What might have been…

8 January 2011

Sikkim’s history under the Chogyals was one of timid submission before militarily superior forces and submissive appeals to Tibet for support. The one bright spot was the stiff and evidently perilous resistance put up by the legendary Pagla Dewan to stop the intrigues of an ascendant Raj, writes Romit Bagchi

A PROVERB has it that had Cleopatra’s nose been shorter, the face of the world would have changed. Though history, when viewed against a classical definition, happens to record stark facts with little scope for the imagination, it is difficult to ignore the temptation of brooding over the “ifs and buts”.
   Though Henry Ford said years back that, “History is more or less bunk. It’s tradition. We don’t want tradition. We want to live in the present, and the only history that is worth a tinker’s damn is the history we make today,” a creative dissection of history as a means to inform the present remains a proud portion of academic discourse.
   Nonetheless, the history of Sikkim under the monarchical reign of the Tibet-backed Namgyals, vis-à-vis the ascending graph of English imperialism, is one of the stronger bullying the weaker into effete submission. The ruling dynasty never adequately rose to the occasion of defending itself against the muscle-flexing intrigue of the British, save for a brief period when the redoubtable Dewan (Prime Minister), Duniya Namgay (nicknamed Pagla Dewan by the crafty British) dared the fast-penetrating East India Company during the reign of the seventh Chogyal, Tshudphud Namgyal (1785-1863). Duniya, known for his pro-Tibetan stance and inveterate disdain for the British, went all out to teach the Company a lesson or two. But the Chogyal stepped back and cowered. Pagla Dewan was banished to Tibet and the Tumlong Accord was enforced in 1861, which reduced Sikkim to a subservient British ally.
   Had the Namgyal thrown his weight behind the Dewan at that critical time when Sikkim looked poised for a showdown, history might have been at least a shade different. Then again, for how long the Company’s advance into the heart of the Himalayas could have been resisted is anybody’s guess, given that it had already gained a strategic foothold in Darjeeling.
   The time was uncertain for Namgyal rule. The land deed executed by Tshudphud Namgyal gifting Darjeeling to the Company in 1835 angered Tibet. It feared the British would soon advance into the depths of the Himalayas beyond Sikkim’s frontiers – it was well known then that the Company’s design was to establish trade with Tibet. But Tibet was singularly resolved to protect its snowy solitude from any alien contamination and so punished Sikkim for exposing its jealously guarded civilisation accordingly. The Namgyal was restricted to visiting Chumbi Valley (then in Tibet, though earlier it was under Sikkim) once in eight years.
   The grazing rights of Sikkimese across its northern border were also withdrawn. And of lesser import, the exchange of gifts involving the reigning families of both countries was stopped.
The Namgyal was desperate to mend fences with Tibet.
   Placation became all the more imperative as the ruling dynasty in Sikkim had earned the wrath of two formidable neighbours on its west and east — Nepal and Bhutan. The Chogyal appointed Duniya Namgay the Dewan. Apart from being related to the Tshudphud Namgyal (he married the ruler’s daughter), he was known for his strong pro-Tibet and anti-British stance.
   He had absolute control over Sikkim’s trade with Tibet and was thus strongly disposed against any tie-up with the Company. Sikkim’s relationship with the British kept worsening at that point of time over the issue of slaves. The Raj regime outlawed the practice of slavery in Darjeeling while it was still prevalent in Sikkim.
   The latter alleged that the British had been providing shelter to slaves who migrated from Sikkim to Company-ruled Darjeeling while the British charged Sikkim with abducting its subjects from Darjeeling and selling them as slaves.
This apart, Sikkim’s vanity was outraged when the Company took away Darjeeling without giving back the land known as Deogaon (Dabgram in Jalpaiguri) as per the conditions attached to the land deed. To add insult to injury, the Company sent a double-barrelled gun, a rusted rifle and two pairs of shawls by way of thanking the Namgyal for his munificence in gifting Darjeeling to it. Besides, it even condescended to agree to an annual rent of Rs 3,000 for Darjeeling in 1841 and that, too, after several representations. The Namgyal’s appeal to accord rent from the year of the deed — 1835 — was turned down, though five years later the sum was increased to Rs 9,000.
   The brewing tension between the regimes reached a flashpoint when Darjeeling superintendent Dr A Campbell and celebrated botanist Dr Joseph Hooker decided to travel through Sikkim. Once bitten twice shy, the Namgyal was singularly reluctant to allow them passage through Sikkimese territory. Their intention, though apparently innocuous, was suspect in the eyes of the Chogyal given the bitter experience vis-à-vis the Darjeeling episode.
   Perhaps more importantly, Tibet would not take things kindly if the ruling dispensation in Sikkim buckled under Company pressure. Without categorically denying permission, the Sikkim regime made it clear it was not interested in having the two English dignitaries as guests.
   With British pride having been hurt, the duo rode to the Tibetan border up to Chola Pass. There they faced Tibetan resistance and moved back into Sikkim, where the Dewan’s men held them captive.
