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CHAPTER-III
INTERROGATING NATIONALISM: AN ANALYSIS OF
AMITAV GHOSH'S THE SHADOW LINES
The forms and subjects of imaginative literature have influenced
the discourse of nationalism in a number of ways. The role of literature is
very decisive in the rise of modern nation-states in Europe in the late 18th
and the early 19th centuries. The emergence of nations was generally
associated with the advent of the ‘national print media’, the novels and
the newspapers. Their impact is found in the standardization of language,
promotion of literacy and the emergence of distinct national literature.
Anderson’s Imagined Communities extensively discusses how the manner
of presentation adopted by the novel and the newspaper allowed people to
imagine the special community that was the nation: ‘[T]he movement of a
solitary hero through a social landscape of a fixity that fuses the world
inside the novel with the world outside. The picaresque tour d’ horizon-
hospitals, prisons, remote villages, monasteries, Indians, Negroes- is
nonetheless not a tour du monde. The horizon is clearly bounded.’(35)
All forms of imaginative literature have contributed to the
formation of nations. Among them the role played by the novel is
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remarkably significant. Even a novel which claims to be completely
apolitical does present some or other kind of vision of the nation.
Timothy Brennen in his ‘The National Longing for Form’ elaborates this
point:
It was the novel that historically accompanied the rise of
nations by objectifying one, yet many of national life, and by
mimicking the structure of the nation, a clearly bordered
jumble of languages and styles … Its manner of presentation
allowed people to imagine the special community that was
the nation. (50)
Brennan develops this idea with the help of Mikhail Bakhtin’s notions of
‘heteroglossia’ and ‘dialogism’. Bakhtin observes that the novel
originates in a period when
The world becomes polyglot, once and for all and
irreversibly. The period of national languages, co-existing
but closed and deaf to each other, comes to an end…. The
naive and stubborn coexistence of languages within a given
national language also comes to an end-that is, there is no
more peaceful coexistence between territorial dialects, social
and professional dialects and jargons, literary language,
epochs in language, and so on. (12)
164
Thus it was in the novel that many languages that were previously foreign
intermingled forming a profusion of ideas and styles indicative of the
heterogeneity within the nation that was forcefully led to accept a
common identity.
The literary genre that the novel parodied in its nation-forming role
was the epic. The epic whose narrative is characterized by certain
expressions like ‘beginning’, ‘first’, ‘founder’, ‘ancestor’, ‘that which
occurred earlier’ forms an excellent rhetoric of nationhood. The novel by
documenting contemporary life and manners represents the nation more
effectively than the epic. The epic fundamentally is a narrative of past
events; whereas the novel is a live record of the contemporary world cast
in an open-ended time frame. The novel, ‘instead of furthering
unquestioning, ritualistic reaffirmations of a people (as in epic) becomes
a contemporary, practical means of creating people’ (Brennan 50). By
exploring the assumptions, hopes, needs, longings, and interests of the
ordinary people living in the present, the novel makes a realistic
representation of the nation.
In my first chapter, I have made a detailed note on the differences
between the socio-political factors that triggered nationalism in Europe
and the colonial world. In the European context, nationalism was a timely
answer to a number of questions associated with the formation of new
identities after the linguistic and dynastic rupture. In the newly formed
165
bourgeois society after the fragmentation of papal empire and the decline
of the medieval empires, it was the novel that set new standards for
language and representation. All these factors point to the fact that the
nation was one of the necessary concomitants of capitalism in the West.
Unlike this, the novel emerged in the Third World mostly as an
expression of the subjugated people’s quest for identity and cultural roots.
The major objective behind it was to resist the ongoing cultural
onslaughts from the West. The novel depicted the friction between newer
and older values and a general wish to construct a civil society. Basically,
it embodied the dilemma the anglicized intelligentsia, who were
struggling to strike a balance between the eastern and Western ethos, was
in.
The novels written in the wake of independence mainly focused on
defining and refiguring an indigenously born Indian national identity.
Often the roots of the national identity were traced to the Brahminic
tradition of the Vedic period. In the second chapter, I have tried to
discuss elaborately the contributions of the nationalist historians towards
this end. Unlike histories and historic novels, this task is more effectively
done by the novels. Since the novelists enjoyed more freedom in the
invention of traditions and refiguration of historical facts than the
historians, they proved to be better advocates of nationalism than the
historians. That is the reason why Bankim Chandra’s Anand Math turned
166
out to be more efficacious in the nation-making programmes than the
histories produced in the interim. When the initial enthusiasm of nation
building waned during 1970s and 80s, there emerged a number of novels
that questioned the very rationale of nationalism. Simultaneously there
came up a tendency to address regional or sub-regional identities within
the nation. There are many writers who addressed the problems of
nationalism among the Indian-English writers. I will refer to them in this
chapter itself while discussing the shifting positions the Indian English
fiction have adopted towards nationalism in the recent times. These
novels presented the nation as a proliferator of diverse cultures and
territories that should have been otherwise autonomous. Writers like
O.V. Vijayan, V.K.N, Mukundan and Anand in Malayalam undertook
earnest attempts to explore the fissures in the nationalist dream. V.K.N
problematised the political situation in India; Vijayan, Mukundan and
Anand focused on communities like illegal immigrants, linguistic
diasporas and the destitute outside the national boundaries.
