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The Legacy of the Progressive Writer’s Association Needs to be Reclaimed

Shahaan Alam

The Progressive Writers’ Association (PWA) was founded in London in 1934 by Indian writers and intellectuals such as Sajjad Zaheer and Mulk Raj Anand. Its aim was to use literature to address pressing social issues like poverty, colonial oppression, and communalism. Officially inaugurated in Lucknow in 1936, the PWA sought to create a new literature based on social realism, anti-fascism, and progressive ideals. It championed the cause of the oppressed and promoted equality through art, playing a crucial role in shaping modern Indian literature as a force for political and social change.

Historical Formation of the PWA

The PWA’s formation was deeply connected to global political upheavals and India’s anti-colonial struggle. Emerging during a period marked by the Great Depression, the rise of fascism, and the spread of socialist movements, the association offered an intellectual response to these cataclysmic events. Disillusionment with capitalism, triggered by the Wall Street crash of 1929 and the growth of fascist powers in Europe, convinced many intellectuals of the need for socially committed, anti-fascist art. In this international context, the PWA was formally established in London in 1935 and in Lucknow in 1936, led by Sajjad Zaheer, Mulk Raj Anand, and Premchand.

The Urdu collection Angarey (1932), featuring stories by Zaheer, Ahmad Ali, and Rashid Jahan, marked its intellectual beginning. Drawing inspiration from figures such as André Gide, and organizations like the International Congress for the Defence of Culture (Paris, 1935), Indian writers in London drafted the PWA manifesto. This called for literature grounded in social realism, anti-fascism, and anti-colonialism.

The PWA’s ideological framework was shaped by the Soviet model of socialist realism. Soviet cultural policy after the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution emphasized the writer’s role as an agent of social change; this ethos inspired Indian intellectuals to view literature as a tool for justice and equality. The PWA’s manifesto urged writers to depict real-life conditions, reject mysticism and escapism, and champion the oppressed. It identified imperialism, fascism, and reactionary religiosity as primary adversaries, aligning itself with global struggles for decolonization and socialist internationalism. The PWA’s first conference in Lucknow (1936) brought together Nehruvian progressives and Marxist writers, fusing creativity with activism.

Angarey: A Radical Literary Revolt

Published in 1932, Angarey stands as a radical turning point in Indian literary and political history. Compiled by Sajjad Zaheer, Ahmed Ali, Rashid Jahan, and Mahmud-uz-Zafar, the anthology boldly critiqued patriarchy, religious orthodoxy, and colonialism with unapologetic realism. The stories fearlessly explored themes such as women’s sexuality, class contradictions, and religious dogma, asserting that no subject was off-limits for literature. The book’s candidness provoked outrage among fundamentalists, leading to its ban in 1933, but also galvanized young writers to see literature as a weapon of truth and transformation. This momentum led to the first All-India Progressive Writers’ Conference in Lucknow in 1936.

Angarey’s legacy fueled subsequent generations of progressive writers, notably Ismat Chughtai and Saadat Hasan Manto. Chughtai’s works challenged taboos around female sexuality and domestic life, while Manto’s stories examined communal violence and social hypocrisy during Partition. Angarey’s thematic courage and realism helped shape the moral foundations of postcolonial Indian literature.

The PWA Manifesto

Drafted in London in 1935 and adopted in Lucknow in 1936, the PWA manifesto is one of India’s most visionary cultural documents. Initially translated into Hindi by Munshi Premchand and circulated through influential journals, the manifesto encapsulated the ideology of the Progressive Movement. It opened by asserting that “radical changes are taking place in Indian society” and called upon writers to capture these transformations and promote scientific rationalism in literature.

The manifesto rejected idealism and mysticism, urging writers to confront reactionary tendencies regarding family, religion, sex, war, and society. It emphasized literature’s social mission: “The new literature of India must deal with the basic problems of hunger and poverty, social backwardness and political subjection.” It called for social and political reform, aligning literature with the struggles of workers, peasants, and women, and encouraged early feminist voices that would later inspire writers like Ismat Chughtai and Manto. When Premchand presided over the first All-India conference in 1936, he reiterated that literature must serve as “a mirror to society” and “a tool in the struggle for truth and justice.”

