There is a release date now on India’s longest running mystery. An edge-of-the-seat anticipation takes over now about the files to be declassified from January 23, 2016. The enduring mystery of the disappearance of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose will either be put to an end or more likely, given the obfuscatory nature of governments, the story will probably get even more intriguing. The Prime Minister has come to the right conclusion that the files should be declassified and placed in the public domain.
The decision, taken after much dragging of feet, may be likened to a tactical political manoeuvre given the timing of elections in West Bengal to come. But, beyond that, the decision makes a lot of sense. There is no good reason why 50 or 60-year-old files should not be thrown open to public examination, in this case microscopic scrutiny with a historical perspective as this subject belongs to the history of the freedom movement.
It is the obscurantism of successive governments ruling India since 1947 that has seen it snowball into a controversy with the nationalist’s kin pleading for decades, and then demanding, that whatever secrets are there be shared with everyone. What is there to hide on this subject for so long that it may bring about pronouncements of hell and damnation on those who decided what the government of the time knew and to keep them hidden from public view?
The imperative of posterity is good enough a reason to release the files when taking into account not only the mystique of the personality but also the various things he did for the nation, its independence from the British yoke, for peace even if he fought wars to try and establish it and probably died in its cause. The self-preservation of politicians and their successors, who were kin, may have been the single reason why a few files marked “Top Secret” have been kept sealed far beyond the sell-by date of around 50 years that is usually stamped even on historical matters of great importance.
It was pointed out in a petition asking for declassification that the “Dissentient Report” of 1956 filed by a non-official member of the Shah Nawaz Committee had disagreed with the facts and circumstances of Netaji’s death in an air crash in Taiwan in 1945. Nearly 60 years have passed since then and yet a section of official India has been steadfast in denying access to the truth.
Putting off the issue has made it a political hot potato. At stake here is whether Indians have an absolute right to the truth, or is such truth only for the elite? It took a simple act of courage from the Bengal chief minister, even if a part of her motive was political, to bell the cat.