The object of my research is as I remarked in the introduction to
analyze four fictional works The Shadow Lines by Amitav Ghosh, The
Great Indian Novel by Shashi Tharoor, Legends of Khasak by
O.V.Vijayan and Bovine Bugles by V.K.N as discourses on interrogating
nationalism. Two of the texts in this group are in English and the other
two are the English versions of two Malayalam novels. My study aims at
167
juxtaposing the Malayalam texts and the English texts in order to identify
the differences in tone, orientation and trajectories of a regional discourse
and a pan–Indian discourse. It has been mentioned in the previous chapter
that Indian nationalism operates on two clearly demarcated levels: the
pan-Indian and the regional. On the pan-Indian level the nation
symbolizes the tradition and practices of those who reside in the national
terrain. The local and provincial ethos rarely finds access or entry in that
realm. As such the novels with a pan-Indian ambience and orientation
miss the real flavour of India. The interrogation of nationalism
undertaken by these novels often fails to address the actuality of the
Indian nation whereas the regional novels pose a real critique of the
nation by voicing much of the ideological deceptions enmeshed in
mainstream nationalism. They posit national identity as the profusion of
countless regional and sub regional identities. They interrogate
nationalism by exploring the specificities of the sub-nationalities within
the nation. The Shadow Lines and The Great Indian Novel are written
more or less from a pan-Indian standpoint. They can be taken as
explorations into the problematics of the nationalist ideology. Legends of
Khasak and Bovine Bugles present different levels of regional responses
against the nationalist ideals. The contrast is essentially between a
sthalapurana (a micro narrative) and a deshapurana (a macro narrative)
with regard to the interrogation of nationalism.
168
This chapter examines the various dimensions of the question of
nationalism represented by Amitav Ghosh’s The Shadow Lines. This
novel, like most of other Indian English novels, views the nation from a
pan-Indian vantage point. Before analyzing the novel from the
aforementioned perspective, I would like to give a brief outline of the
shifting positions the Indian English fiction have adopted towards
nationalism over a few decades. Indian English fiction, being a child born
out of a conglomeration of native sensibility and foreign language, differ
from the regional novels both in terms of their representation and
interrogation of nationalism. The postcolonial totality called ‘India’
figures only in the works of the Indian English novelists. They are
supposed to be the legitimized articulators of Indian identity or
Indianness. In contemporary literature the word ‘Indian’ is used only in
association with the word ‘English’; yes, there is no Indian novel in
Malayalam or in Punjabi or in Telugu. Instead of producing an all-
inclusive national narrative, regional writers have sought to represent the
nation in ellipsis. Most of these writers repudiated the idea of the nation
and preferred to write about their particular locality, culture and
traditions. Whenever they speak about a national issue, their articulations
are represented as emanating from their cultural and linguistic rootedness.
In Indian English novels it is difficult to perceive this kind of vantage
point constituted of a particular region or culture. What we see in them is
169
a nation compressed and condensed according to the taste and sensibility
of an international audience. A profound sense of the dynamics of Indian
identity and cultural ethos is missing in them. To a large extent, these
limitations are caused by their restricted linguistic and cultural resources
and poor social affiliations.
As against novels written in other Indian languages, Indian English
fiction had a relatively slow start. Starting from Gandhian-economics
oriented novel Murugan the Tiller (1927) by K.S.Venkataramani, it
gathered momentum. Gradually it acquired new dimensions of power and
recognition with the arrival of the famous trio, Mulk Raj Anand, Raja
Rao and R.K. Narayan. At every stage of its development, Indian English
fiction has been influenced by some dominant literary trends in the Euro-
American world. Some of the major themes commonly found in Indian
English fiction are nationalism, East-West conflict, Gandhian philosophy,
independence struggle, and many other social and economic issues like
casteism, poverty, industrialization, etc. In the post-independence era the
novel has attained enough pluck and maturity to discuss many complex
topics like imperialism, multiculturalism, problems of national identity
and sovereignty of nations.
The early Indian English novels modelled more or less on the 18th
century English social novels, had their immediate context in the
nationalist movement. They were social documents set against the issue
170
of nationalism. In India the nationalist movement was inalienably
entwined with social reformation. The novels of 1920s and 30s were
documents of this changing socio-political scenario. Novelists like Mulk
Raj Anand and Raja Rao were distinctive in terms of their preoccupations
with the socio-political issues of the time. Many of the burning issues of
the time like the upliftment of the low caste, women and the poor were
seriously discussed in their works. Raja Rao’s novels, especially
Kanthapura, were often quoted as powerful narratives of resistance
leading to the subversion of the colonizer’s misconception of India as a
passive and backward country. By ingeniously mixing myth and history
Kanthapura challenged the hegemony of Western narrative strategies.
Novels of Anand were also distinctive in terms of their subversion of
British literary imperialism. Anand’s selection of the marginalized as
protagonists for his works was something unprecedented in the literary
history of both India and Europe. He reverted the stereotyped romantic
notions of hero by making a harijan the protagonist in his Untouchable.
He also questioned the authority of conventional narratology by
incorporating a lot of modern techniques in it. This phenomenon should
be viewed as an impact engendered by the superimposition of Marxist
literature on socio-political concerns of the time.
Indian English novels written during 1950s and 60s were
characteristically experimental both in theme and form. They were aptly
171
described as novels of East-West encounter. The influence of Western
existentialist thoughts of Sartre and Camus and the so-called Joycean
technique of stream of consciousness were strikingly visible in them.
Generally two types of themes recur in these novels: ‘(i) the search for
self identity in a metaphysical or ethnic sense as in the novels of Raja
Rao, B.Rajan and Kamala Markandaya, and (ii) the introvert’s probing
into the inner mind, as in Anita Desai’s novels’(Kirpal 23).It is
noteworthy here that the disjointed, fragmented sensibility (as noticed in
Joyce’s or Faulkner’s novels) associated with the European experience of
alienation after the collapse of the post World-War society didn’t create
much furor or excitement in India. We had a somewhat corresponding
during the partition when a quarter million Sikhs and Hindus were
massacred and left adrift and homeless. Its reverberations were felt in a
few regions like Punjab and Lucknow. Even those works that embraced
existentialist style of writing, within a few years, bounced back into the
mainstream style of writing. Viney Kirpal’s excerpt is noteworthy here.
He opines:
Although a sense of meaninglessness and the absurd did grip
the refugee families, existentialism as a philosophy has been
more real to post World-War Europe than here.
