Air India 101, 1966 – The many mysteries at Mont Blanc

The fate of AI 101 Kanchenjunga VT - DMN is well known to many interested in Air India and to those who have studied India’s nuclear developments. Simply put, this commercial flight, a Boeing 707-437 operating between Bombay and New York via Delhi, Beirut, Geneva and Paris, took off without incident on January 23, 1966, and crashed early on the 24th during its approach to Geneva, slamming into the 15,700-foot-tall Mont Blanc on the French-Italian border. Strangely, the AI 101 crash occurred quite close—just 600 feet—to where the earlier crash involving the Air India 245 Malabar Princess happened in 1950! Both planes were approaching Geneva Airport and, during their descent, crashed, resulting in the deaths of 48 and 117 people. Among the passengers on AI 101 in 1966 was India’s nuclear scientist Homi Jehangir Bhabha, widely regarded as the "father" of India's nuclear program. 

Mont Blanc's summit lies between Italy and France, and its ownership has long been disputed by the two countries. At flight level 190 (19,000 feet; 5,800 m), the crew was instructed to descend toward Geneva International Airport. Presumably, the pilot, Joe T D’Souza, believing he had already passed Mont Blanc, began to descend too early and collided with the Mont Blanc massif in France near the Rocher de la Tournette. All 106 passengers and 11 crew members were killed. If the plane had been just 125 feet higher, it would have cleared the mountain's peak. But it was, I suppose, just unfortunate.

When Tata-owned Air India began commercial flights with Lockheed 749 Constellations in 1949, the first group of seven aircraft was named after princesses: Malabar, Rajput, Mughal, Maratha, Himalayan, Bengal, and Kashmir. Subsequently, the Rani series of super-constellations, Lockheed L-1049s, with ten in total, were introduced in the 1950s. By 1960, Air India had transitioned from propeller planes to jet aircraft, and the next eleven Boeing 707s were named after mountains. VT-DMN was part of this series and was named after Kanchenjunga, the third-highest mountain.

Before we dive into the main topic, let's briefly discuss the call sign VT-DMN, issued by the International Telecommunications Union. While V was assigned to Britain, VT was given to India (VH went to Australia) in the 1920s. After gaining independence, India continued using VT; Pakistan adopted AP; and Ceylon received VT-C (later changed to 4R). So, India’s callsign Victor Tango (VT) does not stand for Viceroy's Territory, as some have suggested.

AI101’s CFIT – Controlled flight into terrain

The crash occurred at 7:02 on the western summit ridge of Mont Blanc, at about 15,585’ at the Refuge Vallot on the Rochers de la Tournette (Tournette Spur), on the French side, at an airspeed of 350 knots (650 km/h). The last communication between Leo Schegg at Geneva ATC and Pilot D’Souza is important.

06.58.54”                101: Geneva, 101 is approaching 210.

R: Air India 101, continue your descent to flight level 190.

06.59.02”                101: 101, recleared to 190

07.00.35”                 101: 101 is approaching 190.

R: Roger, maintain unless you are able to descend VMC one thousand on top.

43”          101: OK, Sir, will do that. Descend one thousand on top. And I think we are passing abeam Mont Blanc now.

48            R: You have five miles to the Mont Blanc.

55”          101: Roger.

The aircraft wreckage, along with the bodies of the passengers and crew, was scattered across both sides of the mountain (Italian and French). Two engines were found on the French side, and two on the Italian side. The black box has not yet been recovered and is believed to have fallen onto the Miage Glacier on the Italian side. At 07:32:08, an Italian plane, 6029, reported seeing a large black cloud to the controller, presumably related to the crash.

Among the passengers were 46 sailors from SISCO – South India Shipping Corporation, flying to board their new ship Chennai Perumal and sail it home to India; 16 Belgians, including Baroness Degley from the Belgian-India association; five Americans; six Britons; and a few others. Homi Bhabha was the dignitary on the flight. Gianni Bertolli, Director of Air India for Europe; G. V. Sivaswami, Operations Superintendent of Air India’s technical operations; and James Cray, Chief Air Traffic Controller of Air India, were on board. Several monkeys—around 15—were loaded into the hold, intended either for a zoo or scientific research. It’s rumored that some monkeys survived the crash and were even seen loitering around, but died later due to the intense cold. Ted Robinson of Union Carbide, HG Shah, a student and French interpreter, and Borowsky from UNESCO were some of the others.

Commander J.T D’Souza from Goa, with approximately 14800 flight hours, was a highly experienced Air India pilot who had crossed Mont Blanc more than 50 times. He was the senior pilot who had accompanied (as co-pilot while Shirodkar was the commander) Pope Paul VI and Jacqueline Kennedy during their visits to India. With him was another highly decorated Air Force pilot, Geoffrey Charles Wilks, from Calcutta, who held a Vir Chakra medal. The Navigator was Karachi-born AM Asnani, while RC Barooah served as the flight engineer. In addition to five male cabin attendants, M. Sahany and F. Eranee were the air hostesses (Dora Lou had called in sick in Beirut and was replaced by Ms. Eranee). Twenty passengers, including Bertoli and Bhabha, were to disembark in Geneva, while fifty-four, including the 46 sailors, were scheduled to go from Paris to Bremen, Germany. G Bertoli and Bhaba knew each other; Bertoli was, in fact, related to JRD Tata (his wife, Thelma, was JRD’s sister-in-law) and was a POW in an Indian camp following WW II.

Down in the valley, the first signs of the crash came when postal mail of Indian origin came wafting down. Rescuers quickly reached the crash site and saw shattered debris, concluding that the tail and the black box had flipped over to the North/Italian side of the spur. The crash site reeked of jet fuel, and upon seeing the bodies of monkeys, the rescuers initially thought they were children. JRD Tata flew to Geneva to see what could be done. Eventually, they recovered some debris and a body — a woman identified as B Puttaiah, covered in jewels. However, there was no Puttaiah in the passenger manifest, only a Binayya. Bhaba’s briefcase was a priority, along with the black box; both were missing. In a later mission, they located the briefcase near a piece of the wing. Due to the horrible weather, further searches were abandoned. Investigations began, and conspiracy theories started to surface because the Italians refused to let the French fly to their side to inspect the debris.

Remember that this was the Cold War era. In India, after the end of the 1965 Indo-Pakistani war and Pakistan's surrender, the Tashkent Accord was signed by Prime Minister Lal Bahadur Shastri on January 10, after which he mysteriously passed away the very next day. As American involvement in Vietnam grew, Martin Luther King Jr. began his campaign, while 48-year-old Indira Gandhi took over as Indian Prime Minister on that fateful day, receiving the devastating news as she was being sworn in. In Western Europe, there was a commotion starting January 17, when America lost an H-bomb (The Palomares accident) over Spain following an air collision. 

More trips up the glacier, this time with Italians, resulted in the recovery of mail, personal effects, diplomatic pouches, and enough debris to assist with the official investigation. The black box or FDR was not recovered. Meanwhile, rumors about the involvement of an Italian air force plane in the crash intensified.

It was at this point, after a general conclusion that it was, after all, a case of pilot error—just as the authorities had called off the search—and the feeling that the French authorities were doing little, that an expert mountaineer, Rene Desmaison, saw an opportunity to mount an expedition with Philippe Real of ORTF, the French broadcaster, to see if they could manage a scoop by climbing the Italian slopes in winter, a feat never done before.

The operation was named Operation Chabert. The team discovered significant debris, including film from Italian Air Force spy turret cameras and pieces of Air Force aircraft metal that did not match commercial aircraft, especially the Boeing 707. This supported the theory that an Italian military aircraft, possibly on patrol nearby, had collided with the 707 during its descent. As they descended with footage from the expedition and collected debris in sacks, news of their activity spread, and the Italian police waited to confront the team. All materials were seized, and the French team was questioned. However, the evidence was inconclusive, and the story of Operation Chabert faded into silence. By March 1966, France withdrew from NATO, and it’s reasonable to believe the French had some reasons to blame NATO and their aircraft for issues over their territory.

More people started to believe that an Italian air force starliner had hit the 707. Among them was Jean Daniel Roche, who had often climbed the glacier over the years to collect debris, scrap, and personal effects, gathering many tons of scrap. Some of it was given away or sold by Roche. He was not alone; many homes in the Chamonix valley began displaying such crash memorabilia in their showcases.

The official report – Sept 1966

Although the report extensively discusses the ‘whiteout effect,’ where a pilot loses sight of the cloud-terrain barrier in an all-white environment and misjudges height, it concludes that the pilot's error was in calculating their location, despite a warning from the Geneva controller. However, it also notes that the whiteout phenomenon, which is very dangerous and removes any accurate perception of the outside environment and orientation, likely worsened the situation.

It also affirmed - several missions enabled the identification of the impact point, the identification and positioning of a number of parts; in particular, it was established that the nose landing gear strut was broken in compression from front to back, and that the two engines examined by the investigators were operating very shortly before the impact and that no other civilian or military aircraft was reported missing on the day and at the time of the accident.

