning in 1952, he served as Parliamentary Secretary and later as Deputy Minister for Railways. From 1957 to 1964, he held the portfolio of Food and Agriculture. He was again appointed Minister of Agriculture in 1965, followed by his tenure as Minister of Labour, Employment, and Rehabilitation in 1966. Between 1971 and 1975, he served as Minister for Petroleum and Chemicals, as well as Agriculture and Irrigation. From 1975 to 1977, he additionally served as Chairman of the Food Corporation of India while continuing as Union Minister for Agriculture and Irrigation.
In 1956, the Government of India constituted a commission to examine the circumstances surrounding the death of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose. Shah Nawaz Khan was appointed chairman of this commission, underscoring the trust placed in him by the national leadership. He also authored a memoir on the Indian National Army and Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, regarded as an important firsthand account of the INA movement.
Representing the Meerut constituency for decades, Shah Nawaz Khan played a stabilizing role in public life, and the city remained free of major communal disturbances during his tenure. From 1977 to 1983, he served as the national in-charge of the Congress Seva Dal, the party’s volunteer organization. He remained associated with the Indian National Congress until the end of his life, continuing his commitment to public service and national unity.
General Shah Nawaz Khan passed away on 9 December 1983 while still serving the Indian National Congress. His life—spanning armed resistance, political leadership, and a steadfast commitment to unity and nation-building—remains a powerful testament to the ideals of freedom, sacrifice, and service. He is remembered not only as a soldier and statesman, but as a figure whose legacy continues to inspire generations in independent India and beyond.
— IAMC
source: http://www.clarionindia.net / Clarion India / Home> Editor’s Pick> Opinion / by Afroz Alam Sahil / August 08th, 2026
In ‘Print and the Urdu Public’, Megan Eaton Robb writes about the impact and role of popular Urdu newspaper Madinah and how it pushed back against censorship.
File photo | Gen. Reginald Dyer | Wikimedia Commons
Madīnah’s community of editors, subeditors, and proprietors illustrate the interconnected network of professionals working on newspapers across North India, with a shared commitment to confounding censorship laws. Editors of Madīnah were products of qasbahs and lived in Bijnor or nearby while employed by the publication. At least one assistant editor, Ḥamīd Ḥasan “Fakīr” Bijnorī (1903–1991), was a relative, having married Majīd Ḥasan’s daughter in the 1910s before he became the editor of Madinah Press’s children’s magazine Ghunchah after 1922. Ḥamīd Ḥasan would later be listed as an assistant editor from 1930 to 1935 and even take over as editor for several months when the need arose in 1945. When a new editor took over the work of Madīnah and was not already resident in Bijnor, he would move into the Ḥasan compound, which acted as the administrative office of the paper. Several small apartments attached to the main verandah, so editors could live in comfort with their families, remaining accessible to the newspaper office while maintaining privacy. Maulānā Majīd Ḥasan’s name, along with the name of the current chief editor, always appeared on the paper’s title page. At any given time there could be up to three editors of the paper, with the chief editor being referred to as “mudīr-i mas’ūl.”
Although Majīd Ḥasan’s proprietorship provided continuity for the newspaper, its different editors influenced the paper’s tone and focus. The turnover between editors could be rapid when legal troubles emerged. For instance, in 1924, when the editor Qāẓī Badrul Ḥasan Jalālī (1891–1956) was prosecuted by the British Raj for an article, he resigned his editorship, but he stepped back into his position once the dust of government scrutiny had settled. If Majīd Ḥasan attracted too much scrutiny from government surveillance, he could retreat from view behind the shadow of his prominent editors, continuing to exert the same influence behind the scenes. This allowed his outfit to survive draconian censorship measures while retaining the continuity essential to the newspaper’s success.
When he launched the newspaper in 1912, Majīd Ḥasan had little local influence. The only person of significance attached to the newspaper initially was a prominent journalist of the period, Nūr ul-Ḥasan Zahīn, who wrote for Ṣaḥīfa as well. Colonial censors initially dismissed Madīnah as a “bigoted Muhammadan organ, inclined to make trouble between Hindus and Muhammadans.” Madīnah first earned the ire of colonial administrators by criticizing the headmaster of Bijnor High School for complying with the British Educational Code. This was only the first of many encounters with censorship legislation.
April 1917 marked the beginning of Editor Mazh̤ ar ud-Dīn Shairkoṭī’s tenure, and the newspaper’s shift to publishing more explicitly political, anti-British stances. Shairkoṭī, a novelist as well as a journalist, was born in the Shairkoṭ qasbah of Bijnor in 1888. Initially educated by Maulānā ‘Abdul Qayūm Arshāq and Miyānji Sa‘ad Allah Sahib, he had attended Deoband as a pupil of Maulānā Mahmud ul-Ḥasan Asīr Mālṭā, known as Shaikh ul-Hind. After completing his education at Deoband, Mazh̤ ar ud- Dīn returned to Shairkot, where he worked on the newspaper Dastūr under the management of Ḥakīm Asrār ul-Nabī and on the newspaper Nagīnah.
Maulānā Majīd Ḥasan saw Maz̤har ud-Dīn’s affiliation with the newspaper as the beginning of a new period of commitment to the Muslim community and wrote an illustrious introduction for his new editor. Majīd Ḥasan’s message in his introduction was clear: he had brought in a power player to man the ship of Madīnah, a man who indubitably linked the paper to a network of powerful publications and individuals. The new editor transformed Madīnah into a more explicitly political entity. Maz̤har ud-Dīn associated with prominent political Muslims of the period, including Syed Ḥasan Imām, who presided over the Indian National Congress’s consideration of the Montagu-Chelmsford Reforms in Bombay in 1918. His other associates included Nawab Muḥammad Ismā’il Khān. He was, along with Khalīquzzamān, a key organizer of the UP Muslim League, and a prominent member until 1947; he remained in India after independence.