Existentialism endowed a romantic persona to European
artists and fictional characters as both stood outside society
172
to challenge its social, religious conventions, the Church and
the State. Neither as a philosophy nor as a literary
phenomenon did existentialism and Western modernism take
root in the Indian mind. (24)
During 1960s and 1970s, by reason of the general disillusionment
of the time, there emerged a number of literary works exhibiting the
growing apprehension of nationalism. The 1970s were a sort of gestation
period for the revolution in fictional technique and national sensibility
that was doomed to occur in the 1980s. The Emergency period (1975-77)
with its repressive and tyrannical policies shook the Indian consciousness
to its very roots. Novelists of this period once again felt the urgency of a
spirited resistance and opposition against the oppressive system as they
did in 1920s and 1930s against the British. In place of the imperial rulers,
they made Mrs. Gandhi their target of attack and object of raillery. A
great number of novels, ranging from Salman Rushdies Midnight’s
Children to Rohinton Mistry’s Such a Long Distance explored this theme
and worked out multiple possibilities in the presentation of national
history. Thus the theme of Emergency and Indira Gandhi’s repressive
misrule became a subject for various levels of interrogation and
interpretation as well as an excuse for revolutionized fictional technique.
Unlike the socially committed novels of 1920s and 1930s, these novels
didn’t help to raise any public consciousness or empathy whereas they let
173
loose a frontal attack on the State for its authoritarian and ideological
stance towards the people. As a result of these twin revolutions, i.e.,
thematic and formalistic, the official version of Emergency underwent
multiple levels of distortions and reversions. It was in this period that
literature showed a tendency towards regionalism and sectarianism. It
resulted in the production mainly of two kinds of fiction: (i) novels that
presented the nation in negative terms through excessive use of
subversive narrative forms and black humour (eg.Shashi Tharoor’s The
Great Indian Novel and Anita Desai’s Clear Light of the Day), (ii) novels
that explored the regional and sub-regional identities within the nation
(eg. Balraj Khanna’s A Nation of Fools and Pratap Sharma’s The Days of
the Turban – both about Punjab; Bapsi Sidhwa’s Ice Candy Man -- about
the Parsi sub-culture).
Many Indian English writers of the 1980s found Rushdie’s
paradigm i.e., multiple ways of seeing things, hybridization of language,
telling personal stories as national epics, very interesting. Some
prominent new writers like Namita Gokhale (Paro: Dreams of Passion),
Amitav Ghosh (The Circle of Reason, The Shadow Lines), Upamanyu
Chatterjee (English, August and The Last Burden), Boman Desai (The
Memory of Elephants), Allan Sealy (The Trotter Nama and Hero) and
Nina Sibal (Yatra) are indebted to Rushdie for their executive works.
174
Some of the characteristic features shared by the ‘Rushdie-influenced’
novels in general are:
a multigenerational, mock-epic family saga, complete with
family trees, maps, and a long list of dramatis personae, that
tells the story of the protagonist’s family as a national
history; Rege2) a rejection of the traditional, social-realist
novel: larger-than-life allegorical characters and events in
the tradition of magical realism; (3) both a fluency in
standard English and a confidence with the language that
allows the unembarrassed creative use of various kinds of
Indian English; (4) a sprawling, rambling style, full of
digressions and humour; (5) the use of myth, oral tradition,
and different versions and ideas of history; and (6) a playful
irreverence for the sacred cows of nationalism and religion.
(Rege 125)
In short, the national/personal narratives written during 1980s celebrated
the simultaneous identity and duality of self and nation by exploring the
creative potential of ambivalence.
The radical indeterminacy and postmodern free play that
characterized the novels of 1980s were not explicitly present in the post-
Rushdie fiction. These novels were found to be moving beyond
ambivalence and remained ideologically committed to the nation.
175
Ultimately The Midnight’s Children set forth the labyrinthine framework
of modern nations and the entanglement of citizens within it. It
simultaneously challenged and reinforced the national framework and
stressed the inability of renouncing it. Post-Rushdie novels, especially
Mukul Kesavan’s Looking Through Glass (1995), too expounded the
experiences of being caught up in national history and challenged the
official nationalist version of it. The difference is that it didn’t reject the
nation altogether, but replaced nationalist politics by a local or region-
based loyalty.
Indian English fiction is undeniably one of the booming fields in the
present day literature of the nation. Although it has to its credit quite a
large number of texts of which some are remarkably outstanding both in
terms of theme and technique, a substantial number of critics still regard
this genre as a minor, not-very-important, area of literature. Literatures of
the centre are generally considered to be peripheral literatures that do not
concern themselves with the vast majority of Indians. Even though they
refer to most of the issues in contemporary politics, their socio-political
commitment is dubiously viewed in the mainstream academic circle. In
his article ‘The Indian English Novel 1980-1990: An Overview’, G.N.
Devy explicitly discusses the questions of marginality and the social
consciousness of Indian English writing. Taking into consideration its
lack of a regional base, Devy has assigned it the status of ‘pocket
176
literature’. He argues that Indian English fiction that works through
linguistic and cultural hybridization and social exclusion is incapable of
incorporating the cultural tributaries at the regional level (12-14). Since
Indian English fiction addresses primarily an international audience or at
the best the rising middle class in India, its main agenda is to highlight
certain aspects of India that might amuse and entertain its consumers.
The vim and vigour of Indian social life is missing in them. Most of the
writers in this school have no stakes in the Indian society. A very large
number of writers in this group are expatriate writers who do not consider
themselves as Indians; they identify themselves as Canadian or American
or British Asians. About the writers who live in India, the peculiar thing
to be noticed is that most of their books are published abroad. The
colonial mental habits still prevails in the literary circles and our writers
are lured by the false value attached to the books with a foreign,
especially the first nation label. In actuality most of these novels with a
London imprint are not much better in terms of literary merit than an
average fictional writing in the Indian languages. The regional literatures,
as compared to the Indian English literatures, had a very long history
with traditions of established criticism. In the age of global capitalism
and cross-cultural and trans-national literary outputs these literary
expressions failed to gather the proper attention they command. Hence
the discussion on the novels in the Indian English family demands a
177
thorough investigation of their generic features constituted by their
bilingual, bicultural, upper class, socially restricted, linguistically cut off
existence.
