14. About the Mappillas of Malabar

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[VED]

1. When feudal tongues clashed from opposing corners

2. If the military leadership had been local

3. On the experience akin to a wild beast’s bite

4. Introducing northern politicians as great souls

5. Freeing slaves provokes retaliation from slave owners

6. On the farce of satyagraha and more

7. The experience Congres faced in South Malabar

8. The new Hindu mantle spreading across British India

9. Demands of Mappila organisations in Malabar

10. Dragging British Malabar to servility under northern Indian leadership

11. Mohammedan leaders loyal to the English administration

12. Factionalism from the northern regions to British Malabar

13. Efforts to bring Malabar under the control of northerners

14. British Malabar turned into a breeding ground for renegades

15. What else to shout, other than: throw the foreign rule into the Arabian Sea?

16. The growth of Brahmanism which Brahmins could neither control nor restrain

17. The motivation to stay away from Indian public education

18. A social engineering project without insight

19. A song that disrupted some grand rhythm in the mind

20. To uplift those who joined the Mohammedan faith

21. What democracy has led India to

22. A Mohammedan organisation against the Muslim League

23. Those who clashed in the political arena

24. The emergence of the Mappilastan idea in Malabar

25. How northern petty leaders swayed Malabaris and more

26. The opportunity for Jinnah’s faction and Nehru’s faction to seize South Asia

27. A broader look at the Mappila Rebellion

28. How Islam stirred unrest in the local community

29. A shadow of remorse toward Mappilas in the Malabar Manual

30. Mohammedans who showed loyalty to English rule

31. The spiritual movement that creates fear that the lowly might become defiant

32. Those who experienced freedom did not willingly return to servitude

33. Lack of interest among those freed from servitude towards those still enslaved

34. Introduction to Saiyid Fazl Thangal

35. When a divine figure becomes a social leader

36. The collective spirit of personalities standing at 180° opposing poles

37. Contradictory and confusing information

38. Some matters related to land ownership

39. Divergence in social interests

40. Using feudal language word codes with reversed poles

41. Tensions in Malabar communities

42. Differences in perspective

43. Mr. Strange understood nothing

44. Those who are not Muhammad’s replicas

45. If language codes cannot accommodate emancipation

46. Caught and sustained in the flow of words

47. Historical study without regard for social realities

48. Flaws in the assessments of the highly informed

49. The rise of a feudal language Islam in society

50. The futility of social reform through revolutionary zeal

[VED]

From around the 1830s, many officials of the English administration in Malabar pondered deeply over why certain Mappilas in South Malabar harboured such intense animosity towards Hindu landlords (Namboodiris), their temple-dwelling kin, their overseer Nayars, and others.

Several officials, including Henry Valentine Conolly, the Malabar District Collector who was brutally murdered by some Mappilas, were deeply perplexed, unable to comprehend what was happening in society.

Quote from Malabar Manual:

The District Magistrate, Mr. Conolly, in reporting on the outrage and wholesale murders of January 4ᵗʰ-8ᵗʰ, suggested that a commission should be appointed “to report on the question of Mappilla disturbances generally.

I wish,” he stated, “for the utmost publicity. If any want of, or mistake in, management on my part has led in the slightest degree to these fearful evils (far more fearful in my time than they have ever been before), I am most desirous that a remedy be applied, whatever be the effect as regards my personal interests.

The English administration received information suggesting that the issues were tied to agricultural matters. However, the reality was far more complex. The most glaringly sinister factor in Malabar was the harsh feudal tongue itself.

Yet, this operated as an invisible thread woven through society. This invisible entity acted as a web, ensnaring everyone; as an unseen adhesive, binding those it touched, those who passed nearby, and those within its sight; as a repelling electric charge between individuals; and as a pervasive paste smeared across the community.

The fact that the English administration had no knowledge of such a potent and harsh entity was itself a great calamity for them.

In Malabar’s agricultural sphere, profoundly wicked practices had persisted for ages. As local royal families gradually surrendered their kingdoms to the English Company, the Company found itself unwittingly at the helm of numerous tragic affairs. Over time, it appeared as though the English were the owners and perpetrators of the barbaric and malevolent practices that had long existed in the region.

There is much to say on this, but I cannot delve into it now.

Bound to the land, unable to leave, men, women, and children lived their entire lives on small plots of farmland, much like cattle. Linguistic codes kept them pinned at the very bottom. These were the lowest of the low, the indentured slaves.

However, in the histories written by Indian academic intellectuals today, indentured slaves are portrayed as those whom the English took from British India and sold as slaves in other countries. Armed with hefty salaries and sky-high privileges, these intellectuals can write whatever they please, with little else to occupy them.

Above the aforementioned slaves were several societal tiers. The layers below the Nayars were akin to the strata beneath a modern-day police constable among the common populace. Though generally under government officials, there were significant disparities in status among these commoners.

They clashed, fought, and maintained deep enmity among themselves. The government officials above them viewed them as a collective of marionettes, observing and relishing their conflicts. These officials mediated their disputes, threw in new reasons for them to quarrel, and took pleasure in watching the ensuing brawls.

This populace could not unite, as divisive codes were embedded in the linguistic framework. It was easy for government employees to provoke and unleash these divisive codes.

In South Malabar, the English administration had some inkling of the existence of malicious codes within society, but they could not clearly discern what they were.

It is understood that some among them observed a phenomenon where a highly refined, respectable, and articulate individual could suddenly transform into the complete opposite.

A mere shift in address from Oru (highest he) to Ayaal (middle he/she) was enough to stir a breeze in that person’s demeanour. If it further shifted to Onu (lowest he), that breeze could turn into a gale, and then a whirlwind. The English administration remained entirely unaware of what was transpiring.

No matter how remarkable a personality, intellect, or cognitive ability a person of the lowest strata possessed, it was of no avail.

It is akin to the experience of a person with great character and mental calibre working as an auto driver in a city.

While school textbooks teach that all occupations are dignified, earning marks for such lessons does not reveal the reality of working in such a job.



If summoned to a police station for questioning, one is unlikely to hear the melodious words of Vayalar Ramavarma set to Devarajan’s enchanting tunes, as in old film songs. Instead, the police constables are more likely to hurl insults like, “What’s that, you filthy dog?” or “What’s that, you wretched fool?”

This is not just the experience of an auto driver but looms like a sword of Damocles over most ordinary people in India.

What occurred in South Malabar, termed the Mappila Rebellion, likely began with some from the lowest strata converting to Islam, possibly starting in the late 1700s.

As these individuals gradually grew into their natural charisma, it posed a problem for the feudal linguistic codes. When a labourer or labourer’s wife, meant to remain at the bottom, rose socially, it caused significant disruption in the linguistic codes.

When someone from the lowest strata rises, it is not always warm thoughts or feelings that emerge. Often, the humiliations and degradations of the past resound like a clarion call in their minds.

At the same time, the rise of the lowly creates panic and a drive to suppress the ascendant among the helplessly watching upper families.

The clash of these opposing mental states, created by feudal tongues, is what transpired in South Malabar.

In South Malabar, the families of Hindus, their allied temple-dwellers, and Nayars could not withstand the onslaught of the rebels. This was because, with the advent of English rule, the Nayars had shed their wild nature and begun living under written laws.

It seems the Nayars’ organisational prowess had also waned. Their once-sharp blades had grown dull. Their martial arts skills had been reduced to mere circus tricks. In the southern kingdoms, these became mere performances for future generations of Christians to amass wealth and fame through cinematic tales.

[VED]

Indian academic intellectuals claim that the English administration was responsible for all manner of wickedness in South Asia, a region steeped in profound malevolence for ages. However, blaming them alone is futile, as every political opportunist has echoed this narrative since time immemorial.

It seems that no political figure in British India or India possessed the charisma, knowledge, familiarity with English classical literature, integrity, and ability to remain free from the grip of feudal linguistic codes required to describe the English administration beyond this simplistic narrative.

In South Malabar, the rivalry between the newly emergent lower-strata Muslim faction and the Brahmanical social collective, which began around 1800, likely erupted into the Mappila Rebellion that swept the region around 1921.

The Mappilas’ inherited physical prowess, the unity and fraternal ideals of Islam, possible admixtures of Arab lineage, and spiritually exhilarating beliefs may have endowed the Mappila faction in Valluvanad with immense strength.

However, these individuals were not the pure Arabian-blooded, English gentlemen-like figures living along the Malabar coast, as William Logan noted in the Malabar Manual.

It seems unlikely that they were Namboodiris, temple-dwellers, Nayars, or converts to Islam.

Nor can it be said that their animosity towards the Brahmanical faction stemmed solely from the Qur’an’s injunctions against kafirs.

In truth, what occurred can be likened to a major military uprising. For ages, the lower strata—obedient to the commands of the elite, submissive, and devoid of any claim to charisma—raised the flag of rebellion, defiantly attacking their superiors.

This rebellion was fiercer than the 1857 Sepoy Mutiny around Delhi, dubbed the First Indian War of Independence in simplistic histories. Brahmanical homes and those aligned with them were attacked, Brahman temples were desecrated, and their sanctity violated.

Valluvanad had long been a headache for the Madras Presidency administration. It must be understood that the Madras Presidency may have been governed by a Congress ministry, and Valluvanad’s troubles were not about clashing with the English administration but rather a daily societal phenomenon resembling a military uprising.

For armed police or soldiers accustomed to peaceful drills and parades in their barracks, rushing to distant Vallunanad—a region difficult to access at the time—would hardly have been an exciting task.

Their mission was to protect the Brahmanical faction, who were driven by their own interests, not loyalty to the English administration.

Yet, the English administration was obligated to protect them, which positioned it as the enemy of the Mappilas. Consequently, in official Indian history, the Mappila rebels were transformed into freedom fighters.

Most mid-level officers in the police and military regiments deployed were likely locals, with only the highest ranks occupied by English or British officers. If today’s politicians and academic geniuses complain that senior officials were English, the reality needs further clarification.

Had senior officials also been locals, the outcome would have mirrored the days when Nayars dominated the lower strata. The Mappilas would have been slaughtered en masse.

Relying solely on isolated incidents, large or small, cannot reveal the root of societal issues. Invisible forces within the social structure were erupting. Ignoring these while writing history leaves future readers bewildered.



The image provided shows rebels arrested by the police at the time. None of them resemble English gentlemen of Arabian lineage.

[VED]

The Malabar Manual contains the following passage:

QUOTE:

Socially the cultivators are subjected (particularly if they are Hindus) to many humiliations and much tyrannical usage by their landlord.

This observation is understood to be William Logan’s own.

The “Hindus” Logan refers to here are not actually Hindus or Brahmins. It was a misconception of the English administration that the masses subjugated by Brahmins were Hindus.

Furthermore, landlords treated their enslaved underlings harshly. These slaves were regarded by all as barely human.

There is more to say. It can be inferred from the above quote that landlords treated those who converted to Islam and lived as cultivators with a degree of care.

To explain this social phenomenon today, consider this analogy: Imagine military officers treat soldiers harshly, but they are less severe with Muslim soldiers, fearing that Muslim soldiers could organise and retaliate.

Such an atmosphere in the military would create various tensions. Non-Muslim soldiers would resent this, and officers would struggle to enforce strict obedience from Muslim soldiers.

A similar atmosphere likely emerged in South Malabar at the time. However, this alone does not capture the full complexity of the social situation.

Cinematic tales, patriotic songs, and stories of nationalists cannot explain this society. These are often mere fabrications and follies, devoid of truth.



Listen to the song provided above. It is a prime example of how hollow words can vividly paint any illusion.

For instance, during my school days, there was a prevailing notion that India was a grand nation with a rich cultural heritage, strong family bonds, a peaceful society, and highly refined conversational manners.

This great nation was supposedly seized by the British, who plundered its treasures, sowed social anarchy, disrupted family ties, and introduced sexual immorality.

Yet, every aspect of this narrative is riddled with deliberate falsehoods.

In truth, sexual anarchy was rampant in Malabar’s family structures for ages. In many families, it was common for children born to women to lack even a nominal father.

Women under Brahmin dominance were compelled to display their nudity to social elites. However, this did not always cause distress among lower-strata women when viewed by elites. The issue arose when men even lower than them observed, a subtle manipulation of the local feudal tongue.

In British Malabar, it was the English administration that established clear marital laws, regulated the authority of families on both sides in marital bonds, fostered opposition to the matrilineal joint-family system, and eradicated polyandry.

This was not the work of self-styled social reform gurus who sprang up like mushrooms after yesterday’s rain.

At that time, there was no “India”; rather, Malabar comprised several kingdoms.

Despite this historical reality, those basking in the plague of democracy sweeping British Malabar remain ignorant of it. Even if they know, they must feign ignorance.

By parroting grand, baseless claims and aligning with politicians thriving in northern British India, many deceive their own people, ensnare them with temptations, and rise as public servants and local leaders through vote-bank politics.

Among these are traditional Hindus, newly minted Hindus, various Malabari Muslim communities, and others.

The plague of democracy leaves no one certain of whose story it will consume. Without careful moves, one risks being socially flattened.

When slavery and caste are mentioned, the immediate assumption is that those at the social apex lead lavish lives. The reality may be more nuanced.

Those at the top may be trapped within their own households, grappling with human pains, anxieties, fortunes, misfortunes, and fears of good and ill, as part of daily life.

Above all, the rise of their subordinates haunts them like a nightmare, even at noon. The carnivorous tongue within everyone ensures that falling prey to the sharp words of the lowly feels like a wild beast’s bite.

These points are raised as a prelude to how Malabar’s politicians began slipping British Malabar into the baseless notion of Indian nationalism.

In the radiant light of English rule, prominent and upper-caste individuals gained opportunities to start newspapers and magazines in British Malabar. In its pristine folly, the English administration saw these developments as triumphs of their governance.

Unaware of the region’s long-standing wretched state, many emerged as grand writers, public servants, and nationalists, wielding lofty claims to capture and be adored by the public’s hearts.

On one side, some shamelessly claim the Vedic culture—developed thousands of years ago by some people in South Asia’s northwest—as their own heritage, despite having nothing of their own.

Meanwhile, those on the Islamic side seem to have redefined Islam and the Prophet to fit their local social constraints and hierarchical tensions, unable to experience Islam beyond their traditional grievances.

This likely facilitated the seepage of the region’s inherent horrors into Islam, as well.

[VED]

In South Asia, the English administration, for the first time in history, introduced various freedoms in British India, enabling many to rise as prominent leaders.

Malabar began connecting with regions it had no historical ties to. This allowed divisive ideologies from the northern parts of the subcontinent to gradually take root in Malabar.

The influence of the Hindu Mahasabha, formed in the northern subcontinent to protect Hindu interests, began to be felt in British Malabar. This coincided with many lower-strata communities joining the Brahmanical fold.

Among Congress leaders in British Malabar, many newly adorned with Hindu identities reportedly showed allegiance to the Hindu Mahasabha. Several such Congress leaders allegedly attended the Hindu Conference in Tirunavaya in 1929.

Simultaneously, a grand nationalist sentiment was emerging in Malabar for the first time. Every region incorporated into the British-Indian map fell under this nationalist vision. Additionally, the idea that independent kingdoms adjacent to British India were part of this map could quickly take hold.

It was a time when prominent Malabari Muslims explored local and national political leadership opportunities. However, they too had to align with this new nationalist sentiment.

Some elite Muslim families embraced this nationalist ethos, while others distanced themselves from Congress members harbouring anti-Muslim sentiments.

Among Muslims, many rising to political leadership split into two distinct ideologies: one group maintained clear opposition to Congress’s Hindu faction, while others collaborated with them.

Theoretically, the issue appears ideological. However, a deeper look reveals more complexities.

Each individual was likely engaged in a subtle effort to safeguard their social status and value amid emerging social and political shifts.

Readers must understand that history often highlights only the words and deeds of those deemed leaders. Their relevance stems from the meetings and processions they organise, their press statements, and the newspapers and magazines they publish.

This was somewhat akin to today’s digital media. Back then, only those with wealth and influence could dedicate time to such activities. Today, thousands attempt the same through digital platforms, vying to capture public attention. Yet, even now, substantial wealth and influence are needed to succeed and sway public hearts, as experience shows.

However, countless people—hundreds or tens of thousands—existed outside this media sphere. Leaders, aspiring or established, aimed to draw these masses into their processions, meetings, and organisational memberships.

They could say or debate anything, but none could impart the transformative mental progress that unadulterated English could bring.

A longstanding practice in this subcontinent is to elevate a distant figure as a great personality, then claim to be their chosen follower, obedient servant, or authorised local representative. This certificate of endorsement grants immense power to become a local leader.

In Malabar, many seeking to exploit emerging political opportunities began invoking the names of northern British-Indian political leaders perceived as luminaries. Attending political, social, or communal meetings in the north was a significant social trump card. Even better, attending minor conferences in England was a golden opportunity, instantly transforming one into a great or saintly figure.

Some Muslim leaders accused Congress of having a Hindu bias, issuing statements to that effect. Others countered that Congress lacked such a bias and worked in harmony with it. The general public, uninvolved in these debates, focused on personal matters. Yet, joining a procession or mass meeting was thrilling, especially for youths with few other recreational outlets.

In 1931, an election was held for the Chairman of Calicut Municipality.

(Readers must note this occurred during the English rule, which Indian official history claims enslaved people across the land. Yet, democratic elections existed throughout British India, unlike in kingdoms just outside its borders.)

A Muslim candidate contested. A Congress councillor declared this candidate a hardcore communal Mappila, warning that if elected, the municipal office would be overrun with Mappilas.

Such thinking was not introduced by the English administration. Rather, it emerged when the plague of democracy interacted with the region’s inherent ailments, shaped by the intricate social atmosphere crafted by feudal tongues.

Those called Hindus then were largely not Hindus. Similarly, many Muslims belonged to diverse communities, each with its own selfish interests.

Every individual primarily aimed to elevate themselves and their kin to high status within feudal linguistic codes, while cunningly degrading others. There was no other way.

In 1939, elections were held for the Malabar District Board. A prominent Muslim Congress candidate contested from Wandoor farqa. During the campaign, a Congress faction known as the Chalappuram gang campaigned against him in Hindu-identified households, distributing notices urging people not to vote for him, branding him a hardcore Muslim communalist.

In a deeply primitive region, fragmented for ages and steeped in wretchedness, introducing democratic ideals through English linguistic codes did not uplift minds. Instead, grand English ideas were distorted by impulses embedded in feudal linguistic codes.

When individuals in a crowd governed by feudal tongues join a grand ideological umbrella, their communication, personality, and more undergo various changes—a phenomenon absent in English.

When a Mappila and a non-Mappila interact closely, no matter their friendship, local feudal tongue words erect walls, corridors, and barriers between them. This, too, was incomprehensible to the English.

[VED]

The English administration melded countless regions, communities, and kingdoms with no historical ties, creating what was locally known as British India. Many princely states adjacent to this India were loosely associated with the term. Aligning with areas under English rule was highly desirable.

Moreover, when conflicts arose, if one party was English, that fact was highlighted, while clashes with others were often downplayed.

In South Malabar, some Muslims clashed with the Brahmanical faction, but this was later framed as a confrontation between Mappilas and the English. Many preferred this depiction, showing little hesitation in admitting defeat to the English.

Feudal linguistic codes distinguish between losing to an IPS officer and triumphing over their servant.

The communities of the two Malabars differed, distinct from those in nearby Tamil, Kannada, and Travancore regions.

With the establishment of British India, these diverse groups began to intermingle.

The inability of English laws to recognise or respect local hierarchies likely felt ominous to many.

Aspiring political leaders likely sought issues to stir social unrest.

Claiming foreign rule was the easiest political rallying cry. Nearby regions, historically foreign, could no longer be viewed as such, as many were part of British India.

In princely states, the British-Indian Penal Code held no sway. Different administrative systems prevailed, and British-Indian courts and their decrees lacked authority. Caste considerations dominated, with no democratic elections or elected ministries.

Collaborating with such states required the British-Indian government to engage in months or even years of negotiations.

Slavery persisted in many princely states, sometimes legally, often informally.

Yet, most princely states relied on British-Indian officials or citizens to establish and manage their administration.

Princely royals often maintained friendly ties with British-Indian English officials, which may have alleviated the burden of projecting dominance over their own people. Being addressed by name by the English was fine, but the same from their own subjects threatened their status.

In this tangled social atmosphere, the boundaries of British India’s territory grew vague among educated people.

Those with some wealth sought to transcend local social constraints by pursuing local, national, or international leadership roles.

The mental growth fostered by English rule was surpassed by the promises of many leaders.

Leaders knew that speaking English to a servant and imparting English knowledge would spark significant mental growth in them.

Yet, no leader dared to do so. Local languages are coded such that the rise of the lowly weakens the elite.

In the northern regions, grand political games unfolded. Mohandas Gandhi, returning from international stages, rose prominently with three novel mantras: Ramarajya, Satyagraha, and Ahimsa.

Nehru shone alongside.

Neither seemed to be British-Indian citizens, a detail unnoticed then. Today, official Indian history scholars would dispute this.

Gandhi could have pursued democracy, English education, and slave emancipation in his own state but refrained, likely because he was the son of his state’s prime minister.

Initially, Gandhi held a high Congress position, but Congress later lost interest in him. Yet, ousting him became impossible, likely due to his robust social media-like network, rivaling Congress’s own.

Many in northern English officials’ households viewed Gandhi as a savior, seeing his non-violence as a moral code. They likely missed the ferocity in his local tongue.

When a few individuals assassinated English officials, Gandhi’s advocacy of non-violence deeply impressed the English. New arrivals from England seemed clueless, possibly believing the British military had brutally subdued this vast nation.

No one highlighted that millions, who lived like cattle as slaves on landlord estates for centuries, tasted freedom for the first time. Instead, media glorified a few who heroically shot English officials.

Freeing slaves provokes retaliation from slave owners—a simple truth.

[VED]

The English administration quietly achieved significant feats in British India without fanfare or war cries. It implemented schemes to educate the masses, enacted laws, built roads and pathways free of caste considerations, and constructed dams.

It established medical colleges for local youth, set up hospitals for the public, expanded the railway system, and extended postal services to nearby independent kingdoms.

And so much more.

These English efforts often turned villainous because, despite awareness of the region’s age-old hierarchical linguistic codes, they gave them little regard. A railway station open to all could be seen as a horrific scene by many.

English-proficient police inspectors were a terrifying phenomenon in society. For any lower-strata individual with some English knowledge to walk into a police station and converse fluently with an inspector without hesitation was a monumental event, capable of shaking the social foundation.

Today, this is scarcely possible in most police stations. Even among top IPS officers, English proficiency appears limited, as seen in their YouTube videos.

The historical reality of Malabar’s recent past is unknown to the masses. Yet, from birth, people were taught they were Hindus. Many from lower strata, with no ties to Brahmanical traditions, likely grew up hearing, reciting, and relishing these traditions.

They revel in Sanskrit verses, proudly proclaiming them as their ancestors’ legacy worldwide. In reality, these traditions have slipped from Brahmin hands.

How Vedic traditions reached Malabar’s Namboodiris remains unclear to me.

Many believe a grand freedom struggle occurred in British India. I asked CPS about this. Known for extolling his father’s greatness, Govindan (CPS’s father) would likely embellish tales of his freedom struggle efforts.

Despite the embellishments, the freedom struggle was a conspiracy by a small group of capitalists, landlords, and upper-caste elites to incite the masses. Claiming ordinary people yearned to escape English oversight for local landlord rule is sheer nonsense.

The irony of the Civil Disobedience Movement, Salt Satyagraha, and Non-Cooperation Movement—against an English administration that shattered the chains of countless lower-strata people—requires understanding who Gandhi was and who kept the masses as cattle or despised communities. Yet, such truths are rarely spoken.

Many prominent figures, including Mappilas and Christians, shy away from admitting their ancestors included Cherumars, Pulayas, or Pariahs.

Calling someone a “Thiyyan” (lowest he) can be derogatory in some places, but “Thiyyar” (highest he) is less so. Note the linguistic coding!

In Malabar, especially South Malabar, things seemed utterly chaotic.

Many Muslims in North Malabar likely favored English rule. What would replace it need not be spelled out.

Gandhi and Congress leaders competed, staging agitations every few years from 1919. Malabar’s Congress leaders likely strove to bring these to South Malabar. Mappilas, however, seemed largely indifferent, possibly because Congress leaders were local landlords, whom lower-strata Mappilas resented.

Some Congress leaders feared another Mappila Rebellion if they pushed too far. This fear reportedly led a prominent Congress leader to resign.

The farcical Salt Satyagraha found no support in South Malabar’s rebel zones. If the Mappila Rebellion was truly against English rule, shouldn’t South Malabar have been its strongest bastion?

When K.P.C.C took the decision to launch the CDM (Civil Disobedience Movement) campaign, there was great consternation among a significant minority within the Congress party. K. Madhavan Nair resigned from the Congress fearing another Mappila Rebellion. No wonder, the rebel zones in Malabar remained quiescent even at the height of Salt Satyagraha in 1932.

Some reportedly deemed the Salt Satyagraha pure buffoonery. Tales spread of Gandhi dipping his hands in ocean waves to produce salt.

The Salt Satyagraha march from Calicut to Payyannur reportedly included just one Muslim. How many others joined is unclear. For those with little else to do, it was a chance to display grand bravado on the streets.

Marchers from Payyannur to Guruvayur hesitated to enter Mappila Rebellion zones, fearing rough treatment. In Ernad, rumors spread that Mappilas would “deal with” their salt, terrifying the small group of marchers.

These bold figures, ready to shake the English Empire, feared Mappilas. Realizing a train-bound procession was safer, they boarded one in Farook, continuing to Tirur. Since railways were fully under English control, they could agitate safely inside.

Such farces reportedly unfolded in South Malabar.

Even in 1937, Ernad harbored anti-Congress sentiment. Prominent Mappilas there issued statements urging Mappilas not to join Congress.

No one was clear on what freedom meant or which freedom was sought.

Who Gandhi, appearing like a thunderbolt, truly was remained unclear.

To question what a foreigner was doing in British India required knowledge few possessed.

[VED]

For ages, this subcontinent has witnessed ceaseless conflicts—large and small—marked by invasions, betrayals, and more. Victory at any cost is paramount; defeat risks consigning even a great individual or family to the humiliating labels of “nee,” “eda,” “edi,” “avan,” or “aval” in the feudal linguistic code.

The terror hidden in these seemingly trivial words is incomprehensible to English newcomers from England.

They were the first to introduce the concept of fair play—honest dealings in conflicts or negotiations—to this subcontinent.

This truth is unlikely to be acknowledged by those in modern India who feign fervent patriotism. They might even argue, with supposed evidence, that such fair play was practiced in ancient times, as depicted in the Ramayana or Mahabharata.

About 25 years ago, when the Panchayati Raj was implemented, I recall CPS running as an independent candidate for Ward Member with the backing of a major revolutionary party. I overheard prominent panchayat leaders strategizing at his home.

One leader advised saying whatever it took to sway voters. CPS questioned, “Is it right to lie like that?”

Another leader offered a blunt explanation:

“Our goal is to get votes on election day. If voters regret it afterward, it doesn’t matter. Their thoughts or remorse are irrelevant. We must focus on winning, saying whatever it takes.”

English rule brought democracy, education, railways, hospitals, scientific knowledge, technology, and legal systems to a people speaking languages devoid of courtesy, philosophical depth, egalitarian communication, or codes of conduct.

Each initiative was meticulously implemented, rooted in honest and beneficial practices, as the English administration established these in the region.

Yet, most locals lacked English proficiency, and their beloved leaders ensured it stayed that way.

The feudal mindset boils down to suppressing the “lowly” (on) and granting servitude to the “elite” (or). High-value principles are not the goal.

Take exams, for instance. Everyone studies hard, but the aim is to pass. If there’s a way to pass without studying, that’s preferable.

Similarly, in IAS exams, the public rarely notices who passes. So, what does it matter how one succeeds?

Elections are the same. The goal is power. In a region where anything goes to achieve it, failing to secure power is disastrous.

Thus, how to win an election? Through fake votes, EVM tampering, fraudulent ballots, or rigging ballot boxes.