Progressive Muslim Voices

The PWA included many progressive Muslim writers influenced by Marxism and socialist ideals, such as Hasrat Mohani, Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Ahmed Ali, Saadat Hasan Manto, Ismat Chughtai, Majrooh Sultanpuri, Majaz Lakhnawi, and Ali Sardar Jafri. These writers promoted secularism, modernity, and critique of communalism and patriarchy, opposing sectarian divisions. Manto’s stories about Partition, for example, powerfully documented communal violence and its human toll.

Many Muslim writers opposed Partition, viewing it as a tragedy of communal politics. Their works captured both the hope and disappointment of independence. The iconic poem by Faiz Ahmad Faiz reflects this poignantly:

ye daaġh daaġh ujālā ye shab-gazīda sahar

vo intizār thā jis kā ye vo sahar to nahīñ

ye vo sahar to nahīñ jis kī aarzū le kar

chale the yaar ki mil jā.egī kahīñ na kahīñ

(This stained, pitted first-light, this daybreak battered by night,

This dawn that we all ached for, this is not that one.

This is not that dawn for which we had set out,

Convinced that somewhere, somewhere we would find.)

Similarly, Asrarul Haq Majaz used metaphor to evoke female empowerment:

tire māthe pe ye āñchal bahut hī ḳhuub hai lekin

tū is āñchal se ik parcham banā letī to achchhā thā

(Your veil on your forehead is very beautiful indeed, but

It would have been better if you had made this into a flag.)

These verses symbolize the progressive Muslim writers’ spirit, blending secular humanism with a call for social change. However, their marginalization after independence led to the rise of orthodox revivalism within Muslim communities, undermining the rationalist ethos PWA espoused.

Reclaiming the PWA’s Legacy

The PWA’s legacy, shaped by struggles against colonialism and fascism, contrasts sharply with today’s neoliberal India. Economic and social shifts since the 1990s have eroded the association between literature and mass movements, deepening inequality and weakening collective consciousness. Dissent is increasingly suppressed; activists and intellectuals are stigmatized, and free speech is curtailed. The saffronization of education threatens rationalism and secularism, and critical thought is excluded from curricula.

India’s political climate today draws uncomfortable parallels with dystopian visions such as Orwell’s 1984, marked by historical revisionism, censorship, and state surveillance. Fundamentalism rises across religions, fragmenting social solidarity and undermining the values for which the PWA stood.

Reviving the PWA’s activist legacy requires reconnecting art and literature to real struggles, confronting injustice, and defending truth, resistance, and solidarity. This is not mere nostalgia but an urgent call to forge a progressive path rooted in justice, equality, and secular humanism for contemporary India.

[Shahaan Alam is a student at the Aligarh Muslim University with an interest in Political Science. Courtesy: Countercurrents.org, an India-based news, views and analysis website, that describes itself as non-partisan and taking “the Side of the People!” It is edited by Binu Mathew.]

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Urdu Poet Josh Malihabadi (1898-1982) was a Fiery Voice of Freedom

Hilal Fareed

Kaam hai mera taghayyur, naam hai mera shabaab

Mera naara – Inqilab o Inqilab o Inqilaab!

[My mission is transformation, my name is youth

My slogan – Revolution and Revolution and Revolution!]

By the early decades of the 20th century – shaped by the trauma of colonial subjugation, the aftermath of World War I, and the rising tide of resistance – the Indian subcontinent had entered an era of intense nationalism and revolutionary fervour. Iqbal’s powerful verse had already ushered in a new sensibility in Urdu poetry, while Marxist ideas were beginning to shape the intellectual landscape by offering a framework for resisting imperial exploitation.

