The Embodiment of Courage, Faith, and Freedom
فرازِ دار پہ رکھتے چلو سروں کے چراغ)
(جہاں تلک یہ غموں کی سیہ رات چلے
"I am honoured to share a beautiful composition originally written in Urdu by my beloved teacher, Dr Muzaffar Hussain Syed (Dr M.H. Syed) (Alig). His words have always inspired me deeply, and I have attempted to convey their essence in English."
Translation: Babuddin Usmani
In the spirit of the verse above, the first son of the motherland and the nation who, at the very outset of the struggle for freedom, proved his patriotism, his steadfastness to principle, his youthful gallantry and unmatched courage by offering his life first — that bold and brave man was Ashfaq Ullah Khan. Undoubtedly, this self-sacrificing son of the soil, the pride of his people and nation, this earliest martyr of freedom, cannot be excised from the luminous annals of India’s struggle for independence. Our younger generation may not be fully acquainted with this freedom fighter; therefore, it is our indisputable duty to acquaint them.
To properly gauge Ashfaq Ullah Khan’s importance and to determine his rightful place in the struggle for liberty, it is essential to understand the background of his era. After the failure of India’s First War of Independence (1857) and the sorrowful end of that golden chapter, a hush settled over the land for roughly half a century. Although a few minor, localised movements continued and, after the founding of the Congress, its early leaders masked themselves in prudence and a gentle demeanour and spoke cautiously to the colonial authorities, their tone was not strident, their proposals lacked militancy, and the idea of full independence remained far from view.
Against that backdrop, on 22 October 1909 — only two months before the new century — in a period of repression, in the populous and combative countryside of Shahjahanpur, a son was born to the Pathan zamindar Shafiq Ullah Khan. He was named Ashfaq Ullah Khan; his mother was called Mazhar-un-Nisa. His parents belonged to distinguished Pathan families with long martial traditions. The bold ancestors of these families had offered numerous and unparalleled examples of courage during the Mughal period, and during British rule many members of the family served in the army or police — for, apart from soldiering, there was neither tradition nor inclination toward other occupations. Yet Ashfaq Ullah Khan was born with a singular temperament. Although many in his family, clan and settlement were part of the British apparatus, his mind would not bow to the supremacy of the English. When he opened his eyes, he saw firearms all around him and heard the elders recount tales of valour; the air was charged with rebellion. Even in the age of subjugation, signs of revolt were evident everywhere. While there were no loud proclamations yet, an undercurrent of unrest and impatience flowed through society. The British government and its bought Indian functionaries were so harsh that tongues were muzzled and movements restrained. Understandably, Ashfaq Ullah felt suffocated by this atmosphere; everywhere there was a choking staleness.
Ashfaq was the youngest among four brothers. His brothers and other young men of his age, like the youth of landed households of that era, enjoyed sport and hunting. However, one elder brother, Riyasat Ullah Khan, had a measure of taste for learning and literature, and he delighted in the company of the well-educated; his influence deeply affected Ashfaq’s intellectual development. Thus, although Ashfaq inherited courage and daring by birth and nature, his mind also inclined toward a non-Pathan pastime — poetry and rhetoric.
In the quiet life of Shahjahanpur, a small stir occurred when an Urdu revolutionary poet began literary and political activities: Pandit Ram Prasad Bismil. In the coming years, he would turn one of his couplets into a rallying cry for revolution. The couplet was:
We long now for the life of self-sacrifice in our hearts;
Let us see how much strength there is in the murderer’s arm.
سرفروشی کی تمنّا اب ہمارے دل میں ہے)
(دیکھنا ہے، زور کتنا بازوئے قاتل میں ہے
It should be noted that this couplet is commonly ascribed to Ram Prasad Bismil’s poetic thought, though the precise authorship is a subject for research; nonetheless, whatever its origin, Bismil spread the verse door to door and street to street until it became the speech of the people.