One side will win, and it’s safest if it’s ours.

This lengthy exposition illustrates two contrasting phenomena in Malabar.

The English administration pursued high-value initiatives, while local leaders sought loopholes, tricks, and excuses to undermine these efforts without violating their letter.

In South Malabar, Congress leaders struggled to gain a foothold. They made strenuous efforts to bring Mappilas under their sway, as winning elections required securing votes. This was a new challenge brought by English rule, among others.

To influence Mappilas, leaders could say anything in public gatherings to stir emotions and move hearts, swaying lower-strata Mappilas. This influence benefited even northern Congress leaders.

In Tellicherry, a Nair leader, mid-speech, remarked that Muslims in many places weren’t supporting Congress. The Muslims present took offense, likely due to his harsh feudal language, and demanded he stop. His speech ended abruptly.

At Ponnani, a prominent Congress MLA spoke of local poverty, dramatically claiming Mappila women and children were on the streets due to destitution. The local Mappilas were unmoved—furious, even. The MLA reportedly fled for his life.

Poverty existed in South Malabar society, but the English administration wasn’t to blame. Such poverty was encoded in feudal languages.

Moreover, the poverty among those who today claim to be Hindus—despite lacking social, familial, hereditary, or spiritual ties—differs from that among Muslims.

While feudal language creates social fractures among Muslims, they face less extreme poverty and insecurity. Muslim families within a mosque’s mahal can seek aid from mahal committees without stigma, unlike in feudal systems.

[VED]

Northern British India was rife with communalism and casteist ideologies. As Malabar was part of British India, these social maladies began seeping in from the north. The antics of prominent South Asian figures and movements also started infiltrating Malabar.

The grandest folly was Gandhi’s arrival and political ascent. Gandhi wasn’t a British-Indian citizen. His political gambit—demanding the English withdraw from British India—was akin to a Travancore native entering British India and making such a call.

Local Malabar newspapers and magazines incessantly invoked Gandhi’s name, using it to fuel various social clamors. These publications, often backed by local landlords, tirelessly proclaimed this northern leader a saintly figure.

That no one in Malabar questioned its connection to Ramarajya is astonishing.

Despite scant knowledge of British India, Malabar’s political writers likely began pontificating with grand erudition. They studied Vedic culture, ancient Bharat, Sanskrit mantras, Kalidasa’s works, Jayadeva’s Ashtapadi, and more, falsely believing these were their heritage. This required little effort.

Using such narratives, political players vied to become MLAs or members of District and Taluk Boards. The most gratifying claim during their clashes was that English rule enslaved the land’s people.

Yet, the English weren’t players in this political game. They oversaw it while striving to build a society rooted in English ideals.

Thus, they could only listen to statements against them. Explaining their side required the public to understand them, which demanded English proficiency sufficient to read English classics—rare in Malabar, limited to a few in places like Tellicherry.

Local landlords secured education grants from the English administration to establish vernacular schools, imposing social subservience on new generations. These students couldn’t directly engage with the English or grasp their initiatives’ intent.

In feudal languages, schools taught that the elite (or) are saintly and the lowly (on) are base. English classical literature held no more value than scrap paper to them.

A significant disruption caused by English rule was the emergence of Hinduism as a new social reality.

Traditionally, Hinduism and its practices were tied to Brahmanical heritage. Those under Brahmin dominance likely had their own shamanistic spiritualities or other divine beliefs.

Over centuries, lower strata may have adopted Brahmanical worship traits into their spirituality while remaining outside Brahmanical heritage.

Thus, Brahmanical communities were a widespread social reality in British India. Despite internal differences, shared spiritual traditions made Brahmanism a sprawling vine across the region.

By formally recording diverse communities under Brahmin dominance as Hindus, the English administration bolstered this vine’s vigor, strength, and reach. However, this diluted the Brahmanical heritage itself.

Traits typical of lower strata likely merged into this new Brahmanical religion.

This burgeoning social reality likely caused significant issues in British India’s social fabric.

Among Muslims, elite and subordinate communities likely existed under an Islamic identity.

Historically, elites of different spiritual movements maintained amicable ties, carefully managing their respective lower strata.

When those labeled Hindus coalesced under a pyramid-like identity, those under the Islamic banner could unite similarly. The Islamic group likely developed greater organizational strength, for reasons I won’t delve into now.

In northern British India, the perception grew that Congress opposed Muslim interests.

Muhammad Ali Jinnah, a Muslim Congress worker, spoke at the Indian National Congress in Nagpur in December 1920, with Gandhi on stage. This was when Gandhi’s influence was becoming inescapable.

With his own media network, support from some English officials, and the ability to address them by name, Gandhi was no small figure.

Gandhi may loom as a saintly figure in readers’ minds. Ordinary people couldn’t address top English officials by name, as 99.999999% of the administration comprised locals who suppressed the masses.

Jinnah was prominent, but his father was a wealthy merchant, not a prime minister of a neighboring state like Gandhi’s. This distinction mattered.

Jinnah, educated in England, likely had strong English proficiency.

During his speech, likely in English, Jinnah couldn’t avoid mentioning Gandhi.

Imagine a stage where everyone reverently calls someone “Balan Mash.” A non-follower speaks in English, addressing him as “Mr. Balan Nair” or “Mr. Balan.” What would ensue?

This is what happened. A large crowd in British India, unswayed by English influence and indoctrinated under local elites, revered figures like Gandhi as divine.

As an England-educated man, Jinnah lacked the subservient mindset of local lower strata toward Gandhi.

Jinnah referred to Gandhi as “Mr. Gandhi.” Many in the audience, Gandhi’s followers, erupted. Without these followers, Gandhi lacked relevance, likely explaining his limited presence where followers were few.

They demanded Jinnah address Gandhi as “Mahatma” or “Gandhiji.”

Around 2000, online accounts suggested Gandhi remained passive while his followers handled Jinnah, forcing him off the stage.

In later years, I noticed online narratives being whitewashed.

Recent accounts claim Gandhi calmed his followers, standing to declare he wasn’t a saint.

Gandhi’s sainthood wasn’t earned by tangible acts like aiding backward children’s English education. It rested on hollow wordplay.

The incident was minor, unknown to 99.9999999% of British India’s people. Such small meetings gained significance through the democracy English rule introduced.

Later, the British Labour Party’s decision to cede British India to local politicians amplified the historical weight of these trivial gatherings. Otherwise, why would meetings in Nagpur or Lucknow matter in British Malabar?

Jinnah joined the All-India Muslim League in 1913. The Nagpur incident likely deepened his alignment with it.

[VED]

The English term political pragmatism refers to a philosophy that determines value based on practical outcomes. It implies flexibility in principles, adapting policies for immediate gains. In electoral politics, this means saying or doing anything to secure votes and support, as people’s memories are short, and such shifts fade into oblivion.

When English rule introduced democracy and elections in Malabar, early campaigns didn’t initially focus on demanding freedom to hand British India to northern political leaders. By around 1945, however, Congress had adopted this demand as a strategic ploy. The extent of Gandhi’s connection to Congress is unclear, but his name had become so pervasive that Congress politicians dared not sideline it.

Malabar’s politicians seemed to develop a subservient attitude toward northern British India’s leaders.

Muslims in both South and North Malabar gradually became entangled in this political game, with differing political stances emerging between the two regions.

The perception that Congress was anti-Muslim, prevalent in northern British India, slowly seeped into Malabar alongside Congress’s influence.

The notion that English rule imposed this mindset is a folly found in official history today.

In reality, the English administration struggled to make clear decisions on many matters. The introduction of democracy, elections, assembly memberships, and local board positions awakened and inflamed long-dormant communal sentiments in the subcontinent.

While various factors fueled communal thinking, many politicians likely exploited these to amass followers.

As early as 1919, the English administration approved separate electorates for Muslims in local and provincial councils, ensuring a fixed percentage of seats. Without this, Muslims feared—reasonably so—lacking representation in these bodies.

At a time when most of British India’s populace supported English rule, introducing democracy divided people, stoking age-old mistrust and fears.

England’s academic “geniuses” failed to grasp that democracy would undermine the English administration’s lofty values and goals in British India.

Few seemed to consider what harm could come from a small number of English officials at the administration’s helm continuing to govern independently. For the subcontinent’s elite families, with time to debate and engage in rhetoric, democracy and elections felt like grand celebrations.

By 1920, vote-seeking based on religion had begun in Malabar.

A 1923 advertisement in Mathrubhumi for the Madras Legislative Assembly election, likely translated into English, addressed Malabar’s Muslims:

Since I have good command over English and Hindustani and thorough knowledge in Islam and its tenets, I am able to object to any move on the part of government that may turn to be tantamount to the interest of Islam. Hence, I request the Muslims, who are serious about the well-being of the Muslim community, to cast your vote in favor of me.

Before the Muslim League gained a foothold, the Muslim Aikya Sangham passed a resolution at its June 4, 1925, conference in Calicut, demanding separate electorates for Muslims in District and Taluk Boards, similar to the Madras Legislative Assembly.

Calicut’s Jamiyyathul Iqwan Sangam echoed this demand. The first Kerala Muslim Conference in Tellicherry in 1931 passed a similar resolution. Notably, the use of “Kerala” here may signal early attempts to link Malabar with Travancore.

Various external interests were at play in Malabar, many aiming to tie it to Travancore.

The Calicut Muslim Majlis Committee demanded something different: representation in the Madras Legislative Assembly proportional to Malabar’s Mappila population.

The Kerala Muslim Yuvajana Conference, a pro-Congress organization, passed a resolution in 1933 in Calicut, demanding that 10 of the 29 seats reserved for Muslims in the Madras Legislative Assembly be allocated to Malabar’s Mappilas.

[VED]

The English administration’s creation of British India effortlessly fostered a new nationalist sentiment of a unified Indian nation. The English themselves designed and provided the conditions for this idea to sprout, grow, and flourish.

Alongside this unprecedented nationalism in the subcontinent, a new communal mindset also spread. Whether nationalists had any alternative to such divisive, communal tactics to rally and control followers is unclear.

However, since local languages were feudal, leaders couldn’t simply unleash their followers. They had to instill subservience and loyalty to grand ideals or saintly figures to mobilize them. Without this, fostering the kind of individual growth envisioned in English would render leaders irrelevant.

Political leaders engaged in constant power struggles, backstabbing, and vying for followers, as they did back then.

If the perception in Malabar was that Mohandas Gandhi shone like a star alongside Congress in northern British India, Muslim movements in Malabar also saw prominent figures emerge from the north.

Among them, Muhammad Ali Jinnah stood tallest.

Today, Jinnah is seen as the father of an enemy nation, but back then, he wasn’t an outsider to British Malabar. Jinnah was likely a British-Indian citizen, unlike Mohandas Gandhi, who hailed from a foreign state—a point worth noting.

Other notable figures emerged for Malabar’s Muslim movements from northern British India.

One was Alla Baksh from Sindh, likely a provincial assembly member and premier in Sindh’s ministry.

Another was A.K. Fazlul Huq, a member of the Bengal Legislative Council, later the Central Legislative Assembly, and eventually Bengal’s premier. Bengal was a prominent region during English rule.

A side note: today, many prominent figures, from their palatial homes, blame English rule and Sir Winston Churchill for the Bengal Famine. Do they not know Bengal was governed by a local ministry then? This raises doubts in my mind, but I won’t delve into it now.

The figures mentioned, and others like them, were British-Indian citizens participating in English administrative systems.

Their names likely served Malabar’s Muslim movements as a counterweapon to Congress leaders’ incessant invocation of Gandhi.

While lower-strata Christian movements, Syriac Christians, and Ezhava leaders from Travancore sought to cloak Malabar in a Travancore identity, Congress leaders cunningly worked to place Malabar under northern Hindi politicians’ dominance.

As Malabar was drawn into this northern vortex of subservience, Muslim movements, believing they were countering Congress’s communalism, seemed to pull Malabar into the same whirlpool.

By then, English officers arriving from England likely perceived India as a singular nation with a unified culture.

In general, it seems to me that Islamic leaders had little opposition to English rule. However, as Congress leaders eyed opportunities to seize the country, Muslim leaders were naturally driven to seek an alternative system.

Yet, I cannot definitively comment on these matters, as things were immensely complex back then.

It’s hard to believe any clear-headed person would have wanted British India handed over to Congress leaders.

[VED]

In 1922, an organisation named the Aikya Sangam, or Unity Association, was reportedly formed as a Mohammedan reform organisation. Official history indicates that, in British India, various reform organisations aligned with the definition of Hinduism had emerged in many places. Similarly, when such an organisation was established for Mohammedans in British Malabar, it led to communal divisions within society.

It is claimed that the Aikya Sangam fostered a renewed sense of unity among Mohammedans. However, it does not appear to have succeeded in bridging the diverse factions within the Mohammedan community. This is because the Mohammedans at the time included people with different kinship ties, vastly distinct historical backgrounds, and significant cultural differences. These distinctions were greatly reinforced by regional feudal languages.
Nevertheless, the Aikya Sangam may have enabled some Mohammedans to socially counter the various distinct communities organised under the Hindu label.

Although those attempting to organise were part of the Islamic faith, which theoretically promotes social brotherhood and equality, they spoke the same regional feudal languages. Such feudal languages are inherently capable of creating the phenomenon of groupism everywhere.

Within the Aikya Sangam, differences of opinion and conflicts arose without much delay. In Malabar, a new sense of Indian nationalism, previously unseen in history, had taken hold. This was a nationalism rooted in the minds of those filled with a sense of inferiority, under the influence of the so-called "great Indians" from the north.

It was not, by any means, the kind of elevated mental state that could have arisen from the opportunities provided under the English administration.

Some leaders of the Aikya Sangam expressed sympathy for the Congress. They argued that Mohammedans did not need a separate political party and that the Congress alone was sufficient.

However, other leaders took the stance that a distinct political party for Mohammedans was necessary.

This is the recorded history.

Yet, when viewed through the lens of Malabar and the Malayalam language, it seems there may have been other reasons for this division.

Individuals who shone as leaders from the platform provided by the Congress might have feared losing their position if a new party emerged. At the same time, those in the opposing group likely saw the creation of a new party as a means to establish their own significant platform.

In these political divisions, it is understandable that many personal rivalries and competitive motives, unrecorded in history, may have operated behind the scenes. Congress supporters might have excessively invoked Gandhi’s name. However, even then, there were many in the northern regions—among politicians and social activists—who did not view Gandhi as a great soul.

What transpired in Malabar may simply be an example of how feudal languages foster groupism in any organisation. It need not necessarily be attributed to differing attitudes towards Gandhi, the spread of patriotic fervour, or anything else.

In 1934, at the final conference of the Aikya Sangam held in Cannanore, the organisation dissolved itself. It then merged into the Kerala Muslim Majlis, which had been established in 1931.

One leader of the Aikya Sangam reportedly stated:

As the aims and objectives of the Aikya Sangam and the Muslim Majlis were the same, the conference felt that there was no need for two separate organisations and passed a resolution to cease the activities of the Sangam.

However, there was also an argument that the Sangam should be merged into the Congress. As a result, the organisation effectively split into two.

Although the Muslim Majlis was an Islamic organisation, its leaders were reportedly loyal to the English administration. As Moidu Moulavi observed,

The Majlis was formed by some moderates and pro-British leaders who could not agree with the policies of the Congress.

It should also be noted that in parts of South Malabar, only ten to twelve years had passed since the Mappila Rebellion. This prompts reflection on the true value of claims made in cinematic narratives and Indian official history.

[VED]

The English colonial history had certain distinctive features. The English colonial administration accomplished many things worldwide that no other system, whether local or colonial, had done.

One such feature was this: in regions under English administration, people were taught English. Even leaders in the most backward societies knew this was something to avoid. Many regions in Asia and Africa were feudal language areas. Moreover, some countries in continental Europe also suffered from this linguistic affliction.

In societies where administrative and social power was held by individuals at various levels, terms like "Sir," "Saab," "Memsahib," "Aap," or "Ungal" were used to denote status, while the common people, relegated to varying levels of inferiority from "Ningal" (polite you) to "Inhi" or "Nee" (lowest you), lived in degraded conditions.

In such societies, with long-standing social, political, and administrative hierarchies, introducing the English language enabled those at the bottom to compete mentally and otherwise with those placed at the pinnacle. This experience spread throughout society.

This dangerous act was carried out by English colonial movements everywhere. The peril in this action was that the descendants of those who rose from the bottom did not recognise the benefits the English movement had bestowed upon their ancestors. Moreover, no one informed these descendants that their forefathers were once in a great social pit, as it was a matter of shame.

Everyone clung to notions of grand, ancient traditions.

At the same time, the English colonial movement continuously endeavoured to implement significant facilities, social equality principles, legal frameworks, and more in the regions they governed.

However, the languages in these regions prevented such efforts from taking root. Consequently, silent efforts were made in every corner of society to uproot and discard these initiatives entirely.

Instead, those defined as great or small in the local language would never allow any individual or movement to place them on an equal footing.

Yet, while carrying out these subversive activities, they cloaked them in the garb of patriotism, traditional glory, ancient spirituality, and the like, proclaiming they were overthrowing the humane English administrative laws to protect these values.

Nevertheless, a significant percentage of people in English-administered regions preferred the English administration itself. Only interested parties desired a local, petty regime.

However, the English administration faced opposition and ideological challenges not in the colonial regions but in Britain itself. There, naive left-wing thinkers and misguided academics constantly worked to undermine the English colonial administration.

For centuries, people who suffered under the merciless rule of local petty kings experienced the enlightened and superior touch of the English administration for the first time. Only the utterly misguided would wish to tear this great experience apart rather than preserve it.

Yet, this tearing apart was precisely what Britain’s naive left-wing thinkers attempted.

To this end, they sought to bring democracy to British India, stirring up noise and chaos in every corner of the subcontinent. Whether anyone considered what personal development could arise from turning the nation into a mess is unknown.

In his 1925 book Mein Kampf, Adolf Hitler mentions South Asian elites’ children who came to European universities for education. Many of them held grand discussions and meetings at their colleges, demanding that England relinquish India.

These individuals projected themselves as representatives of South Asian people in Europe. However, Hitler questions in his book whether anyone had granted them the authority or right to represent India.

But there were not a few Germans, especially in the nationalist camp, who let themselves be dazzled by such inflated Orientals and readily accepted any old Indian or ... student from God knows where, as a ‘representative’ of India or ...

In 1931, the All Kerala Muslim Conference was held in Tellicherry, where the Muslim Majlis, a political movement, was established. Before proceeding, note the presence of the word “Kerala.” Today, this may not seem significant, but I believe it reflects the success of covert operations by Travancore loyalists in British Malabar.

Although the conference bore the name “Kerala,” it is understood that the representatives who attended were from South and North Malabar’s Mohammedan communities. It seems unlikely that the movement had significant ties with Travancore’s elites at the time, though this is not certain. It cannot be definitively stated that Travancore’s prominent families were absent, but their participation seems improbable.

It is said that a representative from every Mahal attended this conference. However, it does not appear that Travancore’s Mahals were included. Despite the name “Kerala,” the matters discussed were entirely related to British Malabar.

Moreover, most of the Muslim Majlis’s official office-bearers were reportedly from prominent Mohammedan families of North Malabar, many of whom had a clear affinity for the English administration.

In Tellicherry, a committee of 48 councillors was formed, and a Muslim Educational Board was initiated.

The second conference of the Muslim Majlis was held in Calicut in 1933. Some younger members attempted to break away from the control of North Malabar’s prominent families and organised a Young Muslim Conference.

Those who had tried to merge the Majlis with the Congress supported this Young Muslim Conference. However, the general sentiment within the Majlis was reportedly anti-Congress. At the 1937 Tellicherry conference, Arakkal Ali Raja, the Majlis’s president, criticised efforts to bring the movement under Congress’s fold.

Not only the Congress but also Gandhi was viewed very negatively by many, not just in British India but also in nearby states like Travancore.

At the 1937 conference, a formal decision was made to align the Majlis with the All India Muslim League. However, those supporting the Congress did not join this move, meaning the Majlis effectively split into two factions, one of which merged into the All India Muslim League.

The dilemma was whether to join one of the movements that emerged in British India. When British Malabar was linked to North India, it did not result in unity but in division.

[VED]

It is understood that there were certain differences in the population between North Malabar and South Malabar. It appears that those in the north harboured a sense of superiority over those in the south. This attitude was particularly evident among the Nairs and the Thiyya community.

The exact reason for this mindset is unclear. However, generally speaking, those in the north followed the matrilineal family system. This seems to have been prevalent among Mohammedans in North Malabar as well. It is possible that some Nair, Thiyya, and Mohammedan families in North Malabar had Greek ancestry mixed in.

It can be speculated that the matrilineal family system was a common strategy to prevent family wealth from being lost through men of Greek origin, who arrived from the sea without any land or property.

In contrast, most families in South Malabar appear to have followed the patrilineal family system.

It can be inferred that when Mohammedans from North and South Malabar came together in a single organisation, various issues would arise.

A significant shortcoming of the English administration was its inability to categorise or define people in their native language based on varying levels of status.

Consequently, the social changes they attempted to impose through their laws often clashed with the immovable rock of feudal languages, resulting in at least some degree of transformation.

In general, it must be understood that the English could neither comprehend nor support the matrilineal family system. They likely viewed a family system that gave no value to the father with a degree of disdain.

It has already been mentioned that the second conference of the Muslim Majlis was held in Calicut. It was also noted that some young members, challenging the prominent Mohammedan families of North Malabar, attempted to create their own movement, the Calicut Young Muslim Association. It should be remembered that Calicut is in South Malabar.

It is understood that Mohammedans in South Malabar attempted to pass a resolution at this conference opposing the matrilineal system of North Malabar’s Mohammedans. This reportedly did not sit well with the Mohammedans of North Malabar.

In 1936, the anti-Congress faction of the Muslim Majlis accepted the leadership of the All India Muslim League. In 1937, the Muslim Majlis formally joined the All India Muslim League.

Members sympathetic to the Congress left the organisation.

Meanwhile, it was the English administration that persistently worked to establish democracy in Malabar, hoping to enable people for self-governance.

In 1934, elections were held for the Central Assembly. A Mohammedan Congress candidate lost to a Muslim League sympathiser in the South Canara constituency.

This was seen as a victory for the prominent Mohammedan families of North Malabar. At that time, the All India Muslim League had not yet been formally established in Malabar.

It appears that the periodical Chandrika was launched through the efforts of the Muslim Club of Tellicherry. This publication later became a mouthpiece for the All India Muslim League.

It seems that this publication significantly helped bring Mappilas closer to the All India Muslim League.

With the implementation of democracy in British Malabar, it is not difficult to understand that Malabar’s traditional identity was eroded. Congress members planned to pull the people of British Malabar under the control of certain northern politicians, who were generally believed to hold a superior Hindu identity at the time.

At the same time, Mohammedan activists in British Malabar sought to align Mappilas with a Mohammedan movement in the northern regions that was clashing with those of the superior Hindu identity.

In recorded history, Malabar was never under the control of northerners. Yet, through the arbitrary use of democratic politics, some sought to dismantle the unparalleled excellence of the English administration.

With this folly, Malabar was being dragged under the control of Hindi-speaking northerners. A populace, aware only of the sky above and the earth below, rejoiced in this. Many believed this represented some grand form of freedom.

In 1935, some Sahibs, Saits, Hajis, and others gathered in Tellicherry to establish the first unit of the All India Muslim League in Malabar. Subsequently, another Maulavi, along with other Hajis and others, set up another unit in Tirurangadi.

The realisation that this was the next step to prevent the loss of social leadership likely spread. The following year, in 1936, a Muslim League Committee was established in Calicut. A prominent individual travelled across Malabar, striving to set up Muslim League units in every direction.

Even the Mughal dynasty in Delhi never had the experience of local people from South Asia’s southern regions venturing out to conquer those areas.

The English administration united South Asia, creating railways and other facilities. Standing atop this great infrastructure, a group from the north, with their farcical satyagrahas and other antics, attempted to stir chaos across the land. Thus, some ran about trying to bring the entire subcontinent under the control of northern leaders.

Sensing the great danger in these developments, Mohammedans in the northern regions organised. In a race to outdo one another, many competed to bring Malabar under their influence.

Amidst all this, a large section of people in British India lived with grand dreams of peace in their hearts, untouched by these conflicts.

[VED]

Not only in British Malabar but across British India, the English administration existed in name only. Most government officials were British-Indian citizens. Some individuals from neighbouring states may have also secured government positions in British India. It seems there was no rule restricting government service in British India to its citizens alone.

Even in the ICS (Imperial Civil Service, or Indian Civil Service), a policy emerged in Britain to increasingly appoint South Asians. By the end, over 50% of ICS officers were South Asians.

These changes created opportunities to significantly undermine the lofty standards of the English administration. Ordinary people’s loyalty and affection for the English administration stemmed from the belief that it was truly English. However, the distressing sight was of local elites and non-elites gradually regaining control across all sectors of governance.

The realisation that South Asians, who spoke feudal languages and were thus entirely distinct from the English, would dawn upon British India’s common people. Yet, they were powerless. Prominent societal figures travelled to England and elsewhere, unilaterally proclaiming themselves leaders of Indians. The common person could only listen.

The strongest evidence that English administration was becoming nominal was the introduction of democracy and elections, where the English presence was virtually absent. In this environment, local social elites had to act and plan with great caution.

Many local elites, aligned with a superior Hindu identity, initially joined the Congress to maintain social leadership. When Congress became overcrowded with leaders, some turned to communism. These groups loudly championed people’s freedom and personal upliftment. However, they ensured the English language—the most empowering tool for this—was kept out of reach of the masses.

Instead, they wielded the same linguistic weapon that Mohandas Gandhi from Porbandar had successfully used in British India. Namely: “I am ‘Oru,’ my wife is ‘Oru’; you are ‘Onu,’ your wife is ‘Olu.’ You must address me and my wife as ‘Ningal.’ I and my wife will address you and your wife as ‘Inhi.’”

This is a profoundly powerful coding system, described in a few words above. It ensnares any common person in a web of deference and affection. They would not even dare to sit before such a revolutionary rhetorician leader.

If this was the case among those aligned with a Hindu identity, a similar frenzy likely began among Mohammedan elites.

Henceforth, political platforms would not feature Englishmen but local individuals. Matters required careful scrutiny before proceeding, as British Malabar’s Mohammedans comprised diverse interest groups and communities. Islam was the unifying thread holding them together. Without this identity, each group would be distinct.

Democracy was poised to unleash an experience in this district akin to a volcano erupting from the ocean depths and soaring to the skies. Mohammedan elites likely recognised this. To participate in the democratic process, social and communal leadership had to be preserved. Otherwise, as England’s fools envisioned, elevating the socially inferior would turn society and community into chaos.

In short, the democracy unleashed by England’s fools led to an unbelievable development where Malabar’s elites competed to bring Malabar under the control of northern politicians. What makes this unbelievable is that, even in the 1890s, no one could have imagined—whether in daydreams or nightmares—that Malabar would be offered to northerners. Such was the transformation democracy brought to Malabar.

Looking back, the English East India Company united Malabar’s petty kingdoms, forming a district within the Madras Presidency. Subsequently, the British administration devised a plan to hand this district over to Hindi-speaking northerners.

In December 1937, with Arakkal Ali Raja as president and Abdul Sathar Sait as general secretary, the District Muslim League Committee was formed in Tellicherry. Had they not done this, someone else would have. A large section of South Malabar’s Mohammedans were descendants of lower communities who had converted to Islam locally, mixed with Arab lineage, and were not from prominent families.

Culturally, these groups were likely distinct from both elite and non-elite Mohammedans of North Malabar. North Malabar’s elite Mohammedan families may have had little cultural or linguistic difference with the English, particularly in language codes. However, they likely viewed the local language’s “Inhi,” “Onu,” “Olu,” and casual name-calling by lower Mohammedans with great apprehension.

There seems to have been an unwritten—or perhaps written—rule in local Islam prohibiting lower Mohammedans from using such terms with elite Mohammedan families.