After the end of World War I in November 1918, discussions of independence and postwar reality in India began in earnest. The state of Islam, and the progress of both national and local branches of organizations such as the Muslim League and Congress, became matters of intense concern. Mohandas Karamchand “Mahātmā” Gāndhī (1869–1948) featured in several articles musing on the way forward for political Muslims. In addition, discussions of the fall out of World War I in Turkey and the caliphate took center stage. Under Mazh̤ ar ud-Dīn’s leadership, the newspaper emphasized the connection between the fate of Indian Muslims and of those in Turkey and other nations with significant ties to Islam.
Mazh̤ ar ud-Dīn presided over Madīnah’s publication of an article critical of the government’s role in the Jallianwallabagh massacre, which led to a dramatic conflict with the British Raj. In April 1919 Madīnah published an article criticizing Lieutenant Governor Sir Michael O’Dwyer’s (1864–1940) endorsement. Putting Madīnah on the Muslim Map of the actions of Colonel Reginald Dyer, who had overseen the disproportionate response at Jallianwallabagh. The article minced no words:
His honour O’Dwyer’s government of Panjab, from the very beginning, kept as the foundation of its policy a despotic course of action [ . . . ] This was his honor O’Dwyer’s last period of government; therefore it was necessary that he make amends for his past course of actions. This was the time when, instead of extinguishing the fire with the water Of gentleness and kindness, he inflamed the hearts of the ahl-i Punjab. Perhaps it could be said that he did not put out the fire with water, but instead doused it with oil. If that were not the case, then why would he at the conclusion of his reign, give orders that were so repellent, so far from resembling affection that they approximated hate?
It was actually illegal at this point in time to question the motives of the colonial government; thus, the final statement of the quotation accusing O’Dwyer of “hate” fell afoul of censorship laws. The government banned Madīnah from circulating in Punjab as a result of this piece. Mazh̤ arud-Dīn and Majīd Ḥasan’s response was defiant: in August 1919 they renamed the newspaper Yasrab, an Arabic synonym of Madīnah, as a bid to evade censorship.64 On the cover of each issue of Yasrab an Iqbal couplet appeared, a knowing wink to its readership base:
The dust of Madinah is better than both worlds. How wonderful is the city where the beloved is.
Khāk-i yas̱rab az do ‘ālam khūshtar ast Ā’e khunak shahre ke ānjā dilbar ast.
The couplet hinted at the paper Yasrab’s true identity, offered praise for the paper’s unpretentious popularity, and emphasized the link between the newspaper and the city Madīnah. Madīnah’s proprietor and editors were men who wore their few educational laurels lightly. More important than formal education was the ability to use that knowledge in the service of Indians generally and Muslims particularly. Unsurprisingly, the attempt at flouting the circulation ban was quickly detected. The paper reverted back to the title Madīnah after a few weeks, and the ban on circulation was lifted eventually.66 Madīnah was a space offering a figurative point of access to the community of Islam, the qaum, and it was a space increasingly under siege of colonial censorship laws.
Madīnah had been only one of many significant voices in the press commenting on the Jallianwallabagh fiasco. As the UP fortnightly report complained, “[The] occurrences in the Punjab [ . . . ] practically absorbed the entire attention of the press.” Along with Madīnah/Yasrab, the British excluded from Punjab al- Khalīl of Bijnor, The Independent of Allahabad (a Nehru paper), Hamdam and Akhuwat of Lucknow (Farangi Mahalli papers), Swadesh of Gorakhpur, and Amrita bazar patrika of Calcutta. The government demanded securities, or large sums of money as surety against future crimes of sedition, from papers in Bengal, Nagpur, Lucknow, and Madras. Madīnah’s inclusion in this censorship was a testament to its growing influence; its subterfuge demonstrated a growing sense of urgency in its mandate to reach readers and an emerging resolve to flout British restrictions.
In the 1920s, Madīnah focused on coverage of the Muslim League and the Indian National Congress, showing a preference for Congress.
It was per- haps Maz̤har ud-Dīn’s affection for the League that motivated him ultimately to resign from Madīnah in 1921. It is also possible that Mazh̤ ar ud-Dīn’s taste for politics pulled him closer to Delhi and toward the League after the political awakening accompanying the Khilafat Movement.
It was common for editors to move around among different qasbah-based newspapers, and after leaving Madīnah, Mazh̤ ar ud-Dīn joined Munshī Safīr Aḥmed’s Naginah-based paper Almān as its first editor; he was instrumental in relocating that paper to Delhi. He later became close to the leadership of the All-India Muslim League, including Muḥammad ‘Alī Jinnāh. In the 1930s he founded a paper entitled Vaḥdat (Unity) in order to assist the propagation of Muslim League ideals. When Maulānā Shabbīr Aḥmed ‘Usmānī, a Deobandi who supported the creation of Pakistan, resigned from the pro-Congress Jam‘īat ‘Ulamā and declared his allegiance to the Muslim League and Jinnah, he did so from Mazh̤ ar ud-Dīn’s office. This demonstrated Madīnah was one node in an important network of political power and publishing prestige in this period and had to make considered choices when it came to balancing shifting political alliances.
This excerpt from Print and the Urdu Public: Muslims, Newspapers, and Urban Life in Colonial India has been published with special permission from Oxford Univerity Press.
source: http://www.theprint.in / The Print / Home> Page Turner> Book Excerpts / by Megan Eaton Robb /May 15th, 2021
Can a stable and just democracy flourish on foundations of wilful amnesia and erasure?
