The Father and the Assassin (NHB Modern Plays)

Anupama Chandrasekhar

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2022
• ISBN:
  9781788505345
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Drama
• Index: Literature

Mahatma Gandhi: lawyer, champion of non-violence, beloved leader. Nathuram Godse: journalist, nationalist – and the man who murdered him.

Anupama Chandrasekhar's play The Father and the Assassin traces Godse's life over thirty years during India's fight for independence: from a devout follower of Gandhi, through to his radicalisation and their tragic final encounter in Delhi in 1948.

An essential exploration of oppression and extremism, this gripping play opened at the National Theatre, London, in May 2022, directed by Indhu Rubasingham.

ACT ONE

1.1

Three gunshots.

NATHURAM GODSE rises from the trap, his shirt bloody.

GODSE (to us). What are you staring at? Have you never seen a murderer up close before? Take a good look. You’ve paid good money to be here. Do I look evil? I’m not, no matter what you’ve heard. I am a genuine, concerned citizen of the world who once wanted nothing more than to be a free man. To tell you the truth, you and I, we’re really not that different. I’m just a bit browner than some, that’s all. But I guarantee, once you get to know my story, once you truly understand me, I know you’ll celebrate me. Maybe even build statues in my honour. (To one of us.) Oh you have a question? You’ll have to wait. Teaches you to depend only on Wikipedia – or that fawning Attenborough film! With Sir Ben Kingsley. (To us.) It’s about time you know who I am, for I too am etched in India’s history.

GODSE snaps his fingers. Cast and RADIO ANNOUNCERS enter.

RADIO 1. This is All India Radio. Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated in New Delhi on the evening of January 30th, 1948 –

GODSE (to us). It feels like yesterday –

RADIO 2. The assassin accosted Mahatma Gandhi on the way to his evening prayer meeting and shot him thrice in the chest at point-blank range.

GODSE (to us). ‘The assassin.’ A word that gives the killer a high status because of the one he killed. Personally, I prefer the word ‘murderer’. Clean, direct.

RADIO 3. The assassin has been apprehended and handed over to the police. Investigations are on to ascertain his identity –

Lights on KISHEN, DAULAT and VIMALA. We are in a police station.

KISHEN. Vimala madam, do you know him?

DAULAT. Can you identify him?

GODSE. Go on, Vimala the Weak. Tell them who I am.

VIMALA. Yes. I’ve known him since childhood.

GODSE. Come now, let’s not exaggerate –

VIMALA. His name is Nathuram Godse. Son of retired postmaster Vinayak Godse. Editor of the Marathi newspaper Agrani in Pune. (Pause.) Your shirt. Is that…?

GODSE. Blood? Yes. – Oh it’s not mine. Dried up now. It just gushed out of his chest. I didn’t expect that. Didn’t expect so much blood from someone who’d been on a fast unto death just ten days ago!

VIMALA. You evil butcher! What have you done? He was the father of our nation –

GODSE. Oh come off it! I did the nation a good turn – I did him a good turn! I gave him a good death! Would you rather he died of incontinence? He’s a martyr now and you have me to thank for it.

KISHEN. Who planned this? Who is the mastermind?

GODSE. It was my plan, my execution, all mine – and only mine.

DAULAT. Wait a minute! (Noting it down in his little notebook.) Nathuram Godse. Nath, as in nose ring. Ram as in the god.

VIMALA. Yes.

KISHEN. Not a Muslim then.

VIMALA. No.

DAULAT. You are absolutely certain of this. We cannot misinform the Prime Minister of India.

VIMALA. He is a Hindu –

GODSE. A proud Hindu and a true nationalist!

(To us.) I am Nathuram Vinayak Godse. Journalist. Patriot. Indian. I killed Mohandas Gandhi and I have no regrets.

I’ve been waiting a long time for this! I can promise you a few things straight away: there’s a gun in my story, a trigger is pulled, and there’s blood and death – it’s a potboiler!

Shall we?

(Pause.) But where do I begin?

AAI, GODSE’s mother, in her twenties, enters in a hurry.

AAI. Nathu! Where are you hiding now?

GODSE (to us). In Baramathi, a small town in West India where drought and famine had reached our thresholds?

From another direction, MOHANDAS GANDHI enters.

Or in the farmlands of Champaran, in Central India, where he first thrust his vision on all of us?

GODSE considers both options.

Do I begin with him or with me? Is there a difference?

1.2

AAI. Gandhi who? Never heard of him!

Lights down on AAI. We are in 1917 in Champaran, with the FARMERS and GANDHI.

GODSE (to us). Gandhi, an Indian lawyer who’d had some success in the civil rights movement in South Africa.

Unknown here, but not for long. He’s here now in Champaran to see for himself the hellish conditions of the farmers. He is not the first leader the desperate farmers had invited. But he is the first who’d accepted their invitation.

FARMER 1. We are going hungry, Gandhiji. The British force us to cultivate indigo over food crops –

FARMER 2. They force us to pay exorbitant rents for the land we work.

FARMER 1. We pay taxes for every event of our lives – births, deaths – weddings!

FARMER 3. We can’t bear it any more!

GANDHI. This is exploitation, pure and simple. Your wedding is your business – well, your family’s too – The empire is a leech that is sucking us dry. We need to talk to the government.

FARMER 1. What? They’re the ones who are oppressing us!

GANDHI. We cannot hope to change our destiny if we don’t engage with the government.

FARMER 2. As if they’ll listen to native peasants!

GANDHI. Oh, we’ll make them listen! We’ll speak to all the farmers of Champaran and collect their statements, word for word. We’ll confront the government and make our demands.

FARMER 1. What if they arrest us?

GANDHI. Are you prepared to go to jail?

FARMERS (hesitantly). Yes.

GANDHI. Then I say let them arrest us. We won’t retaliate. We’re going to do this in full view of the police and the government. Without even a thought of violence.

GODSE (to us). In a nutshell –

GANDHI. Ahimsa.

GODSE (to us). Remember this word –

GANDHI. Ahimsa.

GODSE (to us). Translated, it means –

GANDHI. Non-violence.

GODSE (to us). This was the first time India heard the word in reference to a political protest. He was arrested –

GANDHI moves to the courthouse.

And produced in court.

1.3

MAGISTRATE. You’ve been charged with endangering public peace. How do you plead?

GANDHI. I plead guilty, your honour. I accept whatever punishment you wish to give me. But I’ll return to the fields of Champaran the moment I’m released from jail to continue my work with these cruelly exploited farmers.

GODSE (to us). For a moment, do think of the poor British magistrate. A huge crowd like one you’ve never seen is inside the courthouse clearly on Gandhi’s side. Gandhi, the silver-tongued lawyer, is defending himself. What is a judge to do? If he puts Gandhi in prison, there would be riots. If he didn’t put Gandhi in prison, the British would be seen as weak.

(To the MAGISTRATE.) The magistrate ordered –

MAGISTRATE. Mr Gandhi, I order you to –

GODSE. No, r...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Contents
• Original Production Details
• Dedication and Acknowledgements
• Characters
• Glossary
• Note on Play
• The Father and the Assassin
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information