A 1937 government report indicates three distinct political ideologies among Malabar’s Mohammedans.

The first group unconditionally aligned with the Congress. The second pledged loyalty to Jinnah and the Muslim League. The third comprised Mohammedans from Eranad and Valluvanad in South Malabar, who were loyal neither to the Congress nor the Muslim League. Instead, a sentiment to form a third party had taken hold in those areas.

Both the Congress and the Muslim League planned to bring this third group under their control. It would not be far-fetched to consider members of these two parties as renegades, subservient to northerners in South Asia. Whether the third group in Valluvanad and Eranad aimed to resist handing Malabar to northerners is unclear. Historical sentiments often lack grand ideological underpinnings.

[VED]

In the 1930s, both the Congress and the Muslim League were vying for the support of Malabar’s Mohammedans. While we may speak of British India or British Malabar, it was likely clear to many locals that the English administration had adopted a self-destructive policy. Such monumental folly seems unparalleled in world history among those in political leadership.

In South Africa, a small English force, with the support of locals, defeated the larger Dutch forces to maintain power. However, once the English administration strengthened in South Africa, their habitual folly—democracy—was implemented. This handed power back to the defeated Dutch. One might ask why they bothered winning the war. Yet, for the English, the triumph of their democratic system was paramount.

It must be noted that South Africa’s black locals were not included in the democratic process at that time. Further discussion of South Africa is beyond the scope here.

In retrospect, it seems Malabar’s people were swept toward the Hindi-speaking northerners like a torrential flood.

For individuals socially and mentally enslaved by feudal language codes, the notion that marking a piece of paper in a booth after a few years grants grand freedom or political power reflects their mental and intellectual shallowness.

The English, striving to establish a You-You social bond, were severed from, and people yearned to return to the hierarchical Aang-Nee relationship. This must be seen as an act of intellectual and imaginative bankruptcy. Yet, there is a clear reason for the people’s folly: the misguided in England bear responsibility.

In February 1937, elections for the Provincial Legislative Assembly took place. Muslim League candidates in Calicut and Kurumbranad lost to Mohammedan Congress candidates. A Muslim League leader from British India’s northern regions reportedly campaigned in these elections.

With democracy’s arrival in British India, a trend emerged where economically powerful individuals from various regions sought leadership platforms. Many used anti-English rhetoric.

They could have done much for their people’s welfare. However, their desire was not to uplift the socially inferior. Instead, the emerging realisation was that the chaotic spread of democracy would upend society.

Through protests, attending conferences in England and Europe, and gaining prominence, individuals could hold their ground in the turbulent democratic wave, maintaining their status and identity.

In other words, the so-called freedom struggle that emerged in British India after 1900, often described as a storm in a teacup, was merely a series of antics by South Asia’s elites to elevate their social standing in the democratic tempest. It was not a movement where ordinary people strove to break their chains of servitude.

Though the Muslim League lost in the aforementioned elections, it soon gained the support of most Mohammedans in Malabar. Not long before, South Malabar’s Mappilas and North Malabar’s elite Mohammedan families likely shared few social or economic interests.

However, the Muslim League’s efforts fostered a sense of Muslim brotherhood among South Malabar’s Mappilas. This seems to have shifted diverse Mohammedan communities, with varying social and economic interests, toward a unified ideological understanding of being one group.

Recall that the first president of the Malabar District Muslim League was Arakkal Ali Raja. The purpose of forming the Muslim League in Malabar was clearly articulated by the organisation’s president:

It is a religious duty for Muslims to be united. This unity under an organisation is not intended to oppress anybody or to create tension in society. It is for protecting and propagating the faith of Islam.

Despite these words, this unleashed democracy likely bred tension and fear in society.

What to tell the public politically? To win votes, words had to be carefully chosen. Muslim votes were needed for non-Muslim candidates, and non-Muslim votes for Muslim candidates.

Thus, the target of fiery slogans and protests was the English administration. Mohandas Gandhi from Porbandar had almost monopolised this space, attempting to claim the spotlight.

It seems no one had the courage to ask the Porbandar native, “Friend, isn’t it enough to bring democracy and emancipation to Porbandar before coming to British India to perform circus acts?” This was likely because, in feudal languages, the ultra-wealthy are inherently deemed divine.

While many Muslim League leaders may not have lacked affection for the English administration, politically, what slogan could they shout on the streets other than “Foreign rule into the Arabian Sea”?

Just a few decades earlier, even regions near Malabar were considered foreign. Many may have been unaware of this. The notion that Hindi rule was native was spreading in Malabar. Both Congress and Muslim League members likely competed to promote this idea.

[VED]

In an era where Indian academic employees, amassing exorbitant salaries and numerous unearned privileges, point out the alleged thousand faults of the English administration in South Asia, I will seize this opportunity to clarify what actually transpired during that time.

Let us examine some decisions made at the first District Muslim League Council held in Tellicherry in 1937:

1. A request was made to the Madras government and the Malabar District Board not to discontinue special schools established for Mohammedans. It was argued that closing such schools would slow the educational progress of Malabar’s Mohammedans.

2. Another request was to establish a special electoral system for Mohammedans in local boards and municipalities, to be enshrined in the Madras Local Boards Act and the Madras District Municipalities Act.

3. A further demand was to abandon the plan to make the poem Vande Mataram the national anthem of British India.

Let me address these three points. First, it must be noted that the English administration was not arbitrary. Everyone, including the English administration, was subject to written laws and regulations in British India. It was not a system where the government could seize whatever it wanted. Such a governance system is unlikely to have existed elsewhere in the recorded history of this subcontinent.

One of the many challenges the English administration faced was the communal rivalries spreading across the subcontinent. These were not driven by spiritual ideologies but by a new social environment where anyone could aspire to leadership, fueling such proliferation.

Regardless of educational or intellectual advancements, the first instinct was to establish oneself as a societal guru. To be a guru, disciples were essential. The English administration likely did not fully grasp the personal relationship codes inherent in the guru-disciple dynamic, which were as follows:

The guru is “Aang” (you, respectful), and the disciple is “Nee” (you, inferior). In Hindi, this is “Aap-Tu.” Under the benign shade of English administration, anyone could become a guru without needing a high-caste identity.

As this phenomenon unfolded in British India, its ripples were felt in neighbouring independent states. Many sought to build such guru-disciple organisational strength by aligning with various branches of Brahmanism.

The reality is that many such movements across South Asia gained protection under the English administration. Without this, the Brahmins’ supervisory classes would have crushed this encroachment into Brahmanism with force.

However, the English administration, lacking insight into social realities, remained unaware of these insidious societal infiltrations. Consequently, Brahmins could only watch as their traditional privileges were usurped.

Thus, Brahmanism experienced a massive growth that Brahmins could neither control nor restrain.

Amid the myriad temptations, pulls, and influences constantly emerging in society, retaining disciples was no easy task. Many likely chose different paths. Speaking at a conference in English nations was a privilege reserved for the ultra-wealthy.

However, Brahmins were barred from overseas travel due to religious prohibitions.

English language proficiency became a powerful weapon for many. English classical literature is replete with profound insights and grand statements about human life. Reading it could transform one’s intellectual awakening.

Indian political leaders collecting lofty phrases to pass off as their own did not require much encouragement from guru figures.

Disciples lacking English proficiency, enthralled by their guru’s wisdom and grand rhetoric, might swear no one else possessed such worldly knowledge.

A similar phenomenon likely occurred among Mohammedans. South Asia’s Mohammedans comprised diverse communities, some of whom had little interest in aligning too closely with others.

For example, Pathans in northwest South Asia were Mohammedans, while Bengalis in the east were distinctly different.

When these two regions were united as Pakistan’s provinces, it reportedly took little effort for India’s then-Prime Minister to incite conflict between them.

Similarly, Shia-Sunni conflicts existed in South Asia’s northern regions. Additionally, conversions of lower communities to Islam likely introduced further divisions among Mohammedans.

It must be remembered that feudal languages encode hierarchy and inferiority in individuals, which is nearly impossible to erase. Thus, Islam’s theoretical principles of human brotherhood and social equality likely succumbed to the societal fractures imposed by local language codes.

This may have prompted many Mohammedans to seek social leadership roles as new societal freedoms emerged. These groups likely relied on religious slogans and communal sentiments to pave their path to leadership.

When the English administration introduced egalitarian ideas through the English language into this social environment, they were met with fragmented social relationships.

Whatever was gained was used to fuel personal leadership ambitions rather than uplift others. In feudal languages, uplifting another means turning “avan” (he, inferior) into “adheham” (he, respectful). Once “avan” becomes “adheham,” the new “adheham” will likely first aim to reduce the original “adheham” to “avan.” This is almost certain.

Why invite trouble by empowering others?

In feudal language societies, individuals live at various heights within a vast societal pit. This reality persists as a constant, nightmarish threat.

[VED]

In the previous section, three decisions made at the first District Muslim League Council held in Tellicherry in 1937 were highlighted. These were requests directed at the English administration. It must be clearly understood that these requests were made to the English administration of that time, not the Hindi administration of today.

It is unclear whether anyone has realised that what is called "independence" today essentially meant replacing English rule with Hindi rule.

Let’s examine the first request:

1. A request was made to the Madras government and the Malabar District Board not to discontinue special schools established for Mohammedans. It was stated that closing such schools would hinder the educational progress of Malabar’s Mohammedans. END

The question of why South Asian societies were so distinctly interconnected was a subject of much reflection for many English and British individuals living in British India and its neighbouring states.

Some may have assumed this was due to widespread illiteracy. However, as this writer clearly understands, that is not the true reality.

As early as 1813, during the English Company’s rule in South Asia, the British Parliament issued directives related to education.

A sum is set apart “for the revival and promotion of literature and the encouragement of the learned natives of India, and for the introduction and promotion of a knowledge of the sciences among the inhabitants of the British territories.

The claim that education drives social progress requires deep consideration, which we will not delve into here. However, it must be noted that some kings ruling in this subcontinent at that time were illiterate. Yet, it does not seem accurate to assert that this made them weaker than their literate counterparts.

To implement the British Parliament’s directive, a Committee of Public Instruction was established. However, the question of what kind of education should be provided to British India’s citizens remained a significant challenge.

From an English perspective, there were millions of people with little to no knowledge or education, many of whom were enslaved in various ways.

QUOTE from Minutes on Indian Education (Macaulay):

It is argued, or rather taken for granted, that by literature, the Parliament can have meant only Arabic and Sanscrit literature, that they never would have given the honorable appellation of “a learned native” a native who was familiar with the poetry of Milton, the Metaphysics of Locke, and the Physics of Newton; but that they meant to designate by that name only such persons as might have studied in the sacred books of the Hindoos all the uses of cusa-grass, and all the mysteries of absorption into the Deity.

In reality, it seems that the vast majority of people in this subcontinent had little ancestral connection to these literary traditions. Moreover, records indicate that some who pursued such education later claimed it wasted their time and even demanded compensation from the government.

It is understood that local social elites decided education should be in the language that preserved their dominance. This context must be kept in mind.

As mentioned earlier, when schools in places like Tellicherry began filling with children from the matrilineal Thiyya community, higher groups like Nairs and above stayed away. This should not be solely attributed to caste-based disdain.

It is a fact that when children form friendships with others in school, they become entangled in complex social networks. Parents maintaining social superiority naturally worry about the mental changes their children might undergo and the influences—positive or negative—they might adopt or impart.

This issue is universal. For example, in the United States, continental European descendants historically preferred their children to study with English children but not with African Negro children. Conversely, Negro families were less interested in having their children study with their own community’s children and preferred schools with white children. Meanwhile, the English preferred their children to study with their own kind. This is quickly labelled as English racial discrimination, but the mental disposition of the other two groups is rarely considered flawed.

Malabar’s Mohammedans may have been reluctant to educate their children alongside other communities’ children. However, it must be noted that Malabar’s Mohammedans were not a monolithic group. They likely recognised internal hierarchies and differences among themselves. Even so, Islam’s ability to suppress such divisions raises the question of whether this is a positive trait or a mistaken stance, which requires further reflection.

Islam may strive to erase the varying degrees of hierarchy among Mohammedans. However, the local Mohammedans engaging in this effort were neither elite Arabs nor English but speakers of local feudal languages.

In such a complex social environment, an immature local Islam faced the challenge of integrating its children with those of numerous fragmented communities.

In reality, some Mohammedans with Arab lineage reportedly still hesitate to enrol their children in Malayalam-medium schools.

When the English administration attempted to implement public education in British India, a key challenge was the reluctance of Mohammedans to educate their children alongside other communities. How the English interpreted this is unclear.

However, it is worth considering whether the English would have enrolled their own children in British India’s public schools. If they had, the inherent freedoms, dignity, and self-respect of English children would likely have been eroded.

This raises a counter-question: Don’t South Asians with self-respect, dignity, and intellectual freedom emerge from these schools?

According to CPS records, during the period of English education in Tellicherry, there were no Muslim girls in schools or colleges.

Nairs and Namboodiris showed reluctance to enrol their children in these institutions, and Mohammedans were similarly uninterested in enrolling their daughters. Analysing this casually is futile, as the reasons are deeply complex. Only a shadow of these complexities is consciously clear in people’s minds; the rest manifests as vague discomfort, aversion, or unease.

For instance, in England today, many local English people oppose educating their children alongside South Asian children. If asked why, they may struggle to provide a clear answer. Others might conclude they harbour severe racial prejudice.

However, the reality is more nuanced. This writer, who has strived to keep their children out of India’s formal education system, does so not due to racial prejudice but for reasons that can be clearly articulated. Yet, the lack of a platform to explain this is a challenge.

Please check this link for further details.

[VED]

The second request made by the first District Muslim League Council held in Tellicherry in 1937 was to establish a special electoral system for Mohammedans in local boards and municipalities, to be enshrined in the Madras Local Boards Act and the Madras District Municipalities Act.

From 1909 until 1947, when British India was partitioned into India and Pakistan, a democratic system gradually grew and gained strength in British India. It seems many in India today are unaware of this.

Every law the English administration sought to implement was carefully studied and debated before being passed or rejected by legislators.

For example, raising the minimum marriage age for girls from 10 to 12 required significant effort by the English administration. The 1891 Age of Consent Act amendment sparked extensive discussions.

This was fiercely opposed by a politician from central India, Tilak, who argued that the English were interfering with Hindu traditions. It is unclear how this individual claimed to represent all those identifying as Hindus across British India. For instance, how many in British Malabar would have even heard of him?

(Many details related to this have since disappeared from Wikipedia pages.)

The introduction of democracy by the English administration in British India must have been a novel experience for local social elites. However, this likely fostered large-scale factionalism and rivalries in every corner. Many, recognising the immense political opportunities, engaged in fierce power struggles. These individuals were often wealthy enough to travel to England and other British territories.

QUOTE from Wikipedia:

At this, the pandal was strewn with broken chairs and shoes were flung by Aurobindo Ghosh and his friends. Sticks and umbrellas were thrown on the platform. There was a physical scuffle. When people came running to attack Tilak on the dais, Gokhale went and stood next to Tilak to protect him.

This describes an incident at a conference where a group attempted to attack Tilak and his associates, throwing sticks, umbrellas, and chairs onto the stage, with some abandoning their shoes in the chaos.

The English administration, with its lofty ideals, attempted to introduce democracy in British India. The above incident illustrates how those now celebrated as iconic leaders of the Indian freedom struggle responded to it.

Democracy in British India did not foster social harmony. In a society where people viewed each other with suspicion, it only amplified insecurities and distrust. The English failed to realise that people supported their rule for its stability, not out of love for democratic chaos.

English administration and local democratic upheavals were distinct entities; one was not a reflection of the other.

It must be clarified that democracy in South Asia did not replace traditional royal rule. If it had, that would have been largely positive. Instead, it displaced the exemplary English administration, which was overtaken by local social elites wielding democracy.

However, if those trapped in societal hierarchies, rather than elites, rose as leaders, it would not elevate society. Instead, it would plunge society into mental degradation.

The demand for reserved seats for Mohammedans in local boards and municipalities was a new impulse fostered by this democracy in South Asia.

In a linguistic environment where individuals cannot interact, address, sit, stand, or refer to each other as equals without committing a grave offense or lowering their status, democracy drives society toward cliquish alliances and subservience to certain individuals, rather than the egalitarianism envisioned by the English.

The English assumed societal connections were based on egalitarian “You-You,” “He-He,” “She-She” links. In South Asia, however, individuals are bound by hierarchical “Aang-Nee,” “Addeham-Avan,” “Avar-Aval” links, entangled in thousands of complex knots.

These are two distinct software codings, which should not be difficult to understand.

When individuals defined by “You” or “He” enter a feudal language coding, they are fragmented into “Nee,” “Ningal,” “Saar,” “Avan,” “Ayal,” “Addeham,” scattering across social and personal dimensions.

The English administration’s attempt to implement democracy in British India was a social engineering project undertaken without grasping this reality.

[VED]

The third decision mentioned from the first District Muslim League Council held in Tellicherry in 1937 was:

3.

The plan to make the poem Vande Mataram the national anthem of British India should be abandoned.

The notion that British India was governed solely by the English or other British people is a misconception. The vast majority of personnel in British India were locals. Only at the highest levels were English or other British individuals present.

The presence of the English at the top enabled the lofty humanistic values embedded in the English language to spread in the region. If people desired to work in English institutions or live in English countries, they would also prefer to live in regions where the English held administrative authority.

This preference sustained British India, not the alleged large-scale police or military oppression described in some modern narratives.

However, local social elites dominated society across British India. They could travel to England, speak against British India’s English administration, and gain support from a significant portion of Irish and Scottish people, as well as Britain’s left-leaning intellectuals, who often revered these wealthy landowners.

Yet, nearly 99.9999999% of British India’s administrative personnel were locals. Consequently, policies and proclamations from this system did not reflect an English character but were infused with the social ethos of Hindi, Urdu, Tamil, Bengali, Malabari, and other languages.

No matter how professionally the English administration operated, it could not erase this. The personnel, loyal to local elites, harbored various prejudices and aversions toward other locals.

Now, to Vande Mataram.

Vande Mataram is a song from the Bengali novel Anandamath. Today, Wikipedia and other sources describe it as a patriotic song and novel, even a clarion call against English rule. Since I have not read the novel, my understanding is based on secondary sources.

The novel was written by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee, who reportedly showed loyalty to the English administration.

It seems some Hindi speakers and their followers attempt to portray Vande Mataram as a Sanskrit song, though I am not certain.

The song appears to envision Bengal as a mother figure. Local elites seeking to wrest control of British India may have seen it as a means to bolster their nationalist claims. This likely drove the attempt to make Vande Mataram India’s national anthem.

Anandamath (translatable as Ananda Matham in Malayalam) seems to refer to an ashram led by a swami who orchestrated attacks against Mohammedans. The novel features a swami leading “Hindus” against Mohammedans. However, I cannot definitively say whether these “Hindus” were truly Hindus, as the term often refers to Brahmin religionists, excluding others.

Regarding Bengal, Murshidabad was a kingdom ruled by Muslim Bengalis, Turks, or perhaps Yavanas. When Siraj ud-Daulah attacked the English, his military commander was reportedly a Hindu, though this may not be precise.

Still, it seems a large non-Muslim population lived under Islamic rule, which was likely no better than other local regimes. For lower communities, the ruling group made little difference to their lives. However, for non-Muslim social elites, Islamic rule may have posed challenges.

These elites likely planned to rally people to suppress this Mohammedan rule. Although the English Company captured Murshidabad, it did not assume governance, focusing instead on trade.

Anandamath appears to depict a swami organizing non-Mohammedan “Hindus” to attack Mohammedans. It does not seem Brahmins led these attacks. The novel reportedly contains harsh invectives against Mohammedans, referring to them in three ways: as Turkic rulers, lower-caste individuals, and Yavanas, each carrying distinct social provocations. I won’t delve into these now.

Surprisingly, Anandamath was considered a patriotic novel during English rule, and efforts were made to make Vande Mataram British India’s national anthem, though it’s unclear who drove this.

The term “mother” is often misused. For example, “mother tongue” defines local languages, which itself is problematic. In Malabar, how was Travancore’s Malayalam imposed?

The attempt to portray British India as a reincarnation of an ancient mother figure is evident. That no one questioned how this “mother” was fragmented is unsurprising, as most were unaware of anything beyond their immediate surroundings.

Anandamath does not seem to be an anti-English novel. In it, a swami tells victorious “Hindus” that English rule is the most beneficial. The novel subtly critiques Brahminism, suggesting mlechha (outsider) communities infiltrated it, or that mlechha English integrated lower communities into Sanatana Dharma.

It depicts raiding Mohammedan homes and claims English rule offers the most comfortable life, even suggesting the English could be manipulated into governing.

The novel reflects mob violence, not Brahminism. Granting epic grandeur to such a mindset is foolish. Most who pushed Vande Mataram as a national anthem likely never read Anandamath.

Yet, hearing Vande Mataram may have stirred some grand, discordant rhythm in their minds.

Excerpts from Anandamath:

Everyone is out plundering. Villages are unprotected. They loot Mohammedan villages and workshops, then return home.

A great commotion arose. Some shouted, “Kill the bald-headed ones!” Others yelled, “Victory to the Maharaja!” Some sang, “Hare Murare Madhu Kaitabhare,” while others chanted, “Vande Mataram.”

Worshipping thirty crore deities is not Sanatana Dharma; it’s a vile, worldly religion. By defining this as Hinduism, the true Sanatana Dharma was destroyed.

Under English rule, people can freely practice their religion without compulsion.

The English are traders, focused on wealth, not governance. Yet, they must rule Bengal. We ousted the Mohammedans so the English could take over.

What all is seen in this novel! There is a sense that it even suggests that mlechha (outsider) communities infiltrated Brahminism and ruined its essence. Or perhaps it hints that the mlechha English brought lower communities into Sanatana Dharma.

Moreover, it speaks of raiding Mohammedan homes and engaging in reckless destruction.

It claims that the most comfortable life for people comes under English rule.

It suggests that the English can be fooled into governing our country.

This novel does not depict Brahminism. Rather, it showcases mob violence.

Granting epic grandeur to those with such a mindset is sheer folly. Yet, it seems that most who tried to make the song Vande Mataram, which glorifies Bengal’s mother, the national anthem of British India had likely never even seen the novel Anandamath.

But when they heard Vande Mataram, some grand rhythm in their minds might have begun to beat out of tune.

[VED]

By the early 1900s, local politicians and social elites in British India began to realize they could govern the region. Many who had visited England and returned harbored ambitions beyond mere governance.

The English East India Company had built a nation in South Asia far larger than Britain itself. For the wealthy elites returning from England, the idea of seizing control of British India started taking root.

As democracy spread in British India, many pursued this goal. However, none of these aspirants seemed to have any hereditary or legitimate claim to rule such a vast nation.

As political developments unfolded, various political movements likely scrambled to rally supporters. For several reasons, the Congress Party began gaining modest popular support in many areas, which we can explore later. Alongside this growth, there appears to have been a parallel rise in the influence of Hinduism.

The notion that everyone in the subcontinent who was not Mohammedan, Christian, Buddhist, Jain, or otherwise was a Hindu began to spread formally. This social amalgamation likely raised fears among Mohammedan politicians that the Congress Party would successfully co-opt this identity, a concern that emerged in various parts of British India.

This was fundamentally a contest among social elites. Maintaining social superiority was critical because losing it meant plummeting to the level of the common South Asian, who, in the language codes, was often depicted as a wretched being.

In 1937, the District Muslim League Council in Tellicherry made several decisions, including:

Ensure all Mohammedan children attend school.

(This likely aimed to prepare them for government jobs.)

Establish night schools to provide secular and spiritual education for illiterate Mohammedan laborers and farmers.

(This resembles revolutionary movements. In Travancore, groups like the London Missionary Society pursued similar efforts to uplift lower communities. Later, others, including communists, adopted such initiatives to gain social leadership.)

Start reading rooms and libraries everywhere.

(This aligns with revolutionary party tactics. These spaces likely promoted the movement’s ideological publications. The Muslim League probably did not focus on teaching English or introducing English literary classics, instead encouraging local feudal languages, which feels like a misguided effort.)

Collect zakat from all mahals and distribute it to deserving Mohammedans, providing support and protection.

(While a noble community effort, this differed from the English administration’s attempts to provide universal support. In a fragmented society divided by language codes, local movements had to work hard to achieve such community-focused goals, as individuals maintained subtle hierarchies and divisions in daily interactions.)

Control excessive and lavish spending on marriage ceremonies.

(This, too, stems from feudal language influences. Expecting local Islam, steeped in feudal languages, to regulate such practices may be wishful thinking.)

Encourage small-scale industries in every region.

(British India had legal provisions for this. However, fostering economic and commercial cooperation exclusively among Mohammedans could instill fear in other communities, a topic too deep to explore here.)

Resolve disputes, legal conflicts, and rivalries among Mohammedans through strong mediation.

(Another tactic of revolutionary parties.)

Promote Mohammedans attending Friday prayers at mosques on time.

Establish a gymnasium and a volunteer corps in every region with a Muslim League branch.

(This, too, reflects revolutionary party strategies.)

These decisions reveal that South Asia’s social shortcomings were also present among Mohammedans.

With the advent of democracy in British India, subtle changes occurred in the longstanding social fractures and hierarchical divisions. One shift was that instead of elites uniting, they began consolidating their respective communities under distinct identities, leading to new forms of social division.

Rather than resolving the issues perpetuated by feudal languages, imported English democracy merely saw society organize with war-like preparations. It did not eradicate or uproot these deep-seated problems.

Instead, competing social movements cunningly and shortsightedly ensured the English language remained inaccessible to the masses. If followers gained English proficiency, a bold lower class with strong individuality would emerge, no longer confined to the “lower” label. This would leave no one to shout slogans or revel in the frenzy of rallying cries.

In feudal languages, such a people might even be derided as lacking “manliness.”

[VED]

It cannot be said with certainty that throughout known history, South Asia had clearly defined kingdoms and their subjects in the manner we understand today. While historical texts may speak of great empires, emperors, and monarchs, it does not seem that any of these were states or administrations resembling a welfare state.

Emperors often held sway as overlords of smaller kings, but there is little evidence to suggest that the English administration brought about anything significantly beneficial to this subcontinent.

Through a series of historical coincidences, it was the English East India Company that transformed many of these small regions into a unified nation. In areas once plagued by thousands of daily acts of violence, plunder, and anarchy, significant peace began to emerge, along with considerable enhancement of value among numerous communities.

However, in Britain, academic geniuses, unaware of the realities of this subcontinent, were devising plans to plunge the region back into chaos. As part of this, democracy was imported into British India.

The intent of these so-called intellectuals was to return South Asia to the hands of local elites. It seems no one considered that this region had been under the control of local elites for thousands of years, yielding little benefit.

The Taj Mahal, numerous palaces, grand temples, forts, and the like are indeed visible. However, these stand as mere evidence of the enslavement of vast populations, a fact that many in England failed to comprehend.

By the 1940s, the Muslim League in Malabar began extensive efforts to rally Mohammedans. In just seven months, they reportedly managed to recruit 15,000 new members. By 1938, this number had grown to 32,000 in Malabar.

The Muslim League leadership consistently emphasised the distinct characteristics that set Mohammedans apart from others, while pointing out the misguided ideologies of those increasingly identified as Hindus.

Democracy was fundamentally transforming society. A new majority, called Hindus, emerged in British India for the first time in history. Yet, this Hindu majority was deeply fractured. Simultaneously, Mohammedans began to be recognised under a unified identity, though they too were internally divided. When reports or discussions of confrontations between these two groups arose, their internal divisions were rarely considered.

The Muslim League called for Mohammedans to unite under its banner to protect themselves from the oppression of the majority community.

In April 1940, a major Malabar district conference of the Muslim League was held in Calicut. Fazalul Haq, the Chief Minister of Bengal province in British India, reportedly advised:

You must, first and foremost, be a Muslim. Those who claim they are Indians first and Muslims second are not true Muslims.

It should be remembered that India as a nation did not yet exist at this time. What existed was British India, often simply referred to as India in British Indian records.