Amidst this charged atmosphere, few voices rang with as much passion, defiance, and revolutionary energy as that of Josh Malihabadi. Hailed as Shair-e-Inqilab (Poet of the Revolution), Malihabadi distinguished himself through the uncompromising intensity of his poetic vision and a bold, declamatory style that fused literary grandeur with political audacity. His poetry was never merely an aesthetic pursuit; it was a thundering call for justice, freedom, and human dignity. In a tradition often steeped in romantic longing and philosophical introspection, Malihabadi injected a bracing vitality and intellectual daring that redefined the scope and purpose of Urdu verse.

Life and influences

Born Shabbir Hasan Khan in 1898 in Malihabad near Lucknow, Malihabadi came from an aristocratic lineage of poets and scholars. His early education in Arabic, Persian, and Urdu in Lucknow and Sitapur was followed by brief stints at Aligarh Muslim University and later at Tagore’s Visva-Bharati in Shantiniketan. Although he never completed a formal degree, his linguistic brilliance and literary ambition were evident from an early age. Among his formative influences were the rhetorical opulence of Persian, the humanist spirit of Tagore, and the emancipatory ideals of nationalist politics.

Malihabadi’s life spanned the most turbulent decades of modern South Asian history – India’s struggle for freedom, the trauma of Partition, and the evolving politics of postcolonial identity. He contributed to nationalist journals, edited literary magazines, and remained at the centre of intellectual and political debates of his time. His autobiography, Yaadon Ki Baarat (A Procession of Memories), is one of Urdu’s most vivid and controversial memoirs, revealing a flamboyant personality, sharp intellect, and unshakable belief in both political and personal freedom.

Malihabadi was closely aligned with the Progressive Writers’ Movement, which saw literature as a tool for social reform and anti-colonial resistance. While he shared the movement’s secular, egalitarian, and realist ethos, he remained stylistically individualistic:

Muflis hoon magar waris-e-fitrat hoon main

Asrar-e-payambari ki daulat hoon main

Ae lamha-e-maujood, adab se paish aa

Aainda zamane ki amaanat hoon main

[I may be poor, but I am the true heir to nature

and the treasure of the prophetic secrets;

O present moment, be reverent to me –

For I am the wealth that belongs to the future.]

He was awarded the Padma Bhushan – India’s third-highest civilian honour – in 1954. However, in 1956, amidst growing political disillusionment and perhaps a sense of cultural alienation, Malihabadi migrated to Pakistan – despite the objections of his friend and admirer, Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. Though initially embraced by Pakistan’s literary circles and later honoured with the Sitara-e-Imtiaz, Malihabadi would eventually express deep regret over his migration, famously remarking that he felt “like an orphan” after leaving India.

Many critics believe that the creative zenith of his career remained tied to the pre-Partition Indian context, when his poetry was most powerfully charged with the spirit of resistance. In Pakistan, although he continued to write, his output diminished, and the tone of his verse became more introspective. Nevertheless, until his death in 1982, Malihabadi remained intellectually active – an unwavering advocate of poetic freedom and secular humanism.

Themes

Malihabadi’s poetry spans a striking range of themes – from romantic passion and philosophical reflection to revolutionary nationalism and social justice. His ghazals bear the unmistakable stamp of his voice – burning with intensity, yet often tempered with tenderness:

Soz e gham de ke mujhe usne ye Irshad kiya

Jaa tujhe kashmakash e dahr se azaad kiya

[After giving me the pain of sorrow, she said:

‘Go, I have freed you from all worldly struggles.’]

Dil ki choton ne kabhi chain se rehne na diya

Jab chali sard hava mein ne tujhe yaad kiya

[Jolts to the heart never let me live in peace –

Whenever cold breeze blew, I remembered you.]

