Embedded deeply in the dynamics of a news daily, can a political cartoonist be a chronicler of his times, an objective compiler, and commentator of all things contemporary? Does his satirical art wriggle out of the medium’s confines to mirror society in its myriad forms? For the inquisitive crystal gazer, nothing is more nuanced than the cartoonist as a historian and the art as history.
Walking that tightrope, caught between two new nations in the making, Enver Ahmed was in the thick of action as a political cartoonist in undivided India, Pakistan and independent India. Acidic in his political satire, unrelenting in lampooning the mighty, Ahmed of 1909-1992 vintage had famously earned a reputation for caricaturing Mahatma Gandhi in the daily ‘The Dawn’. But a switch to an Indian newspaper aligned with the Congress post-partition had him change tact.
Partition, heartfelt anguish
It was a tricky time, but Ahmed negotiated the transition deftly. This was evident at a recent Indian Institute of Cartoonists (IIC) exhibition that showcased his select works. His works extended from the colonial period to post-Independence India. “Ahead of his time, he expressed his anguish at the political violence amidst which the nation-states of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh were born through bold lines and brilliant caricatures,” said an exhibition note.
Ahmed’s brushstrokes, in an animated style, echoed the political concerns, metaphors and jibes of those years. His lines, just like the ones of legends David Low and Shankar, were making an indelible mark to inspire a whole generation of satirical artists. As India’s political landscape evolved, the cartoonists were there to document and critique in ways beyond what the written word could do.
Cut to post-emergency India, and one giant political cartoonist occupied the centrestage: R K Laxman with his front page pocket cartoons. His trademark lines, accompanied by detailed captions and rough-yet-detailed characters, were often a comment on the concerns of the everyday life of the Common Man. Those works stood the test of time, as illustrated by a cartoon linked to soaring tomato prices. One caption was telling in its contemporary relevance: “She is buying half a kg of tomatoes! Must be having black money.”
Aggression, constrained
But could Laxman be seen as the ultimate documenter of the politics of his times? Independent cartoonist Satish Acharya is not so sure. “Shankar and Abu Abraham had more freedom. Laxman, maybe because of the platform he was working for, was not too aggressive, particularly in the 1990s,” he notes.
Cultural anthropologist Ritu G Khanduri, who has deep-dived into India’s cartooning history, notes that Laxman structured his plot around corruption and a set of characters. Figures of the Mantri, the Common Man and everyday life recurred, creating a sense of continuity. But Satish feels Laxman, being bigger than the newspaper, had the option to exercise more freedom. “Maybe, he restricted himself sometimes, unlike ‘Deccan Herald’s’ Ramamurthy.”
To understand the dynamics between the cartoonist and his platform, Ritu refers to Ahmed again: “In ‘Dawn’ of undivided India, they had cartoonists of the likes of Shankar, who later founded ‘Shankar’s Weekly’, ‘Vasu’, and ‘Kerala Varma’. They were all editorial cartoonists in a newspaper run by the Muslim League. Ahmed came in after all of them,” she recalls.
Post-partition, he shifted to ‘The Hindustan Times’, replacing Shankar himself. Ritu elaborates: “The newspaper, aligned to the Congress, had seen Ahmed’s ‘Dawn’ cartoons that were critical of Gandhi, and still took him in. But he stopped caricaturing Gandhi.”
Before the Emergency triggered a tectonic shift in India, pioneering political cartoonist Keshav Shankar Pillai (Shankar) had established India’s first satirical magazine, ‘Shankar’s Weekly’ in 1948. His satire were black-and-white simplistic renderings and easily recognisable caricatures of political bigwigs of his time. This was followed by his departure from ‘HT’, as his cartoons critical of C Rajagopalachari had ruffled feathers.
Fundamentally ‘anti-establishment’
‘Shankar’s Weekly’, through its long innings from 1948 to 1975, had earned a reputation for being ‘fundamentally anti-establishment’ as described by the cartoonist himself. The free spirit championed by the magazine beckoned the likes of Laxman, Rajinder Puri, Kutty, Bal Thackeray, and Yesudasan, inspiring them to flex their cartoon muscles in varying degrees of acerbic sarcasm. Puri’s cartoons had a distinct graphic style, while Yesudasan’s grasp of the peculiar features of every political face was phenomenal.
But the Emergency clipped its wings, recalls IIC curator V G Narendra, who was among the last cartoonists to draw for the Weekly. “I was working there during 1972-75. One day, after the Emergency was declared, Shankar called me and said he wouldn’t be able to bring out the weekly anymore and the magazine would have to be closed. The JP Movement was in full swing, and we were giving full support then.”
Cartoonist Abu Abraham stubbornly refused to give up his brush. He exposed the real truths of the Emergency with a mix of his characteristically simplistic drawings and writings.
A refusal to budge
Even decades later, one of Abu’s iconic works, rendered in a free-flowing drawing style, would symbolise all that was wrong with that period: A cartoon where former president Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed is shown signing the declaration of Emergency from his bathtub. “If there are any more ordinances, just ask them to wait,” he would say in a rush, echoing a compromised political system gone horribly wrong.
Cut to the present, and a question posed to Satish: 50 years from now, would a student of history look at his cartoons as a means to understand today’s politics and social undercurrents? “Compared to Laxman, Shankar or Abu, we live in a different era. Thanks to social media, we get instant reactions to our cartoons. As humans, adverse reactions affect us sometimes, impacting our works,” says Satish, whose colourful, arresting, and detailed, cartoons often spark extreme reactions from fans and trolls alike.
He is not sure if “works that strike a balance” would be a true depiction of contemporary history. “We try our best not to be affected. But it also is a reflection of the restrictions imposed by politically motivated interests.” Satish hopes the works endure as an “echo of today and their creative responses”.