During this period, Congress leaders began employing cunning strategies to seize control of British India.

At the All India Muslim League’s Lahore conference, the Two Nation Theory was adopted. At the Muslim League’s conference in Calicut, agreement with this policy was affirmed.

This was the path through which democracy was brought to British India. Fazalul Haq’s words were: “The Mappilas of Malabar alone are enough to thwart Hindu dominance.”

Another leader’s words were:

We are a minority, but Hindus should not think they can do whatever they want with us. They must not forget the Battle of Badr, where a small group of Mohammedans routed a large group of unbelievers. As long as Arab blood flows in our veins, the majority is insignificant to us.

This was the time of the Second World War. For politicians, rallying people and diverting attention from their own disordered lifestyles was best achieved by advocating the end of foreign rule. Astonishingly, no great intellectual in Malabar seemed to realise that the plan was to hand Malabar over to Hindu dominance.

Histories written by fools claim that the English administration followed a policy of “divide and rule.” However, it was democracy that sowed division here, not the English administration, which had meticulously unified British India without attempting to foster division.

With the Muslim League in Malabar adopting the All India Muslim League’s Two Nation Theory, it could be said that Congress and the Muslim League were heading toward direct confrontation in Malabar. However, readers should note that these political games were orchestrated by a handful of leaders from their residences.

The vast majority of people had no objection to English rule. Moreover, anyone with even a modicum of historical knowledge would not wish to see their homeland returned to the hands of local elites.

The Hindu majority, as defined by the Muslim League, was not a historical reality. For instance, Pazhassi Raja massacred Mohammedans of lower social standing and had them nailed to gallows. Yet, he maintained close ties and allegiance with Tipu Sultan, the Mohammedan ruler of Mysore.

Similarly, in Calicut and Badagara, Namboodiris, royal families, and Mohammedans with Arab connections historically maintained close relationships.

Many prominent Mohammedan families may have been Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, or Nairs who converted to Islam. Among the non-elite, many were Makkathayam Thiyyas or Cherumars who also converted to Islam.

However, all elite families suppressed the lower classes. By 1940, many under both the Mohammedan and Hindu identities remained part of the lower classes.

In reality, when viewed closely, both sides preparing for confrontation consisted of the same groups. Talk of Arab blood or the Battle of Badr holds little relevance, as the thinking, speaking, and verbal sparring were not in Arabic or English but in a primitive, local feudal language.

What connection could there be between a local feudal language and the Prophet Muhammad?

[VED]

The political leaders of the time aimed to plunge British Malabar and the entirety of British India into a historical upheaval, akin to the Niagara Falls cascading all its waters into an unfathomable abyss, dragging everything toward a Hindi-dominated rule.

Their plan was not limited to British Malabar but extended to the Madras Presidency, Bombay Presidency, Calcutta Presidency, and other British Indian provinces, all to be swept into the abyss of Hindi rule.

It is true that there were many prominent Hindus at the time, but in the 1940s, around 82% of Hindus were illiterate. Furthermore, it is understood that the Hindi language was developed by combining some 18 minor languages and infusing them with Sanskrit vocabulary.

One can only wonder what new freedom would emerge in British Malabar by rejecting English rule and falling under Hindu dominance.

If English rule were to end, the All India Muslim League, the organisation of northern British Indian Mohammedans, demanded a separate nation.

With the Muslim League in British Malabar endorsing this demand, it appears that matters escalated into a significant ideological conflict between Congress leaders and Malabar Muslim League leaders.

Congress leaders insisted that the entirety of British India should come under their control. It is unclear what right Malabar’s Congress leaders had to demand that people in Hyderabad, Bengal, Sindh, and elsewhere must live in a Congress-ruled nation.

At the same time, the question of how Malabar’s Mohammedans could join a potential Mohammedan nation in the northwestern or northeastern parts of South Asia posed a significant geographical challenge.

In 1944, under the leadership of Alla Baksh, then Chief Minister of Sindh province, a conference was held in Delhi supporting the nationalist ideology of Congress. This led to the formation of the All India Muslim Majlis, an organisation explicitly aimed at opposing the Muslim League’s Two Nation Theory.

However, the underlying motive may have been to seize leadership within the community.

For social elites in Malabar who failed to gain leadership among Mohammedans, this was a significant opportunity. In July 1944, the Malabar District Muslim Majlis was established, setting up branches across all regions of Malabar. A new path to social leadership began to emerge.

Those seeking social status would first turn to Congress branches. If no positions were available there, they would look to the Communist Party or the Muslim League. The latter was accessible only to Mohammedans, but even there, positions would quickly fill up.

This is where the Majlis came in. Across all regions, numerous positions were open, and the first to join could secure them. In feudal languages, those with positions and those without were defined differently in all interactions through linguistic codes.

It seems the Muslim League and the Majlis competed for Mohammedan members. Though the Majlis claimed to oppose communalism, it reportedly behaved communally in Malabar to recruit members. To survive, the Majlis had to adopt a stance more rigid than the Muslim League’s communal policies. Otherwise, if they echoed Congress’s policies, people would question why they shouldn’t just join Congress.

In 1945, the first annual conference of the Malabar Muslim Majlis was held in Calicut.

The president of the All India Muslim Majlis attended, and his speech included these words:

The primary aim of the Majlis is to promote noble Islamic ideals and bring Mohammedans closer to their faith. ... My final request to you is to live as a Muslim. If necessary, die as a Muslim.

Exploiting spiritual emotions for political purposes is a common tactic. In the past, in what is now Maharashtra, Shivaji used Brahminical spirituality to rally Marathas under his leadership. Before him, Mughal emperor Aurangzeb seemingly followed a similar path, using Islamic spirituality.

When the Muslim League leveraged Islamic spirituality, the Majlis could not afford to abstain. Meanwhile, many had already appropriated Hindu spirituality from Brahmins. Gandhi, Congress, and others redefined Brahminical spirituality to suit their needs, using it to mobilise followers.

English rule in British India operated with the sole aim of social and national progress without promoting any communalism. Consequently, the English administration lacked any political organisation with widespread support. Yet, the majority of people mentally supported English rule.

Alternatively, many likely felt that it didn’t matter who ruled as long as their lives were not harmed.

Once an organisation is established, the next step is to seek issues to address and statements to issue. Without some noise and commotion, what’s the point of an organisation? To gain recognition, bold statements must be made.

The Malabar Muslim Majlis expressed regret over the lack of sufficient Mohammedan representation in government services in Travancore. It also issued statements regarding Mohammedan students in Cochin.

By 1945, the distinction that Travancore and Cochin were not part of British India began to blur, as these kingdoms interacted closely with British India. The royal families in these regions failed to recognise any danger in this, as it was nearly 100% certain that British India would not annex their kingdoms.

However, history often travels paths unimaginable even in dreams.

[VED]

In the autobiography of a Namboodiri, revolutionary party leader, and later Chief Minister of Kerala for a brief period, there are certain sentences written about escaping from the manor in Elamkulam during the Mappila rebellion and returning to the manor a few months later. These include:

Hindus recounting tales of attacks by rioters, Muslims fearing when the police would come to arrest them and anxious about relatives in jail; British loyalists blaming Gandhi and Congress; nationalists unsure how to justify Congress—this was the state of affairs.

This is quoted here as evidence that even then, a large section of people in British India held great affinity and respect for English rule. However, it must be noted that the English administration made no effort to organise these people or form them into a political party.

Another point is the transformation of the word “Hindu,” which, within roughly a century, came to encompass those outside the Brahminical religion.

Yet another overlooked detail is the separate mention of Gandhi and Congress, which holds significant truth. This will be explored later.

The term “nationalism” refers to the folly of handing over British Malabar and other British Indian regions to Hindus on a silver platter.

Now, let us return to the narrative.

The Muslim Majlis faced accusations of being a subordinate party of the “Hindu Congress Party,” as their official policy mirrored that of Congress. To counter this criticism, the Malabar Majlis reportedly resorted to raising communal demands that outdid the Muslim League.

They allegedly raised the charge that Muslims were not being appointed to numerous high-ranking positions in the Malabar District Board.

The Muslim League was also accused of being loyal to English rule.

In some places, it is noted that Muslim League and Majlis activists even came to blows. The district collector reportedly issued stern warnings to both groups, stating that no fighting would be tolerated.

In Malabar district, the enmity between Majlis and League members extended beyond the political sphere into social and religious arenas. An incident occurred where a Majlis sympathiser was barred from entering a mosque.

The qazi of the military mosque in Calicut was a League sympathiser, but the mosque committee was dominated by Majlis activists, forcing the qazi to vacate his position.

In the 1940s, an arrangement emerged to include Jinnah’s name in the khutbah recitation.

The Chandrika newspaper functioned as the Muslim League’s mouthpiece. It reportedly referred to League and Majlis members differently. League leaders were addressed with “Janab” before their names, while Majlis leaders were prefixed with “Shri” or “Mr.”

On one occasion, Muhammad Ali Jinnah expressed a preference for being addressed as “Mr. Jinnah.” Ironically, his supporters used “Mr.” to refer to their opponents, reflecting the petty mindset of Malabar’s political activists at the time.

This suggests that the followers may have been incapable of grasping the mindset of the great leader they revered.

Similarly, when Gandhi was addressed as “Mr. Gandhi,” his devotees reportedly tried to attack Jinnah.

Such was the mental calibre of those hailed as great warriors of India’s freedom struggle.

In Malabar, imposing “Mr.” or “Shri” on Majlis members while reserving “Janab” for League leaders was likely a strategic move rooted in an understanding of social mechanisms.

It was expected that Mohammedans would naturally respect those addressed as “Janab,” while those labelled “Mr.” or “Shri” would lose communal influence. The writers of Chandrika were likely well aware of the subtle yet powerful impact of feudal language codes.

Chandrika quoted a Malabar Congress leader stating that if the country came under Congress rule, cow slaughter and religious propaganda would be banned. Whether Chandrika hinted that English rule was preferable is unclear.

In the 1940s, three distinct political movements were active in Malabar, clashing or otherwise. This writer is unsure whether the Communist Party participated in electoral politics at the time.

Congress, the Muslim League, and the Muslim Majlis were the players in electoral politics.

The Muslim League demanded that the Malabar District Board not abolish schools exclusively for Mohammedans. Outdoing this, Muslim members of Congress’s KPCC passed a resolution echoing the same demand.

The Majlis accused the Muslim League leadership of comprising large landowners and other elites. They also alleged that the League’s stance on the Mampuram Restoration Issue demonstrated loyalty to English rule.

The Mampuram Restoration Issue cannot be discussed now but may be addressed later if it arises in the narrative.

It appears the Muslim League aligned with English rule, while Congress supported Hindi rule. The question of where the Majlis stood likely puzzled many, as their official policy aligned with Congress, yet in Malabar, they outdid the League on communal issues.

The question remains: who would align with a party straddling both sides? Regardless, it seems the vast majority of Mohammedans rallied behind the Muslim League.

The League concluded that Muslim Congress candidates winning elections in the Madras Presidency’s District Boards would not protect Mohammedan interests, as these candidates relied on votes from non-Mohammedans. Thus, in 1941, the Muslim League submitted a petition to the Madras Presidency Chief Secretary demanding separate seats for Malabar’s Mohammedans.

Democracy was advancing in British India, but it is evident that politicians had no vision of achieving anything superior to what English rule had implemented. They were preoccupied with both trivial and significant follies.

[VED]

It appears that Kerala Jaiyathul Ulema is likely the Kerala Jamiyyathul Ulama. This organisation, I believe, originated in Malabar, though I am not certain. While it primarily focuses on religious matters, at its annual conference in 1947, it declared its faith in the leadership of Muhammad Ali Jinnah.

Prior to this, an Islamic religious leader had issued a fatwa mandating that every Mohammedan must join the Muslim League. Consequently, most educated Mohammedans in Malabar rallied behind the Muslim League.

In the 1946 elections to the Madras Legislative Assembly, the Muslim Majlis, a political party, was almost entirely wiped out, with many of its candidates losing their deposits.

The All India Muslim League maintained that if English rule were to end, Mohammedans needed their own nation. The Malabar Muslim League fully supported this stance.

Meanwhile, Congress leaders in Malabar insisted that the entire country should be handed over to Congress.

In other words, it seems both groups forgot Malabar’s historical identity and became pawns in the political games of northern South Asian leaders.

In 1945, the British Labour Party came to power in Britain’s national election. One of its political goals was to dismantle the English empire and bring England to its knees globally.

With their rise to power, the notion gained strength that British India could be handed over to local petty leaders. Moreover, figures like Nehru, Jinnah, Gandhi, and others—wealthy South Asians who had lived in England and forged close ties with British Labour Party activists—unilaterally declared themselves leaders of British India’s people.

The realisation that the British Labour Party intended to dismantle the English empire energised Congress and All India Muslim League leaders toward grand political ambitions.

The prospect of controlling a vast nation, its massive administrative machinery, police, army, navy, air force, and more without investing a single penny likely filled these local leaders with immense excitement. Such an event—gaining something so significant without cost—had likely never occurred in world history. However, the government that came to power in England was not merely foolish but utterly diabolical.

Mohammedans held that they could not live in a Congress-ruled nation. Yet, it does not seem they faced significant hardship living under English rule.

A powerful political movement that had unified some two thousand small regions was about to commit suicide. The British Labour Party effectively greenlit massive human massacres, communal killings, and the violation of tens of thousands of women in northern South Asia. This will be discussed further later.

Though things were thus, it is unclear what stance Hindu movements took toward English rule. As mentioned earlier, Anandamath suggests a Hindu guru declared English rule preferable for this subcontinent.

It does not seem the Muslim League opposed English rule either. Their fierce opposition was directed at Congress rule. Does this mean the demand to end English rule was merely the whim of a few Congress petty leaders?

Could Congress’s strategy have been to pit Mohammedans against non-Mohammedans, fishing in troubled waters? Contrary to what Indian school textbooks claim, no popular revolution against English rule occurred in British India.

When the realisation spread that British India was nearing its end, Congress’s petty leaders and others made grand moves to seize control of the nation. This will be addressed later.

The All India Muslim League responded with countermeasures. In 1946, they observed Direct Action Day across British India. In Calcutta, Mohammedans and non-Mohammedans (those now identified as Hindus) clashed in the streets and elsewhere.

Many perished in the violence. Hindus, Sikhs, and Mohammedans clashed in various ways. Official records note over 10,000 deaths. One of the images provided above depicts those killed in this violence.

It should be noted that Bengal was then governed by a local ministry, with the administrative machinery itself divided along communal lines.

In other parts of British India, divisions, communal hostilities, and clashes likely emerged among people who had previously lived in harmony.

Hundreds of communities that had lived with full faith in the competence and efficiency of English rule suddenly became orphaned and forced into deadly conflicts, all because a barbaric regime came to power in Britain.

The absence of someone like General Dyer was felt. It is still unacknowledged by historians that he saved around one million lives in northern British India. It is also noted that General Dyer was Irish, not English.

As riots began in northern parts of the subcontinent, British Malabar was increasingly entangled in the rigid web of grand Indian nationalism, unnoticed by most, it seems.

The slogan “Pakistan or Khabaristan” was proclaimed by the All India Muslim League on Direct Action Day. It appears that, without fully understanding the implications, Malabar’s Muslim League members also observed this day.

This, it seems, is when the idea of Mappilastan emerged in Malabar. As British India moved toward separation, it is clear that British Malabar began veering toward a peculiar path.

[VED]

When local movements clashed, English rule became a trump card for all to exploit. The grand delusion of self-proclaimed intellectuals was that foreigners had seized the great India.

These so-called enlightened minds ignored the fact that, through highly efficient efforts, English rule transformed some two thousand small and large semi-barbaric and fully primitive regions into a modern nation. Instead, they trumpeted a Vedic-age culture, believed to have existed somewhere in Asia six thousand years ago, as the foundation of this modern nation.

The truth is that most people today have no hereditary, cultural, linguistic, or ancestral connection to that long-lost culture.

Though the Muslim Majlis was born in Delhi out of sympathy for Congress, in Malabar, it adopted whatever stance suited local political needs. They declared the Muslim League as pro-English, while the League, in public forums, likely presented evidence claiming the Majlis was the true supporter of English rule.

Meanwhile, the English administration in British India was in a state of profound ideological confusion. The heart-wrenching prospect of handing over a great empire, built painstakingly over a century, to local petty politicians must have been a devastating development.

Typically, in this subcontinent, if a great king sent a follower or son to govern a distant small kingdom, that appointee would soon claim the kingdom as their own, severing ties with the king’s men, discarding the father’s flag, and raising their own. Yet, as English movements spread globally, none broke ties with Britain. This turned into a catastrophe by 1947. When a mad regime came to power in England, every English-administered region worldwide was handed over to local petty politicians without negotiation, per the regime’s orders.

With English rule departing, anxiety likely grew among Malabar’s Mohammedans that anything could happen. The idea emerged of uniting Ernad, Valluvanad, and the Laccadives to form Mappilastan, either as a province of Pakistan, a special region within India, or a district in Malabar.

It is understood that Ernad and Valluvanad, mentioned here, were sites of major communal riots in 1921, known locally as the Mappila Rebellion. However, Congress’s petty leaders in northern British India, along with the newly emerged Gandhi, redefined and celebrated this event as the Malabar Rebellion or Malabar Agitation, portraying it as a revolt against English rule.

It feels inappropriate to skip this event without comment, so it will be addressed later.

Including the Laccadives in Mappilastan may not have been with the knowledge or consent of its people. However, it seems this inclusion was intended to give Mappilastan geographical significance.

Muslim League leaders submitted a petition to the Pakistan Committee demanding an independent Mappilastan. From the north, the southern region of the subcontinent might appear like a backwater. Yet, travelling by bullock cart in Valluvanad could give the impression of a vast kingdom.

In August 1947, English rule efficiently handed British India to local petty leaders and departed. Clement Attlee in England was hastening this process.

This urgency likely took hold in the minds of Malabar’s Mohammedan leaders. In June 1947, the demand for a special region for Mohammedans in southern Malabar was publicly raised in the Madras Legislative Assembly.

By then, it was almost certain that India would be established, and the Madras Presidency would be absorbed into it. As the Madras government discussed dividing the Presidency into four states based on language, Muslim League members demanded that a provision for Mappilastan be included.

The Muslim League argued that Mappilas, with Arab bloodlines, were culturally distinct from other Malabar communities. While there is some truth to this, they omitted or avoided mentioning that southern Malabar’s Mappilas also included bloodlines from local lower castes. They had no hesitation, however, in speaking of bloodlines from Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, and Nairs.

It can be inferred that Muslim League leaders did not shy away from criticising English rule either. They claimed English rule had hanged Mohammedans, with other Malabar communities aiding this, as part of their case for Mappilastan.

This claim holds only partial truth. The history of hangings is tied to the Mappila Rebellion, but the broader history of Mappila oppression is different. That history involves local kings, self-proclaimed rulers like Pazhassi Raja, and Nairs overseeing Namboodiri affairs.

Muslim League leaders also suggested that Mappilas had seen no progress in the past 150 years. This is complex, as it seems the League’s top leaders were from elite families. Many socially disadvantaged Mappilas likely came from local lower castes who converted to Islam, gaining significant social progress. However, they could not escape the oppression of local feudal language codes.

To understand their progress, one need only compare them to lower-caste Hindus who remained trapped. Moreover, over time, Mappilas likely absorbed Arab and other ethnic bloodlines.

The Madras Legislative Assembly passed the decision to divide the Madras Presidency based on language. However, no consideration was given to the Muslim League’s demand for Mappilastan. In response, League leaders staged a walkout, shouting “Mappilastan Zindabad.”

“Zindabad,” reportedly a Persian word, gained prominence as a slogan in South Asia when northern British Indian politicians began using it as an easy rallying cry. This slogan likely helped northern leaders sway Malabaris.

English rule was leaving, and a vast nation was falling into the hands of local petty leaders. Yet, the administrative machinery established by English rule would continue. All these leaders needed to do was sit at its helm and revel. Occasionally shouting “Inquilab Zindabad” could electrify the masses.

No need to mention that a petty leader would start fancying themselves a great or noble figure.

[VED]

In June 1947, Malabar Muslim League representatives met Muhammad Ali Jinnah in Delhi for the last time. Their request to create a Mappilastan in Malabar did not seem acceptable to Jinnah. He reportedly dismissed it as something that could only exist in an overly imaginative realm, stating that all decisions had already been made and no new proposals could be taken up.

It appears that both the Pakistan faction and Nehru’s faction, which had sidelined Congress leadership to seize control of the Indian side, were driven by grand possibilities, ambitions for power, and imperial desires. For both, acquiring the British Indian army was like manna falling from the heavens. It can be inferred that both factions planned to use their respective territories to seize surrounding regions and nations.

The Pakistan faction indeed used its acquired army to capture Baluchistan and other areas, though precise details are not available to this writer. However, it is understood that these annexations continue to haunt Pakistan today.

Moreover, a significant portion of Bengal province in British India was incorporated into Pakistan, a decision later proven to be a grave mistake by historical events.

The people of eastern Bengal and those in northwestern Pakistan were ethnically distinct. India’s leaders in the 1970s, through meticulous planning, exploited these ethnic differences and feudal language-induced hostilities and suspicions to provoke a revolution in East Pakistan.

There is much to say on this, which can be addressed if it arises in the narrative’s flow.

While the Pakistan faction was led by such imperial ambitions, the Indian faction harbored even grander ones. It is understood that India immediately annexed around five independent states. Whether the seven northeastern regions like Assam, Meghalaya, and Tripura were included is unclear.

In Travancore, many betrayed their king and kingdom to northern Hindi leaders, acting as collaborators and traitors. Consequently, Travancore’s annexation by Hindi leaders caused no significant issues.

However, regions like Assam and kingdoms like Kashmir descended into major independence struggles and armed conflicts.

It is understood that Punjab, a British Indian province, was divided, with one part going to Pakistan and the other to India. The Sikhs, fiercely loyal to English rule, were dissatisfied with some ethnic groups in Indian Punjab, leading to another independence struggle.

To neutralize this revolutionary fervor, the 1919 Jallianwala Bagh massacre in Amritsar was redefined as a national tragedy and an act of English cruelty against Sikhs. Grand memorials were erected, and the event was given immense significance to win Sikh loyalty. India’s leadership strategically executed this plan.

No plebiscite was conducted when Clement Attlee handed British India’s diverse regions and ethnic groups to Hindi and Pakistani leaders. In Indian Punjab, significant armed revolutionary potential simmered, leading to numerous heartbreaking events. Ultimately, the Indian army crushed the Sikh independence movement, and stories circulated that their surrendered leader was bayoneted to death by Indian soldiers.

Pondicherry, Goa, and other regions were seized by India using armed force. Sikkim was annexed in 1975 through deception.

The key point is that these regions and kingdoms could have been easily annexed by British India at any time, but English rule never operated in such a manner.

In Sikkim, the Indian army conducted a plebiscite, claiming 97.5% voted in favor of India. English rule never engaged in such fraudulent tactics, adhering strictly to a straightforward approach.

Much remains to be said about these events, which can be addressed as they arise in the narrative. The arrogance of Indian officials was a significant factor in all these events, and with that noted, we return to the narrative’s path.

Efforts to make Mappilastan a reality persisted, independent of Pakistan. In a 1947 pamphlet, it was claimed that during Tipu Sultan’s time in Malabar, the ancestors of today’s Hindus lived semi-naked, exposing their breasts and other body parts. Tipu’s soldiers, unable to be controlled, used these women to satisfy their lust, leading Tipu to order women not to display their bare chests, thus enabling Hindu women to dress modestly.

This revelation inadvertently provides evidence of the cruel acts of Tipu’s soldiers. Tipu, not a Malabari, was an invader.

A person from Kundotti wrote a battle song, portraying Britain and Congress as allies and enemies of Pakistan’s creation, weaving grand poetic verses. Anything could be written to complete the song’s grandeur.

To rally followers and ignite revolutionary zeal, anything could be said. Feudal languages offer abundant grandiose expressions to stir emotions and mobilize people.

With Pakistan’s creation, the All India Muslim League lost relevance in India, leaving the Malabar Muslim League. Questions about its future likely arose.

In March 1948, discussions on this took place in Madras. In 1951, the Indian Union Muslim League was established, gaining strength in Malabar but not in Travancore-Cochin.

In northern India, the term “Muslim League” was seen by some as a cursed word.

When British India was handed to local petty leaders, this was the extent of the shift in social mindset, with its ripples still visible today.

There was a notion to disband the Muslim League in Malabar, but strong opposition persisted. This led to a split, with some leaders leaving the League.

The Malabar Muslim League committee efficiently rallied Malabar’s Mohammedans under its banner by appointing prominent, socially respected leaders to high positions.

The narrative has now reached the 1950s.

Now, I plan to briefly address the Mappila Rebellion.

[VED]

The Mappila Rebellion was a communal riot that erupted around 1921 in parts of southern Malabar, specifically in Ernad, Valluvanad, Ponnani, and Calicut taluks. In the early months of 1921, the unrest spread rapidly from mosque to mosque and village to village.

This writer has gathered bits of information about this event from various sources since the 1980s. However, detailed accounts of the specific incidents during the rebellion are not fully available to me. While focusing on other matters, I have observed that many have interpreted and described this event in ways that suit their agendas.

In the IAS exam (Civil Services Exam), if asked to list struggles related to India’s freedom movement, writing “Mappila Rebellion” or “Malabar Rebellion” without hesitation would fetch high marks. Similarly, if asked what the Mappila Rebellion was, stating it was a major freedom struggle against British rule in British India would secure full marks.

However, if the ideas I am about to present here were used in such an answer, it would likely score zero.

The Mappila Rebellion occurred in southern Malabar, confined to specific areas. The delay in the British administration’s response may stand as a blemish on its efficiency. Yet, it must not be overlooked that 99.99999% of those operating the administrative machinery were locals.

In 1919, in Amritsar, the British Indian army conducted a shooting that crushed a potential communal riot. The soldiers, South Asians themselves, fired without mercy, targeting fleeing individuals. Notably, they did not shoot at active rioters but at a gathering where provocative political speeches were being made, despite a Military Act prohibiting such assemblies.

While this action in Punjab prevented a communal riot from escalating, General Dyer, who led the operation, lost his position in the army. Upon returning to Britain, he faced severe criticism, allegations, and legal proceedings, narrowly escaping harsh punishment.

This incident occurred in 1919, just two years before the Mappila Rebellion in southern Malabar. Compared to the vast expanse of British India, the affected area was minuscule and seemingly insignificant.

However, it is impossible to estimate today how many lakhs might have died had the communal riot spread unchecked.

Moreover, if other communities had rallied under the Brahminical banner, it seems unlikely that Mappilas could have held their ground in Malabar. This could have led to major clashes in Bengal and other parts of British India. Had such an event occurred, the British administration would have borne the responsibility and blame, a reality worth noting.

No such subcontinent-wide riot had occurred previously, as before British India, the subcontinent comprised around 2,000 small kingdoms or similar entities. Each region had elites oppressing lower strata in a hierarchical structure. Invasions, plundering, and abductions of women were constant.

Though Mohammedans stood apart, only lower communities likely felt this distinction. Elite Mohammedans probably lived amicably with other societal elites, distancing themselves from lower Mohammedans.

With the creation of British India, geographical divisions dissolved. The advent of democracy fostered social rights and debates across South Asia.

It seems true that the British administration was slow to suppress the communal riot in southern Malabar. As a result, countless families and individuals endured severe hardships.

It is unclear whether General Dyer’s experience initially paralyzed the British leadership.

However, once the British administration acted, it effectively prevented the communal riot from spreading to other parts of southern Malabar and later to northern Malabar.

Had the ripples of this unrest reached other parts of the Madras Presidency or Travancore, it could have caused severe problems for Mohammedans. In Travancore, Nairs held significant physical strength, authority, and legal freedom. They suppressed lower communities when they took to the streets waving revolutionary flags.

The actions of the rioters during the Mappila Rebellion must be detailed, as proceeding without doing so would render this narrative incomplete. Writing while concealing some facts and highlighting others lacks relevance.