The relevance of The Shadow Lines as a national narrative lies in
its delineation of the dynamics of nationness and national identity. The
novel problematises the nation by exploring the different dimensions of
the issues of ‘identity’, ‘freedom’ and ‘cross-cultural interactions’. In the
present-day world, that witnessed the collapse of different political blocks
and nation-states, and the rise of international capitalism and global
market, nationalism is no longer considered to be the ‘grand narrative’ of
history. The Shadow Lines explodes the legacy of the colonial political
heritage that affirms the centrality of nations by questioning the relevance
and continued validity of nations in the global society. All in all, the
novel forms an eloquent critique of nationalism and proposes
internationalism as the ideal form of existence.
Ghosh’s reflections on nationalism are more or less an extension of
Gelner’s theory that nationalism invents nations where they do not exist
(169). Ghosh regards the nation, Rudrashish Chakraborty observes, ‘as a
“construct” rather than a concrete reality, having more shadow than
substance. As a logical corollary to this is the idea of “nationalism”
which is fallacious- a propaganda exercise, full of gaps and fissures’
(179). Conforming to this view The Shadow Lines presents the nation as
178
artificial and irrational entity which is deeply fractured. The central
concern of the novel is to highlight the failures of nationalism and
nationalist government in accommodating the innate demands and
aspirations of the people. Written against the backdrop of the civil strife
in post-partition East Bengal and riot-hit Calcutta the novel probes the
causes of political unrest and unravels its deep lying impacts on
individual lives and social relations. Focusing on the lives of a group of
characters who went through the trauma of partition, the novel aims to lay
bare the hollowness of homogeneity that was imposed on Indian
nationalism. Ultimately the novel questions the political logic of
partition and the viability of the neatly drawn national boundaries as the
criterion for defining national and cultural identity. The novel also
documents the rise of religious sub-nationalisms and the ongoing inter-
religious and intra-national conflicts triggered by them. The lurking
danger of communal strife and the grotesque logic behind it is very
powerfully depicted in it. Pitted against these events and issues the novel
undertakes a serious investigation into the meaning of political and
personal freedom in the modern world. Ultimately it is a search for an
authentic selfhood and meaningful existence through freedom.
Basically The Shadow Lines is a family saga that unfurls an
international cross-cultural relation between two families- the Datta
Choudhuris of Bengal and the Prices of London- over three generations.
179
The abiding relation between the members of the family is illustrative of
the power of imagination that connects places with places and people
with people. The main argument of the novel is that a cross-cultural,
international space that amalgamates different national identities can be
accomplished through an inclusive imagination. The family story and
political history are dexterously woven together in the body of the novel.
The narrative which begins in 1939 with the outbreak of the Second
World War and ends in 1964 with the explosion of post-partition
communal violence in India and Bangladesh forms a brilliant document
of the major socio-political developments of that period. The first
section of the book titled as ‘Going Away’ delineates London on the eve
of the Second World War. In the second section, ‘coming Home’ the
focus is shifted to Calcutta and Dhaka. Here Ghosh recounts the
tumultuous situation caused by the Partition and the resultant
developments like communal frenzy and violence. The focus of the
narrative is to explore the meanings of such events and their effects on
the individuals who live through them. Indian nationalism, the legacy of a
century long life-and-death struggle against the British, lost its meaning
after the partition. The trauma and confusion of the uprooted East
Bengali families after the dismembering of Bengal in 1947is very
powerfully depicted in the novel. The novel presents the nation-making
as a border making programme which ultimately results in the separation
180
of people and places from one another. The irrationality and absurdity of
separating people by drawing lines and the shadowy nature of such lines
is emphasized throughout the novel through various images. It highlights
certain issues like political violence, communal hatred, dislocation and
realignment of family as the necessary concomitant of nationalism. The
theme of violence runs as an undercurrent to the narrative thread. All the
major characters in one way or other are victims of political violence.
The novel shows through various instances how violence gets into
personal lives and how the freedom is ultimately tarnished by it. The
implication of the novel is the need for crossing all boundaries constituted
by nation, culture and language and establishing strong humanitarian ties
across cultures.
The preoccupation of the novel that the ideal world without any
national divide can be actualized only through the liberation of the
individuals from the narrow concerns that encapsulate them echoes
Gandhi’s visions set forth in his Hind Swaraj on the construction of a
trans-national society. I have already mentioned in the second chapter
that Gandhi has regarded the liberation of the individual from himself as
the ideal thing to be expected in a nation and such a nation has every
chance of evolving into a universal society. The shadow Lines elucidates
this theme by portraying the evolution of the narrator as a self-
transcended universal citizen. Tridib, the representative of cross-cultural
181
perspective in the novel, with his ‘expanded horizons and imaginative
understanding of the world’ (Dharwan 22) teaches the narrator how to
defy the shadow lines of language, religion and culture and explore some
basic traits of human feelings and attitudes which may prevail in all ages
all through one’s life. Tridib enlightens it by making one recognize the
creative potential of the imagination. The narrator to whom Tridib
accords worlds to travel in and eyes to see through finally discovers
himself as an alter ego of his mentor, Tridib himself.
The Shadow Lines explores the meaning of nationalism and
political freedom mainly by analyzing the different dimensions of three
major political movements vis-à-vis the Second World War, the partition
of the Indian nation and the communal riots of 1964 after the
disappearance of the sacred relics from the Hazratbal mosque. Ghosh
draws parallels between wars of Europe and the riots on Indian
subcontinent to explicate the universal nature of political violence. The
novel brings out the horrors of the Second World War through Tridib’s
ruminations on the war-torn London. Tridib was an eight year old child
then. His family stayed with Mrs. Price, their family friend in London for
a whole year when the war started. Tridib told the narrator how they
lived in those days with the terror of German air raids. Mrs. Price’s
brother Alan Tresawsen and his three friends were killed in an attack. All
of them were young intellectuals having a lot of dreams and aspirations
182
about future. On them Tridib comments, ‘nobody can ever know what it
was like to be young and intelligent in the summer of 1939 in London or
Berlin’ (68). The Second World War, which was basically an expression
of extremist nationalism, underscores ghosh’s thesis of nationalism as a
breeding ground of sectarianism and violence.