Koi aaya teri jhalak dekhi

Koi bola suni teri aawaaz

[If Someone came – I saw your glimpse

If Someone spoke – I heard your voice]

In his nazms, Malihabadi’s range is equally compelling. While he is often remembered for fiery verse, many of his nazms employ a gentler tone, rich in imagery and humanistic sentiment. His poem “Husn aur Mazdoori” reveals his sensitivity to class and gender oppression through the figure of a young female labourer:

Aik dosheeza sadak ki dhoop mein hai beqarar

Choodiyan bajti hein kankar kootne mein bar bar

Choodiyon ke soz mein ye saaz hai kaisa bhara

Ankh mein aansoo bani jati hai jiski har sada

Gard hai Rukhsaar par zulfen ati hein khaak mein

Nazuki bal kha rahi hai deeda e namnaak mein

[A pretty woman is restless under the scorching sun by the road

Her bangles jingle with her poundings on stones

The sound of her bangles, is filled with such sad music –

That each note turns into a tear in the eye.

her cheeks are covered with dust, her tresses are full of sand

tenderness itself is writhing in her tear-filled eyes.]

The poem ends with a passionate plea:

Dast e nazuk ko rasan se ab chhudana chahiye

Is kalai mein to kangan jagmagana chahiye

[These delicate hands must be freed from their chains

These wrists must sparkle with precious bracelets]

Yet it is Malihabadi’s revolutionary nazms – resounding with defiance and calls for mass empowerment – that truly earned him his title. “Shikast-e-Zindan ka Khwab” (The Dream of Breaking the Prison) stands among his most celebrated and pioneering works. This electrifying poem is a stirring call to revolution, embodying the poet’s unshakable faith in the inevitable uprising of the oppressed. Consider the following lines:

Kya Hind ka zindan kaanp raha hai, goonj rahi hein takbeerein

Uktaye hein shayed kuch qaidi aur tod rahe hein zanjeerein

Deewaron ke neeche aa aa kar youn jama hue hein zindaani

Seenon mein talatum Bijlee ka , aankhon mein jhalakti shamsheerein

Kya un ko khabar thi seenon se jo khoon churaya karte the

Ek roz isi berangi se, jhalken gee hazaaron tasweeren

Kya un ko khabar thi honton par jo qufl lagaya karte the

Ek roz isi khamoshi se tapken gi dahakti taqreeren

Sanbhlo ke wo zindan goonj utha, jhapto ke wo qaidi chhoot gae

Uttho ke wo baitheen deewaren, daudo ke wo tooteen zanjeeren

[Is the prison of India trembling? Echoes of war cries are all around.

Perhaps some prisoners are fed up – and are now breaking their chains.

Beneath the prison walls, the inmates are assembling;

Their chests are agitated with thundering rage, their eyes flash like drawn swords.

Did they know – the ones who used to rob blood from chests –

That one day, out of this colourlessness, thousands of images would emerge?

Did they know – the ones who locked lips shut –

That one day, from this very silence, fiery speeches would flow?

Beware! The prison is shaking with sounds. Pounce – the captives are breaking free.

Rise – the walls have collapsed. Run – the chains are snapping apart.]

Malihabadi’s true poetic mastery is perhaps most evident in his Rubaiyat – four-line poems composed in specified meters typically following the AABA rhyme scheme. He authored over a thousand rubaiyat, many of them bold, philosophical, and unabashedly provocative:

Laila e sukhan ko aankh bhar kar dekho

Qaamoos o lughaat se guzar kar dekho

Alfaaz ke sar par nahin udte maani

Alfaaz ke seene mein utar kar dekho

[Gaze at the beloved of poetics to your fill

Go and look beyond dictionaries and lexicons.

Meanings do not hover above their surface

dive deep into the heart of the words and find them.]

Kya sheikh mile ga gul feshani kar ke

Kya paega tauheen e jawani karke

Too Aatish e dozakh se drata hai unhein

Jo aag ko pi jate hein paani kar ke

[O sheikh! What will you gain by scattering flowers?

What will you achieve by insulting the passion of youth?

You try to scare us with the fire of hell –

We can drink fire as if it was water!]