Mention of Ram Prasad Bismil is indispensable because without him, Ashfaq Ullah Khan’s story cannot be complete. Bismil was both a poet and a revolutionary. Earlier entangled in the “Mainpuri conspiracy,” he had returned to Shahjahanpur and begun a new life under the pretence of trade; he organised literary gatherings, but at heart he was the stimulant of a new kind of revolutionary activity and was absorbed in it day and night. By the way, Ashfaq’s elder brother, Riyasat Ullah Khan, had praised his former classmate Bismil so enthusiastically that Ashfaq longed to meet him. At a public meeting, he introduced himself to Bismil and declared his own love for poetry. After completing his education, Ashfaq took to poetic pursuits, first adopting the takhallus (pen-name) Warisi and later Hasrat. Bismil initially treated Ashfaq with no special attention, and their conversation was brief. Gradually, however, Ashfaq came into Bismil’s view; besides poetry circles, in private talk, Bismil drew Ashfaq into his revolutionary thinking and acquainted him with his plans for liberation. The spark hit red-hot iron: Ashfaq already detested English domination and was ever ready for action. The work moved forward; people gathered, and the caravan formed. Within a short time, a group of young men stood ready — a cadre willing to lay down their lives for the motherland, willing to make any sacrifice for freedom. Bismil led them, and Ashfaq Ullah was among the most active, the boldest, the most capable.
By then, an underground revolutionary organisation called the Hindustani Republican Army had been formed; its manifesto was titled Inquilabi (The Revolutionary), and this manifesto was being distributed widely in secret. It was the first half of the third decade of the twentieth century. Fighters like Bhagat Singh and Chandra Shekhar Azad had already entered the stage of the freedom struggle, but Ashfaq Ullah and his companions had begun earlier, and among them, the honour of being the very first to lay down his life for the cause came to Ashfaq — the first Muslim martyr of freedom in this renewed armed uprising that followed the 1857 revolt.
To continue their struggle and to purchase weapons, Bismil, Ashfaq, and their compatriots needed substantial funds — funds not easy to obtain. The great landlords and native princes, bound by loyalty and fear before the British government, did not assist; it was beyond the ordinary citizens’ capacity. Thus the plan emerged to fund their movement by looting government treasuries. The young patriots argued that an alien gang had been plundering the country and its people for two hundred years; taking from those very treasuries to finance the national cause could not be deemed illegitimate — after all, the public funds were rightfully the property of Indians. Following this thinking, in 1921, successful incidents occurred in Calcutta and Chittagong, where government coffers were seized.
Emboldened by those successes, a plan was made to rob a government treasury on a train. Secret information had reached them that several government cash boxes would soon be transported from Saharanpur to Lucknow. Thus, on 8 August 1925, a covert meeting at Shahjahanpur — attended by Bismil, Ashfaq, Chandra Shekhar Azad from Unnao, Thakur Roshan Singh and Madan Lal from Shahjahanpur, Rajinder Lahri and Manmath Nath Gupta of Banaras, Binwari Lal of Rae Bareli, Makundi Lal of Etawah, Kaship Chakravarty of Calcutta, and Sachindra Nath Sanyal from another district of Bengal — ten men in all — finalised a plan to loot the No. 8 down train carrying the treasury from Saharanpur to Lucknow the next day. The whole scheme was set, and the other comrades were informed. Because the operation was dangerous and required exquisite coordination, their preparations were meticulous.
Finally, the next day, about thirty-two miles before Lucknow, a little after Kakori station, a group of young men aboard the train pulled the emergency brake and halted the carriage. Overpowering the guard, they seized control of the truck; other revolutionaries who had hidden in the woods on both sides of the railway quickly emerged. Within moments, the entire operation was complete, and the cash-laden boxes were taken off the train. A shot was fired and, by misfortune, one passenger was killed, though the assailants had not intended to harm any passenger nor to snatch personal belongings. The action was executed with speed and precision. After the successful raid, the freedom fighters dispersed in various directions.