The novel brings out the racist currents pervasive in English
society through the depiction of Ila’s experience of the racial
discrimination at London school. Ila who wrote English better than her
class mates was always envied by the native students. One day, after her
school hours, she was attacked by a native girl. Being a brown-skinned
girl, nobody came to her rescue. Even Nick, with whose family Ila’s
family got an intimate relationship for over three generations, rushed to
his home to avoid being seen in her company. Ila, the daughter of a
distinguished UN official and the grand daughter of Justice Mr. Datta
Choudhuri belonging to an aristocratic family in Calcutta, marries this
Nick inspite of his constant neglect of her. Even after their marriage, Nick
ill treats her and indulges in illicit sexual relations with other women.
Though Nick is jobless and lives on Ila’s income in an apartment bought
by her father, he never feels the necessity of being loyal to this ‘dirty
Indian slut’. When Ila discards her Indian identity by preferring to live in
England and strives after regaining Nick’s love, she is unconsciously
reinforcing her subject position constituted by her Third World identity.
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The novel documents the partition of the Indian subcontinent and
the violence it unleashed as the most traumatic experience in the recent
history of Indian nation. Its trauma continues through three generations
of the narrator’s family. Novels like Sunil Gangopadhyay’s Purb
Paschim, Khushwant Singh’s Train to Pakistan, Bapsi Sidhwa’s Ice
Candy Man, Attaia Hosain’s Sunlight on a Broken Column, written
around the issue of partition echoes the same theme. The Shadow Lines
also speaks of the agonies of displacement, sense of alienation and the
nostalgic longing for the past. The Bengali diaspora who has been
dispersed to distant lands after the partition cannot escape the
psychological vacuum that pestered their lives for ever. The East
Bengalis recall the 15th August 1947 as a day of partition, not as a day of
Independence. Rather than providing the people a sense of belongingness
and freedom, it ended up in the unleashing of the worst sort of
malevolence and communal frenzy leading to an abrupt end to the long
cherished history of communal amity and common heritage. Ghosh
argues that border lines cannot destroy the fundamental unity of people
living on both sides of the boundary.
In The Shadow Lines the character who typifies the post-
partition syndrome of rootlessness and divided self is Thamma, the
narrator’s grandmother. Like the countless other victims of the partition
she too has gone through the experiences of displacement and
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dispossession, struggle and fear. Thamma, born in Dhaka was forced to
migrate to Calcutta in the wake of the horrid days of partition, represents
certain fossilized visions of nationalism. It is through Thamma that
Ghosh brings to the fore most of the taken for granted assumptions about
nationalism. According to Thamma nation is the only marker of an
individual’s identity in the modern world. Contrary to her belief, she
finds her political identity a big question mark. Like millions of other
victims of partition, Thamma has no ‘home but in memory’ (194).
Though she identifies Dhaka as her home she has no access to it as it is in
another country where she is a foreigner. She interrogates herself by
throwing some questions like, ‘who am I? Am I an Indian merely because
I am a Hindu and live in Calcutta?’(21). For Thamma it is the sad
realization that she has no roots in the nation which acknowledges her as
its citizen.
Central to the conception of the novel is the attempt to deconstruct
the unified notions of national identity. Thamma challenges many of our
notions of homogenous national identity. Her political identity and sense
of belonging remain poles apart. This psychic confusion reaches its peak
when she goes to Dhaka after long years of separation. She visualizes her
journey not as going but as coming to Dhaka. The impact one’s place of
birth leaves on one is so powerful that one can only speak of a journey to
that place only in terms of homecoming. Anterior to her visit to Dhaka
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she hopes that she can see the borders between India and Pakistan from
the aero plane. Her son mocks at her and asks whether she expects a long
black line with green on one side and scarlet on the other as in a school
atlas between these two nations. She finds it difficult to comprehend that
there is no visible symbol of partition between the two places. Her
wonder never ceases and she asks her son,
But if there aren’t any trenches or anything, how are
people to know? I mean, where’s the difference then?
And if there’s no difference both sides will be the same;
it will be just like it used to be before, when we used to
catch a train in Dhaka and get off in Calcutta the next day
without anybody stopping us. What was it all for then-
partition and all the killing and everything – if there isn’t
something in between? (151)
Thamma gets utterly puzzled when she is told by her son that ‘the border
isn’t on the frontier: it’s right inside the airport. You’ll see. You’ll cross
it when you have to fill in all those disembarkation cards and things.’
(152). It is at this moment that she realizes the naked truth that ‘her place
of birth had come to be so messily at odds with her nationality’ (152).
Painfully she realizes the truth that she is much more a foreigner in her
native land than May price, the English woman who doesn’t even need a
visa to visit Dhaka. Her Dhaka is no more a reality now. It has
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disappeared into a remote past. Here Thamma becomes a victim of
nationalism, whose desire to get identified by the nation where she is
rooted, is never fulfilled. As stated by Tridib,
All she wanted was a middle-class life in which, like the
middle classes the world over, she would thrive believing in
the unity of nationhood and territory, of self respect and
national power: that was all she wanted- a modern middle-
class life, a small thing that history has denied her in its
fullness and for which she could never forgive it (78).
Ghosh presents Thamma as a staunch nationalist who
cherished certain radical visions of nationalism. She considers
nationalism as a liberatory force; liberation from the fetters of oppressive
forces. She inherits this spirit of freedom from the turbulent socio-
political developments she witnessed as a child and a college-going
student. When freedom struggle reached its peak she was a young girl in
Dhaka. As a student she was exposed to the fierce revolutionary
nationalist spirit that was sweeping through Bengal. She desired to be a
part of that revolution by helping the revolutionaries in circulating
propaganda or transporting weapons or running errands for the terrorists.