   Sunanda K Datta-Ray gives an amusing account in his well-known book, Smash and Grab, of what happened to the two British dignitaries. “According to Sikkimese lore, Campbell, who was bound hand and foot, began yelling ‘Hooker! Hooker! The savages are murdering me!’, whereupon one of his captors ordered, ‘If he wants hookah let him have one!’ The unfortunate superintendent was forced to the ground and Duniya Namgay’s own hookah was thrust into his mouth and held there for a considerable time.”
   The truculent Dewan’s musclemen freed the duo only after it was learnt that the Company was sending a regiment endowed with three guns. But this was not enough to keep the British contended. As was their wont, they bayed for blood. Of course, in their way; in retaliation for the humiliation inflicted on their sense of honour by the Dewan and his men, they not only stopped paying Sikkim the annual rent for Darjeeling but proceeded to annex the whole of Morang (the plains known as the Terai, which included Siliguri) and a slice of the hills. This annexation was an imperative as viewed from the standpoint of the Company. Previously, the newly acquired Darjeeling was almost a land- locked territory choked on all sides by the kingdom of Sikkim. The vast swathe of land thus annexed which ran into nearly 640 square miles helped the Company’s prized possession to become accessible to the plains up to Purnea and Rangpur.
   Prodigious as the British ego was, they were far from being assuaged by the expansion of their possession by way of annexation. They were intent on further consolidating their position in the strategic region. Besides, the desire to pay Pagla Dewan his due was also uppermost on their mind.
   The opportunity came their way as Sikkim ventured on another move to collect slaves from Darjeeling. The Company again embarked on a military venture. Led by Campbell who was licking the wounds inflicted by the Dewan’s men, a large contingent moved into Sikkim in 1860. But again the truculent shadow of the Duniya Namguay came in triumphal march. The guards on the payroll of the Sikkim durbar repulsed the move under the command of Pagla Duniya at Rinchinpong. 
   Armed with the most primitive forms of implements unimaginable, even during those times, they forced the advancing Company troops to retreat.
Some of the Company’s troops (the exact account is unavailable, for the Company spared no efforts to suppress the truth) were crushed to death as men loyal to Pagla Dewan pounced on them using stone slabs as shields. Enthused by the Company retreat, the Dewan erected camps at Namche. The much-touted military expedition led by none other than Campbell himself fizzled out thus within a few weeks.
   The ignonimous retreat made the British think in terms of entangling Sikkim deep into statutory obligations. For it remained apprehensive of the backlash from Tibet and China in case of a fresh military penetration into the country. But they were aware that with Pagla Dewan exerting influence on Sikkim’s politico-administrative structure they would have to somehow force the Chogyal into accepting a treaty, the terms and conditions of which would be designed to rob the kingdom of every semblance of sovereignty.
   Accordingly, another force consisting of nearly 2,000 men was sent into Sikkim under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel JC Gawler in 1861. The timing was significant as the Chogyal was away from the capital, spending days in Chumbi Valley under Tibetan protection. His son, Sidekong, was made successor to the throne, the intention being to force him to sign a treaty to be prepared absolutely on British terms. The previous Titaliya Treaty, along with other agreements signed from time to time, was revoked and a new one replaced it. It came to be known as the Treaty of Tumlong, signed in March 1861.
   Craftily designed, the treaty was an astute attempt to reduce Sikkim to a de facto protectorate state of the British regime while pledging to restore all of Sikkim, then under British occupation, to the Gyalpo (king) and to ensure peace and amity between the two states. But there was one condition attached unofficially. Duniya Namgay had to be banished from Sikkim. The Gyalpo was also barred from staying in Tibet for more than three months at a time. The Dewan was deported to Chumbi Valley and the principal impediment to British expansionist designs was thus removed.
The new ruler acquiesced without the least murmur. And significantly, neither Tibet nor China did anything. But remaining true to the British characteristic of forthrightness, they, albeit grudgingly, admired Pagla Dewan as “a man of considerable strength of character and real ability, a quality so rare in these parts”.
   In his report on a visit to Sikkim and the Tibetan frontier published in 1873, J Ware Edgar referred to the Dewan as “a man of great eagerness for information and a rare insight in grasping the meaning of subjects quite outside his own experience”. This is no mean tribute from those who represented the cause of British imperialism about someone who proved a formidable stumbling block in their expansionist stratagem.
   But why did the Gyalpos fail to take the lead and back the redoubtable Dewan and go all out against this alien dispensation, and that, too, at a time when soliciting support from Tibet and China was not impossible? True, both Tibet and China cowered before the ascendant British from time to time. But at least a token of solidarity from these two mighty neighbours for beleaguered Sikkim would have made the astute British think twice before moving in and coercing it into submission. Tibet, particularly the Sixth Dalai Lama, did help Sikkim in regard to the annexation drive launched by the Dev Raja of Bhutan in 1706. Before that, China and Tibet proved a deterrent to the conquering expedition made by the Gorkhas following the ascendancy of Prithvi Narayan Shah.
