Gandhi’s Struggle for Peace in Noakhali: A Journey Through Violence and Compassion

Sangram Datta: In the long, tumultuous history of India’s path to independence, some episodes stand out for the sheer intensity of human suffering they reveal. One such chapter is the Noakhali riots of 1946, a tragedy that exposed the raw fault lines between communities in Bengal on the eve of Partition. Nearly three-quarters of a century later, the incident continues to attract international attention. 

On 2 October 2019, BBC News Bangla revisited this dark chapter in a report titled “Gandhi in Noakhali: The Bloody Chapter of a Communal Massacre”, highlighting the horrors of the time and Gandhi’s courageous intervention.

A Nation on Edge
By mid-1946, undivided Bengal was a tinderbox. The Great Calcutta Killings of 16 August 1946 had claimed nearly 4,000 lives, leaving over 100,000 homeless, and the aftershocks rippled across eastern India. Suspicion and animosity between Hindus and Muslims spread like wildfire, and communal distrust became inseparable from political discourse.

In Noakhali, a coastal district in what is now Bangladesh, tensions erupted on 10 October 1946 during the festival of Kojagori Lakshmi Puja. A rumour concerning Sadhu Triyambakananda, a visiting Hindu monk, sparked violent backlash. The monk, falsely accused of claiming he would please the goddess with the blood of Muslims rather than goats, became the symbolic pretext for a massacre that was already waiting to happen in a region rife with resentment.
Markets were looted, homes torched, and landlords targeted. Rajendralal Chowdhury, a prominent zamindar, was killed when his estate was attacked. Chittaranjan Ray Chowdhury, another landlord, reportedly killed his family before taking his own life under siege. Violence quickly spread across Noakhali and neighbouring areas — Lakshmipur, Begumganj, Chhagalnaiya, and parts of Comilla — resulting in the deaths of more than 5,000 Hindus. Women faced sexual violence, and thousands were coerced into “voluntary” conversion to Islam, leaving a deep scar on the social fabric.

The Political and Social Context
To understand the full magnitude of Noakhali, one must recognise the role of Golam Sarwar Hossaini. Far from being merely a religious leader, Hossaini was a political force. As head of the Noakhali Peasants’ Association (Krishak Samiti), he championed agrarian reforms, fought against exploitative moneylenders, and sought to abolish unfair rents. His popularity among poor Muslim farmers placed him in direct conflict with the Hindu landed elite.

The Congress Party’s ambivalent approach to Hossaini — courting him briefly, then distancing itself — transformed a legitimate class struggle into a communal confrontation. Hossaini’s dual identity as a reformist leader and a religious authority complicated the situation: his influence could not be ignored, yet it provoked fear and resentment among the region’s Hindu elite.

Gandhi’s Pilgrimage of Peace
In this climate of fear and hatred, Gandhi decided to enter Noakhali, arriving in November 1946. He did not come as a politician; he came as a pilgrim of peace. Over the course of nearly three months, he walked barefoot across 116 miles, visiting 47 villages devastated by violence. He prayed with survivors, spoke to Muslim villagers, and sought to rebuild trust between communities torn apart by bloodshed.
Gandhi’s approach was deliberate and deeply personal. In each village, he listened first, offering empathy before preaching reconciliation. His methods were simple yet profound: he urged forgiveness, restraint, and the value of human life. Yet, even amidst this moral authority, his mission faced challenges.

One anecdote, highlighted in the BBC Bangla report, illustrates the tense atmosphere he confronted. Gandhi’s goat, whose milk he depended on, was stolen. Later, during a meeting with Hossaini in Chatkhil, the very goat’s cooked meat was presented before him — a gesture meant either to mock the Mahatma or to test his composure. Gandhi, characteristically, said little. He continued his peace mission, aware that symbolic gestures of defiance could not undo the real human suffering around him.

The Limits of Moral Authority
Gandhi’s efforts, though heroic, were constrained by the structural realities of the time. Violence flared again in early 1947, this time in Bihar, where Muslims were massacred in retaliation. Despite his interventions, the communal logic of revenge and the political realities of the impending Partition made his mission inherently fragile. On 2 March 1947, Gandhi left Noakhali, his work unfinished.
He expressed profound despair at the continuing plight of the region. “The situation in Noakhali is so unbearable that the Hindus must either leave — or perish,” he said, acknowledging the grim reality that moral persuasion alone could not resolve deep-seated hatred. His departure left behind a wounded land and a stark reminder that peace, even when championed by the greatest moral authority, is not easily restored in the aftermath of mass violence.

A Lesson from History
The Noakhali massacre is not merely a historical event; it is a cautionary tale. It demonstrates how freedom, pursued without reconciliation and understanding, can carry the weight of tragedy long after the guns fall silent. Gandhi’s journey through Noakhali was a testament to courage, compassion, and resilience — but also to the limits of human intervention in a society fractured by distrust and animosity.

As the BBC News Bangla report reminds us, the echoes of Noakhali continue to resonate even today, serving as a powerful reminder that the pursuit of peace requires vigilance, empathy, and the courage to confront hatred wherever it emerges. Gandhi’s pilgrimage remains a beacon for those who seek reconciliation, even in the darkest hours of human history.