She feels that the political freedom obtained after long years of struggle
against the foreign forces, should be protected at all costs. One has to be
ready to die for one’s country or even to kill others. It is this conviction
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of freedom that differentiates her from Ila, her sister’s grand daughter.
Ila, unable to adapt to the society of her relatives escapes to England, a
society which accommodates her sense of freedom and morality. In
Thamma’s words freedom for Ila is a right to do what she pleases in the
permissive society of a country like England. Thamma says that Ila
doesn’t even understand the true spirit of England and she has no right to
live in that country. Everyone who lives in England ‘has earned his right
to be there with blood with their brothers’ blood and their fathers’ blood
and their sons’ blood. They know they’re a nation because they’ve drawn
their border with blood’ (78). She explains the creed of English men as:
War is their religion. That is what it takes to make a
country. Once that happens people forget they were born
this or that, Muslim or Hindu, Bengali or Punjabi: They
become a family born of the same pool of blood. That is
what you have to achieve for India, don’t you see? (78)
Thamma’s idealist views about nationalism fade after she
witnessed Tridib’s death at the hands of the rioting mob in Dhaka. Her
sense of identification with her place of birth undergoes a thorough
transformation after this event. Her nostalgic sentiments for Dhaka turn
into a feeling of hatred. When she hears the news about Indo-Pak war on
the radio, she cries: ‘We have to kill them before they kill us; we have to
wipe them out.’ She continues, ‘this is the only chance ....The only one.
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We are fighting them properly at last, with tanks and guns and bombs’
(237). She even donates her favourite necklace, the first gift that she
received from her husband after her marriage, for the war funds. The
news about the war was so disturbing to her that while listening to the
radio news she lets her fist drive into its glass front. When she finds her
hand severely bruised and bleeding, she regains her calm and says, ‘I
must get to the hospital .... I mustn’t waste this blood. I can donate it to
the war fund’ (237). Having gone through the trauma of partition, and
having lost her sister’s son in the riot, she sees the war with Pakistan as
her last chance for survival. Her concern is for the younger generation,
their freedom and well-being. This anxiety haunts her until her death.
About her grandson the narrator, she fears that Ila has cast a vicious spell
upon him. It is in this delirious state that she posts a letter to the Dean of
his college informing him that the narrator was in the habit of visiting
brothels in Delhi and he should not be allowed to continue in the college.
Thus Ghosh portrays Thamma as the most powerful character of the
novel. The shifting positions she adopts towards nationalism suggest the
contiguous nature of the nationalist sentiment. Just as nations, nationalist
sentiments and feelings are also contiguous with a lot of personal and
social factors. As to the nations, nothing is eternal or permanent about it,
either be it the borders, or be it the sense of loyalty one has for it. Just
like national borders, national identity is also an arbitrary thing. In other
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words, it is an ephemeral entity that is continuously revisable and
reproducible in terms of the changes in certain factors like religion,
politics, language, etc.
Another instance of political violence delineated in the novel is the
communal strife in Calcutta, erstwhile East Pakistan and its concomitant
flare up in India. On 27 December 1963, a relic, believed to be a hair of
the Prophet Muhammed, disappeared from the Hazratbal Mosque in
Srinagar. People in the valley demonstrated and took out procession
against it. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t trigger even a single incident
leading to any religious discord or disruption in the Kashmir Valley.
Unfortunately, a demonstration turned violent in Khulna, a small town in
the distant east wing of Pakistan. Tridib, who had gone to rescue his
mother’s Jethamoshai settled down in Dhaka, succumbed to one of these
riots. The tremors of these riots ran all through India and jolted
thousands of people on the subcontinent. The narrator comments on it,
It is a fear that contingent, that the spaces that surround one,
the streets that the spaces that normalcy is utterly contingent,
that the spaces that surround one, the streets that one
inhabits, can become, suddenly and without warning, as
hostile as a desert in a flash flood...... it is the perpetual
quality of loneliness that grows out of the fear of the, war
between oneself and one’s image in the mirror. (204)
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The narrator, a school going student, was also affected by it. On a
certain day in the early January of 1964, his school plyed with very few
children who were told that the Muslims had poisoned the Tala Tank that
supplied water to the entire city of Calcutta. At school their classes were
let off half way through. On their way home an unruly mob chased their
bus and threw stones at it. This incident sowed the seeds of discord even
in the mind of the young children. After this incident the narrator was
frightened to talk with his best friend, a Muslim boy. The children
realized that the place where they reside and the people with whom they
are in close contact, may turn out all on a sudden, to be very dangerous
and hostile.
Here Ghosh is giving a new dimension to geographic distance and
people’s sense of closeness. These incidents suggest that people and
places can get interrelated either through mutual discord or through
empathy irrespective of geographic distance. The implication here is that
there exists certain levels of identification and commonality of interests
cutting across the national consciousness. There are a lot of questions in
life that interconnect people transcending the interest of nation. He shows
how certain unconnected incidents across national and regional borders
get connected in a most haunting manner. Ghosh argues that communities
by nature are trans-national and the demarcation on them can be
understood only through a looking glass metaphor. The narrator says,
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The simple fact that there had never been a moment in the
four-thousand-year-old history of that map, when the place
we know as Dhaka and Calcutta were more closely bound to
each other than after they had drawn their lines- so closely
that I, in Calcutta, had only to look into the mirror to be in
Dhaka: a moment when each city was the invented image of
the other, locked into an irreversible symmetry by the line
that was to set us free - our looking glass border.(233)
The quest for freedom is the central motif in the plot of The
Shadow Lines. The novel brings to the fore competing visions of freedom
as represented by different characters. The ideal vision is highlighted by
suggesting the limitations of others. These visions of freedom are closely
connected with the vision of nationalism upheld by each of the characters.