However, I intend to examine the social and historical context of the Mappila Rebellion in this narrative.

Describing the events without this context could severely damage Islam’s reputation. Today, it seems there is little need globally to further tarnish Islam’s image. Labels like aggressors, terrorists, and barbarians have already been freely attached to Islam.

Detailing the events of the Mappila Rebellion could further harm Islam’s reputation, potentially staining the name of Muhammad, revered by many as Islam’s spiritual leader, which is a distressing prospect.

It is astonishing how Islam has been caught in such a predicament. On one hand, it is presented as a doctrine of peace and human equality; on the other, accounts suggest the opposite.

How Islam acquired definitions and accusations unfit for a spiritual movement warrants examination, which I will attempt.

Another aspect to explore is the connection between the Mappila Rebellion and the fabricated history celebrated as India’s freedom struggle.

Other matters to consider include:

Smaller Mappila attacks in southern Malabar before 1921 and the provocationsbehind them. What drove Mappilas to violently attack those perceived as aligned with the Brahminical banner in their social context?

Does being born into a Mohammedan community automatically make one a member of Islam’s spiritual movement? Are the anxieties, agitations, and hostilities in such individuals provoked by Islamic spirituality?

To what extent are those bearing Islam’s label truly Islamic, globally?

What social changes occur when an individual or group becomes Islamic?

What is happening to Islam globally? In many parts of the world, Islam is now associated with various terrorist activities. Is there an invisible group orchestrating and planning this?

Stories abound that Nairs, skilled in Kalaripayattu, fought alongside Pazhassi Raja to defeat the British. Why these Nairs failed to confront the Mappila rioters is a mystery that lingers in the pages of India’s fabricated grand history.

During the Mappila Rebellion, many households under the Brahminical banner were left helpless, facing the rioters’ violence without refuge or protection, leading to widespread criticism of the British administration at the time.

[VED]

The year is 2021, marking 100 years since the Mappila Rebellion.

If what was studied for the IAS is accurate, like other freedom struggle celebrations, the Mappila Rebellion should be commemorated with great fervor as a centennial event.

Moreover, it is heard that after India’s formation, many arrested and punished by the British police were granted freedom fighter pensions. (This writer lacks precise details.)

However, such information may only be useful for securing government jobs through exams, lacking accuracy or truth.

Mohandas Gandhi arrived in British India after attempting to shine in various places globally without success. He behaved as if he had a grand revelation to drive out British rule immediately upon arrival.

The trump card he seized was the Khilafat Movement. It seems only in British India was there significant agitation over an issue in Turkey, while the Turkish people themselves were hardly affected.

When a major communal riot erupted in a small area of southern Malabar, the British administration had to confront it. The British faced Mohammedans, leading Gandhi and others to propagate through their social media that the riot was part of the Khilafat Movement. This narrative reflected in southern Malabar and the Madras Presidency.

For Gandhi, this was likely a monumental event. He probably didn’t expect such quick acceptance for his agitation linked to the Khilafat Movement.

Media in Britain, America, and continental Europe likely saw Gandhi’s revolutionary leadership triumph in this event. Continental Europeans and Americans of European descent relish exaggerating any news that undermines England, elevating Gandhi’s name to the skies.

Other Congress leaders were likely stunned, but what could they do? Gandhi dominated the era’s social media—newspapers and other outlets—in British India.

Gandhi was a wealthy man. It seems few noticed he wasn’t a British Indian citizen. He had his own newspapers, magazines, and, with the establishment of an ashram, gained significant influence.

However, it seems Gandhi avoided seeking prominence in his native land, likely because it wouldn’t garner value there. Older family members and others might view his plans competitively.

It appears Gandhi established the Sabarmati Ashram not in Porbandar but in British India, though I’m not certain.

It seems Gandhi and others deliberately misinterpreted and falsely described the communal riot in southern Malabar, propagating it as part of the Khilafat Movement.

It appears that even nonsense, when backed by social media, can be transformed into wisdom.

It is understood that from 1836, starting with an incident in Ernad taluk’s Panthaloor desam, Manjeri amsam, where Kallungal Kunholan, a Mohammedan, stabbed Chakkuppanikkar of the Kanishan caste to death, around 30 communal incidents occurred. Brief accounts of these are found in the Malabar Manual.

The first thing that struck this writer about the above incident is that, though Kunholan was a Mohammedan, his name isn’t typically Mohammedan.

Though Mohammedans existed in Malabar historically, significant changes occurred among southern Malabar’s Mohammedans following Tipu Sultan’s invasion.

During Tipu’s invasion, Hindus (Brahmins), along with Ambalavasis and Nairs aligned with them, fled their homes to forests or Travancore. More terrifying to the Brahminical side than Tipu’s army were the lower-caste communities advancing ahead of his forces.

These groups reportedly stormed Brahminical households, committing all manner of violence. Nairs avoided confronting them, as doing so would tarnish their reputation entirely.

Though these groups ran rampant during Tipu’s invasion, they were likely not Mohammedans then. The rage and hatred in them weren’t created by Islam but stemmed from centuries of being shackled by social chains and degraded by linguistic codes.

During Tipu’s brief rule, many lower castes may have voluntarily joined Islam. English rule followed, weakening Brahminical control over their subjugated communities. In southern Malabar, from Makkathaya Thiyyas to the lowest Cherumars, many converted to Islam.

It seems northern Malabar’s Marumakkathaya Thiyyas didn’t significantly convert to Islam, possibly for specific reasons.

One possibility is that Makkathaya and Marumakkathaya Thiyyas were distinct ethnic groups. Marumakkathaya Thiyyas may have Yavana (Greek) bloodlines, while Makkathaya Thiyyas likely had Central Asian lineage. I won’t delve into these reasons now.

It is understood that Marumakkathaya Thiyyas didn’t impose distance pollution, unlike Makkathaya Thiyyas, who did.

It’s noteworthy that northern Malabar Nairs kept southern Malabar Nairs at a slight distance, another form of social exclusion.

In Tellicherry, Marumakkathaya Thiyyas and Nairs served in the English Company’s army. No such arrangement is known between southern Malabar Nairs and Makkathaya Thiyyas during the Tellicherry English Company period, though I lack precise details.

The Malabar Manual mentions Cherumars, derived from “cheriyavar” (small people). They were kept small through meager food and subjected to the harshest subordinating linguistic codes in the feudal language.

When Cherumars and other lower castes converted to Islam, profound psychological changes likely occurred, a certainty.

Even limited food access likely transformed significantly.

However, erasing their lower-caste label in the local community was challenging. Feudal languages encourage derogatory speech.

Gaining personal dignity without societal approval or recognition likely created a highly provocative environment.

When Arab bloodlines mixed with these groups, intense resentment may have festered in some.

Simultaneously, the inferior quality, jarring tone, and degrading connotations of their feudal language words likely caused significant unease among socially elite Mohammedans unbound by local Islamic hierarchies.

Their sporadic use of Arabic terms, mispronounced and misunderstood, likely spread acute social anxieties.

In a feudal linguistic environment, elevating the downtrodden is like removing a floor from a multi-storied building and placing it at the base, shaking the structure’s foundation.

Social communication equality is absent in feudal linguistic settings. However, in places with such equality, economic inequality is less problematic.

Islam’s endeavor was a project that stirred profound unrest in the local community.

[VED]

The Malabar Manual frequently praises Nairs, often comparing them to modern Indian police constables. It describes them as maintaining peace, law, and order in small kingdoms, regulating conflicts and rivalries among lower communities, overseeing them, preventing their women from being taken by others, and enabling lower communities to engage in their occupations.

However, this writer believes it is unlikely that William Logan himself wrote these laudatory passages. It is almost certain that these self-aggrandizing words came from Nair officials working under Logan.

Yet, in certain parts of the Malabar Manual, a subtle sentiment emerges—a grudging admiration or cautious empathy toward Mappilas or Malabar’s Mohammedans. This may seem an unusual observation, but consider this: the English Company did not encounter a uniform population in Malabar. Each small kingdom housed diverse communities and ethnic groups, interacting differently with each other and responding variably to the English Company. Moreover, there was no overarching national consciousness or loyalty among them.

The English Company had little understanding of what created and sustained this fragmented social condition. While Nairs acted as police-like figures, they lacked affection or obligation toward lower communities. Their upliftment was intolerable to Nairs, a fact evident in itself.

However, lower communities could not even imagine a society without Nairs, as their presence ensured protection for their homes and inhabitants from attacks or encroachments by other lower groups. The English Company understood this dynamic.

Yet, they also recognized that Malabar’s Mohammedans were distinct in many ways. Islam’s social impact seemed to align with some English ideals, but an elusive social coding among Mappilas created a stark difference. The Company failed to grasp that this coding stemmed from the interaction between feudal linguistic codes and Islam’s social ideals, fostering insecurity.

The following quote from the Malabar Manual, cited earlier, illustrates this:

Genuine Arabs, of whom many families of pure blood are settled on the coast, ... have a great regard for the truth, and in their finer feelings they approach nearer to the standard of English gentlemen than any other class of persons in Malabar.

This refers to pure-blooded Arab families, not Malabar’s Mappilas, stating that no one in Malabar matches the character and sensibilities of English gentlemen as closely as they do.

In northern Malabar, Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, Nairs, and Marumakkathaya Thiyyas may have joined Islam over time for various reasons, with Islam likely bringing positive changes. However, they would not embody the lofty values of the Arabic language.

While Islam may have socially improved many, the anxieties, social hierarchies, and personal animosities stirred by feudal language likely remained beyond Islam’s ability to transform.

Northern Malabar’s Mohammedans, possibly of Yavana (Greek) descent in Cannanore, including the Arakkal family, seem to have navigated Malabar’s historical events adeptly, striving for dominance. They likely used their Islamic identity to rally other Mohammedans, though the English Company, despite aiding them, held no high regard for them. They were seen as prone to making public promises while secretly acting against them, engaging in conspiracies—qualifying them, ironically, for India’s fabricated freedom struggle narrative.

The Mappilas of southern Malabar, involved in the 1921 rebellion and earlier violent incidents, were distinct from those mentioned above. They posed significant challenges to English rule.

Yet, in contrast to the exaggerated praise for Nairs, the Malabar Manual expresses genuine sympathy and admiration for these disruptive Mappilas’ traits without pretense.

The English Company operated in Malabar under a moral dilemma. Their staff across ranks comprised locals from various social strata. While their Tellicherry trading center’s soldiers might have included Nairs and Marumakkathaya Thiyyas, higher officials were likely Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, or Nairs—though this writer lacks precise confirmation.

Brahmins reportedly served as long-distance messengers. Marumakkathaya Thiyyas likely waited decades for access to higher posts.

Initially, the Company’s senior officials were from local elite families, forcing the Company to overlook their hereditary social abuses. Addressing the grievances of lower communities under these elites was not immediately feasible—even seating a lowly person on a chair was impossible.

The Company felt sympathy for the oppressed but was constrained. When lower castes in southern Malabar embraced Islam, it shouldn’t have troubled the Company, but it alarmed Brahminical families, the social leaders whose authority depended on loyal followers. Losing lower-caste followers to Islam threatened their leadership, a dynamic no establishment would tolerate. Even today, conversions to Christianity or Islam threaten social elites, risking their fall into obscurity.

It’s akin to a government school teacher whose student studies in England.

Islam’s social vision clashed with South Asian communication norms. Teaching social equality to people steeped in feudal languages could be perceived as sheer folly or mischief.

For Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, and Nairs, a lower-caste convert to Islam passing by was intolerable. The provocative coding of words like “on,” “ol,” “entha,” or “enthal” was lost on the English.

The audacity of these lower-caste Mohammedans was unbearable even to other lower-caste individuals.

Brahminical elites couldn’t freely roam society, yet lower castes, wielding Islamic identity without restraint, drove bullock carts, traded, farmed, and leased land. How could this be endured?

Imagine a student returning from England addressing new teachers as “Mr./Mrs.”—tolerable to an extent. But if old teachers address the student as Inhi (lowest you) and the student retorts angrily, consider the fallout.

Many lower castes behaved beyond their traditional status, some trading with Brahminical groups without deference. Picture a police constable’s servant interacting with an IAS officer without subservience—such was the upheaval.

[VED]

Let us focus solely on the lower-caste communities in southern Malabar who converted to Islam. They were not the only Mohammedans in the region. Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, and Nairs who embraced Islam may also have existed, alongside distinct Arab families.

Then there are the ‘Tangal’ families, some possibly of Arab descent. However, whether ‘Tangal’ is an Arabic term is unclear, as a Brahminical family in northern Malabar, targeted by Mappila attacks, also bore the ‘Tangal’ surname.

Quote from Malabar Manual:

On the 9th November 1851 information was received that Choriyot Mayan and eight others were designing to break out and kill one Kalattil Kesuvan Tangal, a wealthy and influential Hindu janmi of Mattanur in Kottayam taluk.

Another point: the mentioned attack occurred in northern Malabar, where Mappila attacks on Brahminical groups were rare and isolated. Yet, English rule often conflated northern and southern Malabar, a fact that likely caused unease among elite Marumakkathaya Thiyya families in northern Malabar, as noted earlier.

Not all southern Malabar Mappilas lived in constant hostility toward Brahminical groups or English rule.

The Malabar Manual mentions Kundotti Tangal, who, along with his followers, showed great loyalty to English rule.

Quote from Malabar Manual:

Just before the Joint Commission was dissolved, the Supravisor made a [sic] exempting the lands of the Kundotti Tangal (a high priest of one section of the Mappillas) from payment of the revenue, as had been the custom in Tippu’s time, on the condition that the Tangal and his people would prove loyal to the Honourable Company a promise which they have ever since very faithfully fulfilled.

This indicates that southern Malabar had Mappilas aligned under different leaderships, with Kundotti Mappilas demonstrating significant loyalty to English rule.

This loyalty was evident after the brutal murder of Henry Valentine Conolly, the Malabar District Collector, by three Mappilas at the Collector’s Bungalow in Calicut, in front of his wife. It was reportedly Kundotti Mappilas who chased and apprehended the culprits.

Some today label these murderers as freedom fighters, which would absurdly brand Kundotti Tangal’s people as traitors, reflecting the folly of India’s academic historical narrative.

Conolly had received an anonymous letter warning of the plot but did not act on it or even inform his wife.

Quote from Malabar Manual:

Mr. Conolly had received an anonymous letter warning him, but unfortunately thought it needless to take precautions, and had not even mentioned it to Mrs. Conolly.

Several points arise from this incident, but detailing them risks derailing the narrative, so I refrain.

Who wrote this anonymous letter? Why did they conceal their identity? Perhaps these Mappilas sought support from elite Mohammedan families for the attack but were refused. These families may have promised confidentiality, as revealing the plot could be seen as betraying their own. Yet, their loyalty likely lay with English rule, not with plans to sow anarchy.

Alternatively, lower-caste Mappilas may have sent the letter, refusing to join the plot but bound by a promise of secrecy or fearful of police interrogation if identified.

The behavior of southern Malabar’s police at the time also warrants mention, though I won’t elaborate here.

Most likely, the anonymous letter came from elite Mohammedan families.

The attackers—Valasseri Emalu, Puliyakunat Tenu, Chemban Moidin Kutti, and Vellattadayatta Parambil Moidin (three of them)—lacked typical Mohammedan names, suggesting they were from recently converted lower-caste families. They were also prison escapees from Calicut, likely mistreated by local jail staff, fueling resentment against English rule.

Why they were imprisoned is unclear, but the humiliation they faced in jail likely felt acute due to their Islamic identity. Lower-caste non-converts endured worse daily indignities yet remained loyal to their masters, unlike these converts, whose Islamic or English-inspired upliftment made degradation intolerable.

The attackers shared their plan with Taramal Kunhi Koya, who may have been the one to warn Conolly anonymously.

When lower castes in southern Malabar embraced Islam, it wasn’t just Brahminical groups who were alarmed. Elite Mohammedan families likely viewed this influx with unease but instilled disciplined behavior through social codes, minimizing provocation within their community.

However, individual interactions in social settings depend on others’ words and behaviors. When lower-caste converts, emboldened by Islam, interacted with Brahminical groups, the latter responded with defensive or retaliatory language, as feudal languages lack the framework to accommodate such social mobility.

Three prison escapees killed Conolly. Can all Malabar Mappilas or Mohammedans be judged by their actions?

Consider Bhagat Singh, whose bomb killed an unintended victim. Can all British Indian citizens be judged by his act?

[VED]

When discussing the Muslims of Malabar, matters tend to veer into highly complex territories. Addressing these matters here and now would require delving into history, which this writer is not yet prepared to do. For now, this writing remains focused on the effort to describe the people of South Asia.

There is much to say—both precise and imprecise—about a Cheraman Perumal from Malabar’s ancient past, as well as Malik-ibn-Dinar and others.

Similarly, before the arrival of the Portuguese, trading groups under the Egyptian king operated, centred in the kingdom of Calicut. These Egyptian trading groups dominated the pepper trade to Europe for centuries. It is also conceivable that they conducted the copra trade. It appears there was a strong bond between these groups and the Brahmin factions in Calicut (Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, and Nairs).

At the same time, it is understood that the Calicut royal family converted some Mukkava families to Islam and appointed them as seafarers for these Arab trading groups.

These groups were likely only a small fraction of Malabar’s local society. Moreover, the Mukkuvars, maritime traders, and others probably had little opportunity to maintain significant ties with individuals in the local community.

Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, and most Nairs were not necessarily fish-eaters. The lower classes were likely mere slaves, striving to catch their own fish and meat as needed.

Furthermore, the Namboodiri faction defined the Mukkuvars as a lowly group.

The growing presence of Muslims of varying status, as mentioned above, likely brought about minor changes and shifts within Malabar’s society.

However, with the establishment of the English company factory (trading post) in Tellicherry, significant societal changes likely emerged. When the English company also assumed control of Malabar’s administration, profound transformations in societal structure probably occurred.

With each passing year, the dominance of Brahmin supremacy waned, and by around 1900, a new bureaucratic movement rooted in English language proficiency was established. Consequently, the significant authority once held by Nairs diminished. Nevertheless, individuals from the Nairs, Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, matrilineal Thiyyas, and certain Muslim families continued to operate at various levels within the English administration and police.

Now, let us turn to the matter of the Mappila Rebellion.

The Mappilas mentioned above likely had only a tenuous connection to the communal tensions simmering in South Malabar since 1836. It could even be said, to an extent, that those Muslims were not these Muslims.

Moreover, when the Mappila Rebellion erupted in South Malabar, the Mappilas may have found great zeal and unity in the Prophet Muhammad, the Holy Quran, and other sources. However, the real provocations and grievances were not caused by Muhammad or the Holy Quran.

It does not seem that the exemplary character of Muhammad was reflected in these Mappila rebels. Yet, it is possible that Islam fostered an excessive sense of individual growth among this group, who spoke a feudal language.

It is uncertain whether the reader can visualise this. It is akin to a student, educated to high standards in English within a Malayalam school, joining the fray. Such a student is highly likely to exist as a personality that creates division, discord, disruption, and disorder within that school environment.

At the same time, if a highly qualified English teacher joins the same school, it may not cause such issues. This is because the teacher might introduce modest, innovative ideas without disrupting the school’s atmosphere. Still, a slight unease may persist among the other teachers.

However, if this teacher instructs students to adhere to English etiquette—addressing teachers with “Mr.” before their names, speaking face-to-face without bowing, and not standing when a teacher enters the classroom—the very existence of the school could be jeopardized.

This is because the school is not truly an English school. Rather, it is an institution that teaches subservience and servility as paramount values. When a student trained in such a system receives this new knowledge, they may behave defiantly.

Such an experience has occurred in many places where Islam spread. The fear that the lowly might become defiant can itself spread within society.

It is likely for this very reason that, in many places, there was a covert warning not to teach the lowly English, or if any among them knew English, not to allow them the opportunity to speak it.

However, the upheaval caused by Islam does not necessarily mirror that caused by English. This is because there is a sense that many could only understand Muhammad within the narrow confines of spiritual limitation. There appears to be a limitation in Islam that it must effect societal transformation solely from within spiritual boundaries. Thus, in a feudal language society, Islam may not have succeeded in overcoming the upheavals caused by such languages.

In short, fostering personality development in those expected to exhibit great subservience and servility is akin to teaching English manners to students in a Malayalam school. Those who have long been steeped in great subservience may reach a state where they refuse even to stand when social superiors enter. In feudal languages, not standing when a superior enters is akin to a slap in the face.

In English, however, this is an indication of the erosion of personality value.

Readers may recall that in Volume 2, Chapter 49 of this writing, an Islamic incident related to this matter was described.

[VED]

It was said that when Islam spread among the lower classes, it caused alarm among others, but the same phenomenon did not occur when English spread among them. However, the matter concerning English needs further clarification.

When Islam spread in South Malabar, it seems there was no effort to eradicate the local feudal language. This was likely because such an endeavour was not considered feasible. It is understood that there was a rule among the Mappilas that the oppressive terms of the feudal language should not be used by them towards certain high-ranking Muhammadan families.

At the same time, when English spread, it brought with it an ideological system that dismantled the local feudal language. When a lower-class individual, empowered by this change, used terms like You, He, She, They, Our, Mr., Mrs. while addressing social superiors, it did not result in a complete upheaval of the existing order. However, the reality is not confined to such subtle shifts.

What the other side witnesses is a lower-class individual, who was expected to cower, sit on the ground, and display servitude, rising upwards like water surging in a flood.

Certain realities remain unchanged. That is, merely acquiring some English does not socially elevate a lower-class individual. Instead, in the local community, the feudal language still chains them to terms like nee, inhi, eda, edi, mere names, avan, or aval, requiring them to constantly demonstrate servitude through feudal language and body language towards those above them.

When such an individual occasionally uses English sentences to slip out of these chains, it is unlikely to be well-received by the other side. In the feudal linguistic atmosphere, a person at the bottom who displays great servitude is considered very good, while one who does not is deemed highly dangerous.

If such an elevated lower-class individual defines social superiors with terms like avan or aval, it becomes a significant issue.

The broader aspect is that even the social superiors, along with those above them, live by constantly expressing servitude and submissiveness through feudal language and body language.

There is much more to say on these matters, but now is not the time for it.

It seems that Islam in Malabar spread among at least two opposing groups of people. Ibn Battuta, the Moroccan traveller and historian who visited Malabar in the 1300s, provides evidence of this in some of his writings.

Along the roads, there were small rest-houses for travellers, often accompanied by a well. The high-caste individual managing the rest-house would stand by the well and pour water into a vessel for travellers to drink. However, if the traveller was a Muhammadan, the water would be poured into their hands, ensuring the Muhammadan did not touch the vessel. (It is also said that the water might have been poured through a bamboo tube.) If a Muhammadan accidentally touched the vessel, the high-caste individual would break it. Muhammadans were not allowed to enter the rest-house but were provided food while being kept at a distance.

At the same time, Ibn Battuta notes another reality. In most towns, there were wealthy Muhammadan merchants’ houses where any travelling Muhammadan, whether a merchant or poor, could find lodging and food. These wealthy Muhammadans were greatly respected and held high status in society.

QUOTE:

To the infidels he supplies this in vessels; to the Moslems he pours it in their hands. They do not allow the Moslems to touch their vessels, or to enter into their apartments; but if any one should happen to eat out of one of their vessels, they break it to pieces. But in most of their districts the Mussulman merchants have houses, and are greatly respected.

So that Moslems who are strangers, whether they are merchants or poor, may lodge among them. But at any town in which no Moslem resides, upon anyone’s arriving they cook, and pour out drink for him, upon the leaf of the banana; and, whatever he happens to leave, is given to the dogs.

Although this describes two distinct classes of Muhammadans—those at the top and those at the bottom—it is noteworthy that high-ranking Muhammadans did not distance themselves from lower-class Muhammadans. This may be due to clearly defined codes of conduct between the two groups and the fact that both existed within the overarching framework of Islam.

In contrast, for Hindus (Brahmins and their associates like Ambalavasis and Nairs), the lower class was simply the lower class. Only around the 1900s did the lower class begin to gain a Hindu identity in the local community.

Now, let us discuss the long-standing enmity and conflicts between Nairs and Mappilas. What is said here may not be the sole or absolute truth. The royal family of Calicut provided various encouragements to Muhammadan merchants and the Muhammadan Mukkuva community working under them.

Observing Calicut’s strategy of utilising Mappilas, the nearby Vellatiri royal family in Valluvanad attempted something similar. However, in Valluvanad, there were few Muhammadans of Arab descent, so the royal family had to rely on lower-class communities, such as the Cherumar, who had converted to become Mappilas.

These Mappilas reportedly lacked the characteristics of Calicut’s Mappilas.

QUOTEfrom MALABAR MANUAL:

Mappillas consequently abounded in this chief’s territory, but as Muhammadan immigrants were few in his inland tracts he had perforce to recruit his Mappilla retainers from the lowest classes of all—the slaves of the soil or Cherumar.

Significant clashes occurred between these lower-class Mappilas and the Nairs, who were Vellatiri’s traditional protective class, around the 1790s.

The Mappila Rebellion and Khilafat movement raised similar issues in the same region in 1921. Gandhi claimed this was a revolution he had called for. However, centuries earlier, similar clashes had occurred between these groups in the same region, with the English merely acting as spectators or suppressors of the conflicts.

QUOTE from MALABAR MANUAL:

Although, therefore, the Vellatiri Raja’s districts were restored to the Raja for management, it was soon discovered that he was powerless to repress the disturbance which speedily arose between Nair and Mappilla, and it was in consequence of this that so early as May 1793 the Joint Commissioners had to resume his districts and manage them directly.

It is understood that the English also viewed Mappilas differently.

QUOTE from MALABAR MANUAL:

To ensure peace and harmony in the family the Linguist, M. A. Rodrigues, and the influential Mappilla merchant Chovakkaran Makki, were deputed to Chirakkal. They succeeded in establishing peace.

While Muhammadans and Nairs may have cooperated in high-status circles and coastal trade hubs, in the interior and agricultural regions, ordinary Mappilas and the Nair supervisory class clashed in various ways.

QUOTE from MALABAR MANUAL:

Having tasted the sweets of liberty under the Mysorean rule, these Mappillas did not readily yield submission to the ancient order of things when the Mysoreans were driven out.

There were also instances where the English protected Mappilas from Nair aggression, which will be addressed in the next piece.

Today, both groups criticise the English extensively. Such criticism holds currency in these times. Anyone can write or make films, and feudal languages, rich in evocative and thrilling words, can easily portray anyone as a great hero or freedom fighter.

However, what should be said about those who spread such falsehoods and accusations against a group (the English) that, for the first time in this region’s history, brought such benefits to ordinary people?

[VED]

It must be understood that from around 1836, the English administration could not discern the precise reasons behind incidents in parts of South Malabar where Mappilas attacked Hindus (Namboodiris), along with their associates, the Ambalavasis and Nairs.

It appears that each of these attacks involved only a few Mappilas, and these incidents were largely unconnected to one another.

It is also understood that during this series of events, the English administration made several attempts to identify the true provocations behind these incidents.

Such disturbances in society likely posed a significant challenge for English officials, forcing them to abandon their peaceful routines to deploy police and military forces, travel great distances in haste, and confront these aggressors. However, none of these acts of violence were truly directed at the English administration. Yet, the police peons, police kolkars, tahsildars, and others representing the English administration were themselves local individuals.

It seems the English officials realised that some invisible outbursts and provocations were occurring within society, but they could not grasp what these were.

During Henry Valentine Conolly’s tenure as Malabar District Collector, in his efforts to uncover the causes of these violent incidents, he requested the government to investigate, even if it meant identifying any errors or mismanagement on his part.

QUOTE:

If any want of, or mistake in, management on my part has led in the slightest degree to these fearful evils (far more fearful in my time than they have ever been before), I am most desirous that a remedy be applied, whatever be the effect as regards my personal interests.

On 27 July 1842, the Director Board of the English East India Company issued an order for the entire abolition of slavery in British India. Subsequently, on 15 March 1843, a letter from them emphasised the need for special attention and measures regarding the emancipation of the enslaved population in Malabar.