The conclusion was:  The pilot of the VT-DMN, who knew upon departure from Beirut that one of the two VORs was out of service, incorrectly determined his position relative to Mont Blanc and informed air traffic control of his estimate; the radar controller noticed this error, correctly assessed the position of the VT-DMN, and provided the aircraft with information that, in his opinion, should have allowed the pilot to correct his position. Due to insufficiently precise phraseology, the correction was not understood by the pilot, who, mistakenly believing he had passed the mountain ridge and was still at a flight level providing a sufficient safety margin relative to the summit of Mont Blanc, continued his descent.

Ultimately, the thirteen on-site missions carried out by the gendarmes of the specialized high-mountain unit and the three expeditions conducted by the technical investigators enabled the examination of several debris fragments. The conclusion after the investigation was that it was definitely a crash into the mountain, not an explosion.

The official report also states that the pieces collected at the accident site by journalists, which led to the development of a hypothesis in the press about a collision between the Air India B.707 and an Italian fighter jet above Mont Blanc, were all identified by technical investigators on March 9 in Courmayeur as belonging to the crashed B.707. This ruled out the theory that the Italian Air Force plane collided with the Air India plane.

Meanwhile, Art Robinson, the son of Ted Robinson, a passenger, decided to investigate, as he disbelieved the official version, and also because his distraught mother had taken her own life. Art arrived in Chamonix in 1969 and, together with a climber named Claude Jaccoux, climbed the Italian side and flew up to the North Face, where he spotted a body strapped to a chair. It later turned out to be Sivaswami’s decapitated corpse. He left, concluding he had done what he could, but believing there was another cause to the crash.

It was in 2013 that Gregory Douglas published salacious interviews with Robert Crowley, a CIA staffer, on the clandestine and covert operations, where a conversation mentions that Homi Bhabha and Shastri were victims of a CIA plot. Readers must note here that the book “Conversations with the Crow is considered to be mere allegations without any evidence, or in other words, gossip.

Aftermath

The investigations included an Air India representative, following which an official report was published and accepted by Air India. The aircraft had been fully insured for approximately Rs 293 lakhs, and each passenger may have received up to Rs 40,000. The crew was paid the following: D’Souza 1.17 lakhs, Wilks Rs 92,200, Asnani Rs 72,800, Barooah Rs 78,200, and all seven cabin attendants Rs 40,000 each. I do not have details of what the other passengers received.

The Tondriau case

Julian Tondriau's family, one of the Belgian passengers, filed a case in 1968 that became a landmark example in carrier liability and the use of the Warsaw Convention Articles. The courts did not award Tondriau increased compensation but discussed the accident report at length, agreeing that although it might have been pilot error, the pilot was not reckless.

Tragedy – the mariners

Strangely, 46 sailors were on the plane headed to Bremen during the 1966 crash, while 40 were bound for Newcastle upon Tyne in the 1950 crash. Many of the sailors were from the state of Kerala, including Abdulla Kutty, Chattu, Kunji, Kutty (2), Hassan, Jayarajan, Nambiar, John, Ibrahim, Mohammed, Ramachandran, Shankarankutty, Umar, Ibrahim, and Usman. In total, the remains of over 15 Malayali corpses are scattered on the Bossons glacier overlooking the Chamonix valley. It’s unclear whether any of the 40 seamen from 1950 have ever been identified. From what I understand, SISCO, now part of Essar Shipping, may have taken travel insurance for these passengers and paid out claims in 1966. I will update the article once I learn more about them.

Cause Conclusions

Impact with an Italian Air Force Starliner - remains possible due to the nature of debris collected by the French climbers. However, it is also possible that there was an unreported crash in the past (between 1961-66), and the fragments collected may have come from that aircraft. The official report states that experts had concluded that Air India 101 did not collide with another aircraft.

CM Poonacha, replying to Biren Roy’s question (about news reports on the collision) in the Indian Parliament, stated on 9th May 1966 - We have verified them (rumors & reports), and we have definite proof to say that there was not any collision so far as this aircrash is concerned.

CIA involvement – The idea of a bomb in the hold is very unlikely. It’s quite improbable to plan the explosion exactly over Mont Blanc, as Crowley suggests. While this could happen in theory, Homi Bhabha boarded the plane on Jan 23^rd, at the last minute, changing his plans to board on the 24th. Additionally, attempting to assassinate India’s top scientist right when a new Prime Minister was taking over would have risked further alienating India from the US. Moreover, the CIA, Indian intelligence agencies, and the two governments had been working closely from 1964 to 1967 to monitor Chinese missile and nuclear activities by deploying nuclear-powered ELINTs at Nandadevi and Nandakot (Operation HAT  and Oaktree- see my articles linked under references for details). Indian Naval Officer MS Kohli and other expert mountaineers from India participated in these missions after training with CIA operatives in the USA, and the collaboration to place the ELINT at Nandakot continued well into 1967.

Pilot error – It is very difficult to believe that an experienced pilot, assisted by an expert navigator and a second pilot, could make a navigational error. Also, the VORs in a Boeing 707 are redundant, so the failure of one does not really affect direction or course determination.  A sudden downdraft must have caused the aircraft to plunge from its routine glide path and impact the mountain. Experts opine that under such ‘wave’ conditions, a downdraft of 2,000 feet/min is not exceptional. Unfortunately, this seems to be the most plausible scenario.

Aftermath

Interestingly, MS Kohli was invited in 1967 to attend a mountaineers' conference in Chamonix. As you guessed, he climbed Mont Blanc with two others and nearly lost their lives in a snowstorm, but they arrived back safely. During the ascent, they stopped at the Air India debris to pray for the souls of Bhabha and others who perished. Kohli was quite friendly with JRD Tata, and some years after his return, joined Air India, where he worked for 19 years until it was time to hang up his boots and write many interesting books.

References

Parliamentary debates 1966
Death in the Alps - Simon Akam, The Economist, Nov 18, 2019
Crash’s au Mont-Blanc: La fin des secrets? – Francoise Rey
Studies in International Air Law-selected works of Bin Cheng – Ed Chia-Jui Cheng
Homi Bhabha – A Life – Bakhtair Dadabhoy
Conversations with the Crow – Gregory Douglas

Maddy’s Ramblings – The Nanda Devi Episode , Oak tree - Intrigues at Charbatia

As Francoise Rey implies, many more secrets will be unearthed as the glacier melts and disgorges more debris and remains. I will update this when it happens.

 

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The Zamorin’s meeting with Vasco Da Gama

 Preethi Vinod Chellappan’s painting – ‘Vasco de Gama’s first audience with the Zamorin in Calicut (AD 1498)

It all started last year when I was researching the history of the Tali Temple. After getting off the auto-rickshaw, I went to the Tali Temple offices in Calicut and asked to meet the person in charge to discuss its history. The friendly man listened to my questions and said they had a few back issues of the annual souvenirs, which might be helpful. I said that was fine, and at that moment, a young man overheard our conversation and was working there. He approached us and added that if I needed information on Calicut matters, I should look for someone named “Maddy” who writes about the city's history. I was surprised and, with a gentle smile, responded that I was the very Maddy he mentioned. That’s how I met Hari-Babu, and I quickly learned he was Mohanakrishnan's brother, a friend of mine from the Zamorin family. Hari proved very helpful; he showed me the back issues, and some contained interesting articles by historians, such as KV Krishna Ayyar, MGS Narayanan, and NM Nampoothiri, to name a few.

As I was about to leave, Hari mentioned there was another matter I could assist with. A lady artist had contacted him, asking him detailed questions about the Zamorins as she worked on a painting of the Zamorin. Could he pass on my contact information? I said that wouldn't be a problem, and I would be happy to help.

This was how I got introduced to Preethi Vinod Chellappan, through the medium of choice these days – WhatsApp. We talked a few times, discussing the Zamorin, his ministers, his dress, and the palace at length. As it turned out, she was painting the historic meeting between the Portuguese explorer Vasco Da Gama and the Zamorin at Calicut in 1498. She had already done the groundwork, base sketches, etc., and was on the final stretch, but wanted the work to be as authentic as possible. The questions were numerous, and we had to dig deep and wide to get to some of the answers, like dress, appearance, ornaments, interiors of the palace, and whatnot. Preethi’s seriousness and attention to detail were heartwarming for a history enthusiast like me, and in finding answers to some of her questions, I learned a lot, too.

Today, you can see the finished painting at its home in OneKochi – just off the airport, adorning the back wall in all its glory. It’s well worth a visit, and if you're lucky, you might also get a glimpse of Neil George’s impressive art collection, which includes MF Hussain’s Kerala series, Namboothiri’s paintings, Anjolie Ela Menon, Souza, and many others. But in my opinion, the pride of the place will always be Preethi’s painting.

Generally set in the style reminiscent of the engraver of 18th-century copper engraving in Paris, Preethi’s acrylic on canvas painting is pretty large and measures 12’x10’.

