Packing a punch

Dear Reader,

“Dictatorships cannot afford laughter because people may laugh at the dictator and that wouldn’t do. In all the years of Hitler, there never was a good comedy, not a good cartoon, not a parody, or a spoof. From this point, the world and sadly enough India have become grimmer.” This is how the legendary cartoonist Shankar announced his decision to shut down the iconic satire magazine, Shankar’s Weekly, on August 31, 1975—just weeks after Indira Gandhi declared Emergency in India, heralding an era of censorship.

For the uninitiated, Shankar, or Kesava Shankar Pillai is considered the father of political cartooning in India. He enjoyed a cult status among the public as well as the who’s who of Indian politics, including the country’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru. Shankar had started his political cartooning career in 1932 at the Hindustan Times and his skilled and politically charged cartoons on the front page became a wake-up call in Delhi and beyond. Shankar’s disciples like Kutty, T. Samuel, NK Ranga, and Abu Abraham went on to develop their own unique styles and popularised cartoons across various publications in India and beyond.

Shankar and many of his ilk were inspired by the legendary political cartoonist David Low, who famously suggested this epigraph for himself: “Here lies a nuisance dedicated to sanity.” Like Shankar, David Low (1891-1963) wasn’t your typical funny man. He was one of the most celebrated and influential political cartoonists of the 20th century. His scathing works took aim at the powerful and mighty, such as Hitler, Mussolini, and Stalin. Hitler reportedly even placed Low high on his post-war death list. It is also said that Winston Churchill once called Low a “great beast”—indeed a testament to Low’s impact.

Low, Shankar, and their kind proved that a cartoon can be more than just funny; it can be a powerful force for social and political change. In India, too, political cartoonists used their drawings as a corrective force in democracy. Which is why the shutting down of Shankar’s Weekly, though it was not a forced act, meant the end of an era.

Cartooning in India didn’t start with Shankar; it has its roots in the British Raj. Inspired by British satirical publications, Indian newspapers and magazines embraced cartoons as a weapon against colonial rule. Publications like Hindi Punch and Awadh Punch were modelled after the British publication, Punch, which was launched in 1841. [In case you’re hearing this for the first time, Punch was a British institution that wielded satire and wit like a well-aimed custard pie, inspiring cartoonists across the globe. The publication is credited with coining the term “cartoon”, from the Italian word cartone (cardboard).]

The Delhi Sketch Book (1850-1857) is considered the first Indian journal dedicated to satire and political commentary through cartoons. These early cartoons, often bold and exaggerated, tackled issues like unfair taxation and the harsh realities faced by Indians under British rule. The Amrita Bazar Patrika (1872) was the first vernacular-language periodical to publish a cartoon, marking a shift towards satire in regional languages. Publications like Sulabh Samachar (Bengali) used cartoons to expose corrupt practices within the colonial legal system and advocate for social justice.

Down south, C. Subramania Bharati’s weekly India (1906-1910) introduced cartoons to Tamil Nadu, with full-page features on its front page. It was much later, in October 1919, that Kerala, which is considered the “cartoon capital” of India, got its first cartoon in Vidooshakan magazine. Interestingly, the subject of the cartoon was a not-so-funny topic; it was famine, and the cartoon was titled “Mahakshamadevatha” (The Great Goddess of Famine).

Even though the Emergency dealt a blow to cartoons, the period saw the rise of cartoonists like O.V. Vijayan, who experimented with geometric forms and darker themes. Cartoonists like R.K. Laxman, with his iconic “Common Man”, continued to capture the urban middle-class experience. The rise of digital and social media has powered the boom in memes, the modern era’s cartoon equivalent, which serve as swift responses to issues of the day.

Cartoons are powerful tools for social commentary, and their humour, satire, and exaggeration expose social issues, spark debate, and drive change. The relationship between cartoons, democracy, and free speech varies globally. In authoritarian regimes, cartoons become tools of dissent. Established democracies grapple with balancing freedom of expression with respect for diverse viewpoints.

That takes us to yet another important question: can a cartoonist be impartial? This question was posed to cartoonist Abu Abraham once. He was candid: “There is nothing like impartiality in cartoons. I was never impartial. I always expressed a point of view,” he told Rediff many years ago. Abu, whose cartoon on Indira Gandhi’s Emergency mocked former President Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed by showing him signing the declaration of Emergency while lying in his bathtub, was a big fan of David Low and Thomas Nast, the father of political cartooning. Abu’s sharp wit and bold strokes disturbed many, including Indira Gandhi, but he continued his duty unfazed.

A recent exhibition in Kochi featured a select bunch of his cartoons and reminded us of the power and impact of political cartoons. A.S. Panneerselvan visited the event and wrote this essay in appreciation of Abu’s works in the latest issue of Frontline. The article also showcases several of Abu’s brilliant strips that stand, to borrow a phrase from Frank Moraes, “witness to an era”.

As always, do write back with your comments. And while we’re at it, look at the brilliant graphic satire The Dystopian Times, which Appupen creates for our Back Page in each issue.

Wishing you a meaningful week ahead,

For Frontline,

Jinoy Jose P.