A c. 1800 painting showing the last stand of Tipu Sultan, ruler of Mysore in 1799 at the end of the Anglo-Mysore Wars with the East India Company. Photo: Henry Singleton/Public domain.
Many will ask why a book about Muslims who fought for India’s freedom? There’s no answer to such questions except another question. Had we been better memory keepers as a nation, could we have avoided the peak disinformation and stupidity which normalises reviling ordinary Muslims as outsiders, infiltrator and insurgents?
Muslim Freedom Fighters of India is a two-volume biographical compilation by Salim Khan on less-known, mostly forgotten and hardly known Muslim figures. The books aim to clear the fog around Muslim freedom fighters whose names are heard of without them being extensively known and this requires us to understand why this fog exists. Written in an extremely readable and accessible format, these biographical accounts embed the historical figures in the context of their times, responding to unprecedented events with foresight, clarity and conviction that sealed their fate and shaped and the nation’s destiny.
Whether we are reading about Generals of 1857 – Bakht Khan and Khan Bahadur Khan – or the Cambridge-educated Rampur scion Mohammad Ali Juahar of Khilafat moment and his fiery mother Bi Amma, the larger questions seething beneath the stories keep rising to surface. Who does a society and nation choose to remember and celebrate? Whose memories are deemed worthy of preserving? History is always shaped by those who control archives, narratives and memorialisation and hence memory.
Reading about Tipu’s dazzling reign through the three Anglo Mysore wars where he proved superior to British forces, I was reminded of the controversy sparked by the late Girish Karnad’s suggestion of naming the Bengaluru airport after Tipu Sultan. Karnad had said, “It is true that Tipu Sultan was not born in Bengaluru, but he was a son of this soil and a freedom fighter. Had Tipu been a Hindu, he would have achieved the status of Shivaji, and the airport would have been named after him.” I recalled Karnad because his play Dreams of Tipu Sultan echoes the same theme that this two-volume tribute to erased, obscured and deliberately unremembered historical figures echoes: that when politics lays down who should be forgotten, remembering the erased becomes a duty, an affirmation and a political act.
It is important to clarify that this is not a compilation of eulogies but well-researched fact based account of people who had the uncommon clarity to resist colonial domination even before the nationalistic narratives took shape. That they happened to be Muslims is important today because of the distortions that have obscured and erased them. But back then when they fought and resisted, they were simply rallying for the cause of their soil and their watan. From the earliest times they understood that freedom from foreign domination required Hindus and Muslims to put up a united front as in the war of 1857, the Khilafat movement, and the period between 1919 and 1924. Back then too, traitors cut across religious lines – Jagat Seth, Mir Jafar, and Ilahi Baksh.
Muslim Freedom Fighters of India: Part 1 and Part 2’, Salim Khan, Qalam Aur Kaagaz Books.
From Siraj ud Daulah to Tipu to Shahzada Firoz Shah, the book shows how the fog around these personalities is not accidental but meticulously designed – initially by the colonial mind, then picked up by early nationalists and woven into simplistic narratives. The macabre dance of history further stifled Muslim voices. Cataclysmic events like the ‘end’ of the Mughal Dynasty in 1857 and the Partition in 1947 sundered clans, erased family histories, legacies crumbled with no one is around to defend and uphold them. Today, even people who don’t know history have heard of Lakshmi Bai, but many who read history may not have heard about Shahzada Firoz Shah, the Mughal Emperor’s grandson who in August 1857, led a band of armed soldiers to rally the rebels in Rohilkhand and Malwa and who fought alongside Tatia Tope and called for a united Hindu-Muslim front against the Company.
The British understood the dangerous potential of popular memory and subverted any potential for memorialisation of hugely influential figures. No one knows if Shahzada Firoz died in battle or escaped to West Asia. The Maulavi Ahmadulla of Faizabad whose authority and fearlessness scared the British so much that they kept a reward on his head, was likewise interred in an unmarked grave. Knowing that even his memory could become a node to unite the rebels, the British saw to it that no commemoration was permitted or possible. Zafar, the last Mughal was exiled to Rangoon for the same reasons.
In her book, India, 5,000 years of history on the subcontinent, Audrey Truschke, elucidates how Muslim rulers like Nawab Siraj ud Daulah and Tipu Sultan to Zafar felt a responsibility for their subjects no matter what their religion. For example, Siraj ud Daulah actively intervened in times of famines and drought in Bengal. But after the British took over they did nothing to alleviate human suffering, so that 20% of Bengal’s population died in the famine of 1768 and the small-pox epidemic of 1769-70 following it. This had never happened during earlier episodes of failed harvests. Truschke says, British historians initiated the custom of categorising Indian rulers as tyrannical, effete and incompetent, reducing them to their religion and writing in terms of Hindu rulers and Muslim rulers. The British needed to demonise Muslim rulers who were their immediate predecessors in subcontinent so that they might look good by comparison, Truschke notes. It was a part of the colonial propaganda.
Another pattern Salim Khan’s compilation brings out is that from mid-18th century onwards, the first responders and the most committed crusaders resisting colonial domination – the kings, queens, princes, preachers, noblemen – were Muslims. Not only because the British had wrested from them the power they had wielded for centuries (howsoever fragmented or diluted it may have become); but also, because they were looked upon as leaders. In Awadh, for example, the Shia elite took it as their moral-ethical duty (see Chapter 7, volume I: Shia Ullema and Noblemen of Awadh)
Even in the 20th century, Muslim freedom fighters like Hasrat Mohani of the Inquilaab Zindabad fame and Asfaqullah Khan of the Kakori conspiracy who was an icon for Bhagat Singh, remain in the shadows, seen only in a hazy half-light. Were their contributions any less or only less remembered? One of the most important projects post-Independence should have been to restore memory and affirmation to those whom the British put on the wrong side of history, no matter what their religion or caste. But we know this is not what happened.