This is how she describes it - Set in the hushed luminance of evening, the Zamorin Manavikrama (സാമൂതിരി), receives Portuguese navigator Vasco da Gama within the storied halls of Vikramapuram Palace, seat of Malabar’s maritime wisdom and diplomacy. Around him stand Nair nobles, warriors, and courtiers — poised between pride, wonder, and vigilance — as Kerala opens its shores to a converging world. The palace architecture echoes the rich wood-carving traditions of the era; sacred murals invoke Valayanad Devi, the Zamorin’s family deity, radiant in silent blessing. The palace I depict no longer exists; it was lost to flames in 1766. Reimagining this vanished palace through research and reverence was among the most emotionally challenging and rewarding parts of this painting. My study extended to gifts the Portuguese bore for the Zamorin, weaponry, and the golden image of Santa Maria mentioned in early writings — here rendered as a Byzantine icon. Every ornament of the Zamorin — from the conical white headgear (ഉടുത്തുകെട്ട്) to the veera shringhala anklet and pearl chain — is drawn from archival detail, honouring lineage and sovereignty.

Along the way, new historical insights reshaped the work, each correction an act of fidelity, each revelation deepening the journey. This painting is the result of months of reading, travel, archival study, and conversation with historians and archaeologists. It stands as a homage to Kerala’s enduring heritage — and to the luminous artistry that continues to tell its story.

The person who contracted her to do this is Neil George, an art lover and collector. The art district, OneKochi, which he built near Cochin Airport, is home to the magnificent painting featured above. There is much more at OneKochi, which offers luxury suites, a club lounge, a specialty pool and restaurant, and more, all designed to host a wide range of events.

Anjuly Mathai explains -The art block, consisting of a Central Gallery and two smaller galleries called Masters and Viewing Galleries, is called Gallerie AD 1498, the year Vasco Da Gama landed in Calicut, which, George believes, was a turning point in the cultural history of Kerala. His arrival changed everything—from religion and language to art and food. In the middle of the Central Gallery is a large mural by artist Preethi Chellappan, in which she depicts the arrival of Da Gama in the palace of the Zamorin.

A few words about the painter – One of the few painters and probably the only woman who does large wall murals, Bangalore-based Preethi is famed for executing her work far and wide, not only in India, but also in locales like Melbourne, Australia. A postgraduate in Physics, a school teacher, and an IT professional specializing in graphic design, she got back to her calling and took up painting. This self-taught artist (her father, too, dabbled in art, so art was surely embedded in her DNA!) rose to fame in just 7 years, mainly through ‘word of mouth’ referrals, and executed several prestigious projects.  Starting with a 14ft x 12ft charcoal mural at the ‘Aroi’ restaurant in Bangalore, Preethi continued to paint murals. Altar painting projects followed, and, as Preethi puts it, in the case of the largest mural painting in Asia at Vytilla in Kerala, working on an Altar mural of such height and width required a lot of imagination, scheduling, skill, and tons of patience. This was my first work in a church. Audiences here are the worshippers and my responsibility this time was bigger. Even though I was given a huge wall to paint on, my intention was not to gain all the attention by making it too loud but to keep it subtle and minimal. I realized that the role of my painting here is to lead devotees’ attention towards the crucifix of Jesus mounted in the center of the painting.

She adds that Paulo Coelho’s quote has always kept her going, “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

Recently, she finished a project in Melbourne, Australia, and, to meet the three-month deadline, she had to obtain a work visa, obtain certification to work on elevated platforms, and complete safety courses to meet various safety standards. In addition, to understand the concepts and details of such themes, she had to read the Bible several times and learn the intricacies of different church denominations, their preferences as well as sensitivities.

Meeting Preethi and seeing the painting

The painting was finally complete, and Preethi invited me to see it. I was humbled when she took the pains to come all the way from Bangalore, just so we could see it and revisit some of the points we had discussed during its creation. Finally, we met on a hot summer afternoon at OneKochi.

As I stood before the painting, I thought back to that fateful day in 1498, when a distant ancestor of mine was confronted with a question by a foreigner. What should I do? Should I listen to my trustworthy Arab traders, or to the translator droning on, and this scrawny sailor has to say about trade and his King Manuel? Should I trust him? The Tinayancheri Elayathu, or was it the Paranambi, must have been mumbling in his ear about how untrustworthy these blokes could be, just as it turned out.

The painting was lovely, truly awe-inspiring, and the attention to detail was clearly evident as the artist began to explain the finer points. The light streaming through the windows, the pictures on the wall, the sparkle of the jewelry, the type of palm leaf writing instrument, the trinkets brought as gifts by the Gama, and so on... I think the reader should visit One Kochi next time you're in Cochin—it's just a few minutes from the airport—and see for yourself. I was meeting Preethi after a year of correspondence, and it was truly a pleasure. I only hope this humble, immensely talented artist lands many more projects and receives all the recognition she deserves.

Nevertheless, it saddened me that Calicut still lacks a museum or any initiatives promoting its history, but, well, all of this requires foresight. Calicut seems happy to proclaim itself as Kerala’s food capital these days, rightly so, but it forgets the rich history its shores have hosted—the many communities, the various nationalities, the numerous battles. There are no signs of grand grounds or palaces, and remnants of its history are quite difficult to find. Still, I hold onto hope that one day we will get there.

I'm glad that the beautiful painting has a wonderful home where people can visit and admire it. Thanks, Preethi Vinod Chellappan, for preserving this piece of history. She is perhaps the first Indian artist to depict the Zamorin’s meeting with Gama in 1498.

That fateful meeting in 1498 was one that changed both the life and the landscape of Malabar, a story I have often written about. Gama arrived at Kappad and anchored at Pantalayani Kollam. I checked out Kappad recently, this is what it looks like, a pristine beach, for those who are curious.

In case you are interested in reading about the voyage of Gama, the preparations, the visit itself, and the aftermath, read this article of mine at ‘Journey of Objects’.

Lust for Black Gold

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Hyat Sahib, Ayaz Khan, or Velluva Kumaran

The adventures of an enslaved Nambiar from Chirakkal

Some years ago, I wrote a short note on Ayaz Khan, but it was incomplete and required much revision. In the meantime, journalist Ramachandran had also covered this man's story and referred me to C. Kunjirama Menon's book on Velluva Kumaran. Armed with additional details, I decided to rework the story and retell the adventures of this remarkable character, including the travails of his family after his death and a brief about Ayaz's stay in Bombay at Mazagon.

The early parts of Ayaz's life and his age are unfortunately in conflict. Logan, quoting Wilkes, notes that the boy was 12 years old when taken up by Hyder, implying he was born in 1744. He also adds that Ayaz was a Nambiar, from the Valiya Puthiya Veedu in Chirakkal, both of which conflict with the information in Kunhirama Menon's novel and Elayavoor's account in the Vadakkan Aithihyamala, which states Ayaz, originally named Kammaran, was born in 1713 (also mentioned so by the Kalliat and Velluva homepages). KVN Sastri, writing about Ayaz, follows the above Velluva account but does not address the age. A later entry mentions that his home was called Velluva Puthiya Veedu, which suggests that the Velluva is perhaps confused with Valiya by Wilkes/Logan. Nevertheless, the age remains an issue, as Kammaran would have been 53 when captured by Hyder, suggesting he was not the small boy Hyder admired for his looks and fearless qualities.

Velluva Kammaran accounts (Menon, Elyavoor)

The story begins in Velluva Desam, Edakkad, between Cannanore and Tellicherry. Kunhirama Menon's book is a (1918) 1927 translation of the English novel by Othena Menon, written based on information gathered while Menon stayed at the Velluva house as a young boy. However, the English copy is no longer traceable; only Kunjirama Menon's Malayalam translation remains. Anyway, let's go back to Velluva Desam, to a place called Inderi, where the Velluva house was situated. In those days, i.e., the early 18th century, the karanavar (head) of the tharavad (ancestral manor) was one Rairu Nambiar. His sisters married into the Chalat and Kalliat families. Kammaran (Kammu) was born to Chalat Palliath Kannan Nambiar (a Randathara Achan) and Velluva Kalyani, the sister of Rairu Nambiar, in 1713. Kammu is educated and trained in martial arts and grows into a strong boy. As the story goes, Rairu Nambiar loses his senses and gets involved in the murder of his Karyasthan, following which he is arrested and confined in Tellicherry, where Adhikari Mavila Chandu Nambiar is waiting. Rairu, by then, has collapsed and is near death, and now asks Kammu to try to protect their ancestral properties and prevent them from being taken over by the Kolathiri Raja. The Raja decrees that the lands be seized and that Kammu work in his army without pay for a year. Meanwhile, Kammu falls in love with Chandu's daughter Madhavi, and Chandu perishes in a fire, leaving Madhavi in Kammu's hands. However, Kammu has to join the Kolathiri army, so he leaves Madhavi at the Kalliat home, joins the forces, and is assigned to command 100 soldiers.

The Kolathiri kingdom had declined in those days, and the entire region was divided into three. The northern portion was administered by the Vadakamkur, the south by the Thekkankur faction, and the middle portion of Tellicherry (Chirakkal) by the Kolathiri Raja. The British had meanwhile settled in the EIC factory in Tellicherry. Continuing the story, Kammu gets involved in the intrigues among the prince regent of Vadakkamkur, the Kolathiri, the Ikkeri Nayaks, and the British. He is eventually caught in a trap laid by the Prince Regent and left to die, at which point he is rescued by Hyder, who has commenced his march southward. Kammu is taken to Seringapatam, where the grateful boy converts to Islam and becomes Ayaz Khan, a favorite of Hyder, and thereafter spends 20 years in Mysore, marrying and begetting children. According to the story, he returns to Tellicherry, picks up Madhavi, converts her, and takes her along, but the books don't mention them getting married or having any children. After his adventures, which we will get to, he passed away in 1785 - in one version as a Sanyasi, in the other in retirement at Mazagon.

