Nirad C. Chaudhuri, in full Nirad Chandra Chaudhuri, (born November 23, 1897, Kishorganj, East Bengal, British India [now in Bangladesh]—died August 1, 1999, Oxford, Oxfordshire, England), Bengali author and scholar who was opposed to the withdrawal of British colonial rule from the Indian subcontinent and the subsequent rejection of Western culture in independent India. He was an erudite and complex individual who seemed to have been born at the wrong place and in the wrong time.
Chaudhuri was the son of a country lawyer and an unlettered mother. In his youth he read William Shakespeare as well as Sanskrit classics, and he admired Western culture as much as he did his own. His debut on the Indian literary scene was fraught with controversy. He dedicated his first book, The Autobiography of an Unknown Indian (1951), to the memory of the British Empire. He strongly believed that “all that was good and living within us was made, shaped, and quickened by the same British rule.” Needless to say, this sentiment was far from popular in a newly independent nation trying to grapple with its insecurities and where anticolonial sentiment was rampant. Chaudhuri’s book was excoriated, and he was hounded from his job as a broadcaster and a political commentator for All India Radio (AIR). Called the “last British imperialist” and the last of the “brown sahibs,” he was ostracized by the Indian literati.
In the 1970s Chaudhuri chose to leave India for England. There he settled in the university town of Oxford. He had envisioned this move as a homecoming of sorts, but he found a much different place than the England he had idolized. He proved to be as much an oddity in England as he had been in India: the English—who, unlike the bulk of his countrymen, respected him—did not understand his unique combination of proud “Indianness” coupled with a deep nostalgia for the past glory of the British Empire. By the same token, Chaudhuri could not accept the metamorphosis that the English had undergone in the years since the decline of the empire, and he was appalled by their total lack of commitment to the values that he believed had once made England a great nation. His disillusionment was reflected in his writings, and in the final volume of his autobiography, Thy Hand, Great Anarch (1987), which he produced at age 90, he wrote, “The greatness of the English people has passed away for ever.”
He received an honorary doctorate from the University of Oxford in 1990 and an honorary CBE (Commander of the Order of the British Empire) from Queen Elizabeth II in 1992. The essays in his last book, Three Horsemen of the New Apocalypse (1997)—published shortly before his 100th birthday—return to the subject of the decline of England as well as comment on what he saw as the degeneration of the leadership in India. Only in his later years did Chaudhuri win widespread acceptance and appreciation in his homeland. A more cosmopolitan and self-confident South Asian elite especially lauded the final volume of his autobiography. In addition to his autobiographies and his English-language essays, he wrote a number of works in Bengali.
Away from that subject of himself he nibbled, he flitted, he had no means of making a whole of anything. He quoted to impress. It was hard to know what his moral centre was. When in his later books he touched important subjects he babbled.
"In The Continent Of Circe , his second big book, he attempted to explain the extraordinary dereliction of India. The reader interested in this fearful subject would do better to consult the simplest school primers of Pakistan, just across the border. They teach, in the triumphant way of Islamic converts, that Hindu - Buddhist India was ravaged, perhaps beyond redemption, by the Muslim invasions after 1000 AD and the five- six centuries of fierce Muslim rule. There is more truth there — and cause for meditation — than in Chaudhuri’s idea in Circe that the people of India are really "Europeans" who have been debilitated and ravaged by the Indian climate.
"Scholar Extraordinary: The Life Of Friedrich Max Müller (1974) should have dealt with the 19th century development of the Aryan idea. Chaudhuri didn’t have the scholarly equipment. The book was no more than an uncritical trawl through the Max Müller family papers. It was the last time I tried to read Chaudhuri.
"In 1966 I worked very hard to persuade my fellow judges to give Chaudhuri the Duff Cooper prize — not, of course, for The Continent of Circe, but for The Autobiography. John Julius Norwich told me later that Chaudhuri (who was ill- favoured and dwarfish) had spent some part of his prize on "male toiletries". This was unexpected enough.
I had no idea then that the prize was going to lead to the man settling in England and setting himself up as a clown in Oxford for his last thirty years." If only dead men could talk. Or will Paul Theroux pen a rejoinder?