   The British policy from the beginning was against antagonising Tibet and China, partly because of the Company’s eagerness to open trade facilities with them and partly for the ethnic volatility and strategic significance of the Mongoloid region across the Himalayas.
In regard to Darjeeling’s accession into the Company’s holdings, higher officials were against taking things too far since the ruler was not disposed to cede it. However, later the situation changed as Company officials, entrusted with the task, achieved the “miracle” of gaining the Sikkim durbar’s agreement to their Darjeeling design. But that is another story altogether.
   However, what caused a Tibet-China reluctance to help Sikkim at that critical juncture is worth a probe. The history behind the emergence of the Namgyal dynasty as the reigning power in Sikkim under Tibetan tutelage is interesting. Sikkim, then known as a vassal colony of Tibet, preferred to remain so. The Namgyal dynasty that ascended to the throne, thanks to some Tibetan monks, had never tried to leave the Tibetan shadow in the course of its chequered history, either in matters ecclesiastical or temporal. Whenever the kingdom came under threat of attack from outside, the Chogyals escaped to Tibet without sorting out the crisis.
   Tibet was known in Sanskrit as Bhot Desh and the Tibetans were called Bhots. The advent of the Bhots in Sikkim date back to the 10th century AD. Buddhism, however, stepped into Sikkim with the arrival of the revered Guru Padma Sambhava in 747 AD. He is supposed to have “exorcised” the region of “evil spirits”, making it favorable for the advent of Buddhism. He spent several years there absorbed in meditation. He is also supposed to have wandered through the land, consecrating every place he trod for the sweeping advent of Buddhism.
   Tibetans named the place “Beyul Demazong”, meaning “hidden land of rice”. With the Tibetans arrived their Mahayana Buddhism. However, Sikkim was not a virgin place for the Tibetans or the “Bhotias”. Several tribes, particularly the Lepchas, known as the autoch thones or aboriginals, inhabited the land well before the Tibetans did. According to several eminent anthropologists, the Lepchas are not the only community to be regarded as aboriginals. There were other tribes like the Tsongs or Limboos who are supposed to have inhabited the land well before the Lepchas. Several Mongoloid tribes that were later clubbed together as Nepalis, like the Tsongs or Limboos, Gurungs, Rais, Mangars and Tamangs, had well been in Sikkim when the Lepchas arrived, perhaps from Assam or upper Burma, according to a school of anthropology.
   Tibetans started arriving in Sikkim principally by the beginning of the 10th century AD. There were several reasons that goaded them to explore the region. First of all, the migration happened for trade. For Tibet turned into a centre for trade, with several places like Gyantse and Yatung having gained eminence as hubs. This aside, a large section of the people being shepherds, exploration of fresh pastures down the Himalayas for grazing was imperative, particularly as large tracts of Tibetan lands became impassable during the bitter winters. There were also political reasons for Tibet had always been easy prey for predators. Apart from the Chinese, Turks and even Mongols invaded that land of Buddhism repeatedly. And over and above, there was a religious reason. The tracts they migrated into were devoid of any religion before their advent, according to Tibetan lore. It was full of a pagan propitiation of the darker forces of subliminal nature, they thought. According to some accounts, the Tibetan lamas burnt Lepcha scriptures, branding these as unenlightened hobnobbing with forces representing evil. They claimed to have brought the Lamaist Buddhism to cleanse the region of pagan mumbo-jumbo.
   The forbears of the first Chogyal (meaning protector of righteousness or dharma), Phuntsog came from Kham in east Tibet probably by the beginning of the 10th century AD. According to legend, three lamas assembled at a place now known as Yuksum in western Sikkim by the middle of the 17th century after traversing a lot of rugged terrain in Tibet. It is supposed that they had been guided by a prophecy made long ago that they would be instrumental in establishing the reign of dharma in the hitherto hidden land of Demazong. And the person who was to be consecrated as the first Chogyal or Dharma Raja is also supposed to have been the preordained one descending from an illustrious linage from Kham in eastern Tibet.
The coronation of Phuntsog was duly sanctified as per Mahayana Buddhist rituals and held in 1642, though some historians put the year at 1646. Even the name Namgyal was bestowed upon the linage by one of the lamas during the coronation. Since then the Namgyal dynasty kept ruling Sikkim as Tibet’s subservient proxy till May 1975 when it was merged with India. Tibet’s hold on Sikkim was so strong that China kept claiming it as part of its territory following the “annexation” of Tibet in 1959. It then gave up its claim and recognised Sikkim as part of India as late as in 2004.
   The history of Sikkim under Namgyals was one of timid submission before militarily superior forces and submissive appeals to Tibet for support. However, Tibet was not always able to come to the rescue of its de facto protectorate; weak as it was itself in military might. But perhaps the more important reason is that its colony, bereft of resilient valour, tended to buckle under the minimum pressure.
   However, the legendary Pagla Dewan put up stiff and evidently perilous resistance to the advancing intrigues of the ascendant British, even if his valiant endeavour fizzled out for lack of matching intent from mentors both in Sikkim and outside.
source: The Statesman