That he was pretty young (and not 53) in 1766 is clear from another comment by Wilkes - Sheikh Ayaz had, while a youth, and a common chela of the palace, rendered himself unacceptable to Tippoo by the independence of his character, and had, in consequence, been treated by that prince with gross and repeated indignity. In mature age, Hyder's extravagant praises of his valour and intellect, and the habit of publicly contrasting the qualities of his slave with those of the heir apparent, perpetually embittered all the feelings of former enmity and rendered the death of Hyder a crisis which Ayaz must necessarily have contemplated with alarm. Some sources also report that Hyder treated Ayaz as his own son, infuriating Tipu.

By contrast, in 1766, Hyder (born 1722 or 1717) would have been 44-49, so even younger than a 53-year-old Kammu, and Tipu (born 1750) would have been just 16 years old. Most likely, Kammu's date of birth, stated by Venniyoor and Menon to be 1713, is incorrect and may have been closer to 1743. Or, as an observant reader noted in the earlier article, there was an uncle and a nephew, Kammu, by the same name; while the uncle was the valiant Kammu, the nephew was the boy Hyder had taken away. Wilks notes that Ayaz was illiterate (we also know this from the Bednur story) and could not read letters, whereas we understand that Kammu the elder was well educated.

Ayaz at Mysore, Chitaldroog, and Bednore

Ayaz became Hyder's right-hand man and was hated by Tipu for the trust his father placed in the chela, whom he regularly deputed on demanding missions. As Sastri explains, when there was trouble in Malabar, Ayaz was sent to punish the offenders. When Chitaldrug (Chitradurga) fell, he was appointed its governor, and when Bednore (Nagara) and Sunda fell, he was promoted and transferred to the new province.

When Ayaz once stated that he was illiterate in the matters of governance, Hyder is supposed to have said - Keep a Corla (rope whip) in your right hand, and that will do you better service than pen and ink. Place reliance on your excellent understanding, act for yourself alone, fear nothing of the calamities of the scribblers, trust in me as I trust in you. Reading and writing, how have I risen in the empire without knowledge of either?

He seems to have done well at Bednore and was a benevolent ruler, though strictly speaking, he was just a military governor – a quildar or, as some say, nawab (as used for the title governor). Bednore was also a location where Hyder had acquired and moved much of his loot and armaments. Giving this vital location and control over 12-15 million pounds' worth of treasure to Ayaz gave Tipu no amount of heartache, and Tipu never trusted the 'slave from Malabar,' as he always called him.

Even Donald Campbell, the traveler who was then in jail in Bednore, seems to have had a decent opinion of Ayaz. But things started to go south when Hyder fell terminally ill. Tipu Sultan was nominated as the heir to the Mysore throne by Haider on his deathbed, and Ayaz, seeing the possibility that Tipu would seek revenge against him, decided to desert the Mysore side and seek safety with the British, who were moving in to attack and take Bednore. In Mysore, Tipu Sultan was equally nervous, as he was sure that Ayaz would help the British defeat him.

At this point, Col Matthews and his forces arrived, disregarding their orders to unseat Ayaz and take Bednore. What happened next is reported differently in history books and later records. Ayaz learns from a Mysore messenger that Tipu has ordered to have him assassinated in secret. Wasting no time, he negotiated a settlement with Gen Matthews (while other sources say Matthews coerced him), handed over the treasures to Gen Matthews, and left Bednore by boat to Onore. At the same time, Matthew's brother, a captain, loaded some or most of the treasure in his personal ship and sailed off to Bombay. Ayaz, as agreed, instructed the officers in many of the forts under his command to surrender to the British.

Hearing that Ayaz has bolted, Tipu is enraged and tells everyone that Ayaz proved to be the ungrateful and treacherous slave, just like he had always thought. Tipu then begins the march with a large force to retake Bednore and seize back the treasure from General Matthews. Matthews is defeated and put to death together with some 20 officers, while all the other prisoners are sent to Seringapatam. Tipu also massacres a large number of Christians at Mangalore, suspecting them to be complicit in the business, and enslaves them. We had discussed that in the Baltu Chutney story.

The other officers and soldiers of the British army, involved at Bednore, who had been looking forward to sharing a good portion of the loot, saw none of it because Matthews classified it as Hyat's private hoard and did not distribute it. While Tipu felt that Ayaz had secreted the treasures, the British were sure that Col Matthews had misappropriated them after seeing the report made by some of Matthews's officers, who went to Bombay to report the situation. It was all quite murky, and the involvement of the highest levels of EIC in the matter makes one feel that the supreme command was involved in the embezzlement, though most accounts place the blame only on Matthews. We will discuss all of this separately later and attempt to track the treasure's movements.

Ayaz at Mazagon

From Tellicherry, Hyat provided a complete list of goods and treasures taken away by Matthews and demanded them back, as his private property. He also demanded his position at Bednore and the promised pension. The EIC referred the matter to the supreme command, who, after much deliberation, decided on a monthly pension of Rs 4,000, which was just under what the Bombay EIC governor was paid. Even this amount was delayed, though Hyat was allocated a magnificent home in Bombay as well as living expenses. Tipu continued to demand the return of Hyat per the terms of their treaty, but the EIC refused to consider it. On the other hand, the EIC repudiated the treaty with Hyat over minor legalities and did not pay him any additional monies.

Hyat Sahib spent the monsoon season under British protection at Tellicherry and reached Bombay by Dec 1783 with his wives and children (Details are scant about the extent of his family). In Bombay, he sat, hoping that Bednore would be restored to him, which, of course, never happened. After all this, the EIC began to avoid him, as Mathews had been defeated by Tipu and poisoned to death, and Tipu had retaken Bednore. Ayaz was cautioned not to cause trouble for the British and to lead a proper life in retirement, as he attempted to initiate correspondence with the Nawab of Hyderabad, which the British disapproved of. Tipu, meanwhile, unsuccessfully pressed on with his demands on getting Hyat back, terming him his prisoner, his domestic slave, and private property.

Ayaz ended up getting Rs 4,000/- per month 'as a pension' till he died (which unfortunately happened soon after, in 1799). His funeral expenses worked up to Rs 80,000/-, showing that he was leading a lavish life in Bombay and well beyond his pension.

Though recent reports term him as Nawab Ayaz Ali, a distant relative of Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan, his name was Mohammed Ayaz Khan, and, as you read thus far, he was the military governor or quildar of Bednur before he took asylum with the British in Bombay. His home was quite majestic and can be seen as a landmark in the panorama of Bombay sketched by Burford.

Capt Ramesh Babu, writing about Magazon, has researched the story of Hyat Bombay and explains that he made a name for himself there. He had a well built for the dwellers in the Fort area, and the road leading to it is still called Nawab Tank Road. In addition to the tank, he built a mosque and a graveyard.

Apparently, he had a temple at Tellicherry rebuilt or renovated -a temple that his ancestors had promised to manage. The conflicts between the British and Tipu continued, and Ayaz, who was following the situation closely, provided substantial support to the EIC in 1790 during the final Anglo-Mysore battles, offering advice on attacking Mysore from the West.

Post-death claims on the EIC

Fyaz Ali Khan, his minor son, was denied the father's pension in full, and he then pursued due justice in the Bombay and London courts. The British did not give him permission to travel to the UK to fight the case, but a representative, Muhial Din, conducted considerable research on the case in the UK, only to soon find himself indebted and facing imprisonment there. The EIC offered to clear his debts by paying GBP 3,500 and a return ticket if he dropped support to Fyaz. As the London stonewalling continued, the EIC restored the pension to Rs 2,000 p.m., plus funeral expenses. The lawyer returned to Bombay, but, as fate would have it, the ship carrying all the case papers sank in the Bay of Bengal. Finally, in exasperation, Fyaz and his lawyer accepted the settlement as final. Fyaz Khan died in 1829, and his son, Akbar Ali Khan, continued to receive a monthly pension of Rs 1,500. Akbar Ali died in 1856, and his descendants received a pension of Rs 750.

In addition to all this, there was the involvement of a Parsi named Ardaseer Dady in the management of the Hyat estate as willed by Hyat, which proved to be a financial disaster for the Hyat family. Those interested in this can read the relevant section in the book by Michael Fischer under references. There is no further information about the family after this, nor do we know what happened to his Mazagaon home; perhaps his descendants sold it (I am not even sure whether it was leased to him by the English). Capt. Ramesh Babu mentions quoting a local historian that Hyat's last descendants moved to Calcutta and thence to England.

Ayaz and the Kolathiri Raja

After Ayaz settled in Seringapatam with Hyder, he visited Tellicherry in 1775 to assist the Chirakkal Raja (with Hyder's approval) by deploying his troops to collect Rs 10,000 from the Corengotte Nayar, who, in turn, was aided by the French. Hyder had to personally intervene and negotiate a settlement, as things dragged on.

