NEW DELHI, January 15: The photographs at first glance are exactly what they are, photographs, that is, until the curator of this photo exhibition starts unfolding a narrative about the history behind each picture and the socio-political fabric of that time."Just as you read between the lines, you've to read what is behind the pictures too," he tells you. And what one reads is truly astounding.
Starting today, about 150 rare 19th and 20th century photographs from theatre director Ebrahim Alkazi's collection will be put on display at the Shridharani Gallery. Curated by Alkazi himself, the photo exhibition, titled "Power and Dominion" (taken from a speech by the the then Viceroy, Lord Lytton), constitute an important historical document which will be of interest to historians, photographers, artists and social scientists and all those seriously concerned about India's colonial past.
The photographs, all originals, have been collected by Alkazi over a period of time from various auctions abroad, from the
popular post-cards of the time, and from the world's oldest photographic studio Bourne and Shephard (established in 1866 in Calcutta which was burned down 12 years ago and with it were destroyed pictorial records encompassing nearly 160 years of Indian history). Most of the photographs on display are freeze-frames of the three imperial durbars of the British Raj: of 1877 under Lord Lytton; of 1903 under Lord Curzon; and 1911 under Lord Hardinge. The durbars were vast public events conducted with calculated pomp and ceremony in which the might and authority of the British Government were made manifest.
For instance, the location of the durbar itself (the Ridge) was where the Britishers had recaptured Delhi after the 1857 uprising. And by inviting the Mutiny veterans and honouring them at the same spot, the message was clear: We are in charge.
The photographs give a clear insight into the British rulers' psyche. To keep the most precious jewel in the crown intact, Alkazi tells us, the
empire had to show uncanny skill and shrewdness while dealing with the "natives", especially after the suppression of the 1857 Revolt. It then embarked on a policy of appeasement and sought to win over the Indian princes by rewarding those who had been loyal to their cause with grants of territory, titles and honours. When the Crown took over from the East India Company in 1858, the Royal Proclamation withdrew the policy of annexation and pledged to "respect the rights, dignity and honour of the Indian princes as our own."
So, in some photos you have the biggest and the mightiest Indian Maharajas bowing before the British king (George V at the Delhi durbar in 1911) and then walking back, taking care not to turn their back towards the monarchy, a telling sign of subjugation to the crown. Others show Maharaja Gaekwar of Baroda who dared to show his back to the king, published in sequence of photos, splashed in some of the major newspapers "back home". "Little wonder, the maharaja's life
was made as difficult as possible by the Britishers who, unlike the Maharaja Scindia, Nawab of Nabha and Hyderabad, had not sided with them during the 1857 revolt," says Alkazi.
There are other, chilling images of the devastating famine of 1876-77 when nearly five million people lost their lives in the two presidencies of Madras and Bengal. Alkazi highlights the impact of the photo with a stern letter from Lord Lytton to the two governors who had refused to attend the imperial assemblage (the word durbar then had not made an appearance in the English dictionary), citing the famine as the reason: "The failure of the assemblage would be more disastrous to the permanent interests of the empire than 20 famines," he wrote. Clearly, for the Crown, the durbars had a political significance that could not be underrated.
Numerous other photographs capture "the feudal, medieval and at times the exotic India" as seen from the cultured and the disciplined eyes of the British. There are pictures on
display showing the pomp and pageantry of the Indian princes coming to salute the king, on bejewelled elephant backs and gilded chariots, accompanied with gold and silver cannons.
The durbars were well publicised events with major photographers invited from around the world. The pictures were sent back home to be sold as post-cards (a most sought-after memento by those who had missed milking the jewel, Alkazi tells us) that proclaimed: "See, this is what we are trying to do, civilize the natives".
The reason for displaying his private collection to the public is simple. "I'm trying to keep it away from the sentiments and anger with which one looks at that period. But I want the facts to speak for themselves. In the past they wanted to replace our refined civilization with their own utilitarian one through military superiority. Today, they are trying to do the same by using their economic might," Alkazi says.
Copyright © 1998 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.