Following these orders, Conolly began issuing strong notifications in both Malabar regions to abolish slavery.

However, this measure did not apply to the lower classes who had converted to Islam, as they had already been freed from servitude. It does not seem that Mappilas felt any affection towards the Cherumar, who remained enslaved and loyal to the Hindu side.

There was likely no reason for Mappilas to favour the emancipation of the Cherumar from slavery. This is because individuals speaking feudal languages tend to focus primarily on their own interests.

Moreover, every individual at the bottom of the feudal language hierarchy perceives life, society, and social events through the narrow perspectives permitted by linguistic codes. Additionally, the triggers that provoke them or evoke great joy often stem from trivial sources of inspiration or approval.

Furthermore, baseless rumours emanating from small circles can escalate into significant provocations within society.

The Malabar Manual specifically mentions the case of Saiyid Fazl Thangal.

He belonged to a family of Arab descent and was known by names such as Pookkoya Thangal, Tirurangadi Thangal, and Mambram Thangal. It is said that when some Mappilas prepared to attack the Brahmin side, they would visit the tomb of Tharammal Thangal in Mambram to pray and kiss the hands of Saiyid Fazl Thangal, who resided nearby.

Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s name and reputation grew widely across the region. It seems people repeatedly spoke of what he said or did, attributing great divinity to him. Many Mappilas began to see him as a divine figure, and even high-ranking Muhammadan families started respecting his words.

If the accounts in the Malabar Manual are accurate, it must be understood that Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s name evoked such intense emotional responses among the Mappilas in South Malabar that he himself could not control the resulting fervour.

It appears that most of these Mappilas were only a few generations removed from servitude. Not only did they exhibit extraordinary loyalty and devotion to Islam, but they also displayed remarkable courage. This aspect warrants special examination. It is unclear whether high-ranking Muhammadan families exhibited similar courage.

When mentioning this, it is notable that a similar loyalty and courage was displayed in some places by lower-class individuals aligned with the English side. It would be worth investigating whether there is any connection between these two phenomena.

I plan to explore this further later.

On 17 February 1851, between 10,000 and 12,000 Mappilas reportedly gathered in Tirurangadi, with a significant portion armed. This gathering was triggered by a rumour that Saiyid Fazl Thangal had been arrested and humiliated by the government. However, it seems Saiyid Fazl Thangal himself clarified that this information was false.

The very claim of his humiliation holds a significant secret. The English officials’ side, comprising Nairs, Marumakkathayam Thiyyas, Muhammadans, and others, addressed anyone they encountered—using terms like mere names, nee, eda, enthada, edi, or enthadi—when speaking or questioning. Such questioning itself was considered an act of interrogation, implying the use of these derogatory terms.

Even high-ranking individuals among the aggressors were questioned in this manner.

The English administration likely became aware that Saiyid Fazl Thangal was a significant focal point for the aggressors. However, the Mappilas were not clashing with the English administration. So why was the English administration concerned?

When around 12,000 armed Mappilas gathered in Tirurangadi, it was likely the surrounding Hindus, their associated Ambalavasis, Nairs, and others who trembled in fear. Additionally, Marumakkathayam Thiyyas who had not converted to Islam and the lower classes beneath them may also have been terrified.

The English administration had to investigate whether Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s words and actions were inciting significant unrest among the Mappilas. If so, he would need to be brought to trial, detained directly by the state government, or removed from the region.

When Conolly, the Malabar District Collector, consulted with him, the realisation was that Saiyid Fazl Thangal was a very good man.

[VED]

At that time, various regions of South Asia were gradually coming under the English Company’s rule. Each region presented its own unique issues. The early decision of the English East India Company’s Director Board was to avoid taking over governance in any region. However, South Asia was marked by a peculiar social and political atmosphere.

Words held no fixed value. Promises were kept to the powerful, but if the powerful felt their status was threatened, they would break their word. Political stability was absent everywhere. Large populations were enslaved.

When the English Company defeated the combined forces of the French army and a local ruler in Bengal, the question arose about what to do with the captured territory. As a mere commercial entity, the English East India Company lacked the capacity or intent to assume governance. Thus, the region was handed over to Mir Jafar, a member of the local ruling family.

However, the English Company soon realised that local political philosophy equated governance with enslaving the lower classes and maintaining that system. Consequently, the Company had to directly assume Bengal’s administration.

Yet, saying the English Company governed was not enough, as most administrative roles were filled by local Bengalis, who showed no compassion towards their own people.

When the English Company took over both Malabar regions, they faced numerous subtle and significant challenges. These were addressed using local individuals, who harboured various grudges, enmities, and anxieties, while displaying servitude and submissiveness to some and demanding the same from others.

Such diabolical mindsets were fostered by their feudal language. However, it was difficult for an average Englishman to comprehend that human minds could harbour such malevolent tendencies.

When the English side instructed a local individual in English to convey a message, they could not anticipate the complexities involved. Their language used simple terms like You, Your, Yours, He, His, Him, She, Her, Hers, They, Their, Theirs. However, for the local recipient, each term fragmented into at least two or three distinct hierarchical codes, a fact still unknown to the English side.

Individuals perceived as nee, ningal, or thangal were treated based on their respective You form by the local person receiving the English instruction. The You forms between individuals could affect communication, sometimes preventing the local person from even speaking to the other.

The English side was unaware of this unidirectional valve in communication.

Similarly, information received from their subordinate officials passed through multiple filters, with much never reaching them at all.

This preamble was to discuss Saiyid Fazl Thangal.

The reality is that the English administration faced thousands of issues across hundreds of regions in this subcontinent. Their presence brought significant societal changes, including liberation from traditional servitude for numerous communities, which will be discussed later.

The English side adopted uniform competence and conduct worldwide, shaped by the egalitarian word codes of the English language. This approach was consistently applied across the subcontinent, with occasional minor deviations due to the presence of Celtic language speakers or certain continental Europeans among them.

Moreover, many high-ranking positions in the English administrative system were held by South Asians. Despite their proficiency in English, they could not erase the influence of their local feudal language mindsets.

Information about Saiyid Fazl Thangal, Mappilas, and others likely reached the English side through Namboodiris, Ambalavasis, Nairs, Marumakkathayam Thiyyas, Syrian Christians, lower-class Christians, and Muhammadans working under them, carefully filtered through multiple sieves.

Similarly, when the English side implemented policies for public welfare from their broad, egalitarian linguistic mindset, local elites conveyed these to the lower classes and Mappilas through the same filtered channels, meticulously curated.

Thus, there was no direct pathway in the social atmosphere for the English side to understand the Mappilas of South Malabar, or for the Mappilas to understand the English side.

However, when English officers, alongside local soldiers and police, confronted Mappila aggressors, certain observations were clearly recorded in the Malabar Manual. The Mappila aggressors were extraordinarily courageous and refused to surrender under any circumstances. In contrast, the English side’s paid police and military sepoys were described as lacking courage, fleeing at the sight of the Mappilas’ advance.

The English side speculated that some Mappilas might be fanatical, believing that martyrdom would lead to paradise, where houris would whisk them away. They could find no other basis for such courage. However, this phenomenon cannot be confined to such simplistic explanations.

Initially, the Malabar Manual describes Saiyid Fazl Thangal as a notorious figure. Yet, after sifting through layers of filtered information, when Mr. Conolly directly interacted with him, the impression was markedly different.

These matters will be addressed in the next piece.

Additionally, I will attempt to write a sentence or two about the spirit, essence, character, ideals, or mindset of the laws enacted by the English administration to address local social issues legally.

[VED]

It is unclear whether manuals like the Malabar Manual were created for every district in the Madras Presidency, but it is known that such manuals were produced in several districts. It seems the Madras Presidency government issued a general order to compile these manuals for each district.

The primary aim was to document as much information as possible about each district in these manuals. This included details about the district, its people, historical events, how the region came under English rule, and other relevant information, all intended to provide the English administration with accurate insights.

However, it is certain that local government officers and clerks in each district would attempt to insert their own opinions, interests, ethnic prejudices, details that elevated their community’s status, and kinship ties into these manuals. This reflects the nature of the people in this subcontinent.

Thus, the historical events recorded in the Malabar Manual, derived from the daily logs maintained at the English East India Company’s factory in Tellicherry, are likely the most accurate section of the manual. These logs, which recorded daily events, provide a reliable source of information.

It is understood that English colonial operations generally had this characteristic: they meticulously documented everything. Even if an enslaved person travelled on their ships, their name and identifying details were recorded. In contrast, locals in their native lands might assign such individuals no more value than livestock. What identity document would livestock have?

When enslaved locals from South Asia escaped to South Africa, they too were provided with such identity documents on the ships.

Today, Indian academics might misinterpret these records, writing that the English Company engaged in the slave trade, thereby securing dubious doctorates.

It is noted that the Malabar Manual used the Tellicherry factory’s logbook for its compilation. It seems that the historical sections related to the English Company’s operations were written by William Logan himself, or at least that he paid close attention to these sections.

The factory logbook was not written to deceive, mislead, or preach to anyone. Thus, its contents are likely to be largely factual.

This preamble is to contextualise the discussion of Saiyid Fazl Thangal as described in the Malabar Manual.

It seems that the isolated attacks on the Brahmin side in South Malabar were carried out by descendants of lower-class communities who had converted to Islam, rather than by pure Arab-descent Muhammadan families. However, I, as the writer, cannot state this definitively.

These were likely energetic, enthusiastic, and hardworking people living in small thatched huts, raising poultry, goats, buffaloes, and cows, and cultivating crops like banana, coconut, areca nut, and black pepper around their homes.

Though other communities might regard them as lower-class Muhammadans, it is likely true that some had Arab ancestry. Moreover, upon embracing Islam, their lower-class mentality and physical traits may have faded.

I, the writer, personally observed such Mappila families in parts of Malabar about 40 years ago, living in similar small huts.

While traces of lower-class traits could be discerned in them, some had dark skin, others medium, and some strikingly fair complexions. Some had non-dark eyes, and among the women, some were remarkably fair and exceptionally beautiful, as I recall.

Nevertheless, it seems these people displayed significant subservience towards high-ranking Muhammadan families at the time. Additionally, they likely held a near-superstitious spiritual reverence and respect for Thangals.

In the 1800s, the presence of a spiritual leader likely provided significant convenience and motivation for lower-class converts to Islam to organise and rally. This may be a general truth (a truism).

It can be understood that until the English administration established itself in the region, the millions of enslaved people here had no opportunity to organise or unite under a common leader. In Travancore, groups like the London Missionary Society not only liberated the enslaved but also provided leadership through their missionaries, enabling organisation.

Without such leaders, individuals bound by feudal languages would find it difficult to organise.

In English, such issues are less significant. Even without a divine common leader, English speakers, distanced from other linguistic groups, face little difficulty cooperating or organising.

However, in feudal languages, being able to invoke a great leader, claim their blessings or approval for one’s actions, and present such testimonials carry immense value.

For the lower-class Mappilas of South Malabar, having individuals from pure Arab-descent families as their spiritual leaders was likely a significant development in the 1800s.

It is unclear how some individuals from these pure Arab-descent families earned the title of Thangal. However, it is understood that the title carried profound spiritual significance.

[VED]

For the lower-class Mappilas of South Malabar, who were rising mentally, physically, culturally, and socially through Islam, the presence of Saiyid Fazl Thangal, standing in a divine spiritual position, must have been a tremendous source of mental strength.

It is likely true that these lower-class Mappilas harboured various mental conflicts and rivalries among themselves. However, their common social adversary was likely the Brahmin side, which had enslaved their ancestors along local kinship lines. This awareness may have fostered a sense of unity among them when facing a shared enemy.

In every region where these Mappilas lived, the presence of a mosque near their homes likely facilitated significant cohesion among them.

While some of their local kinship ties might connect them to their former lower-class social status, their Arab ancestry could also link them to Arab lands. However, it is unclear how much clarity these connections brought to their social mindset. It seems they were reflected only faintly in their social thoughts.

Saiyid Fazl Thangal was not a leader who emerged from among them. Rather, he was likely a person who maintained ties with social elites and shared linguistic status with Arab identities.

He and his family had to maintain some distance from the lower-class Mappilas. To live in South Malabar, they needed to avoid being ensnared by the grip of the local feudal language.

If a person from among the lower-class Mappilas rose to leadership, they would not attain the same social status as Saiyid Fazl Thangal. Such a person would have to engage with other lower-class Mappilas using terms like inhi (ijj) to live within society.

However, as social leadership grows, the term inhi becomes a marker of subservience, requiring the leader to rise above its constraints.

It is understood that Saiyid Fazl Thangal was a person of pure Arab lineage and socially elevated status. It seems unlikely that he could establish a close personal relationship with lower-class Mappilas, as he needed to interact from a divine and elevated position.

For this reason, the lower-class Mappilas likely recognised and perceived him through their social circumstances and the inferior mentalities ingrained by their family backgrounds.

QUOTE from Malabar Manual:

Mappillas regarded him “as imbued with a portion of divinity. They swear by his foot as their most solemn oath. Earth on which he has spat or walked is treasured up. Marvellous stories are told of his supernatural knowledge. His blessing is supremely prized.

These matters may all be positive. However, I, as the writer, lack the knowledge to definitively state whether they fall within the bounds of pristine Islam. It seems that perceiving divinity in individuals is a trait imposed on lower classes by feudal languages over time. It does not appear that the Prophet Muhammad portrayed Islam in this manner.

In feudal languages, this is the only way to foster obedience and cohesion among those socially subordinated. Otherwise, the warnings given by Muhammad himself hold no relevance in this region. His admonition was that Muhammadans should not display any subservient behaviour towards him. Yet, in feudal language regions, subservience is misconstrued as respect.

It is notable that these Mappilas may have regarded the land and earth where Saiyid Fazl Thangal spat as divine. It is unknown whether fundamental Islam permits such beliefs. However, this matter could be analysed differently, which I will not delve into now.

A behaviour I, as the writer, observed in ordinary Mappilas and other locals in earlier times was spitting with a guttural sound. This does not seem to be a practice derived from Islam. It is understood that local Islam could not suppress this behaviour.

It is unclear whether fundamental Islam addresses such spitting. However, it is known that Islam prescribes various corrections to personal behaviours.

Teaching in Indian schools by local individuals is similar. Many English language teachers would not even consider instructing students to avoid shaking their legs or slouching in chairs. Some might even question what such behaviours have to do with learning English. Moreover, they themselves might shake their legs while sitting and vehemently argue that there is nothing wrong with it.

It is unknown whether Saiyid Fazl Thangal directly undertook significant efforts to instil refined cultural values in lower-class Mappilas. While his spitting is mentioned, it does not seem that he habitually spat everywhere he went. This assessment is based on the words Mr. Conolly spoke about him.

The propagation and study of Islam among lower-class Mappilas was likely conducted by members of their own community. While this had some positive aspects, it is uncertain whether such efforts, alongside fundamental Islamic awareness, remained untainted by the local social and personal mentalities of these communities.

Saiyid Fazl Thangal and the lower-class Mappilas of South Malabar cannot be seen as the same group. Thangal was a socially elevated figure, while the lower-class Mappilas, who displayed great subservience towards him, stood at a 180° opposite pole in their mental disposition.

One is not a reflection or shadow of the other.

High-ranking Muhammadan families likely kept their women somewhat distanced from lower-class Mappilas. Similarly, Namboodiris kept their women separated from lower classes, which should be noted.

In contrast, it seems lower classes did not typically distance their women from other lower classes. The primary reason was likely that lower-class men lacked the capacity to do so. Moreover, they may not have had the cohesive family structures to maintain such separation.

However, once these lower classes embraced Islam, significant changes likely occurred. They may have become aware, like the Namboodiris, of the need to distance their women from other lower classes.

The women of Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s family likely lived distanced from lower-class Mappilas.

[VED]

The invasions by Hyder Ali and Sultan Tipu from Mysore caused significant upheavals in Malabar’s social order, leading to revolutionary disruptions without clear foundations.

It seems many who were long enslaved converted to Islam and acquired land. However, Mysore’s rule does not appear to have been welfare-oriented. Those governing Malabar on behalf of the Mysore king reportedly behaved almost like plunderers.

Below are two excerpts from the Malabar Manual:

In 1765-66 Hyder Ali paid a visit to these Nads, and his agents and his tributary, the Coimbatore Raja (Maha Deo Raj, usually styled Madavan in Malabar), afterwards till 1767-68 managed the country and levied irregular and violent contributions both on the personal and on the real property of the inhabitants.

In 1773 Chunder Row and Sreenivas Row came with troops and wrested the country from the Zamorin. By their orders the Nads were rented to Mohidin Muppan and Haidros Kutti, who collected 100 per cent of the pattam (rent), but finding that insufficient to enable them to meet their engagements, they imposed further contributions and seized personal property. Finding this means also fail, they carried some of the inhabitants to Seringapatam with whatever accounts of the pattam (rent) were extent.

These accounts suggest that some key Mysore officials were not Muhammadans. It also seems unlikely they were Hindus, as they would need to be Brahmins or Kshatriyas to be considered part of the Brahmin religious fold.

Let’s set this aside for now.

With the establishment of English rule, South Malabar’s social atmosphere appears to have become more complex. The introduction of a judicial system by the English likely caused significant confusion in the social environment.

Local feudal languages define individuals as superior or inferior, embedding a powerful code in spoken and written words. This is more enduring than inscriptions on stone. Dismissing it as mere words is a mistake.

Every societal movement adheres to these rigidly defined individual categorisations, a reality that persists today.

The English administration’s introduction of laws effectively erased this immovable social structure. Writing laws in English, using terms like You, He, and She, was a radical act of erasure.

When legal texts compress individuals from all levels into You, He, or She, those at the depths (avan or aval) and those at the heights (or or ol) are suddenly placed on the same plane.

It seems the English administration was unaware of this dynamic.

However, flattening social depths and hierarchies in this way created various issues with every step of English governance. We cannot delve into those intricacies now.

The notion that avan and or are the same, with equal dignity and rights in the state, exists only within the English language.

About seven decades after Hyder Ali’s invasion, the first communal Mappila attack on a Brahmin-side individual occurred in South Malabar. There is no likelihood that Saiyid Fazl Thangal incited this attack.

In those seven decades, lower-class individuals who converted to Islam likely underwent significant social, mental, physical, and kinship-related changes. Up to five generations may have been born in that period. However, it seems unlikely they had clear awareness of these changes. They were likely only aware of their immediate surroundings.

When CPS spoke in Tellicherry about his father’s allegiance to Gandhi, a wealthy North Indian who opposed English rule, he referenced the social freedom English governance granted to Marumakkathayam Thiyyas. CPS noted that no one had knowledge beyond their immediate environment, unaware of events even from the generation before their birth.

The situation was likely similar for South Malabar’s lower-class Mappilas. They were unaware they were breaking free from heavy chains, focusing only on the chains they still felt.

If someone told them the English were responsible for their liberation, they would quickly believe it, as fair-skinned rulers controlled the state, and their police enforced strict obedience.

Individuals typically seek to secure their social leadership, showing little interest in uncovering or sharing honest truths, a trait common among feudal language speakers.

Years ago, someone told me in English:

“You say the English did many beneficial things here, but no one feels gratitude for that. Listen, many may have helped my father, but I have no interest in knowing who they were or showing them any affection. That’s the only way to understand the good the English did here. There’s no value in saying we owe them gratitude.” END

South Malabar’s social atmosphere was undergoing upheaval in various ways. The Brahmin side likely faced internal conflicts, as did the Muhammadans.

Controlling lower-class Muhammadans was not easy, as their enthusiasm from breaking free likely persisted. Spiritual influences imposed some restraints, but they likely recognised their vast social possibilities, causing alarm among others, as the potential for avan to become or emerged.

As lower-class individuals, they faced minimal barriers requiring displays of respect or subservience, granting them significant freedom.

This is somewhat akin to comparing an IPS officer confined to an office with a police constable roaming freely, collecting subservience. However, lower-class Mappilas were not Nairs, so they lacked a Brahmin-like authority above them.

The question even arose whether Mappila farmers had landlords above them.

More issues persisted.

QUOTE from Malabar Manual:

This exaltation of the Mappilla caste enables them to make better terms with their janmis. The janmis do not fear the Hindus as a caste. Therefore Hindu tenants have to submit to terms which Mappilla tenants would not endure. And finally the result is that there is a steady movement whereby in all the Mappilla tracts the land is passing slowly but surely into the possession of the Mappillas and the Hindus are going to the wall.

The Malabar Manual records contradictory and confusing information about South Malabar’s conditions at the time. The English administration received reports that Hindus held land while Mappilas held wealth. Elsewhere, it seemed Mappila farmers were in poverty. Other accounts noted Mappila landlords evicting tenants unjustly.

The English administration struggled to understand why some Mappilas communally attacked Brahmin-side individuals. One report suggested Cherumar conversions to Islam were a cause, leading to discussions about banning such conversions.

The Brahmin side likely offered such suggestions, as Cherumar breaking free threatened the roots of their social leadership.

Reports also claimed Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s speeches were provocative, but the reality was not confined to such fragmented information.

Another overlooked aspect in these historical discussions is that, before English rule, daily brawls, stabbings, beatings, and abductions were commonplace. These were celebrated as heroic epics or law enforcement in folk songs and tales of valor.

With English rule, significant calm prevailed. In this tranquility, isolated murders caused major uproars.

Had English rule been absent, lower-class Muhammadans would likely have been slaughtered by Nairs in every petty kingdom, a stark reality.

[VED]

The reality is that laws, police, and courts alone cannot reform a society. In a population with a diabolical linguistic disposition, no matter how many beneficial measures are introduced, their reactions, interactions, and provocations will always flow through the channels carved by linguistic codes in social communication platforms.

In South Asian regions, which had existed for centuries with deeply malevolent traits, English rule introduced many of their traditions. However, these did not take root as envisioned.

Every individual needs a few subordinates, addressed as avan or inhi, to maintain social and familial dignity. Without this, upholding status is impossible.

The English administration attempted various reforms related to land ownership. However, no matter what was done, individuals who gained the right to cultivate land would lease it to those socially beneath them, aiming to secure a higher position by standing above their subordinates.

It seems this phenomenon did not exist in England. There, a person who received land for cultivation would farm it themselves and pay rent to the landlord. Both landlord and farmer interacted using the same You or He linguistic codes.

In South Asia, however, the landlord is or, while the cultivator is avan. The relationship is defined by the ingal-inhi or or-avan word codes.

Thus, an avan-inhi individual seeks to create another avan-inhi beneath them, positioning themselves as ingal-or.

The English administration could neither prevent, neutralize, weaken, nor invalidate this social phenomenon. The primary reason was their complete lack of understanding of the linguistic coding that fueled it.

In British India’s Bengal region, granting land management authority to zamindars (landlords) led to a significant social blunder. Farmland passed through multiple layers before reaching the actual cultivator.

The cultivator paid rent upfront to secure the land, often falling into the hands of moneylenders and losing nearly everything, including their womenfolk, in the process.

Before English rule, landlords had their enslaved people cultivate the land, who lived almost like semi-animals.

When English rule freed the enslaved, a new problem emerged: farmland passed through multiple layers before reaching the actual farmer.

It is understood that no local divine figure paid attention to the glaring cruelties in society. Everyone’s primary concern was their own social dignity and maintaining it through linguistic codes.

These figures focused on chanting scriptures and mantras to instill a sense of divinity in people’s minds. Those mired in poverty naturally developed intense reverence for such figures. However, these chants and mantras brought no change to society’s diabolical nature.

Meanwhile, many visitors from Britain to British India attributed the extreme poverty they witnessed to English rule.

South Asia, despite its abundant resources compared to England, was steeped in poverty. It was easy for them to believe the English Company was plundering all wealth, leaving many in poverty and subservience.

The reality, however, is that the English Company did not seize or plunder even a single Brahmin temple. (It is noted here that such plundering occurred en masse after the establishment of the Indian state.)

In Malabar, it seems farmland ownership did not pass through multiple layers as in Bengal. Clear reasons for this may be found.

Nairs were the traditional overseers of Namboodiri landlords.

Below is an excerpt from the Malabar Manual, with its context to be discussed later:

QUOTE from Malabar Manual:

The big janmis’ property is scattered widely over the face of the country and is rarely held in compact blocks capable of effective management. Most of them do not know where much of their property lies, having never even seen it.

“They do not know the persons who cultivate it, and do not concern themselves as to whether their tenants sublet or not. Most of them care nothing for the welfare of their tenants.”

Landlords have no knowledge of who cultivates their land or whether tenants sublet it. They show no concern for their tenants’ welfare.

And the tenants are, as a rule, largely in arrears with their rents. Moreover, the men employed by these big janmis to manage their scattered properties are all men of common education, who get very small pay, and their chief duty is to grant receipts for rent collected.

Tenants are typically behind on rent. The overseers (Nairs) appointed by landlords to manage these properties lack significant education, are poorly paid, and their primary duty is issuing rent receipts.

This granting of receipts places large power for evil in the hands of these low-paid and ignorant agents, and they have to be bribed by the ryots in order that they may be allowed to remain in the good graces of the janmis, who in regard to local details are completely in their agents’ hands.

This authority creates significant hardship for cultivators, who must bribe these uneducated overseers to retain their farming rights. Landlords rely entirely on these overseers for information about their properties. END OF QUOTE

The social reality was beyond the English administration’s comprehension. When a Nair overseer addresses a cultivator by their mere name, or as inhi, avan, eda, or enthada, in front of their wife and children, the cultivator, clad only in a towel, must stand as a complete subordinate.

Moreover, the Nair overseer and his companions address the cultivator’s wife and children similarly, often referring to them as aittingal or eettingal (disrespectful terms for women).

Typically, a Nair overseer might exploit the women of a cultivator’s household if he finds them attractive. The cultivator is unlikely to feel significant distress, as living in a hut on the landlord’s land with his wife is considered a great fortune. There are enslaved people below him in even worse conditions.

The cultivator’s wife likely feels little resentment sharing a bed with the Nair overseer, as she sees no divinity in her avan/inhi husband. The overseer, being or, is divine, and submitting to such a figure sexually is seen as pleasurable.

This is the wretched social atmosphere the English administration sought to understand and reform.

[VED]

In South Malabar, numerous issues related to land ownership persisted within society. It seems the English officials failed to grasp the true nature of these matters.

The intricate barriers, taboos, directional codes, hierarchies, deep chasms, sharp edges, and hidden traps embedded in social communication cannot be understood from the perspective of English. This is because such elements do not exist in pristine English. That’s the reality.

Often, locals themselves interpret provocations in linguistic codes as mere disrespect. However, the issue extends far beyond such trivial interpretations.

The problem cannot be confined to the English term profanity (or ashleelavakku in Malayalam) or abusive words (or asabhyavakku in Malayalam). These definitions do not encompass the social issue at hand.

In feudal languages, indicant word codes position each individual at a specific height and distance within the social structure. To visualize this, one would need to see the design view of superhuman software codes, a tool that does not currently exist. Yet, this is an undeniable reality.

When changes occur in these indicant word codes, an individual is repositioned within the social structure. This is a tangible, psychologically felt phenomenon.

Arguments dismissing this as mere perception without basis belong to the realm of pseudoscience.

When an individual is repositioned, another profound phenomenon absent in English occurs: the individual is bound by new relational ties with numerous others. These ties exert upward pulls, downward pressures, elevations, or suppressions, transforming the person entirely. Their demeanor and mental state may either deteriorate or elevate.

When the English administration incorporated South Malabar into the newly formed Malabar district, various petty kingdoms and landlord territories were brought under a single legal framework. This likely caused significant social distress.

Families that had long held social prominence may have lost their socio-physical dominance. Those once empowered to kill or maim may have slipped into a state of mental despondency.

The general onset of social peace may have paradoxically felt like a psychological burden to them. In places accustomed to daily brawls, peace prevailed, bringing order and tranquility to all aspects of society. With this, clear laws governing agriculture were established, accompanied by proper documentation.

Some from lower classes broke free from their traditional constraints. While the English administration celebrated this development, it likely caused profound distress among local elite families.