Hyat's connections with the Chirakkal Rajas continued. In 1781, the Raja had arrears of over 2 lakhs owed to Hyder and was taken away to Seringapatam. After Hyat's involvement, he was sent back to Chirakkal in 1782 and, in return, had to leave two hostages (a successor, Ram Rajah, and another relation, Vnioma) to be jailed at Bednore. They were released by General Matthews and returned to Chirakkal by sea. In 1783, Hyat fled to Tellicherry and persuaded the Raja to formally grant his family three tharas (villages) in the Chirakkal taluk. The grant was subsequently declared invalid for having been obtained through fraud.

As for the Bednur treasures, there is no doubt that the British officers and probably their high commans were complicit. What happened to the many chests that reached Bombay? Ayaz tried to get to them, stating them to be his private treasure, while Col Matthews was put to death by Tipu. Tipu later recovered some of the treasure acquired by British officers and imprisoned by him, but the chests sent to Bombay were not heard of again. If you study the matter in more detail, you will find British dealings to be quite murky, and it is only after Hyat's death that things unraveled to an extent.

Velluva Puthiya Tharavad

The treaty executed between Ayaz and the EIC at Tellicherry provides some clues about his parentage. It mentions a Kunji Koni of the Cherical (Chirakkal) Valia Pudia house, presumably the Velluva Pudiya tharavad. The Velluva Puthiya Veetil family page appears to support these suppositions, although the timelines provided for the Karananvers do not align. Assuming Kunhi Koni is Kannan, we can see a match between Rairu and Kannan, but the timelines are off by quite a few decades.

Thus ended the legacy of the Nambiar from Chirakkal – the one who lorded a few million pounds of wealth and a small region, only to end up in relative poverty in Bombay, demonstrating yet another classic example of how the EIC ripped off the illiterate governor, without whose help, and the queer turn of events, they could never have taken Bednore.

References

Sheik Ayaz or Hayat Saheb of Bednore- K. N. V. Sastri, Proceedings of the Indian History Congress Vol. 8 (1945)

Vadakkan Aithihyamala (Velluva Kammaran) - Vanidas Elayavoor

Velluva Kammaran- Kunhirama Menon, Othena Menon

Historical Sketches of the south of India, in an attempt to trace the history of Mysoor – Lt Col Mark Wilks

Counterflows to Colonialism - Indian travellers and settlers in Britain 1600-1857 - Michael H. Fisher

My Own Mazagon – Capt Ramesh Babu

Bharat Ghothoskar – The Nawab of Mazagoan

The falsehoods in Gidwani’s work of historical fiction, concerning Ayaz Khan had been discussed earlier, so I will not repeat it (See link). Additionally, as Conjeeveram Hayavadana Rao incorrectly states, Ayaz was not a son or nephew of the Kolathiri Raja.

Col Jervis Thomas Bets and Hyat Saheb

This British military engineer (1796-1857) writing in 1853 (India in Relation to Great Britain) states - In the year 1819, (this is not possible as Hyat died in 1799, Jervis made an error and Hyat would have been just 55 when he died in 1799) I was one day in friendly conversation with Hyat Sahib, an old Mahommedan chieftain and soldier, then residing as a state-prisoner or pensioner at Mazagaon, and far advanced in years; when this veteran child of fortune told me he had for some years exercised the government of Bednore, in the Mysore dominions, from about 1790 to 1798 (erroneous as Matthews took Bednore in 1782-83), and engaged in many a bloody fight with our bravest soldiery. He related to me that, being on some occasion in attendance as a risaldar, or commander of native horse in the hoozoor (presence-chamber) of Hydur Ali, with numberless quilted and caparisoned military retainers, Hydur Ali beckoned to him, and said: 'Here, you see this worthless wretch, this rebel, willful son of mine, Tippoo, he is incapable of anything. Go thou, and take the government of Bednore. Alla Kureem, Sooltan (God is all-bountiful, mighty prince), said Hyat; Bring me a rope, replied Hydur Ali.

Hyat tremblingly obeyed the mandate, scarcely venturing to debate whether it was for the purpose of strangling him, or suspending him ignominiously to the nearest tree. Hydur, snatching the rope, deliberately tied some two or three huge knots, and commanding Hyat to approach nearer, administered several blows over his shoulders with such severity as to draw forth an involuntary shriek of pain. Hence, away! exclaimed Hydur Ali, You have your instructions, go with all assurance; this is the way to dispense justice.

In the next part, we will discuss the flight of the Bednore treasure.

 

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Kathleen Gough and Kerala

An eminent anthropologist's pioneering work in Kerala

I came across her seminal work and read several papers she wrote on Nair kinship many years ago while trying to understand the history of the Nairs of Kerala, and as part of my effort to grasp some of our customs. The first time I got hold of the ‘Matrilineal Kinship’ book, coauthored by Gough with Schneider, was after my late uncle, a history postgraduate and enthusiast, passed away. His copy of the book had been unused for decades by then, and I took it across to America. It was difficult to use because it had become musty and yellowed over time, making it impossible to read without an antihistamine. Eventually, I found another copy on the used books market and replaced the older edition. Over time, my collection of Gough’s papers has grown, and they have been constant companions during my many years working on articles about the people of Malabar.

Her interest extended beyond the Nairs and Moplahs to the development and overall condition of Kerala, which improved following her initial visit. I found it remarkable that, in yesterday's local body election results in Kerala, voters delivered a verdict against the ruling LDF party, just as Kathleen Gough had predicted. She had advised Joan Mencher, who followed her in the field many decades ago, that the Leftist party in Kerala, by concentrating all its efforts on electoral politics and ignoring employment issues, was not addressing the needs of its constituents—the very people who had entrusted it with power, implying that the people would eventually react against it.

As I mentioned initially, Nairs and Moplahs were the two communities on which she worked for many years, often in the field, in villages across both North and South Malabar. After completing the field visits, this Englishwoman moved to America, only to become disillusioned with the politics of the new world and to be deeply affected by nepotism in academia, as well as by the political intrigues of the 1960s in the US. Although we will briefly touch on her life and times, I will do my best to highlight her connection to Kerala—she not only studied the people of the state but was also heavily influenced by her subjects and continued to follow developments there. To a large extent, she was the driving force behind introducing and advocating the Kerala model to the Western world, remaining Kerala’s champion throughout her life. We’ll get into the details very soon, but first, let’s explore where she came from, why she came to Kerala, and what she did, because many of you might otherwise never know anything about this remarkable lady.

Born in Hunsingore, Yorkshire, UK, in 1925, to Albert Gough and Eleanor, she was raised in a rural setting and experienced the effects of industrial expansion on traditional British country life. After studying anthropology and archaeology at Cambridge, she married Eric Miller in 1947, and both received scholarships to conduct field studies in India in 1948-49. Although they earned their PhDs in 1950, they faced persistent difficulties due to strict nepotism policies. She recalled it this way: if your husband is chosen for a job, we can't employ you; if he isn't, we can't hire you and humiliate him. Perhaps this was to ignite her firm feminist convictions, which motivated her throughout her life.

After issues related to nepotism, failure to secure a teaching position, and others, Gough’s marriage to Miller ended. The situation that women professionals in the Western world have faced since the late 19th century, especially the underlying belief that a man's career takes precedence over his wife's, continued to cause serious problems for talented academics like Gough.

After Kathleen Gough's marriage to Miller broke up, she returned alone to South India to study ritual and mythology in addition to kinship. She was eager to understand and share information about the fascinating people of South India, as well as the stark contrasts between the ritualistic Tamil Brahmin and the free-wheeling (as she described it) Nairs of Malabar, and so she returned to Malabar and Madras in 1951. Settling among the very communities she studied, she observed, interviewed, and carefully documented the communities, their histories, and changes over time. Her first major publication was the book I mentioned at the beginning of this article, Matrilineal Kinship. Matrilineal Kinship was published in 1961.

I have not yet posted my articles on Matriliny, polyandry, Nayar marriage customs, and related topics because I planned to write them after an introduction to Kathleen Gough. Her studies are arguably the gold standard, although some aspects could use refinement. She had early on surmised that matriliny was destined to be the inevitable victim of capitalist development and the rise of the nuclear family, and that describing Nayar marriage customs as polyandry in the strict sense was oversimplified and procrustean. Therefore, I will discuss Nair matriliny, Tali Kettu, and Sambandham separately, with this article focusing more on the individual and her era in Kerala. Her papers and books have long been available to researchers, offering detailed analyses of kinship, family life, and relationships from medieval times to the 1970s.

She then spent a year at Harvard as a Visiting Research Fellow before taking a teaching position at Manchester in 1954. However, she never advanced into what promised to be a prestigious career. In 1955, she remarried, left her position, and moved to the United States, only to find that opportunities for married women academics were no better there.