Since the arrival of the political controversy over Tipu Sultan, we have entered in an era of deliberate distortion of history. The larger question that these accounts refrain from asking but that jumps to any thinking person’s mind is this: can a stable and just democracy flourish on foundations of wilful amnesia and erasure? Should the memory of Muslim freedom fighters be kept only by the Muslims? The heritage and memory of Indian Muslims needs to be reclaimed by them. But equally, these volumes are required reading for the casually miseducated, hopelessly disinformed or simply ignorant Hindus who have been stupefied into denying and distorting their composite history.
Varsha Tiwary is a Delhi-based writer and translator. She has recently published 1990, Aramganj a translation of the best-selling Hindi novel Rambhakt Rangbaz.
MLA pays homage at Tipu Tomb, releases Urus Shariff invitation
Mysore/Mysuru:
MLA Tanveer Sait, along with several others observed Tipu Sultan Martyr’s Day at a Fatha Khawni programme organised by Hazarath Tipu Sultan Shaheed Welfare and Urus Committee Secretary Afroz Pasha at Tipu Tomb (Gumbaz), Ganjam in Srirangapatna recently.
Hazarath Moulana Syed Inayathur Rehaman Razvi Saheb, Khateeb-o-Imam of Masjid Aqsa, Tipu Tomb, performed Fatha Khawni while Afroz Pasha and MLA Tanveer Sait spread the Flower Mat (Chadar) on the tombs of Tipu Sultan Shrine and his parents. Moulana Mohd. Inayath Ur Rehaman Razvi read Duwa supplications for the welfare of all.
Afroz Pasha distributed sweets (Tabruk) and felicitated the MLA by offering shawls.
Invitation, posters released
On the occasion, MLA Sait released the invitation and publicity posters of the 234th Annual Sandal Urus Shariff of Hazarath Tipu Sultan Shaheed.
The annual Sandal Urus Shariff will be celebrated on May 16 in city during which a public meeting will be held and a procession will be taken out.
Industrialist M.F. Jamsheed, Senior Congress leader Syed Iqbal, Waseem, Radiulla Khan, Member of the College Development Council of Government Girls’ Pre-University College Khwaja Mohammed Musheer Chishti, Syed Younus, Majeed Ahmed, Afroz Khan and a host of devotees were present.
source: http://www.starofmysore.com / Star of Mysore / Home>News / May 08th, 2026
The family of Ali Khan Mahmudabad, the Ashoka University professor whose social media post on Operation Sindoor set off a storm, footprint on Indian history stretches back to the medieval period.
Prof Ali Khan Mahmudabad, his father Raja Mohd Amir Mohd Khan (centre) and brother Rajkumar Amir Hasan Khan. Image courtesy: Mahmudabad Estate
The Supreme Court on March 16 closed the case against Prof Ali Khan Mahmudabad, the Ashoka University historian and columnist, after the Haryana government declined to grant sanction for his prosecution for his social media post on Operation Sindoor, a decision the court had itself nudged the state towards in an earlier order.
A Division Bench comprising Chief Justice of India (CJI) Suryakant and Justice Joymalya Bagchi had, in its order of January 6, asked the Haryana government to consider refusing sanction as a “one-time magnanimity.” The state obliged, bringing to an end a case that had drawn global attention to questions of free speech and academic freedom in India.
The matter had originated in a social media post made by Prof Mahmudabad in connection with Operation Sindoor of 2025. It snowballed rapidly after he received summons from the Haryana State Women’s Commission on May 12, 2025. The Supreme Court had granted him interim bail on May 21.
The man behind the case
Prof Mahmudabad holds a doctorate and a master’s degree from the University of Cambridge and teaches history and political science at Ashoka University. Also known by his courtesy title “Raja of Mahmudabad,” he is the latest in a long and storied line – a family whose footprint on Indian history stretches back to the medieval period.
During the Nawabi rule in Awadh and later under the British, the Rajas of Mahmudabad were among the largest Taluqdars, or feudal landholders, of the region, controlling over 400 villages and extensive urban properties across Lucknow, Sitapur, Lakhimpur Kheri and Nainital.
The family’s most visible legacy is the Mahmudabad Fort in Sitapur, a 19th century structure built in the Indo-Saracenic style that counts among the largest private residences in the world. It has hosted royalty, diplomats, political leaders and intellectuals from across the globe. Its library holds thousands of rare books and manuscripts in English, Hindi, Urdu, Sanskrit, Persian and Arabic – including handwritten copies of the Quran, the Bhagavad Gita and the Mahabharata, some dating to the 16th century.
The fort’s kitchens, too, have kept alive culinary traditions that have largely disappeared elsewhere. The original mud fort on the site was set ablaze by the British during the Revolt of 1857 and later rebuilt.
The family’s syncretic character runs deep. Its charitable endowments include temples, one gifted to the Udasin Sect founded by Sri Chand, son of Guru Nanak, replicas of the Muslim shrines of Najaf and Karbala in Iraq and a caravanserai built to shelter travellers.
Revolt of 1857 and after
The family’s political legacy is equally significant. During the Revolt of 1857, Muqim-ud-Daula Raja Nawab Ali Khan commanded several thousand rebel troops before being killed by British forces – the same forces that burned down his 16th century fort. His role has been documented in historical accounts of the period and in the Urdu novel “Aghaz-e-Sahar” by Khan Mahbub Tarzi, translated into English by Prof Mahmudabad himself under the title “The Break of Dawn.”
His son, Amir-ud-Daula Raja Sir Mohammad Amir Hasan Khan, served on the Legislative Council of the Lieutenant Governor of the North Western Provinces. Lucknow’s Amir-ud-Daula Public Library and Amir-ud-Daula Islamia Degree College are named after him.