As for Thamma, the representative voice of the Bengali bhadralok
(Bengali word for the middle class people) nationalism, freedom is
liberation from the colonial yoke. Thamma, who inhaled the sprit of
revolutionary terrorism brought about by the secret societies like
Anushilan and Juganter that carried on clandestine activities in Bengal,
upheld a militant vision of nationalism. She has perfect confidence in the
absoluteness of nations and the freedom it may provide to people. Her
liminal position as a national individual often challenges her own notions
of absolute nation. Later on, when the freedom was actualized in 1947,
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she realized that it didn’t yield the desired-for results. It was a sad
realization for her because the political freedom won by the nation paved
the way for new grounds of hatred and animosity. She believed that
partition and the subsequent nation formation might bring about certain
better results and make people politically independent. It was a painful
realization for her that the partition brought in its wake nothing but a
senseless and irrational separation and alienation of people who had been
bound together emotionally and culturally in a bond of intimacy and
comradeship. The tragic and comic aspect of partition is highlighted
through the portrayal of the partition of Thamma’s ancestral home in
Dhaka consequent to a quarrel between her father and his elder brother.
The partition of the ancestral home with a clear demarcation line
bisecting an old toilet throws light on the spiteful comedy associated with
this partition. It implies that the act of partition is tantamount to the act of
bisection of a traditional home commode and the separation of brothers.
When she witnessed the tragic end of Tridib and Jethamoshai in the riot,
her fond memories and cherished dreams about her ancestral house and
native place gave way to an outpouring hatred. We find her in an
extremely frantic and despondent mood in the end as if she were
surrounded by enemies on all sides. She ardently believed that only
nations could provide the political identity and freedom one needs to live
in the modern world. As nations remain always under threat of attack, the
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political freedom in the modern world is also fraught with risk and
jeopardy.
In The Shadow Lines, the person who represents the ideal vision of
freedom is Tridib. Ghosh’s reflections on post-nationalism are mainly
conveyed through this character. Tridib aspires to go beyond the limits of
his mind to other times and other places where, ‘there was no border
between oneself and one’s image in the mirror’ (29). He conceives the
nation as an artificial and indifferent social formation designed by state
imposed boundaries, bereft of humanitarian values. Hence to transcend
these barriers, one should ultimately transcend the barriers of mind by
using one’s imagination precisely. This creative use of imagination
enables him to travel to the interior recess of persons and places and
make his own inventions about them. He says, ‘a place does not merely
exist, it has to be invented in one’s imagination’ (21). Though Ila has
travelled round the world, it is of no use as she is unable to invent those
worlds within herself. It is with this imaginative power that Tridib
establishes such a deep and sentimental attachment with May Price.
Tridib saw May as a little baby when he went to England with his parents
in 1939. Even though he never saw her after that, he wrote an amorous
letter to May when she turned eighteen, expressing his desire to have
sexual intercourse with her. By the time Tridib met May in India in 1962,
this intimacy had ripened into a strong and intense love affair. He
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explains it to the narrator as, ‘one could never know anything except
through desire, real desire, which was not the same thing as greed or lust,
a pure, painful and primitive desire’ (29) even without seeing or talking
with the other one. This ideal relationship invalidates all questions of
national, cultural and linguistic barriers that exist between individuals.
The theme of cross-cultural human ties figures in some other works
written by Ghosh. In Antique Land Ghosh presents certain archival
documents that has given him evidences of a continued friendship
between a Jewish merchant and his Indian slave.
The relation between Tridib and May is central to the thematic
concerns of the novel. Ghosh explains it in terms of the invisible links
between persons that can cross the realities of nationality, cultural and
racial differences. Tridib, while living within the four confines of his
room at Ballygunge, has always thought of living in an ideal world. He
wants to carry the limits of his mind ‘to other times and other places’
(144). When May returns from England as a stranger, he wants to meet
her in a ruin, far from friends and relatives, in a place without a past,
without history, free, really free, two people coming together with the
freedom of strangers.’(144). Thus freedom for Tridib is freedom from all
sorts of bondages constituted by history, nation, society, relatives, etc.
Tridib realizes this ideal freedom only through death. He gets killed
while savouring a helpless old man from being attacked by a frenzied
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crowd. That is the real moment when he is able to cross the boundary
between ‘oneself and one’s image in the mirror’. It is in this context that
the old sad story of Tristan-and-Iseult narrated by Snipe to Tridib about a
homeless man falling in love with a woman across the seas, assumes
significance. Ghosh explains his thesis on the creative potential of
interpersonal ties across cultural and national bounds by comparing and
contrasting Tridib’s and May’s relation with that of Ila’s and Nick’s.
Tridib and May represent his idealistic visions of cosmopolitanism, while
Ila and Nick stand as a counterpoint to it. Like Tridib, Ila is also a strong
advocate of cosmopolitan thoughts. She too wants to escape the
restrictive and limiting bondages of her nation and culture. ‘The bloody
culture of India’ has always acted as an obstacle to her sense of freedom
and free articulation of self. She asserts that nothing really important
happens in India except famines, riots and disasters. Affirming her
solidarity with the grand narratives of Western nationalism, she says that
it is only in English society that the ideal civic nationalism integrating all
the nationals into a common culture over race, religion and language,
does exist. Unfortunately, Ila’s grandiloquent statements on Western
nationalism belies her own experience of racial hatred. It is also a
historic truth that the very foundations of European nation-states are laid
on certain hierarchic notions of race, religion and language. Anyway, Ila,
who regards herself as a free woman, prefers to live in England to escape
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the cultural burden of Indian womanhood. Actually, Ila is not free both
in the restrictive upper class Bengali society where her roots lie and in the
easy-going lower-middle class London society with which she identifies
herself. The freedom Ila boasts of is actually a bondage, a deception of
self, a tacit expression of her submissiveness to the racially superior Nick.