The following day, the whole country was shaken. The British government was stunned by the audacity of Indian youth. Thereupon, the colonial machinery began a repressive sweep. The Viceroy ordered the intelligence department to investigate the grave incident and even sought assistance from Scotland Yard in London. Remarkably swift, the investigation concluded within a month. The British police planned raids to arrest all suspects in one night: Ram Prasad Bismil was captured from Saharanpur, some men from Shahjahanpur, and others from different places. Ashfaq Ullah Khan, however, evaded the police and initially fled to Banaras, then to some unknown place in Bihar, where he temporarily found employment at an industrial concern. Thus, he remained in hiding for about ten months, then resolved to go to Delhi. He had not lost heart; he intended to renew and broaden the movement. His aims in going to Delhi were twofold: first, to meet the renowned revolutionary Lala Hardayal; second, to secure assistance for travel abroad so that external help for India’s freedom might be obtained. (The Silk Letter movement had failed, yet some countrymen abroad were still pursuing India’s cause.) Perhaps Ashfaq had similar plans in mind. Alas, that dream never came to fruition.
In Delhi, Ashfaq lodged with a Pathan friend who knew of his past activities and that he was in hiding. That traitor informed the Delhi police of Ashfaq’s presence, which led to his arrest. Like many revolutionaries, he was betrayed by someone he trusted — otherwise the forces of repression might not have reached him so quickly. The police officer who arrested him was Deputy Captain Tasaddaq Husain Khan, who attempted to exploit communal divisions and induce Ashfaq to testify against Ram Prasad Bismil, perhaps aiming to make him a state witness. But Ashfaq’s character was not that of a man to be ensnared; he refused the trap outright. When the officer argued that Bismil was a communal Hindu, Ashfaq replied sharply, cuttingly: “Khan Sahib, I know Bismil better than you. He is not that sort of man. And even if your statement were true, I believe a Hindu India would be far better than the British India in which you serve as a slave.” One can imagine the shock on the officer’s face. Ashfaq was handed over to Faizabad and imprisoned in the district jail. During incarceration, he and his comrades went on hunger strikes; they demanded to be treated as political prisoners because their actions had been directed against the government. The cruel rulers did not accept their claim.
The legal proceedings began. The first hearing took place before Judge Syed Ain-ud-Din, and the case was then transferred to a special district court presided over by British Judge A. Hamilton, where four legal experts — Abbas Salim Khan, Binwari Lal Bhargava, Gyan Chatterji and Mohammad Ayub — studied the matter and prepared the case papers. The crown appointed famous lawyer Jagat Narain Mulla as prosecutor. It is argued that the British rulers deliberately chose Jagat Narain to prosecute the revolutionaries because he bore some hostility toward Ram Prasad Bismil — a grudge dating back to an earlier incident in Lucknow — and that before the government approached him, Jagat Narain had been asked to defend the accused and had refused. It is notable that Jagat Narain was related to the Nehru family; Motilal Nehru was a towering national leader. That such a figure would prosecute the revolutionaries and not defend them was astonishing. But this was not new: he had previously been the crown’s counsel in the Mainpuri conspiracy case.
On the other side, a team of eminent defence lawyers was formed under Pandit Govind Ballabh Pant, later Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh and Union Home Minister. That defence included Mohan Lal Sukhdev, Chandra Bhan Gupta, Ajit Prasad Jain, Gopinath Sriswastav, R. M. Bahadurji, B. K. Chaudhry, and Karpa Shankar Hajela — distinguished legal minds. Interestingly, during the trial, Ram Prasad Bismil even defended himself with remarkable skill. The trial proceeded; defence counsel pleaded earnestly, but the verdict had already been decided. The court proceedings were thus a mere formality; hence, the eloquence and toil of the defence bore no fruit.
Charges were framed against a total of fourteen persons. Of these, Ashfaq Ullah Khan, Ram Prasad Bismil, Rajendra Nath Lahri, and Thakur Roshan Singh received death sentences. Others were sentenced to life imprisonment; some received fourteen years’ rigorous imprisonment; the minimum sentence was three years. Three accused — Binwari Lal, Banarsi Lal and Indu Bhushan Sultani — turned state witnesses and received two-year sentences. Some were acquitted for lack of evidence. The crown and the court exerted great pressure to persuade Ashfaq Ullah Khan to become a state witness, but, having refused from the start, he remained steadfast to the end. Additionally, a subsidiary case against Ashfaq Ullah and Sachindra Bakhshi was lodged before Special Judge J. R. W. Bennett, resulting in further sentences. Appeals to the Chief Court of Oudh were made but all penalties were upheld. The final decision was announced on 8 July 1927, and the date of execution set for 9 December 1927.