Moreover, many lower-class individuals converting to Islam likely dismantled various social controls and hierarchies, a phenomenon that can be stated with near certainty.

The most potent yet subtle force in these events, manipulating individuals, constantly repositioning them socially, and causing mental anguish to social elites, was the word codes. It seems the English administration failed to fully comprehend this.

In the 1800s, the English administration established village offices, taluks, and tahsildars to oversee them. While English officials held top positions, the administrative machinery likely operated with a distinctly feudal linguistic mindset.

It seems it took decades for the English administration to create an officer cadre in Malabar proficient in English.

In a largely peaceful society, silent conspiracies are a reality. The English administration brought calm atop a smoldering volcano, which must be understood.

Lower-class Muhammadans likely viewed Saiyid Fazl Thangal as a divine figure and a unifying force. However, it seems unlikely that elite Muhammadan families shared this view, which is only natural.

When Henry Conolly, the Malabar District Collector, began engaging with Saiyid Fazl Thangal, it likely caused unease among some lower-class Muhammadans.

Something was deeply amiss in society, with feudal language as the clear culprit, though unrecognized. Only pristine English could eradicate this venom. Yet, every social elite likely ensured their subordinates did not learn English, a mindset consistent across religious lines.

The fear of losing Saiyid Fazl Thangal may have caused distress among some lower-class Muhammadans. However, it seems elite Muhammadan families did not align with them.

Consider this excerpt from the Malabar Manual:

On the night of the 28th February 1852 one Triyakalattil Chekku and fifteen other Mappillas of Melmuri and Kilmuri amsams in the Ernad taluk ‘set out to die and to create a fanatical outbreak.’

Information of this was given by the principal Mappillas of the former amsam at about ten o’clock that night. They and their adherents remained on guard during the whole of the night at the houses of Pilatodi Panchu Menon and Purmekad Pisharodi, the principal Hindu janmis in the amsam, and respecting the former of whom there were on several occasions rumours that Mappilla fanatics were seeking to kill him.

On the morning of Sunday the 29th, Panchu Menon hastened into Malapuram, having been alarmed by seeing some Mappillas moving on the hill at the back of his house. He applied for protection to the officer in command at Malapuram, who, deeming the danger of an attack on Panchu Menon’s house imminent, proceeded with a portion of his troops to the house, where they remained for a few hours. He left a guard of twenty-five sepoys, who were withdrawn at night, a guard of villagers being substituted.

This excerpt clearly shows that elite Muhammadans and lower-class Mappilas did not share the same social interests.

Meanwhile, the English administration was obligated to maintain law and order amidst this turmoil.

Determining which side was right remains elusive even today. Both sides had truths and faults. Yet, fueling the chaos and reveling in destruction at the center were feudal language codes, an explosive force unrecognized by all.

It’s akin to a powerful bomb placed far away, triggered by a mobile phone costing just 350 rupees. Dialing a specific number from here activates the distant phone, detonating the bomb and reducing the area to rubble.

Feudal languages possess a similar mechanism. From near or far, uttering inhi, avan, aval, or a mere name with precise intent can trigger an explosion, its magnitude proportional to the target’s social standing.

This mechanism permeates society, often causing explosions without deliberate planning. However, with calculated intent, it can ignite even military ranks, a stark reality.

[VED]

In Malabar, particularly South Malabar, communal violence erupted intermittently. Multiple factors contributed to growing tensions and psychological stress within society, each playing a role in creating social issues.

The English Company administration envisioned a secure, high-standard social structure with every step it took. However, imperceptible and invisible maneuvers were occurring within the undercurrents of society, and these needed to be identified.

When English officials, operating through the English language, forged agreements, contracts, or verbal assurances with local leaders, these commitments weakened in the local linguistic environment. When these leaders interacted with others in the local context, the assurances lost strength.

Phrases like, “Inhi podo, inte oru urappu. On inhi kodutha urappangal kandathu chaadikala” (Go away, what assurance! The promises given by avan/inhi are worthless), reduce the English side to a mere avan. Consequently, the assurance’s validity diminishes. A promise from or carries immense weight in local contexts, but when attributed to avan, it becomes worthless.

This phenomenon does not exist in English.

However, this is not the sole issue in the social atmosphere.

The enslaved lived like cattle around landlords’ fields, having lost nearly all their traditional language, culture, and spiritual practices.

If cattle, goats, or buffaloes lived freely for centuries, they could develop family bonds, communication methods, and relationships. But when isolated in human households, confined within fences or tied in fields, none of these persist. Even chance encounters yield no meaningful exchange, as their shared language fades.

YouTube videos show wild buffaloes overpowering lions, alone or in groups. Yet, in human hands, these buffaloes end up at the slaughterhouse. History rarely records them escaping or overpowering the butcher.

Imagine a movement suddenly freeing these creatures, granting them safety and room to thrive. What if they also gained the ability to challenge humans?

In South Malabar, English rule dismantled the power of local landlord families. The excesses of Nair overseers became crimes punishable by imprisonment.

Some from the lower classes were liberated as a result. However, even more gained freedom by converting to Islam, a path landlords could not legally block.

Descendants of those isolated in landlords’ fields began organizing under Islam’s banner. They engaged in trade, started ventures, and some began farming independently.

It’s akin to cattle organizing to confront humans, one might say.

This was undoubtedly a significant social issue. Yet, the English administration’s introduction of peace, cultural values, and laws likely brought relief to landlords. Simultaneously, the organization of lower classes posed a major challenge.

The English administration was aware of this issue, but likely unaware that feudal language handed explosive word codes to the lower classes.

A landlord addressing a Cheruman as inhi causes no issue. But if a Cheruman addresses a landlord as inhi, it could trigger an explosion.

Some electronic devices carry warnings: batteries must be inserted with correct polarity to avoid explosions. Similarly, reversing the poles of feudal language word codes can cause explosions. Feudal language indicant word codes have clearly designated terminals.

Inhi is for addressing a student, while ingal is for a teacher. Reversing these can ignite a massive outburst.

When cattle are insulted and retort in kind, or demean others unprovoked, or compete with household members in social settings, that’s how things unfolded.

A parallel phenomenon occurred in Travancore during the same period. Missionaries from the London Missionary Society empowered lower classes, fostering their mental growth.

However, Travancore’s administration, unbound by British-India laws, offered little room for these empowered lower classes to rise socially. This led to street conflicts. Nairs suppressed these efforts violently. Decades later, lower-class uprisings in Punnapra and Vayalar clashed with Travancore police, who ultimately gunned them down.

In South Malabar, other factors further polluted the social atmosphere.

I plan to write about these in the next piece.

[VED]

In South Malabar, some Mappilas were attacking the Brahmin faction in a communal manner. Defining this as Islamic communalism or terrorism has several shortcomings.

Society harboured some harsh realities. First, the brutal feudal language. Second, the extreme social enslavement this language itself created.

These issues were not brought into society by Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s actions. However, in a context where such issues were a constant spectacle, it is certain that his words would provoke reactions.

English-speaking rulers with a liberal disposition had taken over the administration. Slavery had been legally abolished in the region. These were monumental changes in that primitive society.

Yet, there are more matters to address, which we will explore shortly.

Now, let us refer to two distinct incidents recorded in the Malabar Manual.

The first incident occurred in North Malabar and is somewhat surprising in its small scale.

Quote from Malabar Manual:

On the night of the 28ᵗʰ April 1852, the house of Kannambat Thangal in Kottayam taluk was fired into, and the out-buildings of the Kallur temple were set on fire.

The tahsildar (a Hindu) opined that this was done by Hindus seeking to profit from the absence of the Thangal, a prominent local landlord. The Sri Kovil (shrine) and grain stores remained unharmed, supporting the tahsildar’s view.

However, the Special Commissioner, Mr. Strange, appointed by the English administration to study and recommend measures to control Mappila violence, believed this opinion was expressed to align with the views of the Collector (Mr. Conolly) rather than to report facts. Mr. Strange attributed the incident to the Mappilas.

This account should be understood as follows:

In North Malabar, a Brahmin-faction landlord’s house was attacked during his absence. However, the attack caused minimal damage.

The opinion of Henry Conolly, the Malabar District Collector, was that the Brahmin faction orchestrated the attack and attempted to pin it on the Mappilas. This suggests the English administration suspected the Brahmin faction of trying to portray the Mappilas as villains.

At the same time, the Malabar Manual indicates that Henry Conolly did not harbour significant hostility towards the Mappilas. In fact, he developed a positive opinion of Saiyid Fazl Thangal.

There seems to have been an inclination on Mr. Strange’s part to arrest Saiyid Fazl Thangal. However, Henry Conolly engaged with him through discussions instead of allowing his arrest. We will explore this further later.

It is worth noting, however, that Henry Conolly was brutally murdered by three Mappilas in his home, in front of his wife, hacked to pieces with a machete.

This indicates that the period was marked by diverse groups among the Mappilas.

There is little doubt that Henry Conolly had a mental inclination towards the Mappilas.

However, the lower-class Mappilas experienced and understood the English administration through local police and other government officials, many of whom were likely Brahmin-faction high-caste individuals or, to a lesser extent, lower-caste locals.

Generally, these officials treated those beneath them without any courtesy. This cannot be entirely blamed on them, as such discourtesy was a hallmark of feudal language.

Even if these officials did not harbour deep hostility towards lower-class Mappilas, it is likely they treated them in a degrading manner.

The English administration could not fully eradicate this social reality at the time.

Now, let us discuss another incident recorded in the Malabar Manual.

Quote from Malabar Manual:

In April-May 1852, two Cheramars (the property of Kudilil Kannu Kutti Nayar, peon of Chernad taluk), after embracing Muhammadanism, reverted to their original faith after the departure of Saiyid Fazl, through whose influence they had become converts.

In Chernad taluk, two Cheramar individuals, considered the property of Kudilil Kannu Kutti Nayar, a government peon, had converted to Islam in April-May 1852 due to Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s influence. After his departure to Arabia, they returned to their original caste.

Some Mappilas did not take kindly to this and decided to murder Kannu Kutti Nayar and the two Cheramars to become Sahids (martyrs).

Although the Nayar agreed to relinquish his claims over the Cheramars upon receiving their purchase money, the conspirators believed Kannu Kutti Nayar was solely responsible for their apostasy.

From the mindset of the English administration, far removed from the social depths where various thought patterns thrived, this was a reality.

One might question whether the reversion of two Cheramars from Islam warranted such resentment among other Mappilas. From an English perspective, the clear answer is no, as individuals in English are not bound by the complex social and personal ties found in feudal languages.

However, in feudal languages, the situation is different. Once married, an individual is layered with various titles, obligations, and respects from new people. Living in harmony with these ties is unproblematic.

But breaking free from these ties suddenly creates issues. We won’t delve into the intricacies of this now.

Consider this: a Cheraman is socially and linguistically at the lowest rung. Bringing such a person into Islam is a monumental act, something the Brahmin faction wouldn’t dare imagine even in their worst nightmares. The resolve of Islam in this regard is remarkable.

It’s akin to taking someone destined to be a police constable and making them an IPS officer. If that person then mingles with other IPS and IAS officers, joking and living among them for a time, only to decide that the life of a constable is more fulfilling and return to their village as one, the implications are profound.

If former IAS or IPS acquaintances catch wind of this person’s presence, they might flee in fear in a feudal language context. Some might even pray for their death.

For a Cheraman to fraternise in Muhammadan mosques, madrasas, and other institutions, gaining prominence, only to revert to their former cattle-like status, would likely cause significant distress among some Muhammadans.

If this Cheraman casually used terms like “Onu,” “Olu,” “Inhi,” or “Ijj” (lowest forms of address), it could trigger a silent or explosive reaction where those words land.

How much the English administration understood these subtleties is unclear. Moreover, locals may not have fully grasped the precise nature of these issues, beyond sensing some murky problem.

Even if understood, conveying this to another person or institution was challenging, as it involved describing the oppressive linguistic framework they were steeped in.

In a fecking feudal language society, an oppressed individual often sees their greatest enemy as another oppressed person, not the grand figures or institutions oppressing them. These higher figures manipulate the oppressed, pitting them against each other to foster mental competition.

This group, constantly rising and falling, cannot unite to overthrow their oppressors. This phenomenon is absent in pristine English.

Islam may have partially succeeded in lifting the lower classes from this self-destructive mindset, but it could not fully free them from their destructive linguistic framework.

[VED]

It is somewhat simplistic to say that the English Company failed to understand South Malabar. In truth, they did not fully comprehend South Asia itself.

South Asia does not exhibit the flat social landscape seen through the English language. Instead, it is a complex communicative social environment with deep chasms, vast pits, small hills, towering highlands, and patches of relatively flat terrain in between.

Caught amidst these peaks and valleys, South Asian communities live by behaving and reacting in varied ways, displaying animosities and subservience, both feigned and genuine.

While the English Company could observe these behaviours and reactions, they had no means to perceive the heights and depths of the communicative ties that bind social and personal relationships.

From 1835 to 1852, approximately 31 Mappila attacks occurred, primarily in South Malabar, with only one reportedly in Kottayam taluk in North Malabar.

Initially, attackers spared women and children, but later, they too became targets.

In some areas of South Malabar, non-Mappila communities began to experience significant fear. Before the English Company’s rule, Nairs would not tolerate revolutionary behaviour from Mappilas or lower castes. They would collectively apprehend and brutally execute such troublemakers.

In those native kingdoms, Nairs effectively served as the local ‘police force’!

However, with the advent of English Company rule, Nairs lost the ability to act or organise in this manner, and their leadership structure was dismantled.

The English Company bore immense responsibility. Failure to maintain peace would render their laws, police, courts, and systems worthless, potentially sparking uproar against them in England.

Mr. Thomas Lumsden Strange, a judge at the Sadar Adalat, was appointed by the Company government to study the issues in South Malabar and propose solutions.

He later retired as a Madras High Court judge and contributed significantly to shaping British-Indian laws.

It appears he could not grasp local languages, which likely meant the quality of information he received depended on the mindset of translators.

There is a sense that he may have held a prejudice that Mappilas were the troublemakers in South Malabar.

His long service in Malabar likely led to his appointment, with the English Company government believing he could understand the people, their culture, and their issues.

Mr. Strange was tasked with studying land-related disputes, tensions between communities the English Company labelled as Hindus and Mappilas, as well as issues involving individuals, landlords, and others, and recommending legislative measures to curb social violence.

It quickly became clear that there was a marked difference in opinion and perspective between Henry Conolly, the Malabar District Collector, and Mr. Strange.

Mr. Strange seemed intent on finding fault with the Mappilas, while Conolly disagreed with this approach. The English government had no reason to hold particular affection or animosity towards any South Asian community.

It appears Mr. Strange made remarks suggesting Conolly’s sympathy for the Mappilas clouded his judgement and assessment.

Even regarding how to view Saiyid Fazl Thangal, Henry Conolly and Mr. Strange held differing stances. However, as Mr. Strange lacked direct executive powers, he could not take legal action against Saiyid Fazl Thangal. Meanwhile, executive authority in Malabar’s administration rested with Henry Conolly.

On 25ᵗʰ September 1852, Mr. Strange submitted his report to the government. In 14 of the 31 violent incidents he studied, he identified personal provocations.

In seven cases, he suggested land disputes might have been the trigger.

For the remaining seven, he noted their causes were equally intangible, lacking connection to material realities.

Based on the information provided in the Malabar Manual, I plan to review his report in the next writing.

[VED]

Let us now briefly review Mr. Strange’s social study report. I have not seen the report itself, but it is referenced in the Malabar Manual.

First, it must be noted that in South Asia’s known historical period, it is unclear whether there was ever a tendency to study social issues and find solutions for them.

This is because society is divided along the lines of Aang (highest you) and Nee (lowest you). Moreover, this division persists across all levels from top to bottom. Right and wrong are determined by whether a person is addressed as Aang or Nee.

For example, if a doctor addresses a patient as Nee or Ningal (polite you) to inquire about their condition, no issue arises. However, if the patient addresses the doctor as Nee or Ningal, the doctor might lose composure unless they are mentally unbalanced.

This reality in South Asian social communication remains unknown to the English even today. Attempting to address social ailments without understanding this critical condition is unlikely to yield significant results.

Even today in India, the most effective remedy for social issues is large-scale armed suppression, which appears to bring profound calm to society. In contrast, treating revolutionaries courteously often leads to discourteous responses, a reality rooted in language codes.

However, the English administration did not approach problem-solving this way. They were unaware that no matter how much you elevate a subordinate, it is desirable to keep them subdued in linguistic codes as Avan (lowest he) or Aval (lowest she). They did not know that elevating someone to Avaru (highest he/she) or Adheham (highest he) could make them dangerous.

In feudal language regions, no antidote effectively alleviates social ailments. Even in Ireland, despite England’s beneficial actions, significant inequality and unrest persisted. The reason lies in the social elites who deflected blame onto England.

Quote from Mr. Strange:

It is apparent thus that in no instance can any outbreak or threat of outbreak that has arisen be attributed to the oppression of tenants by landlords.

In the southern taluks visited by Mr. Strange, the Mappila population tried to convince him that landlords were responsible for these outbreaks.

However, Mr. Strange was convinced that while instances of individual hardship to tenants might occur, Hindu landlords generally treated their tenants—whether Mappila or Hindu—mildly, equitably, and with forbearance.

It must be said that Mr. Strange understood nothing. He wrote with the air of a great moralist.

Readers should note that the term “tenant” here does not refer to a slave. Instead, it denotes someone who leases agricultural land from a landlord to cultivate. Slaves are a different category—treated almost like cattle, bought, sold, shared among landlords, or rented out, raised like semi-animals on agricultural land.

Secondly, there is an error in the term “Hindus.” Those defined as Hindus by Mr. Strange include people barred from entering temples, worshipping Hindu deities, or having any connection to Vedic or Puranic Hinduism. Instead, they have their own small-scale shamanistic deities. Defining such diverse communities under the single label of “Hindus” is utterly foolish.

Furthermore, Mr. Strange’s claim that landlords treated tenants mildly, equitably, and with forbearance is problematic.

In a Malayalam school, addressing students as Nee, Eda, Edi, Avan, or Aval causes no issue. The impact of these words is evident in the students’ expressions, behaviour, and thoughts, yet no one sees this as a problem.

However, in a school with a purely English linguistic environment, such expressions would not be seen.

This is not the issue. The problem arises if some students from a Malayalam school spend a few years in an English school environment and return. They are likely to view their teachers as an oppressive class.

Among the tenants Mr. Strange calls Hindus and Mappilas, the so-called Hindus expressed subservience to Brahmin dominance, gaining various benefits, favours, profits, and privileges through servitude. For them, the landlords’ degrading behaviour was not an issue.

Mappila tenants, however, were different. Many were descendants of lower castes who rose through Islam. Its influence may have altered their subservient traits. Additionally, some may have had Arab blood, particularly from fair-skinned Arabs.

Yet, like students from a Malayalam school who study in England but return to their old school, Mappilas were still defined as mere Malayalam school students.

However, their reactions to their teachers’ words would differ starkly from other students. They might complain that teachers lack knowledge, manners, or use disrespectful words, potentially sparking a small revolution in the school environment. Yet, they too know and speak Malayalam and are locals.

No matter who investigates why these Mappilas behave defiantly, without understanding the core issue, the findings will resemble Mr. Strange’s conclusions.

If these rebellious students claim their teachers lack knowledge, manners, or use disrespectful words, a scholar investigating might dismiss such claims as foolish nonsense, even laughable.

The scholar might wonder if studying in England instils such absurdity in individuals, noting that these students still speak the local language and use the same derogatory terms as their teachers among themselves and others.

Society operates in a feudal language. Mappilas also use this language and its derogatory terms among themselves and others. However, they lack the overt subservience towards their landlords.

The Samoothiri, on another occasion, reportedly noted that Mappilas behaved defiantly. When his officials went to collect taxes, Mappilas would brandish swords.

Whether they also hurled insults like Inhi poda (lowest you, go away) is unclear, as no record confirms this. South Asian history moves through the channels carved by such words, yet official history seems unaware of this. Even if known, it is buried under grand historical tomes taught through compulsory education, spreading such foolishness.

[VED]

Society operates within a feudal language framework. In this social environment, landlords lease agricultural land to cultivators.

When renting out land, houses, or commercial spaces, the hierarchical distinctions in feudal language codes often persist between the owner and the tenant in many places. Without displaying subservience, tenants may struggle to secure such rentals.

A tenant lacking this subservient attitude becomes undesirable, disruptive, and capable of eroding the subservience of other tenants, making them intolerable to the landlord.

If Hindu landlords leased land to Mappila cultivators under various agreements, issues likely arose. The defiance sometimes exhibited by lower-class individuals when given freedom could manifest in some Mappilas.

However, Islam may have instilled in them a strong sense of unity and brotherhood, which is no small feat. Lower-class individuals typically cannot unite or collectively confront a common enemy, as language codes foster division and deep-seated animosity among them.

Yet, when Islam envelops them like a vast blanket, the traditional rivalries among them cease to function significantly.

To illustrate, consider another example.

Today, many Indians work together in technological fields in English-speaking countries or within India. They often communicate in English, addressing each other by first names, disregarding age or job hierarchy.

In such work environments, tendencies toward rivalry, groupism, jealousy, reluctance to share knowledge, or internal political maneuvering are minimal.

English suppresses many inherent negative tendencies, fostering elevated personalities, intellect, and reasoning abilities.

However, if they were ordered to communicate only in Hindi, Tamil, Malayalam, or another local language, they would struggle to interact for days. Deciding whether to address someone by their name, Nee (lowest you), Ningal (polite you), or Sir would become a major issue.

After some time, as they revert to their local language, the destructive tendencies previously subdued by English would resurface. They would clash, scheme against each other, and either continue working or abandon their jobs, reducing the workplace to chaos.

Islam likely brought similar changes to the lower-class people of South Malabar. Compared to their ancestors, these individuals may exhibit significant mental and physical transformations.

However, high-ranking Muslim families likely viewed them with caution, handling them like live grenades. This is because they still speak the local feudal language.

Unlike English, which offers gentle words, polite expressions, and refined communication, Islam could not fully instill these beyond a certain point. It did not attempt to erase their local language. Another related point comes to mind, but I cannot delve into it now.

Local Muslim elites focused solely on self-preservation through the use of language codes. These codes, like live grenades in the hands of lower-class Mappilas, were only a concern if they exploded inward. Outward explosions posed no issue.

This approach is not unique to Islam. Today, all institutions in India using feudal languages adopt this policy.

For example, in the Indian police, subordinates must not hurl these verbal grenades at their superiors. However, they may freely toss them at the public.

Quote from Mr. Strange:

And that the Mappilla tenantry, especially of the taluks in South Malabar, where the outbreaks have been so common, are very prone to evade their obligations and to resort to false and litigious pleas.

Mr. Strange then reviewed practices like imposing fines and fees on lease renewals and granting melkanam rights to remove undesirable tenants, suggesting changes to customary rules.

He further examined the Mappila claim that destitution drove some to criminal acts.

He then remarked: “A feature that has been manifestly common to the whole of these affairs is that they have been one and all marked by the most decided fanaticism, and this, there can be no doubt, has furnished the true incentive to them.”

This may be largely true. In feudal language regions, lower-class individuals joining any movement often exhibit fanaticism, especially if the movement elevates them socially, fostering intense loyalty and obligation. This is evident in India’s communist movements, where members treat their party like a divine landlord, constantly referencing its directives.

South Malabar’s lower-class Mappilas likely had a similar mindset toward Islam. Without Islam, they would revert to fragmented locals speaking a divisive language, including descendants of Makkathaya Thiyyas to Cheramars, and some with Arab ancestry. These factors alone would not unify them.

Islam’s influence likely fostered unity and brotherhood, enabling them to rise above their inherited mental constraints.

However, it is unclear whether Islam fully eradicated their traditional lower-class behaviours and derogatory language. At best, it may have provided new expressions and creative outlets for these tendencies.

These individuals grew mentally and socially through Islam but are not replicas or copies of Muhammad, who shone centuries ago across the sea.

Their actions are driven by the pain and provocations inflicted by local social realities.

Quote from Mr. Strange:

And he then proceeded to state that the Mappillas of the interior were always lawless, even in the time of Tippu’s Government, were steeped in ignorance, and were on these accounts more than ordinarily susceptible to the teaching of ambitious and fanatical priests, using the recognised precepts of the Koran as handles for the sanction to arise and slay Kafirs, who opposed the faithful chiefly in the pursuit of agriculture.

These religious leaders, too, were subject to feudal language codes, fostering ambitions to maintain high status. They, too, are not Muhammad’s replicas.

Islam serves as a garb and weapon for them, but it does not seem they embody Islam itself.

I am not fully aware of what is written in the Koran or who authored it. I have some inklings, but as they are mere speculations, I won’t record them here.

It is said the Koran instructs to kill unbelievers. A reader once sent me numbered references to such verses.

Without knowing the context, background, or circumstances of these verses, they cannot be fairly judged.

The Bhagavad Gita also reportedly urges taking up arms, but within specific contexts and circumstances.

The Ramayana and Mahabharata can be defined as war stories.

Vedic religions from thousands of years ago in Central Asia likely included martial practices.

The Old Testament of the Bible mentions wars and abductions of women.

Communism also references armed struggle.

When rallying human groups, leaders selectively use words and doctrines to suit their needs.

Maratha leader Shivaji used Hindu texts and ideas to rise to leadership.

Lenin, Mao, and Indian communist leaders used Marxism, yet none brought humanity close to the equality it envisions.

However, English, without aiming to rally anyone, has undeniably brought profound improvements to individuals, a fact no informed person can deny.

[VED]

I have not conducted an in-depth study of the Mappila outbreaks in South Malabar during the 1800s. However, such topics occasionally catch attention while reading other materials.

Among writings by locals, some appear to be authored by those aligned with Hindu perspectives, others with Muhammadan views. Since most of these writers are considered Keralites today, there is a tendency to frame these events as part of Kerala’s history. However, in reality, these incidents predate the formation of Kerala and are specific to South Malabar’s history, with little connection to Travancore.

Those aligning with Hindu perspectives today may not necessarily be “true Hindus.” Yet, their writings often oscillate between labeling Mappilas as rogues and the British as villains, rarely suggesting that the villainous British suppressed rogue Mappilas into submission.

Conversely, writings from a Muhammadan perspective resemble live battle commentaries: evil Hindu landlords oppress society, Mappilas relentlessly fight them, the wicked British harbor deep hatred for Mappilas, and the Mappilas resist British colonial rule, only to be brutally suppressed.

It’s unclear if there are writings with greater accuracy and nuance. There may be, but this author, not having delved deeply into the subject, has not encountered them.

However, the author consistently emphasizes the role of feudal language, the sincerity of English rule, its lofty social ideals, its reliance on local elite families for governance, and issues tied to enforced respect or subservience—topics rarely addressed in such writings. Yet, these writings hint that such factors significantly fueled social and personal provocations.

As the English administration tried to impose an English-language-based justice system, it disrupted interwoven personal and social relationships, causing tensions, upheavals, and reversals. This was incomprehensible to the English.

Meanwhile, local elites and landlords employed cunning tactics to suppress these issues, which the English administration often failed to notice. Many high-ranking officials under the English were likely from local elite families, some possibly Muhammadan, but still distanced from lower-class Mappilas.

When one person works under another, leases land, or becomes indebted to them, the linguistic forms of You, He, and She create profound, almost inhuman shifts in demeanor between the parties and their associates. The English administration failed to grasp this.

Even if they did, they likely did not comprehend the staggering weight, intensity, depth, and hierarchy of these linguistic shifts.

This section aims to describe the highly complex social dynamics behind the Mappila outbreaks in South Malabar. How successfully this will be conveyed remains uncertain.

The narrative has reached an analysis of Mr. Strange’s report but not yet the point where Mr. Henry Conolly was hacked to death by Mappilas who escaped from jail. However, it may briefly leap beyond that period.

Quote from Mr. Strange:

The natural result was that ‘the Hindus, in the parts where outbreaks have been most frequent, stand in such fear of the Mappillas as mostly not to dare to press for their rights against them, and there is many a Mappilla tenant who does not pay his rent, and cannot, so imminent are the risks, be evicted. Other injuries are also put up with uncomplained of.’

