How does one explain Bhagat Singh’s prominence over that of his fellow martyrs? His hat portrait, and the extraordinary campaign around it, holds some of the answers
Bhagat Singh’s celebrity, over and above all other revolutionaries who gave their lives to the cause, has been a source of wonderment for some time. In the days after his execution, Jawaharlal Nehru wondered aloud how it was that “a mere chit of a boy suddenly leapt to fame”. He did not attend the gallows alone; his friends Sukhdev and Rajguru were hanged alongside him. Yet even in the months before his hanging, the condemned trio was frequently referred to as ‘Bhagat Singh and others’. How can we explain his prominence over that of his fellow martyrs, or over important members of the HSRA (Hindustan Socialist Republican Army), such as Chandrashekhar Azad? Bhagat Singh’s hat portrait, and the extraordinary campaign around it, holds some of the answers.
The photograph is a fairly conventional studio portrait. The young revolutionary-he was 21 when he posed for the photograph-stares calmly into the camera, as if to defy the empire and the weighty charges about to be brought against him, namely, that he had “been engaged in conspiracy to wage war against his Majesty, the King Emperor, and to deprive him of the Sovereignty of British India…”
Bhagat Singh knew these charges would lead to a death sentence, yet he stands cool and poised, a felt hat tipped on his head. The photograph has become an icon of defiant nationalism, widely referenced in poster art and calendars, (and) a regular feature of the contemporary urban landscape, readily encountered on cars and hoardings, in bazaars, on posters and books.
The ubiquity of the image is such that it is frequently compared to Alberto Korda’s famous photograph of Che Guevara. Both were photogenic, capturing the romance, idealism and sacrifices demanded of the revolutionary. Both photographs, too, have been so widely appropriated that they have become disconnected from their historical context. In Bhagat Singh’s case, this is partly because there is considerable uncertainty about the nature of its production. Some have assumed it was taken to be fixed to a security pass; others have speculated the police took it immediately after his arrest in 1929. Neither of these is correct.
Bhagat Singh’s photo-portrait may appeal to different viewers for any number of reasons…his youthful handsomeness, his clear, steady stare, and his rather fashionable hat, set at an angle, just so. But thinking of the photograph in Barthesian terms, “that element which rises from the scene, shoots out of it like an arrow and pierces me” is the knowledge that the dashing young man who meets our gaze will be hanged-and he knows it. The photograph becomes all the more compelling with the realisation that Bhagat Singh explicitly had it taken as a political tactic, before provoking the government of British India to seal his fate. The portrait, therefore, can be seen as both a prelude to and a vital ingredient in the widespread acceptance of him as a shaheed (martyr). This story is largely unknown and is one worth telling. Besides Bhagat Singh’s direct eye contact, perhaps the most arresting feature of the portrait is his stylish but obviously western hat. Bhagat Singh had, in order to wear the said hat, renounced his kesh (the uncut hair of a Sikh) and turban when disguising himself became vital to evading capture, in September 1928. After the widespread distribution of the photograph, Bhagat Singh’s hat would become his defining attribute. Only relatively recently have images of him wearing a turban become popular. It is important to note, however, that his Sikh heritage was explicitly acknowledged in the 1930s.
The infamous hat photograph was taken a few days prior to the action in the Legislative Assembly, probably around April 4, in the studios of Ramnath Photographers at Kashmiri Gate in Delhi. Jaidev Kapoor, the HSRA member who did much of the reconnaissance and planning for the attack, arranged (it). He specifically asked the photographer to make a memento of Bhagat Singh, specifying “our friend is going away, so we want a really good photograph of him”. B.K. Dutt was photographed on a separate occasion, but with the same instruction.
While the photographs were being developed, Bhagat Singh and Dutt were attending the Legislative Assembly on a daily basis, closely observing the debate on the Public Safety Bill; their plan was to throw the bombs at the exact moment the president of the House moved to give his ruling, which happened on the morning of April 8. A number of newspaper reporters were present in the Assembly at the time of the bombing, as were many political notables, both Indian and British, which no doubt added to the sense of excitement with which the so-called Assembly Outrage was initially carried in the press
At Ramnath Photographers, however, production was delayed and Kapoor was unable to collect the photographs before the action. Ramnath was also contracted to take photographs for the police and had been summoned to the police station in Old Delhi, where Bhagat Singh was taken after his arrest. These police photographs have not yet surfaced, but were almost certainly used, as the police “ransacked all hotels in Delhi with photographs of the accused”.
Martyrdom was very much on Bhagat Singh’s mind; he had resolved that his struggle against British imperialism would conclude in his early death. Unwilling to leave behind a widow, he had refused to marry, and had secured a solemn promise from a close friend, Jaidev Gupta, to take care of family members in his absence. He had a lucid understanding of how martyrs were made, and his work as a journalist shows that he had a strong appreciation of the utility of photography in bringing texture to a story. In 1926, he had assisted in the compilation of a special issue on the death penalty, Chand ka Phansi Ank (Chand’s Hanging Edition). Bhagat Singh had contributed entries on several revolutionaries, and he took care to see that their photographs accompanied the text. His acute awareness of the potency of martyrdom is clear in his writings. Shortly before his execution, fellow prisoners passed him a note, asking him if he preferred to live. His response was unambiguous: “My name has become a symbol of Indian revolution. ?If I mount the gallows with a smile, that will inspire Indian mothers and they will aspire that their children become Bhagat Singh. Thus the number of persons ready to sacrifice their lives will increase enormously. It will then become impossible for imperialism to face the tide of the revolution.”
Ramnath Studio’s portrait of Bhagat Singh played a major role in the above process. “It was Bhagat Singh’s desire,” Jaidev Kapoor recalled, “and mine also, that after the action the pictures would be published and distributed widely.” Kapoor reproduced and arranged for them to be delivered to major Indian-owned newspapers. In Delhi, they were hand-delivered to the Hindustan Times office by Bimal Prasad Jain, a junior worker in the HSRA. He left the packet addressed to the editor, J.N. Sahni, with a chaprasi and disappeared. “When Mr Sahni opened the envelope, I heard him shouting to the peon: ‘Go and bring that Sahib who has brought that envelope.’ But I was nowhere to be seen.”
Fear of being accused of sedition meant the photographs were not published immediately. Kapoor later “found out that all the presswallahs were waiting to see who would publish the photograph first”. It was the Lahore-based Bande Mataram that obliged, publishing the photographs on April 12. The pictures appeared not in the actual pages of the newspaper, but on a loose, one-sided poster issued inside; although an Urdu newspaper, the poster was in English. The editor, Lala Feroze Chand, was questioned by police in May after a raid on his home turned up a portrait of Bhagat Singh. Chand conceded he had agreed to publish the photographs of Bhagat Singh and Dutt. Called as a prosecution witness, Chand eventually confessed he knew Sukhdev; he did not mention he was a friend of Bhagat Singh. Decades later, in an oral history testimony, Chand reflected, “That photograph became very popular throughout the country for that was the first glimpse people had of Bhagat Singh-this young Sikh chap with a felt hat on his head.”