Significantly, during the trial, the prosecution presented the Hindustani Republican Army’s manifesto, Inquilabi, as evidence. Nationwide protests ensued against the judicial verdict; the Central Legislative Assembly appealed to the Viceroy to commute the death sentences to life imprisonment. Appeals were made to the Privy Council in London through the well-known English lawyer Pollock, but all proved ineffective; the death sentences stood. Among the revolutionaries implicated in the raid, Chandra Shekhar Azad was the only one who evaded police custody until the end.
In Faizabad Jail, Ashfaq Ullah spent his final days with patience, devoting himself to worship, recitation and remembrance. One eyewitness later wrote that one night, while Ashfaq was engaged in the two-part prayer in his cell, two British officers passed his dark cell; one peered in with a mocking tone and said arrogantly, “We shall see whether his faith sustains when we hang him and he dies like a rat.” Whether Ashfaq heard this taunt or not is uncertain; he continued his prayer undisturbed.
Ashfaq Ullah was an educated man with his own thinking and conviction. He believed, “Our conscience is clear. We have not committed any immoral or unlawful act. Even if we have broken the law, it is the law of an alien, usurping, tyrannical government which we do not accept. Our struggle is against foreign domination, not against the people.” During imprisonment, he regularly kept a diary, and a few of his entries are worthy of preservation as golden sayings. Consider the following:
“Patriotism brings with it all kinds of hardships and suffering; but for the one who chooses this path, all those hardships become a source of comfort and are rendered easy.”
“I have borne hardships only for my homeland.”
“No dreams remain except this: that my children, my beloved ones, should dream of the struggle for which my fate is to be expected.”
“After my death my brothers and friends will weep and lament, but I weep for their indifference and coldness toward the motherland.”
“Do not weep for my little ones; do not weep for my elders; I am alive, I am eternal.”
It is remarkable that such thoughts came from a young man who had seen only twenty-seven springs and then bid the world farewell.
Before his forced end, in a letter addressed to his mother, Ashfaq Hasrat recorded a few couplets and left a message to his descendants:
We, too, performed the deeds that were in our power;
When we performed them, we were free and in the bloom of youth.
Now whatever hopes remain, they lie with you alone —
You are young, climb to the rooftop; the sun is yours.
کئے تھے کام ہم نے بھی، جو کچھ بھی ہم سے بن پائے)
یہ باتیں جب کی ہیں، آزاد تھے اور تھا شباب اپنا
مگر اب تو جو کچھ بھی ہیں امیدیں، بس وہ تم سے ہیں
(جواں تم ہو، لبِ بام آچکا ہے، آفتاب اپنا
At last, the time for this tale of courage arrived. On the morning of 9 December 1927, after the completion of legal formalities, Ashfaq Ullah was taken to the gallows. Even at the last moment, he remained calm. He walked the brief path to execution with dignity and resolute bearing. Standing on the scaffold, he declared: “My hands are not stained with anyone’s blood; all the charges against me are false.” Then he loudly recited the kalima (the Islamic declaration of faith), prepared to meet his Lord. In a moment, the choice was made: this lamp of freedom drank the cup of martyrdom, offered his life for his nation and people, and departed this world. Yet in truth, he became alive — a shining star in the firmament whose radiance will endure. Any accurate history of India’s freedom struggle will be incomplete without mention of him. This child of the nation is immortal. Ashfaq Ullah Khan fought a just battle; a just cause’s outcome needs no argument:
Victory and defeat are matters of fate, yet, O Mir,
The weak heart put up a fine fight.
شکست و فتح، نصیبوں سے ہے ولے اے میرؔ)
(مقابلہ تو دلِ ناتواں نے خوب کیا