Now, let's return to her initial visit to the sleepy villages of Malabar. For a woman from Britain, it must have seemed unfamiliar, primitive, and incredibly challenging. Malabar was still developing and was part of the Madras state, while Travancore and Cochin were independent kingdoms, as Kerala had not yet been established. Although there is little published on her time in Kerala, her papers and books offer valuable insights into Nayar and Moplah life in North and South Malabar and Cochin, along with brief notes on similar communities in Travancore.

Joan Mencher, who continued with similar anthropological work, explains – She went to Kerala immediately after Indian Independence in the late 1940s. This was a period of considerable turmoil in the area. During the 1930s in each of the main regions of Kerala (Travancore, Cochin, and the Malabar District of Madras State), a wide variety of legal reforms had been enacted that led to profound changes in the structure and organization of life among the land-owning matrilineal castes. Kathleen was the first to study these changes in detail, as well as the earlier changes that had resulted from contact with the colonizing Western powers, the invasions of Malabar by Haider Ali and his son Tipoo Sultan and the subsequent betrayal of the Zamorin of Calicut by the British which led to British rule in Malabar. She worked in two parts of the former Malabar District: (a) in a small town in South Malabar, and (b) in the northern part of the district in a village about 18 miles from the coastal cities of Cannanore and Tellicherry, where she studied not only the Nayars but also two other matrilineal groups, the Tiyyas (or Ezhavas) and matrilineal Muslims, as well as (c) in a village in Trichur District of Cochin State.

I was pleased to see a Westerner emphasizing the betrayal of the Zamorin of Calicut by the British, which led to British rule in Malabar. It is something I mentioned earlier and that most historians overlook.

Getting further details of her stay in Kerala during 1947-49 was not easy, but I did get a good idea of her days from her unpublished thesis. Interestingly, Gough was looking forward to revising it and publishing it, but never got to it during her turbulent life thereafter.

Her companion in Malabar during 1948-49 was Eric Miller. Miller served initially in the British Army. Commissioned into the Royal Artillery in 1943, he served first in Britain and then in the Royal Indian Artillery. He fought in Burma in the closing months of the war with a field battery which had been loaned to the Indian Army by the Maharajah of Gwalior. Returning to Britain, he became a keen anthropologist after observing and serving alongside Indian soldiers with whom he had fought.

Thus, it was with Eric Miller, her husband, that Kathleen set out for Kerala in Nov 1947. Miller was analyzing the Hindu caste system in its interaction with the broader social structure in certain parts of the Malabar Coast. Working in tandem, Gough concentrated on matriliny and the Nairs as well as the Moplah castes in the same geographic areas. She spent the first six months in Valluvanad, more specifically Perinthalmanna, collecting data on Nairs and Moplahs. However, she admits that the information on Nairs was insufficient, as it came from a cross-section living in an urban setting, whereas her intention was to get to the roots in a regular village setting. 

She then moved to Pattanur in Kottayam (Pazhassi Rajas' realm) in North Malabar, between Mattanur and Irrikur. It appears that she received assistance in developing a better understanding of the social structure from KT Kunhi Kammaran Nambiyar, the local MLA in the Madras Legislative Assembly. Interestingly, this Nambiyar hails from the same family that was home to our famous or infamous Ayaz Khan (Hyatt Saheb), the Chirakkal boy who was forcibly converted and adopted by Hyder Ali and who later crossed swords with Tipu Sultan. After 6 months at Pattanur, she and her husband moved to Puthurkara near Ayanthole in Trichur, where they spent another 8 months. Now you must understand that in the late 40’s there were no lodges or similar facilities in these rural areas, and homes had no en-suite toilets. Imagine a British couple in such surroundings! It was only last week that I learned that the grateful villagers (Pattanur I presume) constructed an outdoor toilet for the British couple whom they later came to respect and adore.

In passing, I must mention a comment made by Mencher: it appears that Gough had advised Mencher that she would never learn much from Nair women and that most of the input she received came from Nair men. Mencher later clarified that her experience differed when speaking with free-minded lower-class Tiyya women and younger Nair girls.

After gathering information on village structures, caste rules, and details about local chieftains and minor Rajas, they made brief visits to Palghat, a few small villages in Central Travancore, and several coastal towns, including Payyannur, Cannanore, Tellicherry, Mahe, Calicut, Ponnani, Ernakulam, Cochin, Quilon, and Trivandrum. As expected, she fell ill, possibly with a stomach ailment, which ended the trip early. Naturally, they learned some Malayalam, likely including the Northern and Southern Malabar and Moplah dialects. If you can imagine, this was a significant challenge for a foreigner traveling in Kerala during the 40s, especially since most villages lacked electricity and basic infrastructure such as regular motorized road transport.

Reading her papers, books, thesis, and articles makes it clear that, as a trained anthropologist, she developed a solid understanding of prevailing systems fairly quickly. My doubt was always about her interpretation of the raw data she collected and how she filtered it, since each caste and person in Kerala tends to twist the story to fit their own perspectives. By increasing the sample size and considering regional differences, she did a really good job, actually, though I will admit that you can, as expected, notice a little Christian morality here and there, and the impression she gives is that she was acting as an observer from above, trying to remain as detached as possible.

Her description of the post-World War II setup in Kerala is revealing—almost every village has its bazaar, with shops selling rationed rice and kerosene oil, vegetables, groceries, and toilet articles. Small tea-shacks and coffee-shacks are everywhere and have increased in number since many youths returned from the army with a desire to start "business" independently of their families. Besides the railways along the coast, privately owned buses now run somewhat irregularly through all the larger villages, creating much mobility between villages and between the coast towns and the countryside. She adds that trade (shops, shopkeepers, artisans, port jobs, etc.) primarily attracted non-Nairs, whereas Nairs gravitated toward government posts, poorly paid jobs in educational institutions, and work such as bus drivers, conductors, factory workers, and similar roles.

Her interpretations were largely accurate, and it was evident that she received some guidance in her decision-making. One figure frequently mentioned in her writings is KT Kunhi Kammaran Nambiyar, an MLA in Madras at the time. However, some aspects required a better understanding in the initial drafts, and she revisited them over time, refining her thoughts in papers written during the 50s. I believe she took another trip in the 60s and planned to return in the 80s to revise her thesis, which she felt was lacking.

Kerala, meanwhile, was undergoing rapid change, and matriliny and marriage practices were fiercely challenged by younger generations, prompting the enactment of the Malabar and Nambudiri Marriage Acts. Marriage in Kerala was legalized, and Gough studied these developments during her 1964 visit and continued to do so over the years, while simultaneously facing significant professional challenges that forced her to move between universities, migrate from the UK to the USA, and later to Canada.

Her studies led her to note that the Tharavad system was mismanaged by the Karanaver in some instances and that the family's wealth was not distributed evenly. Nevertheless, the feudal system was slowly giving way to a new society, and joint family systems were shifting toward what she termed single matri-households. Activism was taking hold, and the cries from Christians and Muslim communities to have permanent land ownership rights were becoming strident. A pioneer in the study of anti-imperialism, impacts of a capitalist society on joint families, exploitation of lower classes, and a keen student of the impact of left ideologies, which were soon becoming popular in Kerala, got her writing about these subjects

Although personally left-leaning, Kathleen quickly observed how different parties manipulate the public for votes and how leaders increasingly focus on winning seats while spending less on day-to-day organization in their villages. Her notable works include "Kerala Politics and the 1965 Elections" (1967), “Communist Rural Councilors in Kerala" (1968), and "Peasant Resistance and Revolt in South India" (1968-69). However, she also pointed out that neglecting industrialization would pose a major long-term problem for the state, and Gough emphasized that the left party’s focus on electoral politics and its disregard for real employment opportunities would lead to significant difficulties. Kathleen never joined any political party, although she initially sympathized with the CPI's aims and policies and later with those of the CPI(M). I sincerely doubt if anyone in CPI(M) in Kerala even knows of Gough today.

Mencher adds - Towards the end, she wanted to do something about what was happening in Kerala in the late 1980s. We shared a common view of the situation in Kerala and were equally distressed by the way in which Kerala was being touted as a "development model" while so many people were without work. Without the funds received each month from expatriates living and working in the Middle East, the Kerala situation would be far worse. We shared our fear about what will happen when this goldmine dries up.

It is now time to briefly trace her life after Kerala, a period characterized by professional and personal setbacks. As mentioned earlier, she returned to South India after her divorce in 1951 due to nepotism rules and worked in Tanjore for a couple of years. After returning to the UK, her first major publication was the pioneering book on Matrilineal Kinship, co-edited with David M. Schneider (who initiated the work) and contributed to by other scholars, with Gough writing nearly half of the book herself. Around this time, she met David Aberle, whom she married in Manchester in 1955.

Moving on to the USA, although David secured strong positions at Stanford and other institutions, Gough failed to secure regular appointments at universities, despite her background and substantial accomplishments. Activism took hold, and her staunch anti-nuclear stand got her partaking in clashes with the police on the Polaris (base at Holy Loch) and later the Cuba policy, followed by Kennedy. In 1961, she finally secured a regular appointment at Brandeis University, but that was also cut short when she joined the anti-nuclear protests over U.S.-Cuba policy. David Aberle and Kathleen resigned in protest and moved on to Oregon.