This quote holds truth, but there is a deeper reality. Before English rule, the region was fragmented into numerous kingdoms, each with large households and multiple layers of people beneath them.

Each layer had defined privileges or subservience, with no issues among them. Conflicts and wars were directed only at other kingdoms, rulers, royal families, chieftains, or major landlords.

When the English neutralized these kingdoms, rulers, royals, chieftains, and landlord families, granting them pensions for comfortable lives and creating a social environment for their subordinates to rise and live with dignity, new problems emerged.

Feudal languages do not easily accommodate such emancipation.

The social reality was so distinct that the English administration could not comprehend it—a truth that persists today.

In earlier times, Indians in English-speaking countries, during their initial days, viewed the English with extreme subservience, using overly polite language. The English were unaware of another reality: in feudal languages, when Ingal (highest you) becomes Inhi (lowest you), people and their behaviors transform dramatically.

This topic will not be pursued further here.

It was extremely difficult for lower-class individuals to convey their social realities to the English administration.

The daily experiences of lower-class Mappilas were rooted in the realities of being trapped in a social abyss.

Meanwhile, their overseers—Nairs, Ambalavasis, and Hindus (including Nambudiris)—faced a different anxiety: the fear that those in the social abyss might drag them down through language codes.

Saiyid Fazl Thangal merits a brief mention here.

An English official reportedly wrote about him:

... refusing to recognize any dignity ... Just like his father, he criticized practices like kissing the hand, prostrating before the sheikh, etc.

This trait may align with core Islamic ideals and Muhammad’s mindset. However, implementing this in Malabar could unleash societal upheaval.

Saiyid Fazl reportedly instructed lower-class converts to Islam not to use Ingal—the honorific, plural You implying subservience—when addressing Nairs.

(The author infers Ingal as the word discouraged, as English sources mention an honorific you in the plural, achara vakku.)

What a spectacle! Imagine telling people today not to address police constables as Sir, or even Ningal, but as Nee. This would provoke outrage and chaos among constables.

Understand that Saiyid Fazl gave such instructions to lower-class converts to Islam. Yet, he also maintained that no one needed to show subservience to sheikhs in his homeland.

Nairs in South Malabar must have been frantic. Their only recourse was to urge the English administration to expel him, and they cannot be entirely blamed.

Had Saiyid Fazl issued such explosive instructions before English rule, one can only imagine what the Nairs would have done.

Though Nairs then held a social status akin to today’s police constables, they had the authority to slaughter lower-class individuals, serving as the law-and-order machinery, judges, and overseers of their time.

[VED]

Saiyid Fazl Thangal was a person of Arab lineage. It can be believed to some extent that he sought to exemplify and propagate Muhammad’s character traits. However, social behaviours in that region are caught and sustained in the flow of words within the local language.

Attempting to alter or reshape these through isolated examples, illustrations, or words incompatible with the local language is unlikely to be practical.

For instance, he reportedly opposed practices like kissing the hands of high-status individuals.

Yet, Mappilas intending to commit violent acts would, before embarking on their mission, visit the tomb of Taramal Thangal in Mambram to pray and kiss the hands of Saiyid Fazl Thangal, who lived nearby. They believed this was essential to their mission’s success.

QUOTE from Malabar Manual:

Fanatics then, as now, considered it almost essential to success in their enterprise that they should have visited and prayed at the Taramal Thangal’s tomb at Mambram and kissed the hand of the Thangal living in the house close by.

Muhammad exemplified social equality and elevated personality through his lifestyle, and Saiyid Fazl Thangal may have attempted to implement this in South Malabar. His instruction to lower-class individuals who embraced Islam not to address Nairs with subservient words like Ingal likely stemmed from this mindset.

However, it seems he could not effect any linguistic reform to implement this socially. Still, it is true that altering a single word could change the continued subservience of lower-class Mappilas before Nairs.

Yet, this would cause immense pain and panic among Nairs. Moreover, replacing Ingal with words like Inhi or Ijj could foster a rogue-like mindset among Mappilas.

It does not seem that core Islam aims for such a transformation.

Additionally, it is understood that Thangals of Arab lineage and other high-status Muhammadans cautioned lower-class Mappilas against using words like Inhi, Onu, or Olu toward them or their families.

Thus, while instructing not to use Ingal, Oru, or Olu with Nairs—and perhaps Nambudiris—Saiyid Fazl Thangal failed to provide alternative words that preserved social dignity for both parties.

If readers wonder what this is about, it must be said that daily social interactions occur through such subtle words.

To illustrate this mechanism, consider the raging COVID crisis in Hindi-speaking regions today.

Social interactions in India are firmly governed by rigid codes like Aang - Tu, Saab - Tu, Memsab - Tu (highest you - lowest you). These codes maintain strict discipline in parts of the social machinery.

However, when strangers must interact, it becomes unclear who occupies which status. Many refuse to place an unknown or unacceptable person in the Aang position, preferring to assign themselves Tu status.

This attitude creates issues everywhere in society.

During World War II in England, citizens rallied in every corner, calling out, “Come on Harry, Come on Jack, Come on Mike,” mobilizing the social machinery to confront German aggression.

Among them, there was only one You, one He, and one She.

In contrast, in India, exhausted from chanting the glories of Bharat, words carry multiple levels and hierarchies. From gilded towers, this might be portrayed as the great strength of Indian languages. Yet, on the streets, these varied word forms act like hammers and chisels hurled into the social machinery, driving it toward explosion.

If such a situation engulfs India, the Aang - Tu, Saab - Tu, Memsab - Tu relationship system would function effectively only within the Indian military. The government might deploy soldiers and officers to run hospitals, drive lorries, control streets, and more.

The consequences of well-paid soldiers and officers interacting directly with the public are worth considering.

Soldiers addressing officers as Tu, while officers and their families are addressed as Aang, Saab, or Memsab, are, compared to ordinary citizens, highly paid.

Military officers, meanwhile, earn astronomical salaries.

Soldiers typically interact officially with civilians only in conflict zones, like Kashmir, where they assume Aang, Saab, or Memsab status, while civilians become Tu.

If soldiers took control of hospitals, the immediate outcome would be strict discipline, compliance, and order.

If COVID were swiftly eradicated, this scenario might be celebrated in the future.

However, if COVID persists and the military’s presence continues, problems arise.

Compared to their high salaries, privileges, and authority, deciding whether to address ordinary citizens as Aang or Tu becomes a major issue.

Moreover, while soldiers view their superior officers, military doctors, nurses, and others with subservience, they may resist acknowledging the elevated status of civilian doctors, nurses, or hospital staff.

Doctors face similar issues. Without clear military guidelines on which ranks can be addressed as Tu, conflicts may arise. Some soldiers might also reject the elevated status of certain hospital staff.

Meanwhile, many civilians would readily show subservience to soldiers, which is itself problematic.

Once subservience is received, lower-status individuals undergo various behavioral shifts.

If an IPS officer publicly reprimands a police constable, head constable, or sub-inspector, it sparks intense resentment and mental turmoil, much like with soldiers.

Officers would face significant distress if a soldier, basking in newfound authority, acts superior.

As previously mentioned, being asked to fetch tea feels like an immense burden to a soldier.

Incidents of soldiers striking civilians or civilians attacking soldiers could occur.

This parallels the situation with Nairs before English rule.

Lower-class individuals dared not confront Nairs. If a Nair heard a lower-class person refer to them as Onu or Olu, they would drag them from their hut, tie them up in a secluded spot, and break their bones.

Similarly, no one dares confront or oppose soldiers, who are perceived to have powers akin to those of Nairs in bygone times.

This lengthy digression aims to highlight the dangers of attempting to reshape a social structure, shaped by communication, by merely altering a few words.

Saiyid Fazl Thangal took steps to instill personality and dignity in lower-class Mappilas. The above discussion serves as a prelude to addressing the shortcomings of those efforts.

[VED]

I have come across some writings by Muhammadan scholars about the Mappila outbreaks in South Malabar during the 1800s. These appear to be PhD doctoral theses. They seem of low quality, lacking depth, and written with poor English proficiency.

A brief note on the relevance of English proficiency: it does not seem essential to possess great English skills to understand or appreciate the beneficial nature of English rule. However, to criticise English rule and its people, claiming they lacked any merit, requires significant proficiency in English. This is because the English people and their language are profoundly distinct. A reader must understand that someone with only spoken-English proficiency evaluating them would come across as utterly rogue-like.

These writings often portray the Mappila outbreaks in South Malabar, without regard for social realities, as confrontations with cruel and hard-hearted Hindu landlords and as struggles against British colonial rule, muddling the two together.

The very definition of “Hindus” is problematic.

Moreover, these writings express sentiments about British rule in Kerala without specifically mentioning South Malabar, Malabar, or British Malabar. This is a flaw, as using the term “Kerala” in this context is absurd.

Additionally, these writings lack clear details about the two main distinct Thiyya communities in Malabar, their elite groups, and the lower-class segments within them. I also recall seeing Thiyyas referred to as Ezhavas.

It is claimed that British troops confronted the Mappila rebels. However, it seems that in the 1800s, local police and sepoys under the English Company often dealt with these incidents. Some British citizens, and occasionally continental European whites, may have been involved in small numbers. Rarely, there might have been a subtle presence of what could be defined as the British army.

Thus, the general claim that the British army confronted Mappila aggressors lacks precision. However, it seems their commanding officers were English or other British individuals.

Until 1858, Malabar was governed by the English East India Company. Thereafter, Britain directly ruled British India.

While school textbooks may not err in defining these two distinct governance systems similarly, scholarly writings that fail to note this distinction may contain significant errors.

Above all, these scholars seem to harbor a misconception that English rule and Arabs were perpetually hostile. In reality, it often seems the opposite was true. Even during World War II, some Arabs reportedly cooperated with the English. However, I lack precise information to confirm this.

It also seems unlikely that Arabs in Arab lands viewed lower-class Mappilas in Malabar as their equals. This is merely a hunch, as I lack concrete details.

Claiming the British colonial rule was utterly cruel can easily find believers today, thanks to textbooks and cinematic narratives. That’s the extent of it.

However, only a small percentage of Indians today have ancestors who lived directly under English rule. Others were slaves, retainers, or landlord families under local elites.

These Muhammadan writings note that Mappila aggressors committed severe acts of violence against Brahmin-aligned landlord families. Their justification of these acts lacks credibility, casually framing them as part of the struggle against British colonial rule.

Writing history this way is easy, but understanding social realities is crucial. In South Malabar during English rule, many lower-class individuals and families embraced Islam, facilitated by the opportunities and freedoms provided by English rule and its written laws.

It seems Brahmin-aligned landlords, their Nair overseers, and Ambalavasi families working in temples viewed lower-class Mappilas distinctly from elite Muhammadan families.

English rule operated through traditional local elite families, who referred to and addressed lower-class Mappilas in a derogatory manner.

This was not unique to lower-class Mappilas but was a reality experienced by lower-class Thiyyas and other even lower communities under Brahmin-aligned landlords. The difference is that they did not complain.

English rule had little regard for the elite officials it employed, firmly believing them to be deceitful, corrupt, lacking sincerity, and prone to betrayal when opportunities arose.

However, establishing a high-calibre administrative system overnight in a semi-primitive land was impractical. Social relationships were governed by Ingal - Inhi (highest you - lowest you) word codes. Transitioning society to a You - You relationship was no easy task.

It seems there was no communal hostility between elite Muhammadans and Brahmin-aligned landlord families. Both likely shared an interest in controlling and suppressing lower-class communities.

Under Brahmin-aligned landlords, lower-class Thiyyas, other lower communities, and lower-class Mappilas worked. Similarly, such groups likely existed under Muhammadan landlords.

On occasions when enmity arose between some Muhammadan and Brahmin-aligned landlords, Muhammadan landlords reportedly organized their lower-class Mappilas like a protection squad.

The arrival of English rule brought significant peace and stability to society, which itself became a new problem.

In this social calm, the lack of civility in individual behaviours became starkly evident. For example, I have read about an official named Komu Menon in Kottapparambu.

This individual was reportedly arrogant, rude to lower-class people, and an excessive drinker, according to a Muhammadan-aligned writing. Yet, in the reality of feudal language, he would have been highly respectful and courteous to his superiors.

As an official under English rule, his harsh treatment of lower-class people likely made him a headache for the administration. Due to an incident involving a demand to use pork in some context with lower-class Mappilas, English rule removed him from his post.

Komu Menon was a landlord in Walluvanad taluk, serving as an agent of the Walluvanad king and a traditional village official. He and his brother evicted many tenants from their agricultural land without any compassion.

A Mappila tenant named Kundatodiyil Unnirayan harboured intense resentment against them for losing his farmland. He and his friends even plotted to kill them. However, these landlords survived by leveraging the legal protections of English rule.

Note that this Mappila’s name is not a typical Islamic one.

Killing these two landlords would have ensured that many Mappila tenants’ farmlands were not lost.

On the 22ⁿᵈ of August 1851, six lower-class Mappilas attacked and killed them and their associates.

Thereafter, these aggressors attacked and killed other landlords. They also killed a Nair friend of Komu Menon, who constantly insulted lower-class Mappilas with derogatory words.

It must be emphasized that verbal insults and degradation were likely a significant societal issue. This problem likely surfaced when English rule began fostering individual dignity. Additionally, the embrace of Islam by lower-class individuals may have exacerbated this issue.

On one hand, English rule and Islam, in various ways, conveyed that all individuals share equal dignity. On the other, the local feudal language operated in complete opposition.

A feudal language lacks no shortage of degrading words. Clashes between opposing groups occur through these words. Yet, English rule often lacked immediate awareness of these ongoing conflicts.

Both opposing groups mentioned here are local communities, neither representing English rule.

Another victim of these aggressors was Kulathur Varier, a landlord. A different issue surrounded him.

This individual owned vast acres in Walluvanad, Ernad, and Palghat taluks. During Tipu Sultan’s invasions, he and his family fled to Travancore to save their lives.

When Mysore rule ended and English rule began, he and his family returned to find their lands in the possession of Mappila farmers. He evicted these farmers and reclaimed all his lost property.

Such issues newly emerged in society, and English rule was not directly responsible for them.

However, English rule was obliged to enforce the law.

[VED]

For thousands of years, various communities have ruled different parts of South Asia in diverse ways. Remember, there was no India back then.

Today, formal histories divide the past into ancient India, medieval India, and modern India for study purposes.

While this may seem useful for analysis, one must understand that the foundation of South Asian history begins with absurdity.

I won’t delve into that now.

Many communities have lived across South Asia, not only here but also in Asia and other parts of the world.

In Malabar itself, various communities claim Brahmin supremacy. Below them are different types of Ambalavasis. Beneath them, several communities have assumed Nair status. There was a significant status difference among Nairs between North and South Malabar.

Below them all, in North Malabar, were Marumakkathayam Thiyyas, and in South Malabar, Makkathayam Thiyyas. Some of these groups seem to have traces of Yavana (Greco-Roman) lineage, while others have Central Asian lineage. Local language codes artificially created further divisions within both groups into elite Thiyya and lower-class Thiyyan segments, marked by terms like Oru and Onu, or Thiyya/Thiyyan.

By the late 1800s, both Thiyya groups had slight intermingling with the bloodline of Travancore’s Ezhava community.

At the same time, it’s conceivable that both Thiyya groups had, since ancient times, mixed with certain local Malabar communities.

Below them were various other communities, layered as lower-class groups.

Many of these groups have been discussed extensively earlier in this writing. Though today they are simply written off as different castes, in reality, many were likely distinct ethnic populations that somehow arrived in Malabar from various parts of the world.

Different types of Muhammadans, Christians, and others were also linked to ethnic bloodlines from other regions.

Trapped in the grip of Malabar’s local feudal language, these groups were nailed into various social strata for centuries. Language codes dictated their facial expressions, body structures, clothing, behaviours, subservience or dominance, and speech patterns, shaping individuals and communities across generations.

There’s nothing particularly novel in this. However, when continental Europeans came here for trade, and highly informed historians began writing history, things took a different turn.

It doesn’t seem to me that the Portuguese, Dutch, or French established any significant empires in South Asia. These three groups held small administrative control over tiny coastal areas, like Mahe. That’s all. These were not empires by any measure.

Calling their presence colonial rule seems a flaw in historical writing. How to correct this flaw is unclear for now.

This issue is akin to locals referring to whites as Saayip or Maadam, reflecting a view of them as a superior race. Yet, if these locals visited Europe, these terms might feel like foolish words.

Now, regarding English rule, much has already been said in this writing. English rule in parts of South Asia requires careful and nuanced understanding.

Many highly informed individuals make historical claims by broadly labelling it “British colonial rule.”

This phrase evokes emotions and impressions concocted in Indian cinematic narratives, flooding the mind.

It conjures images of cruel murderers, plunderers, temple looters, molesters of women en masse or individually, thieves, corrupt officials, slave traders, forest devastators, gleeful hunters of wildlife, those who call Indians Nee, Eda, or Edi, force them to bow or sit on the ground, withhold knowledge, plunder resources, steal pepper, betray local kings, pit Muhammadans against Hindus to cement dominance, and so on. This single phrase, “British colonial rule,” can implant such notions in a reader’s mind.

This is a massive feat. In reality, the two English governance systems here were devoid of such vile tendencies and made immense efforts to eradicate them from this subcontinent. This refers to Malabar. Understand clearly that Travancore was not under English rule.

In writings about Taramal Thangal and Sayyid Fazl (Pookoya) Thangal, some historians use “British colonial rule” to veer away from precise historical accounts.

In truth, the English Company did not seize any territory here through premeditated aggressive campaigns. It’s a timeless truth that organized commercial enterprises gradually gain control over regions they enter, as seen with Google today.

One could view the English East India Company this way, but even this isn’t entirely accurate. I’ve previously explained why.

Entrepreneurship in feudal language speakers and in the English people operates from entirely different perspectives. I won’t delve into this now.

Like animals, human individuals exhibit common emotions such as hunger, thirst, and desire. However, those speaking planar languages like English may lack the complex emotions, thoughts, and sharp intellect found in feudal language speakers.

When feudal language speakers imagine the English through their mental framework, the resulting understanding is deeply flawed. Assuming the English share the malicious motives created by feudal language codes is a grossly erroneous notion.

If every good deed of English rule is ensnared in the interpretation of one’s malicious mindset, the resulting picture mirrors Indian cinematic narratives.

There seems to be a mental difference between Muhammadans speaking planar languages and those speaking South Asia’s feudal languages.

To understand Taramal Thangal and Sayyid Fazl Thangal, one must grasp the social conditions they reacted to.

Instead, holding the notion that today’s self-proclaimed Hindus are adversaries, factoring in modern India’s realities, and blaming the “cruel” British colonial rule phenomenon for everything fails to accurately understand or convey these two figures. This approach seems riddled with flaws.

Even Muhammadans in today’s India who speak feudal languages may struggle to fully understand these figures from their mental and social standpoint.

Viewing themselves as Onu, they see these figures through the elite lens of Oru, not the egalitarian perspective of English’s He or Him.

I am unaware of the situation in pristine Arabic.

This applies to Islam as well. A question lingers: can those speaking feudal languages, especially those at the bottom, truly understand Islam or Muhammad?

I mention these points solely from a temporal perspective on Islam. I lack any knowledge to explore Islam’s spiritual depths.

[VED]

Highly informed individuals who view Hindi imperialism in South Asia as a grand national consciousness often portray the Mappila outbreaks in Malabar as reactions to English rule and part of a national freedom struggle.

However, in the 1800s, it’s unlikely that anyone harbored notions of an Indian nation or a related national consciousness.

English authorities struggled to clearly understand the issues faced by people oppressed under landlord families.

Most English employees of the Company were themselves socially subordinate to landlords in England, experiencing a class distinction there. Yet, attempting to label them as lower-class through South Asian languages would lead to utterly foolish conclusions. In reality, they were indeed lower-class in England.

Comparing them to South Asia’s lower-class is impossible. The primary reason is that South Asia’s lower-class stands at the filthiest end of hierarchical language codes.

In contrast, England’s lower-class lives linguistically at the same You, He, She level as their elites—a sort of 5-star lower-class, if you will.

In Malabar, those who, through historical developments, ended up in lower-class positions faced daily degradation, humiliation, and constant contact with repulsive, filthy substances. This contact itself became a lived reality because language codes rigidly positioned them there.

In England, individuals also handle filthy tasks, but language does not categorize or stigmatize them as such. These are significant social realities. Local language enthusiasts pretending otherwise won’t erase them.

Living in intolerable conditions, lower-class individuals compete and clash among themselves, emotions fueled by local feudal languages.

Yet, some who embraced Islam likely underwent significant changes in themselves and their outlooks.

While many base traits of feudal language persisted in these Mappila converts, a distinct sense of brotherhood likely emerged among them.

This is a complex matter. Old English writings mention brotherhood movements in continental Europe, which the English seemed to struggle to comprehend.

Creating or sustaining such brotherhood movements in English would indeed be challenging. However, in feudal languages, such movements can foster intricate interpersonal bonds.

Simply put, words like Nee, Angunnu, Chettan, Aniyan, Chechi, Aniyathi, Thambran, Adiyalan, Mash, Guru, Shishyan, Swami, Avaru, Avan, Aval form chains linking these pillars. These chains strongly position individuals, binding them into a powerful movement. A mere word or wish from above travels downward as a weighty command.

Viewed this way, South Asia’s landlords and the layered individuals beneath them formed such a brotherhood movement.

The lowest in these movements were akin to slaves. Yet, the quality of the surrounding social environment likely reflected in individuals’ character and mindset.

The Brahmin-aligned brotherhood and the Islamic brotherhood likely differed in certain ways. Though the Islamic side operated within Malabar’s feudal language environment, Islam’s egalitarian ethos, imbued with a spiritual aura, was significant.

Another factor is Muhammad’s personality, widely regarded as Islam’s guiding figure. He reportedly disdained equating subservience with respect or basking in social grandeur.

Moreover, pristine Arabic, in some ways, seems free of feudal language traits.

Some Muhammadans of Arab lineage, like Sayyid Fazl Thangal, appear to have attempted to internalize these attitudes and promote social reform in Malabar.

He reportedly took certain actions in this regard. Though driven by good intentions to an extent, these actions may have been partly foolish and partly provocative. Moreover, while adopting this stance, he retained a linguistic shield to protect himself from the dangerous state of social equality in the local language.

Clearer details on this will be provided in the next writing.

The focus here is different. Brahmin-aligned lower-class individuals may have preferred remaining subservient under exalted figures. Meanwhile, others detached from this brotherhood to join an Islamic brotherhood, becoming its lower-class members.

Though still lower-class there, they were transforming into a different kind of lower-class.

Islam likely inserted word codes into the local language to organize them. For example, the word Ikka, meaning Chettan (elder brother), carried a distinct emotional and positional nuance.

The local feudal language would still foster competition among these Mappilas. However, Islam’s continuous teachings likely blunted its edge.

Yet, society remains dominated by a feudal language, like a festering wound. Ignoring this reality, the rise of a feudal language Islam in Malabar did not foster a peaceful environment, and with that, I conclude today’s writing.

[VED]

Society is undergoing unprecedented upheaval and fragmentation. Two distinct invasions by Mysoreans seemed to have uprooted those at the social bottom, giving the impression of lifting them upward.

However, Mysore rule did not last long. Their local officials were deeply corrupt and oppressive to the people. They do not seem to have represented any religion or spiritual doctrine.

In South Malabar, even Mappilas raised the flag of revolt against these Mysoreans, as recorded in the Malabar Manual.

After Mysore rule ended, Nair families aligned with Brahmins would, under normal circumstances, have faced little difficulty in suppressing the lower-class individuals who had risen socially. However, English rule took hold in Malabar, bringing clear regulations, written laws, police, and courts.

This left Nairs unable to act decisively in the social sphere. The profound pain of this likely went unnoticed by the English authorities.

English rule implemented some schemes to uplift the Cherumars socially, attempting to provide some with commercial and technical knowledge. However, these efforts were not effectively executed. The reason: English administration relied on local social elites as officials, who would not permit their subordinate “slaves” to rise.

One cannot entirely blame them. If the lower-class were uplifted, a person referred to as Oru (high you) would transform into Onu (low you). Similarly, someone called Olu (high she) would become Olu (low she).

If asked what this means, the clear answer is: everything hinges on this.

Some Cherumars used their newfound social freedom to try to advance. However, their relatives—mother, father, uncle, aunt, and others—would pin them back to their “address in the mire” through social stigma.

This is a major phenomenon in feudal languages.

In one region, a man wanders the streets aimlessly. His relatives? One is a doctor, another an IPS officer, another in America. Each relational link acts as a societal tether, pulling him upward, influencing word codes.

For Cherumars, the opposite is true. Word codes drag every Cherumar striving upward back into the mire.

I recall reading in the Malabar Manual that Cherumars who tried to escape this grip often returned to their own masters, unable to live independently in human society.

Many Cherumars embraced Islam, which likely felt like a stronger platform than the opportunities provided by English rule. Even Makkathayam Thiyyas joined Islam in this way. Additionally, South Malabar had elite communities and fair-skinned Arab lineage within Islam.

Both Muhammadans and others cultivated land, some with clear documentation, others possibly seizing it during societal upheavals.

Society is not inhabited by a loving populace. It comprises elite families with clear hostility and deep fear toward the lower-class.

Social communication does not operate with a single You. Instead, there are hierarchical Yous that elevate or degrade.

When a lower-class individual is evicted from their farmland, elite groups show no compassion, treating them like mere filth to be discarded.

This lower-class person, with wife, children, parents, and relatives, is left destitute. Islam can only help them to a limited extent, as it too contains hierarchical communities.

Elite Muhammadans with social prestige maintain distance from lower-class Mappilas, demanding their subservience.

What Muhammad, Islam’s guiding figure, preached is internalized by these elites only within the bounds of their selfish interests. This is because the region is steeped in feudal language. Islam cannot be imported here unaltered.

It seems Islam lacks clear mechanisms to erase linguistic flaws.

English rule established courts in Malabar to legally handle crimes and land disputes. Judges were likely English citizens or other British individuals.

They realized that in South Asia, a given word lacks unwavering value. Words sway. The reason: the value, precision, and strength of a word depend on whether the person is addressed as Adeham (high he), Ayal (mid he), or Avan (low he).

If keeping a word risks weakening one’s status in word codes, the word is denied, dismissed, ignored, or rejected.

When words addressing a person fluctuate, so do promises and assurances. The same person becomes a different He or She before different individuals, adding complexity. It seems English authorities were unaware of this.

In a region where words lack fixed value, enforcing courts and laws requires the unyielding strength of an immovable rock—laws unaffected by a person’s status or lowliness.

In an English social context, this might not need stating. But in a feudal language environment, it creates numerous issues. Society deems a person high or low, and words reflect this. Ignoring this reality renders law enforcement ineffective.

In essence, mere laws cannot bring social reform.

In South Malabar, many tenants were entangled in legal disputes. Their landlords could file and pursue cases in court, where their lawyers treated them with subservience.

Meanwhile, even the lowest court staff treated tenants with disdain and insult.

Many tenants lost their farmland.

It’s wrong to label tenants as good and landlords as evil. If these tenants became landlords, they too would act harshly toward those beneath them, driven by the impulses of local feudal language.

In feudal languages, those below are deemed dangerous. To keep them in strict obedience, they must be mentally subdued.

A statement reflecting Naxalite or radical communist ideology was reportedly made by Saiyid Fazl Thangal in a mosque sermon or similar context. Its English rendering is:

It is no sin, but a merit, to kill a janmi who evicts.

Many communist revolutionary leaders have issued similar rallying cries to their followers. Some view this as a profound maxim, a sword thrust against injustice.

Saiyid Fazl Thangal’s sincerity and compassion for the lower-class are understandable.

However, as with communists, such a pronouncement cannot mend society’s deep-seated flaws with this simplistic remedy.

Moreover, every revolutionary leader first seeks to protect their own prestige, name, and persona within feudal word codes.