Anu Kumar’s Her Name was Freedom: 35 Fearless Women Who Fought for India’s Independence, brings together the inspiring stories of the lives of some remarkable women, The book, brought out by Hachette, is a tribute to the feisty torchbearers of India’s independence movement, who left a lasting legacy for generations to come. From Sarojini Naidu to Matangini Hazra, from Aruna Asaf Ali to Rani Gaidinliu, from Muthulakshmi Reddi to Hansa Mehta, and from Annie Mascarene to Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit, the women show amazing courage in breaking their shackles and facing grave challenges to liberate the country.
Excerpts from an interview with the author:
How did the idea for the book germinate?
This is the 75th year of our independence and my Hachette editor, Vatsala Kaul-Banerjee, asked me if I’d like to work on something like this. I jumped at the offer. It was simply too exciting, I knew I’d love doing the research that it involved, to bring alive the period of our freedom struggle, to bring to life these women who were involved in it as much as the men, and who somehow, or in some cases, had been for long regarded as secondary to the movement.
What was the research process like? How long did it take?
I studied history at college and university and have been writing history-related stuff for quite some time now (across genres). So in a sense, I sort of knew how and where to look for source material and references. As for the research, I looked up primary accounts: the memoirs written by the likes of Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay, Durgabai Deshmukh, Qudsia Rasul, Kalpana Dutta, Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit, and others, evoke that period and time most vividly. Then there were other accounts by their peers—such as Yusuf Meherally writing about Aruna Asaf Ali; Jawaharlal Nehru’s Discovery of India, for example, and then newspaper accounts of the time. I also looked up secondary accounts—work by historians and writers.
How difficult was it zeroing in on the 35 names?
This was really hard, and heartbreaking to have to limit to a number. One had to do the names already familiar, such as Sarojini Naidu, Lakshmibai of Jhansi and Annie Besant, for example.
Though each story stands out on its own, which are the ones closest to your heart and why?
This is such a difficult question; I really like them all. And for the time I was writing about them, I felt thrilled and inspired to be in their company. All of them had challenging childhoods, and most faced momentous obstacles, and that was what I found most moving—whether it was Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay, Lakshmibai, Durgabai Deshmukh, Gaidinliu. I also liked the fact that so many of them made the choices they did, especially when this went against convention and popular opinion.
What were the major roadblocks in unearthing each story?
Some stories needed more digging up, I’d say. Also, I was hoping to give a complete all-round picture and yet remain succinct, and sometimes this was the more challenging part of writing. Besides, one had to crunch the complexity of an amazing life into a few pages. It was a challenge to convey this complexity in a relatively lucid way.
Do you think such books should be made mandatory course material in schools?
I hope so! Just issuing stamps and naming a programme in their memory may not be enough. There really should be more of them in school textbooks; and more books about them, maybe films, podcasts, and series too. Their stories added to the wider struggle of many others. If more women’s stories were highlighted, maybe this world would be a peaceful, kinder place, I daresay.
Why does history traditionally overlook the role of women?
For a long time, there has been a kind of patriarchal mindset in institutions, and in how history itself was interpreted and written. At one time, history was about battles and conquests, and it was all about kings and emperors, and the lands they conquered. But history is more a mosaic, with multiple strands; there are so many things involved, so many people, and so many facets, that any deeper look can reveal riches. In the story of the freedom struggle, what is important is how the struggle went hand in hand with social reform. So such aspects where women had a vital role need to be highlighted in equal measure.
In the modern era, who are the Indian women who inspire you and why?
I admire women writers and historians I’ve read: Romila Thapar, Shanta Gokhale for example, Urvashi Butalia too, and Angela Rangad, whose work in Shillong in organising labour I’ve read much about. You know, I regularly read stories that appear on the People’s Archive of Rural India site, and so many of these are about women working among the marginalised, and the poorer sections, and it’s very inspiring and moving. So is the ‘Khabar Lahariya’ initiative.
What has been your biggest takeaway from this book?
There was this realisation that political freedom could not come without emancipation on all fronts—the upliftment of women and the marginalised sections. Freedom didn’t just mean the end of British rule, but an end to oppressive social customs, including caste inequities as well.