Unlike many contemporaries who treated religion as either sacred dogma or private belief, Malihabadi used religious imagery as a vehicle for progressive and universalist ideals. His depictions of Karbala, for instance, are not mournful but militant – framing Imam Hussain as a symbol of resistance:

Kar diya saabit ye toone ae dilawar aadmi

Zindagi kya maut se leta hai takkar aadmi

Kaat sakta hai rag e gardan se khanjar aadmi

Lashkaron ko raund sakte hein bahattar aadmi

Zauf dha sakta hai qasr e afsar o aurang ko

Aabgine tod sakte hein hisar e sang ko

[It has been proven by you, O brave Man –

Not just life, death can be boldly confronted by a man

Sharp daggers can be blunted by the Jugular of a man

And armies can be trampled by just seventy-two men

The disparaged can bring down palaces and thrones –

And delicate glass can cut through stone walls.]

His poetry often espoused radical humanism – calling for solidarity across lines of religion, caste, and nationality. His stanzas, like the following, demand tolerance and warn against hatred even of those who differ:

Ae dost dil mein gard o kadurat na chahiye

Achche to kya bure se bhi wehshat na chahiye

Kehta hai kaun phool se raghbat na chahiye

Kante se bhi magar tujhe nafrat na chahiye

Kante ki rag mein bhi hai lahu sabzazaar ka

Paala hua hai wo bhi naseem e bahaar ka

[O friend! Let there be no dirt or malice in the heart

Don’t spite the good, nor dread the bad

Who says you shouldn’t love the flower?

But do not hate the thorn either

For even in the veins of thorn flows the blood of the garden,

And it too is nurtured by the breeze of spring]

At times, Malihabadi’s verse veers into anti-theological terrain, challenging orthodox conceptions of God and questioning divine justice:

Ye naar e jahannam ye saza kuch bhi nahin

Ye dagh dagha e roz e jaza kuch bhi nahin

Allah ko qahhar batane walo

Allah to rahmat ke siwa kuch bhi nahin

[This fire of hell, this talk of retribution – means nothing.

This anxiety about Judgement Day – means nothing.

O you who keep announcing Allah as “wrathful”,

Allah is nothing but limitless mercy!]

His critics – particularly from religious quarters – accused him of atheism, but this misreads his stance. Josh did not reject faith; he rejected its ossification into dogma.

Style and aesthetics

Malihabadi’s poetry is marked by oratorical grandeur, rhythmic cadence, and elevated diction. Influenced by Persian classical verse, he favoured long, rolling lines filled with metaphor, abstraction, and rhetorical flourish. His nazms were expansive and philosophical, while his ghazals and rubaiyat showcased precision and stylistic restraint.

In contrast to the delicate lyricism of Mir or the ironic depth of Ghalib, Malihabadi wielded poetry as a weapon. His verses were not carefully shaded critiques but bold proclamations. Where his progressive peers preferred allusion and subtlety, Josh was forthright – electrifying and confrontational. His pen was not a scalpel but a sword.

This uncompromising spirit brought him into conflict with colonial authorities and post-independence regimes alike. It earned him admirers and critics in equal measure – but never indifference.

Among connoisseurs of Urdu poetry, Malihabadi’s genius is undisputed. Yet, it remains puzzling why this towering figure – so prolific, so powerful – has not enjoyed wider public recognition. Was it his iconoclasm, his radicalism, or his refusal to conform?

Whatever the reason, for those who truly understand Malihabadi, his influence is both literary and moral. As a poet, he revitalised the ghazal, expanded the possibilities of the nazm, and raised the rubai to new expressive heights. His fusion of classical form with modern thought created a template for generations of poets seeking to combine aesthetic rigour with political conviction.

More than anything, Malihabadi embodies the Urdu poet as a public intellectual – not merely a mirror of society but its conscience and provocateur. At a time when conformity is rewarded and dissent is silenced, Malihabadi’s poetry remains a beacon of courage, idealism, and faith in the liberating power of language.

Khwab ko jazba-e-bedaar diye jaata hoon

Qaum ke haath mein talwaar diye jaata hoon

[I depart, having stirred dreams with the spirit of wakefulness –

I depart, having placed a sword in the nation’s hand]

[Courtesy: Scroll.in, an Indian digital news publication, whose English edition is edited by Naresh Fernandes.]