David obtained a new position in Oregon in 1963, whereas Kathleen was appointed to a lower-ranked position as an affiliated honorary research associate and visiting associate professor. Once again, both David and Kathleen chose to protest the use of college grades as a basis for drafting students into the Vietnam War. Her outspoken stance in support of civil rights and against nuclear weapons and the Vietnam War resulted in her being placed on an FBI watch list, and university reactions to her progressive views disrupted her career path several times. I am not sure whether Gough was aware of the CIA's involvement in Kerala politics at that time or of the efforts to influence the elections.

In 1967, they decided to leave the US after a 12-year stay and migrate to Canada, a decision she later regretted. Her work at Simon Fraser University was also troubled, and in 1971, she concluded her work on Indian matters and moved on to Southeast Asian studies in Vietnam and Kampuchea. Eventually, she withdrew from academia altogether to become an independent radical scholar, but her work continued to receive notice and was eagerly cited and used by subsequent scholars. Throughout her life, Gough maintained her steadfast commitment to the well-being of workers and peasants in the Third World. Always politically relevant and fervently anti-colonial, anti-imperialist, and anti-capitalist, Gough lived with the hope of a better, more peaceful, and more equitable world, never losing faith that such a world was within reach, much like John Lennon did when he wrote his song "Imagine."

Richard Lee states it succinctly - In spite of enticing offers from a number of institutions, she steadfastly remained an independent scholar for the last decades of her life. One can only speculate on the lost opportunities of students to work with her and the ultimate effect on the course of Canadian scholarship to have had such an important anthropological figure for so long on the proverbial sidelines.

Eric Miller, her first husband, after obtaining his doctorate, moved to Thailand for field work, and later to the USA, after which he worked in differing capacities for jute and textile mills in India, as an expatriate employee relations manager, working to implement organizational behavior strategies designed by the US Tavistock Institute. He was a founding member of what became the A. K. Rice Institute in the United States and supported similar developments in Finland, Denmark, Israel, India, and South Africa. I don’t think Kerala figured in his thoughts after 1950, but I must admit that his paper on the village structure in N Kerala is a valuable reference. Miller passed away in 2002, aged 78.

David Aberle, Gough’s second husband, was also a war veteran and held teaching assignments at Harvard, Johns Hopkins, Michigan, Brandeis, Oregon, and, from 1967 until his retirement in 1983, at the University of British Columbia. His focus, however, was on the American Southwest, particularly the Navajo. David died on September 23rd, 2004, at Vancouver Hospital at the age of 85. In their son Stephen's words, "They remained inescapably, sometimes tumultuously, always lovingly married until Kathleen's death in 1990" (Toronto Globe and Mail 2004). I believe Gough had a daughter from the first marriage and a son, Stephen, from the second marriage, as well as a couple of grandchildren.

Kathleen Gough Aberle died of cancer in Canada on September 8, 1990, at the age of 65. Her work continues to be a foundational influence for anthropologists and scholars studying the Nair caste in Malabar.

References

Kathleen Gough and Research in Kerala - Joan Mencher (this paper also provides a list of most publications by Kathleen Gough)

The Work of Kathleen Gough – R lee

I understand that Sandra Lindemann's book, A Radical Anthropologist: The Trials and Triumphs of Kathleen Gough, will be released soon, and I will surely read it. Some day I will try to review her vast collection of field notes at UBC, though much of it is embargoed for 75 years from 1964.

Joan P. Mencher is an Emerita Professor of Anthropology from the City University of New York’s Graduate Center, and Lehman College of the City University of New York.  She supports rural grassroots organizations in India and the United States that work with poor and small farmers on issues of sustainable agriculture.  She has worked primarily in South India but also in West Bengal briefly, on issues of ecology, caste, land reform, agriculture, women, and related issues over the last half century, and has published widely both in the United States and in India on all of these subjects, primarily in academic journals

Image - K Gough, courtesy - Utoronto

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The Mysterious Pakkanar

Although many Malayalis are familiar with this fascinating character from folklore, and quite a few probably know of Naranathu Branthan (who is similar to the Greek mythological figure Sisyphus), his brother, the lunatic from Palghat, I haven't come across any thorough studies on Pakkanar. Kottarathil Sankunni introduced him in his Aithihyamala. Kundur Narayana Menon published parts of Pakkanar Pattu many years ago, and recently Rajan Chungath wrote about the entire clan.

Few realize that Jacome Fenicio (Giacomo Fenizio), the Portuguese/Italian friar who served at Arthunkal and Calicut, introduced him to the wider world for the first time early in the 17th century. Although Fenicio claims to have documented about 300 of the 900 verses attributed to Pakkanar and used them in his religious debates with Brahmin priests at Calicut and possibly Arthunkal in Alleppey, we haven't found many of these in his existing written records. They may be stored in a European archive, as we currently only have an edited version that covers early myths about Hindu gods. Still, let's try to get a clear picture of this legendary figure, Pakkanar, explore some of his stories, and then wrap it all up with Fenicio's role.

Although born into the lower-caste Parayan community, he appears to have mastered the Vedas and other significant religious texts of his era, and it seems that the name Pakkanar was given out of respect, even by the upper castes. There are no solid historical records about him, and he remains somewhat of a myth. Now, let's start with the myth, which is especially interesting because Pakkanar and his kin lived without major caste conflicts (each caste carried out its duties). He seems to have commanded respect despite being very low on the caste hierarchy.

As we discussed earlier, a myth is a symbolic, sacred story usually involving gods or supernatural beings, believed to be true in the past. A legend is a traditional story regarded as historical but lacking strong evidence, often linked to a real person or event and usually exaggerated over time. Lore, on the other hand, encompasses a wide range of myths, legends, and various kinds of folklore. This story can, in theory, be all of those.

There are a few versions often cited by writers. The myth told by Kundur slightly differs from that of Kottarathil Sankunni, especially regarding the angels or Devatas on the tree. Still, they share many similarities.

Govindapadar, Sankaracharya's guru, had sons from each of his four wives, who belonged to different castes (There are other versions about the origin of Varuchi). From the Brahmin wife, he had Varuchi; from the Kshatriya wife, he had Vikramaditya; from the Vysya wife, it was Bhatti; and through the Sudra wife, it was Bhartruhari. One might wonder how he managed to marry women from different castes at that time, or why, but let's follow the story.

Vikramaditya became a king, and Varuchi ended up working in his palace. One day, it seems Vikramaditya asked Varuchi to recite the most important verse from the Ramayana. Unable to come up with a clear answer, Varuchi was lost in thought, and the king gave him 41 days to find one. The wise Varuchi was upset that he couldn't answer and wandered around the country searching for one. Forty days passed, and finally, a tired Varuchi sat down to rest under a large banyan tree in a forest, drifting off to sleep. Some angels or devatas hanging out in the tree started talking among themselves that the sleeping Varuchi would soon marry the daughter of a Paraya woman, and that the answer to the question bothering Varuchi was actually the verse which went like this - 'Ramam Dasharatham Viddhi.. maam, Viddhi janakatmajam, Ayodhyam atavim Viddhi, Gacha tatha yadhaa sukham'.

Varuchi, who had just dozed, heard all of this and, filled with joy, hurried to the palace, recounting the verse along with ten different interpretations. He also stressed that the most crucial part of the verse was 'maam, viddhi janakatmajam' – that is, consider Sita (janakatmaja) as myself, Sumitra.

The explanation goes like this: After saying goodbye to Dasaratha, Kausalya, and Kaikeyi, the exiled trio of Rama, Lakshmana, and Sita went to meet Sumitra, the third queen and Lakshmana's mother. She tells Lakshmana, "Think of Rama as Dasaratha, your father, and Sita as me. Look upon the forest (Atavi—where you are now going to live) as Ayodhya. Farewell to you, and may your journey be a blessed one!" In simple terms, it summarizes to 'be happy where you are'.

However, the prophecy that he would have to marry a Paraya girl upset Varuchi. After obtaining permission from the king and tracking down the newborn girl he was supposed to marry, his henchmen sent her floating on a banana stem raft with a 'kol vilakku' (a lamp strung on a brass pole) embedded in her skull. As you might have guessed, the girl did not die and was rescued from the riverbank by a Brahmin woman from the Naripetta mana at Paruthur on the Nila bank. The woman took care of the girl, who was then named Panchami. She grew up to be a beautiful, intelligent girl. Again, as you might have guessed, some years later, Varuchi, passing by (again, the story is charmingly different in Sankunni's telling), becomes enamored with the lovely girl (due to her intelligence, says Sankunni) and marries her, as fate had dictated.

Some days after a life of marital bliss, Varuchi notices a strange scar on the skull of his newlywed wife. As he listened to her story, he realized that this was the very girl he had cast off and exactly what the angels had foretold! Ashamed of his previous actions, he excommunicated himself, left his home, and after a long journey, settled with his wife on the banks of the Nila (Bharatapuzha) River in Malabar.