In The Shadow Lines the character who represents the pragmatic
version of internationalism is May Price. The mystic and idealistic
internationalism of Tridib may appear too wavy before the practical
universalism of May. After Tridib’s death May has lead an ascetic life
engaging herself in many humanitarian works under the banner of the
global relief agencies like Amnesty and Oxfarm. For many years she has
blamed herself for Tridib’s death. Later she realizes the great message
behind his death i.e.,‘He gave himself up; it was a sacrifice. I know I
can’t understand it, I know I mustn’t try, for any real sacrifice is a
mystery’(251-252). This realization leaves her free. The narrator who
spends the night with May too feels grateful to her for ‘the glimpse she
had given me of a final redemptive mystery’ (252). Thus May represents
the ideal freedom which one should aspire in the world caught up in the
vortex of violence and murderous rampage. In this context Murari Prasad
observes,
The message of the novel underlines the need for friendly
ambience for co-existence and humanitarian ties across
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cultures independent of political managers. The “indivisible
sanity” of people beyond borders has the potential to ensure
warm and wholesome international amity and exorcise
divisive streaks and madness. (Prasad 94)
The central aspect of The Shadow Lines is a refusal to acknowledge
the nation-state as the organizing principle of Indian civilization and the
last word in the country’s political existence. This cynicism springs
mainly from the novelist’s despair at the riots and political nuances he has
repeatedly witnessed since childhood. Ghosh discusses such issues as has
been set forth in many other novels about the impending dangers of
ethnic nationalism and fundamentalism that sweep India. In The Circle of
Reason he says that ethnic hatred is something like an insidious disease.
Even the air we breathe in is contaminated by its viruses. He identifies
this deadly epidemic as an exclusively South Asian malady. The same
argument is restated in The Shadow Lines when the narrator remarks that
the fear of communal holocaust ‘sets apart the thousand million people
who inhabit the subcontinent from the rest of the world’ (204). In Antique
Land the narrator after his sojourn in an Egyptian village finally reaches
at the conclusion that the Middle East ‘was a world far gentler, far less
violent, very much more humane and innocent than mine’ (210).
Ultimately The Shadow Lines interrogates the viability of national
boundaries as a restricting and sanctioning agent of inter-personal and
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inter-communal relations between people. Basically there is a
generalization of partition as the only strategy employed in the making of
nations. Actually partition is the culmination of the divisive tendencies
within the nation. The various manifestations of sectarian thoughts such
as communalism, ethnocentrism, racism, etc. are the features that
characterises extremist nationalism. As suggested by Tom Nairn the
nation is basically ‘Janus-faced’, looking forward and backward. By
focusing only on the backward i.e., ethno-cultural jingoist nationalism,
Ghosh doesn’t acknowledge the progressive, civic and liberal
nationalism. For the East Bengalis, who have undergone the traumatic
experiences of two partitions, one in 1905 and the other in 1947, this may
be a reality. By generalizing violence Ghosh is downgrading the
liberatory spirit and the radical potential ingrained in nationalism. Instead
of exploring political realities here, the novelist deliberately evades
history. Ghosh doesn’t relate the partition of India and the subsequent
riots in Calcutta and Dhaka to their real roots in colonial period and the
wicked practice of divide and rule policy administered by the imperial
regime. Ghosh’s conviction of nationalism echoes Anthony Giddens’
observations on the same topic in his ground-breaking work The Nation
State and Violence. Giddens argues that state-power is wielded by ‘the
consolidation of centralized control of the means of violence’. (5).
Giddens asserts that the evolution of ‘nation-states’ from the ‘traditional
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states’ of Greece and Rome through the Renaissance absolutist state to
the modern nation-state, has collaborated with an officially sponsored
system of violence. This violence is not always physical or tangible, but
powerful discursive practices devised to circulate the dominant ideology
of the state. In Tagore’s The Home and the World (1915) we can also find
similar sorts of denunciation of extremist nationalism. Tagore eschews it
for its divisive potential in the multicultural and multi-religious social
spectrum of India. Where as he advocates the liberal humanist and civic
nationalism, Ghosh speaks of the possibility of a global living above all
sectarian and binding forces of nation.
To all intents and purposes, The Shadow Lines is a novel that
moves towards a global humanitarianism stemming freedom. Ghosh’s
thesis is that ‘freedom can’t be geo-politically defined or delimited’
(Bhaduri 223). Ghosh’s observations on nationalism stem from the
sensibilities, foibles and insecurities of the Bengali bhadralok. In her
essay ‘Investigating Middle class subjectivity in The shadow Lines, Babli
Gupta speaks about the inevitable limitations resulting from making ‘a
middle class transnational subjectivity’ as the exclusive agent for
exploring themes as vast as the life of a nation and nationalism (252). She
argues that Ghosh’s representation of the nation, especially from a middle
class perspective fails to depict the voices of the working classes and
peasants, the oppressed and the poor. All the major characters in the
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novel are from a middle class background having intercontinental
attachments and travel experiences. Ghosh’s thesis on internationalism
and cross-cultural attachments is applicable only to these people who
were but a minority in the nation. Their conviction of the nation of their
birth is entirely different from those people whose roots are firm in the
soil of their birth and its cultural milieu. The international thoughts that
Ghosh vehemently speaks about are beyond their social circle. In the
novel only Jethamoshai represents the attitude of this class who forms the
majority in the nation. His strong attachment to his place and his
unwillingness to accept a foreign living space is echoed in the following
passage.
Once you start moving you never stop. That’s what I told my
sons when they took the trains. I said: I don’t believe in this
India-Shindia. It’s all very well, you are going away now,
but suppose when you get there they decide to draw another
line somewhere! What will you do then! Where will you
move to! No one will ever have you anywhere. As for me, I
was born here, and I’ll die here. (216)
Here Jethamoshai voices out the feelings of those who consider it suicidal
to have one’s roots severed from the soil of one’s birth. As for that the
idea of nationalism envisioned by Ghosh in The Shadow Lines is limiting
in many ways. Rather than addressing the real inhabitants of the nation
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The Shadow Lines addresses only the international public and the upper
class people of India who float from one continent to another.
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