The bravery and courage of Indians during the First World War should not be forgotten
Hidden in the folds of history is the remarkable story of Indian South Africans who volunteered to join the Allied Forces in World War I. Many were one step out of indenture and were imbued with the spirit of defending the King, Empire and advancing the cause of freedom. Their experiences both on the battlefield and when they returned home was one of racism and non-recognition. In this article, Ashwin Desai, Professor of Sociology at the University of Johannesburg, and Goolam Vahed, Professor of History at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, rescue their experiences, so that their courage and bravery is not lost in the grand narratives of the war
… the long war throws its burning thorn about all men / caught in one grief / we share one wound / and cry one dialect of pain – Laurie Lee
THIS past Sunday marked 100 years since the signing of the Armistice, which signalled the end of World War I at 11am on the 11th day of the 11th month, in 1918.
In Europe and elsewhere, this moment was remembered with great fanfare. In South Africa the exploits of whites have being meticulously recorded, while Fred Khumalo, in his magnificent Dancing
the Death Drill, has rescued the life and deaths of Black Africans in the war. Indian South Africans’ contribution barely makes a footnote.
When World War I broke out, local Indians were keen to contribute. At a mass meeting of Indians on August 27, 1914, a resolution was passed that the “consideration of grievances (against the government’s racist policies) had given way to the performance of duty to the Empire”.
The meeting “declared its loyalty to the King-Emperor, and readiness to serve the Crown and co-operate with the government in defence of the country”.
It was only in September 1915, a year later, that the government asked for 250 Indians to serve in two bearer companies. The pay was a contentious issue for Indians, who were paid much less than their white counterparts. Indian Opinion’s protest that Indian South Africans “had adopted the European standard of living” and should be paid the same rate as their white counterparts, was in vain.
An army camp was constructed in Stamford Hill Road for Indian volunteers. They received training from Captain Dunning, who had spent 20 years in India, spoke five Indian languages and was a former Deputy Protector of Indian Immigrants. A reporter from Indian Opinion, who visited the camp, found the men in “good spirits”.
Training covered first aid, ambulance work, physical exercise in the mornings and drill work in the afternoons. When
Senator Marshall Campbell visited, at the “call of a whistle” by Major Briscoe
“the men quickly assembled on parade”.
They were wearing
“strong” black boots, khaki trousers, woollen jerseys and headgear adorned with the springbok badge.
An early indication that serving in the Corps meant little in terms of the racial status quo was given in November 1915 when Albert Christopher, leader of the Indian contingent, asked the mayor to allow Corps members in uniform on tram cars free of charge when travelling from the camp to the Town Hall because the “conditions of their service provides for nominal pay only”.
The city fathers resolved that “no such privilege be granted”. A public meeting was held on December 13, 1915, at the Town Hall to bid farewell to the first Bearer Corps. Shortly afterwards, a second company departed under Captain Murdock. A farewell banquet was held on January 27, 1916, at Rawat’s Theatre to bid farewell to that Corps. In all, around 700 Indians served during the war.
EAST AFRICAN SERVICE
Albert Christopher wrote that shortly after they reached East Africa the Corps was divided between Captain Briscoe and General Van de Venter, and that the column met General Smuts: “There the great and unostentatious man stood deep in thought. We were awed by his personality… Would the sight of us take the General back for a moment to South Africa and the passive resistance movement… He graciously acknowledged our salute as he passed by.”
Christopher presented Smuts with a petition complaining that
Indians received fewer rations and less pay than their white counterparts. Christopher touched on this subject in a private letter to Senator Marshall Campbell in September 1916: The subject of rations is the one subject next to the consideration of the enemy that takes up the time of the men. Rations fluctuate like the temperatures and sometimes it does fall as low or below zero but never does it rise to its zenith! It is at present a hopeless country for the men to forage for food but its very hopelessness drives the men to diligent search and alas! There returns a fortunate one with a handful of “ungu” – crushed mbela – or some other equal common article in the Union, and he thereupon becomes the cynosure of all eyes and – yes – the subject of many varied and minute enquiries. At present there lies between us and the enemy a patch of green luscious beans and (they) think of it and so do we!
Christopher wrote that although they were a “Bearer Corps” in name, they were in fact an “ambulance in its comprehensive sense”.
They carried the sick and wounded to hospital and ran a hospital, sometimes treating as many as 150 patients in a day.
Christopher was pleased with the positive race relations: “European South Africans are part of us as we are of them and the best of feelings prevails all round. And this we hope is but the bright beginnings of a happy future for all the children of the South African soil.”
This optimism would prove to be cruelly unfounded. While those who fought the war might have cried “one dialect of pain”, back on home soil, in peace time, the language of racism would cut deeply through the long 20th century. There were glowing reports on the work of both Corps. The South African cricket test wicketkeeper TA Ward stated that the hospital was very “ably” run.
He was pleased with the “conscientious manner” in which the Corps carried out their duty. “They did everything in their power to make the patient comfortable”; their “patriotism should not go unrewarded”.
Lieutenant-Colonel J De Vos wrote that “they have worthily upheld the traditions of the fighting stock they are descended from in India. It is an honour to have been associated with such men”.
Despite glowing testimonials the work of the Indian Corps received minimal official acknowledgement. In December 1916 Christopher received the Distinguished Conduct Medal, while LJ Singh, who was twice wounded in the thigh and had a bullet permanently lodged in his leg, received the Distinguished Service Medal. Many Indians were injured on duty and treated at Addington Hospital for their wounds or the effects of the tropical climate. Four Indians died in 1916, 10 in 1917 and three in 1918.
LOYALTY UNREWARDED:
At the conclusion of war Indians held special prayers “in accordance with the desire of our King”.
The motto of the fund-raising committee for “Our Day” celebrations on October 24, 1918, was “give ’til it hurts”.
The hopes of Indians that their contributions would be acknowledged were in vain. The city erected a Memorial with a Roll of Honour for white municipal employees killed during the war, which was unveiled on October 18, 1921.
In contrast, although Indians had formed a War Memorial Committee, acquired land at the corner of Alice Street and Warwick Avenue to erect a “worthy memorial” to members of the Indian Corps “who made supreme sacrifice in East Africa”, and a design was prepared by Clement Beneque, a well-known local artist, the memorial was never built because the city refused to provide funding.
The only “reward” Indians received was that the names of those who died in East Africa were included on the City War Memorial unveiled in March 1926.
Instead of treating Indians and Africans more equitably there was a revival of discriminatory legislation in the post-war period. When the Union Zulu Choir performed in aid of the League of Returned Soldiers and Sailors in August 1921, Indian and African soldiers were made to sit separately in the City Hall’s balcony.
Indian Opinion questioned: “Was this distinction made, we ask, when it was a question of fighting on the battlefield? Did the assistance of the darker races have the effect of polluting the white races during the war as it seems to have now in times of peace?”