Along the way, they had many children. As each child was born, Varuchi would ask his wife if the child had a mouth, to which his wife would answer, "Yes." Varuchi would say, 'Well, if he has a mouth, he will survive, leave the kid in the forest, and let's get on.' The distraught mother did what was asked of each of their 11 children (it must have been a long trek, perhaps lasting some 20 years!). When they had a 12th child, the mother decided that enough was enough and lied that the kid had no mouth, and lo and behold – the child's mouth disappeared! Varuchi consecrated the child in stone on a nearby hillock, which over time was worshipped as the Vayilla Kunnil Appan deity at Thiruvazhiyode (Kadampazhipuram). A distraught Panchami committed suicide at Mannur in Palghat (the place is called Theeppattu kuzhi).

The 11 kids who were left in the forest were taken in by foster parents from 11 different castes, and they grew up in diverse backgrounds. These children later became known as Parachi/Parayi petta panthiru kulam (the 12 castes born from a Parayi's womb) in the Malabar region. In another version, after all the excitement and travel, Varuchi and his wife settled into a life of penance and disappeared from view. The 11 surviving children, knowing each other, got along well and would meet every year at Melathol Agnihotri's (one of the 11 children) house in Ponnani for their parents' annual rites.

The 11 children and their castes were - Melathol Agnihothri (Namboothiri), Pakkanar (Parayan), Rajakan (Washerman), Naranath Bhranthan (Ambalavasi), Karakkalamma (Kshatriya and the only girl child), Akavoor Chathan (Vaishnava), Vaduthala Nair (Soldier), Vallon (Pulaya), Uppukottan (Muslim), Paananaar (folk musician), Perumthachan (Carpenter, Architect).

Pakkanar was a skilled bamboo craftsman who specialized in bamboo weaving. Just a short distance from Mezhathol Agnihothri's home, Vemancheri Mana in Thrithala, Palakkad, is the still-existing Paakkanar colony, also known as Eerattinkal Paraya colony, adjoining Arikkunnu. The story goes that it was Paakkanar who actually created a "Thampraakkal" out of "Azhvanchery Thamprakkal", who is considered the head of the Namboothiris in the region. Over time, caste differences became obvious, and the upper-caste brothers and their wives felt ashamed to dine with the lower-caste brothers and their families during the annual rites. So when they gathered, they stayed in ten different rooms of the Mezhathol mana.

To learn about Pakkanar, one must explore some of the myths surrounding him.

Ganga and the Stick – A Brahmin going on a pilgrimage to Ganga asked Pakkanar if he had anything to be cast away in the holy waters (the concept was to wash away all bondages in Ganga, and free oneself). Pakkanar gave his walking stick to him to be cast off at the Ganga. When the Brahmin returned, Pakkanar took him to the pond next to his home and pulled out the stick, proving that there was no need to go to a distant Ganga for absolution, and that all waters were equally holy.

Siva, Parvathi, and the gold – An ardent devotee of Siva, Pakkanar's poverty evoked pity in Parvathi's heart, and she asked Shiva to gift him some gold. Shiva told her that Pakkanar was a wise man and believed that wealth is a destroyer of men. To test this idea, the gods filled some bamboo stems with gold and gems. When Pakkanar's axe split them open, they spilled out, and a shocked Pakkanar left his axe there and ran away. Some passing robbers gathered the gold, but in their greed, they ended up killing each other instead of sharing the loot, proving that wealth can be a deadly force.

The ten murams (winnow) tradition — Pakkanar would always weave ten murams and set out to sell them. He would ask for an exorbitant price for each, and when the buyer demurred, he would leave one behind and move on to the next house, and the next, until nine were gifted. The tenth would be sold at a nominal price, and with these modest earnings, Pakkanar led his contented and straightforward life. The moral of this story is that if he had made only one muram, he would have been leading a lazy life. Doing what one should and can, without expecting significant returns, leads to more contentment in life. So, be happy with what you get—his philosophy was, but do what you can. Many families in the region still observe the tradition of 'returning' to Pakkanar. The Erattingal families continue the 10-winnow custom during festive seasons.

Cows' Udders and the Kovakka Vegetable – During one of the annual feasts with the brothers, Pakkanar brought a couple of cow udders to be cooked, horrifying the wife of the Aginihotri. She refused to cook them and buried the udders. When Pakkanar asked where his udder dish was, the woman explained what had happened, and Pakkanar said that the udders would have already sprouted into plants. Sure enough, the plant had grown and produced udder-shaped vegetables, now known as Kovakka, which were then cooked and served as a vegetarian dish by the lady of the house.

A few more of these fables can be found, such as the one about a wife's faith and devotion, Azvanchery's story, and others. I will go into more detail about them some other time, along with stories of the other brothers of Pakkanar and their only sister, Karakkalamma.

While many believe this was a myth created during the Chera era, there is a substantial historical connection in the lands around the Nila where these 11 children lived. The Erattingal families at Arikkunninode in Thrittala still claim lineage to Pakkanar and are situated near the Mexhathol Agnihotri homestead (it seems he did not want to stray far from his brother). These Paraya families share a relationship with the Namboothiri family through (pula) pollution. It is also believed that the Paraya caste is named after the drum they played—seemingly, they were royal drummers who beat large 'para' drums. Later, they took up bamboo weaving. Other legends mention that he was the elephant doctor of the Chera army, that he belonged to the same family, and was actually a Nambuthiri who had been downgraded to Mussad because he was responsible for the flesh sacrifices practiced in ancient times.

It's also notable that a Christian missionary claims to have encountered about 800-900 verses related to Pakkanar, but only 4-5 are listed in all 20th- and 21st-century publications.

Let's now examine the conclusions reached after a genetic study was conducted to determine if any real facts are hidden in the stories. More details about this can be read in my article "The Wandering Y".

Why mention this? Since all the descendants of these children lived in Shornur, Pattambi, and Thrithala of the Palakkad district in Kerala, and despite differences in their caste and social status, these families are connected through various rituals and religious customs. These families were the focus of a study. Still, when the group led by Suresh collected genetic samples to examine the patterns, they actually found that the results contradicted the folktale. Common haplotypes were not found across the tested families, making it impossible to establish co-ancestry.

This suggests that genetic sampling and studies are not always conclusive over many generations, and therefore, hype about genetic studies is unwarranted. The authors concluded that considering the survival of a lineage from a single founder over 20 generations (roughly 700 years) is only 9.6%, the chance of survival for Vararuchi's lineage, which is believed to have started about 1600 years ago (approximately 45 generations), is very low. On the other hand, it's also possible that the haplogroups of the different families who adopted Vararuchi's children were different and that multiple men from their own families were involved at the time of adoption. The true descendants of Vararuchi's sons may have become extinct over time due to various genetic or social reasons, or they may have greatly declined compared to the descendants of their own family line. Alternatively, the Vararuchi story might be just a myth.

Now, let's see how the Italian Jesuit Jacome Finicio, who arrived in Malabar in 1583, initially worked at Arthungal and later spent several years in Calicut, became involved with the Pakkanar legend. In Calicut, he was involved in numerous intrigues, sometimes acting as a diplomat for Portuguese Goa, and was close to the Zamorin. He discovered that convincing the people of Calicut that his religion, Christianity, was quite challenging. The Brahmin and Nair aristocracy scoffed at his preachings, and that was when he found the teachings of Pakkanar useful.

Let's examine what he concluded based on the translation provided by Charpentier, The Livro de Seita, p. 185, note 8.

For in times past there was a great poet in Malabar, who, though not a Christian, as far as we know, yet left some written books, showing therein the great knowledge he had of things divine. In fact, he composed some 800 octaves against the idols and false gods of those lands, where he pleasantly laughs at their fables, and in the same manner, he treats of Divine Providence, Heaven, Hell, and other matters of our faith, according to what we believe, at least in many points. He says of the Providence of God that he gives to each one what is necessary according to his quality and that he assists us always with his presence and protection, in the same manner as he does who holds the rope for those who are fishing pearls. Of Heaven, he says that it consists in the vision of God; of Hell, that the damned will remain there 400 million years, plunged in fire, and yet always alive. As to the idols, he constantly sneers at them and calls the Brahmins fools.

The Father (Fenicio), having come across this book, copied more than 300 octaves in 1609, though many more are lost; and cleverly used them and read them in the presence of the Gentiles, both privately and publicly, so that they were confused and did not know what to answer." However, the edition by Jarl Charpentier, Livro da seita dos Indios orientais (Uppsala, 1913), although useful, is unfortunately not complete and lacks proper interpretation overall.  

In the following article, I will share the stories of other children and provide a conclusion detailing the impact the story had on the history of Malabar.

References

Paraiyipetta  Panthiru Kulam – Aithihyavum, Chatritravum – Rajan Chungath

Pakkanar – Kundur Narayana Menon

Aithihyamala – Kottarathil Sankunni

A Treatise on Hindu Cosmography from the Seventeenth Century - Jarl Charpentier

Preliminary Report on the "Livro da Seita dos Indios Orientais" - Jarl Charpentier

The Jesuits in Malabar – D Ferroli

The Intach Palghat 2025 calendar – Some lucky people would have come across a lovely calendar produced by Sanusha & Arun at Intach Palghat, which covers the entire Parayi petta story, through top-notch illustrations. The illustration of Pakkanar included here is a result of their hard work, and is duly acknowledged with thanks and reproduced with permission. Please do not copy without Intach's approval.

 

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