Amir-ud-Daula Raja Sir Mohd Amir Hasan Khan. Image courtesy: Mahmudabad Estate
His son, Prof Mahmudabad’s great-grandfather Maharaja Sir Mohammad Ali Mohammad Khan was a pioneer of education who played a central role in establishing both Lucknow University and the Aligarh Muslim University, serving as the latter’s first Vice-Chancellor from 1920 to 1923. A residential hostel, Mahmudabad House, in Aligarh Muslim University’s Sir Shah Sulaiman Hall is named after him. He also served as the Home Member of the Governor of UP’s Executive Council.
Mahmudabad House in Lucknow. Image courtesy: Mahmudabad Estate
A close friend of Motilal Nehru, he was instrumental in the signing of the Lucknow Pact of 1916 and served on the Imperial Legislative Council, the Council of State and the United Provinces Legislative Council. Lucknow’s Butler Palace, named after former UP Governor Sir Spencer Harcourt Butler, was built by him.
Maharaja Sir Mohammad Ali Mohammad Khan
Prof Mahmudabad’s father, Raja Mohammad Amir Mohammad Khan, was also a Cambridge graduate and an occasional professor of astrophysics at Imperial College London and the Institute of Astronomy at Cambridge. He was elected twice to the UP Legislative Assembly on a Congress ticket, in 1985 and 1989.
When he passed away in October 2023, thousands joined his funeral procession across religious lines, and schools, markets and commercial establishments across the area shut down in mourning.
A vindication, and a reminder
Prof Mahmudabad’s Lucknow home, Mahmudabad House – part of the historic Qaiserbagh Palace complex – continues to serve as a gathering place for intellectual and cultural exchange, much as the family’s spaces have for centuries.
The closure of his case, then, is more than a personal reprieve. Coming at a time of heightened scrutiny over free expression in India, it is being seen as a reaffirmation, however fragile, of the right to speak, question and dissent.
(Aman Alam is a student Barrister at the University of London and an Advocate in the Supreme Court. He has been a former Law Clerk-cum-Research Associate to a Supreme Court judge. He is also a Fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland)
source: http://www.siasat.com / The Siasat Daily / Home> Featured News / by Aman Alam, Guest Contributor March 27th, 2026
As the world celebrated International Women’s Day on 8th March, it would be relevant to mention Khanzadi Begum’s case, a property rights dispute in 19thcentury British India, which originated from District Bulandshahr, and culminated before the Privy Council in England. The dispute pertained to the colonial Government’s attempt to revoke a sanction that had previously been granted, raising questions about the limits of executive discretion. During the Revolt of 1857, a large section of nobility and landed gentry, i.e., Taluqdars and Zamindars in the Bengal Presidency (which included North-Western Provinces, the earlier name of United Provinces or U.P.) and the Princely State of Oudh (Awadh) took up arms against the East India Company. When the British regained control in 1858, a severe crackdown followed against the rebels, wherein persons convicted of ‘mutiny’ were executed, and their lands were confiscated en masse under the Forfeiture Act, 1857[1]. This retributive and deterrent exercise of forfeiture gave birth to innumerable claims arising out of the seized lands. By way of Act IX of 1859, Courts of Special Commission were set up in the Lower and North-Western Provinces of the Bengal Presidency for adjudication of these claims.
Khanzadi Begum was born in District Bulandshahr to Sheikh Muhammad Abdullah Khan, landed proprietor of “Khanpur Estate” which sprawled Bulandshahr, Meerut, Budaun and Moradabad districts. He died in 1852, leaving behind a son named Abdul Latif Khan and two daughters Bibi Mariam and Khanzadi Begum. Abdul Latif Khan allotted five villages (out of his father’s estate) to his sister Bibi Mariam for her maintenance, but couldn’t make such an allotment for Khanzadi Begum. Meanwhile, in the aftermath of the Revolt of 1857, Abdul Latif Khan was convicted of ‘mutiny’, which led to confiscation of his properties in 1860 under the 1857 Act. In 1860, Khanzadi Begum petitioned the Court of Special Commission against the Government, claiming her inherited share in her deceased father’s estate. The Court rejected her claim to the full share, but passed a decree assigning five villages in District Bulandshahr for her maintenance, which were to be equal in area, Government (revenue) assessment and income of her Bibi Mariam’s villages, along with awarding mesne profits. The Government authorities allowed her to choose five villages. Accordingly, in August, 1860, consequent to the sanction obtained from the Sadar Board of Revenue, the Collector handed over to her the possession of these villages, her name was entered in Government records and she was paid mesne profits. A few months later, in October, the Sadar Board wrote to the Government, expressing a doubt about the Court of Special Commission’s decree. Pursuant to this, the Lieutenant-Governor Sir George Frederick Edmonstone, KCB, ordered that the Court of Special Commission was not empowered to pass the decree for maintenance (a cause which was not sued) when it had rejected Khanzadi Begum’s claim for her full share in the property. The Lieutenant-Governor was also of the view that the villages allotted to her were more than the value of Bibi Mariam’s villages. Consequently, Khanzadi Begum was ousted in January, 1862.
Being aggrieved by her unlawful dispossession at the hands of the Government, Khanzadi Begum initiated execution proceedings before the Court of Special Commission, which came to be dismissed, and the dismissal was affirmed in appeal on the ground that the decree was not properly carried out. She then filed a fresh suit before the District Judge, seeking declaration and possession of the property along with mesne profits. The said suit was, however, also dismissed. The court, accepting the Provincial Government’s contentions, took a view that the Court of Special Commission only declared that Khanzadi Begum (i.e., the Plaintiff) should receive a suitable maintenance from her ancestral property, and it neither conferred any specific proprietary right nor could she acquire any such right unless the Government had sanctioned a particular property, which was never done.
In 1866, Khanzadi Begum challenged the District Judge’s decision before the newly formed High Court for North Western Provinces, which had recently replaced the Sadar Diwani Adalat and now sat in its place in Agra, before being shifted to Allahabad in 1875. A Bench comprising Chief Justice Sir Walter Morgan and Justice Sir F. B. Pearson allowed the appeal[2] and the District Judge’s verdict was overturned. While examining in detail the facts of Khanzadi Begum’s case, the High Court pointed out that the Court of Special Commission had granted her a right to maintenance in her ancestral property only after her claim for inheritance of her share in the ancestral property was dismissed in view of her family’s custom of male primogeniture, and such a declaration was, in the High Court’s view, conferred a substantial right to maintenance and was not a mere recommendation. As for the Government’s objection that the Court of Special Commission exceeded its jurisdiction under Act IX of 1859 by adjudicating upon a fresh cause of action (of maintenance), the High Court was of the view that the Court of Special Commission followed its summary procedure under Act IX of 1859 and even if it had proceeded irregularly, the decree could not be said to be a nullity, more so when its validity was never challenged, and it was long after the decree had been satisfied, that the Government made any objection to it. As per the High Court’s interpretation, in order to comply with the decree, the Government ought to have itself selected the villages to be granted to Khanzadi Begum, or should have sanctioned the selection made by her. The Government’s primary justification for dispossessing Khanzadi Begum was that the grant of five villages made to her by the Sadar Board of Revenue in compliance of the Court of Special Commission’s decree, was done without obtaining proper sanction from the Government. In simple words, the Government’s stance tried to distinguish itself from the Sadar Board of Revenue, even though it was very much an arm of the Government. As a matter of fact, the Government’s real intention behind dispossessing Khanzadi Begum was the apprehension that the villages allotted to her actually yielded much more profits than the amount specified by the Court of Special Commission. The High Court completely rejected both these contentions. Firstly, it was observed that the correspondence between local revenue officers and the Sadar Board revealed that the villages were to be selected on the basis of fixed annual revenue demand of the government (called “Jama”) and not as per the actual profits. Secondly, it was held that the Government’s sanction had already been expressed through the Sadar Board of Revenue on 20th July 1860 when it assigned the lands to Khanzadi Begum in satisfaction of the Court of Special Commission’s decree, and contention regarding refusal of sanction was disproved by official correspondence. The sanction was acted upon and Khanzadi Begum obtained possession of the five villages and held them until her dispossession in January, 1862. The High Court then pointed out that the sanction was not questioned until a year after it was granted in 1860, and held that now the Government could not interfere in any manner, once it had granted a ‘full and intelligent sanction’ (through the Sadar Board) and the same had been acted upon. The High Court referred to Privy Council’s 1861 judgment in The Collector of Masulipatam v. Cavaly Vencata Narrainapah[3] which was a case arising from the Sadar Diwani Adalat at Madras, wherein it was held “…the acts of a Government officer bind the Government only when he is acting in the discharge of a certain duty within the limits of his authority, or, if he exceed that authority, when the Government in fact, or in law, directly, or by implication, ratified the excess”. It was, however, held that in the present case the Sadar Board and the Revenue Authorities had not exceeded their authority, and thus, the Government was bound by their acts. The appeal was decreed with costs. Khanzadi Begum was represented in the High Court by Maulvi Fariduddin Ali, Maulvi Samiullah Khan and Shah Asad Ali, while the Government was represented by Lala Man Rai.
As the Government was unsatisfied with the High Court’s judgment, the matter reached the Privy Council as the Secretary of State for India filed an appeal on the Government’s behalf. The judgment was delivered on 1st March 1870[4], a 4-judge Bench comprising Sir James Colville, Sir R. Phillimore, Lord Justice Giffard and Sir Lawrence Peel rejected the Government’s appeal. The Privy Council was of the opinion that there was “no ground whatever for this appeal”, as the Government had not stated in its pleadings (or otherwise) that the decree of the Court of Special Commission was improper or non-binding. It was noted that on the date of the decree, the Government was in possession and the Collector was empowered to carry out the decree and handover possession (to Khanzadi Begum). Moreover, the Government did not raise any objection whatsoever in the Civil Court against Khanzadi Begum’s claim ‘except as to a certain particular portion of the land’, and, consequently, ‘her title was confirmed by the decree of a competent Court’. Resultantly, the Privy Council, while dismissing the appeal with costs, made strong observations against the Government that it ‘was much in the wrong in taking possession as they did, and that this appeal never ought to have been brought’. The Government was represented in the Privy Council by Mr. Forsyth QC and Mr. Merivale QC, while Khanzadi Begum was represented by Sir Roundell Palmer QC and Mr. Leith.
Khanzadi Begum’s case arose during a period when statutory protections were still evolving under the colonial rule. The High Court for North Western Provinces, after holding the Government liable, awarded exemplary costs of around Rs. 3,645[5], much higher than given standards of the day. Later, while putting a quietus to the issue, the Privy Council also came down heavily upon the Government. Although, not explicitly articulated in these terms, the reasoning given by the courts indicates the doctrine of estoppel, as the Government was not allowed to arbitrarily revoke its sanction.
This decision is an early instance of application of rule of law in reviewing executive action.
Act XXV of 1857 ↑
Mussumat Khanzadee vs The Collector of Bolundshahur, Case No. 33/1866, 2nd July 1866 ↑
(1859-61) 8 Moo I.A. 529 @ 554 ↑
The Secretary of State for India in Council v. Mussamat Khanzadi, (1811-72) 4 IR 306 ↑
Report of the Legal Remembrancers, North-Western Provinces, for 1866-67. Government Press, Allahabad, 1867 ↑
Author Aman Alam is an Advocate At Supreme Court of India & student Barrister at University of London, U.K and Musa Munir Khan is an Advocate practising at High Court of Delhi. Views are personal.
source: http://www.livelaw.in / LiveLaw.in / Home> Articles / by Aman Alam & Musa Munir / March 16th, 2026
The half-baked propaganda of communal forces against the Tiger of Mysore is trying to divide communities
THE Tiger of Mysore (Sher-e-Mysore) Tipu Sultan often finds space in sections of the media, especially in Karnataka. There have been occasions of State-sponsored celebrations of his birth anniversary and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) regularly creates obstacles to these celebrations, resulting in unnecessary ruckus. This time around, Tipu Sultan is in the news from Malegaon in Maharashtra.
The newly elected deputy mayor of Malegaon Shan-e-Hind Nihal Ahmad, put up the portrait of Tipu Sultan in her office, upsetting the Shinde group’s Shiv Sainiks and the BJP. These forces got the portrait removed with the intervention of the authorities. Some protests were also held.
Maharashtra Pradesh Congress Committee President Harshvardhan Sapkal got incensed and defended Tipu Sultan, claiming that the contribution of Tipu Sultan to Mysore is equivalent to that of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj in Maharashtra.
But, Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis did not like the idea of comparing Tipu Sultan and Shivaji Maharaj, as it was an insult to the latter. Following this absurd comment, the Congress office was pelted with stones by BJP workers and nearly seven people were injured in the ensuing mayhem.
The objection of the BJP to the statement from the Congress leader is that Tipu was a “mass murderer of Hindus” and he tried to convert Hindus to Islam. There are many other charges put against Tipu by Hindutva elements. Most of these try to project Tipu as anti-Hindu and a cruel king. This is far from the truth.
Lots of these myths are part of the communal narrative, accentuated by the British narratives, which are harsher against Tipu in particular. This is because he was one of the few rulers who fought against the British. Tipu had asked Nizam and the Peshwas to oppose the armies of the East India Company. He foresaw the dangers of British power entrenching in India.
Tipu’s administration was a mixed one, with many top officers being Hindus. Purnaiah served him as the Mir Miran (head of a department) and was crucial to his administration. Krishna Rao was his treasurer. Shamaiya Iyengar held a high-ranking ministerial position and Narsimha Iyengar held a position in the postal department. Tipu Sultan reportedly provided grants to the Sringeri Shankaracharya, including for the rebuilding of the temple and the installation of the Hindu goddess Sharada. He granted land and endowments to various temples throughout his kingdom. During his reign, the 10-day Dussehra celebrations were an integral part of the social life of Mysore.
In 1791, Maratha forces led by Raghunath Rao Patwardhan attacked and plundered the historic Sringeri Sharada Peetham, causing the Shankaracharya to flee. Upon learning of this, Tipu Sultan expressed deep anger, stating that those who committed such acts would face consequences, and promptly sent funds, gifts, and letters to restore the temple and reconsecrate the idol. The raid was part of the Third Anglo-Mysore War, during which Maratha forces caused significant destruction to the temple complex, including killing or wounding people and looting property.
Tipu Sultan, who frequently interacted with the Sringeri Jagadguru and addressed him with high respect, immediately ordered the Mysore administration to assist in the restoration, demonstrating his patronage of certain Hindu institutions. Evidence of this restoration is found in several letters in Kannada, preserved in the Sringeri monastery records, where Tipu requested the Jagadguru to pray for the prosperity of his kingdom.
Tipu Sultan was a staunch opponent of the British. There is an accusation against him that he persecuted some Hindu and Christian communities. The reason for this persecution, however, was purely political, not religious. About these persecutions, historian Kate Brittlebank says that “This was not a religious policy but one of chastisement”. The communities targeted by him were seen as disloyal to the State.
The communities Tipu targeted did not belong only to the Hindu stream. He also acted against some Muslim communities, like the Mahdavis. The reason was that these communities were supporting the British and were employed as horsemen in the East India Company’s armies. Another historian, Susan Bayly, says that Tipu Sultan’s attack on Hindus and Christians outside his state is to be seen on political grounds, as at the same time he had developed close relations with these communities within Mysore.
Sarfaraz Shaikh, in his book Sultan-E-Khudad has reproduced the ‘Manifesto of Tipu Sultan’ in which he declares that he would not discriminate on religious grounds and would protect his empire until his last breath. He had a great interest in rocket technology. This finds appreciative mention in Dr APJ Abdul Kalam’s book, Wings of Fire.
It is interesting to note that in the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh’s series for children on Indian history, they had published a book on Tipu in the 1970s. BJP’s Yeddyurappa had adorned Tipu’s headgear to solicit votes in the 2010 elections in Karnataka. Then President, Ramnath Kovind, sent a eulogising message on the occasion of Tipu Jayanti (2017). He has an RSS background. He praised Tipu by saying that “Tipu Sultan died a heroic death fighting the British. He was also a pioneer in the development and use of Mysore rockets in warfare.” Tipu – along with Rani Laxmi Bai – are also depicted as freedom fighters through drawings in Part XVI (page 144) of the original, hand-written and illustrated copy of the Indian Constitution.
Due to his policies, Tipu was popular among the people of Mysore. There are many folk songs, sung in villages, praising him. It is for this reason that one of our greatest playwrights, Girish Karnad, said that had Tipu been a Hindu, he would have the same status that Shivaji Maharaj has in Maharashtra. This is very close to what Sapkal stated, nothing extra.
This whole incident of opposing the portrait of Tipu in the Deputy Mayors’ office is one more instance of communal forces latching on to divisive politics. Kings should not be seen just by their religion; their policies towards people of different religions and people’s welfare should be the major criterion for evaluating them. Tipu stands very tall in this scale of religious tolerance. The half-baked propaganda of the communal forces is trying to divide communities.
A major tribute to Tipu was paid by Subhash Chandra Bose. He adopted Tipu’s ‘springing tiger’ as the insignia of Azad Hind Fauj, which fought against the British. The major contribution of Tipu was to forewarn the Indian rulers about the advancing threat of the East India Company, the British. It was for this that he bravely fought against the British and laid down his life in the fourth Anglo-Mysore War. The communal forces who are out to demonise Tipu belong to the ideology that did not even lift a little finger against the British rule.
source: http://www.clarionindia.net / Clarion India / Home> Opinion / by Prof Ram Punyani / February 18th, 2026
The Banyan tree on which the execution took place. Photo: Ghulam Ahmad Raza
During the 1857 revolt against British rule, Jharkhand too witnessed armed resistance. The rebellion had spread across regions including Ranchi, Hazaribagh, Ramgarh, Palamu and Singhbhum. In the dense forested border areas of Ranchi and Hazaribagh, the rebel forces were led by Shaheed Sheikh Bhikhari Ansari and Tikait Umrao Singh. From the dense jungles of the Chuttu Palu valley, their army fought British troops and prevented Ranchi from falling under colonial control. Both leaders were captured by the British forces on January 6, 1858 and were publicly executed by hanging on January 8, 1858, in the same Chuttu Palu valley.
The banyan tree on which they were hanged still stands today. The Jharkhand government has developed the surrounding area as a martyr memorial with the stated aim of preserving history and keeping alive the legacy of the region’s sites of resistance. Yet even today, many residents of the Chuttu Palu village where the memorial stands remain unaware of who these martyrs were.
Fifty-eight-year-old Nirmal Kumar, who works as a stone breaker near the memorial, often rests inside the premises during breaks. He says he has been coming here since childhood. Despite this, he is unaware of the historical significance of the site and does not recognise the names of Sheikh Bhikhari Ansari or Tikait Umrao Singh.
“I only know that blankets are distributed here every year on January 8,” he said. On the martyrdom anniversary, social workers and officials visit the site to pay tribute and distribute essentials among the poor.
Sanjay Munda, a resident of Chuttu Palu village, said that even today, most villagers do not know about the martyrs or the memorial’s history. “Members of the surrounding Scheduled Tribe (ST) and Scheduled Caste (SC) communities refer to the site in the local language as Fasiyahi Bar (tree where the hanging took place). Most people do not know about the 1857 revolt or the sacrifice of Sheikh Bhikhari and Tikait Umrao Singh,” he told Maktoob.
Despite the lack of awareness, locals often bow their heads in respect when passing the site.
The memory of these two revolutionaries who laid down their lives fighting British rule is slowly fading. Their history has largely been reduced to government files and digital web pages. On martyrdom days, ministers, officials and locals pay tributes, but beyond symbolic gestures, little is done. While the Jharkhand government has taken some steps to acknowledge them, no substantial initiative has been taken by the central government to formally recognise or honour their contributions.
Dr Muzaffar Hussain, researcher and author of Jharkhand ki Muslim Vibhutiyaan, says Muslim, SC and Adivasi martyrs have not received the recognition they deserve. “Jharkhand has produced many revolutionaries who sacrificed their lives for India’s freedom, but recognition has been limited largely to Birsa Munda only,” he said.
He points out that the 1857 revolt took place nearly 40 years before Birsa Munda’s Ulgulan (revolt). “Names like Nadir Ali, Imam Ali, Jatra Tana Bhagat, Sidhu–Kanhu, Phulo–Jhano, Nilambar–Pitambar, Sohbat Miyan, Chandan Miyan, Jaggu Miyan and Najahat Hussain are a part of Jharkhand’s resistance history during the 1857 revolt, yet they remain largely forgotten.”
Hussain argues that the Jharkhand government must project its revolutionaries on a larger scale for the central government to take meaningful steps. “Even platforms like Google and Wikipedia carry very limited information about them,” he said.
He suggests state-funded research, naming welfare schemes and government buildings after revolutionaries and honouring their descendants are ways to restore their place in public memory.
Ruchi Kujur, an activist working on SC and ST rights and a member of the Jharkhand State Commission for Protection of Child Rights, said every state has its own history, and Jharkhand is rich with stories of courage and resistance. “The list of Adivasi and SC heroes is long,” she said.
“People need to be made aware of their ancestors’ sacrifices. When these revolutionaries are honoured, it inspires the younger generation to work for society and the nation.”
Situated amid a valley rich in natural beauty, the martyr memorial complex (Shaheed Sthal) has been developed with basic amenities. Yet, several factors discourage people from visiting the site, further deepening the lack of public awareness about the martyrs. Surrounded by dense forests and hills, the memorial lies in an isolated location, with no human habitation within a radius of nearly five kilometres. This isolation is a major reason why people hesitate to visit the site, either alone or with their families.
The premise includes resting sheds, benches and toilet facilities. However, due to poor maintenance, thick shrubs have grown across the complex. Lights installed in the area and doors of the toilets have reportedly been stolen. Although the police conduct patrols from time to time, the absence of adequate security continues to deter visitors.
Ghulam Ahmad Raza is a Jharkhand-based freelance journalist with over four years of experience. He has worked as a City Reporter with Pratah Awazand as aSub Editor with Prabhat Mantra. His reporting focuses on marginalised communities, forgotten histories and grassroots political narratives.
source: http://www.maktoobmedia.com / Maktoob Media / Home> East India / by Ghulam Ahmad Raza / January 29th, 2026
