With Dr Zareer Masani’s death last week, the country has lost a fine historian and academic. Born in Bombay in 1948, Dr Masani moved to Britain in the early 1970s and lived there for the rest of his life. He spent two decades as a current affairs producer for the BBC before moving on to work as a historian. Amongst other things, he served as a member of Policy Exchange’s History Matters advisory board. Notably, Masani defended controversial monuments shortly after the initial Black Lives Matter protests of 2021.
Above all else, Masani should be remembered for his moral and intellectual courage in the face of an ideology which sought to alter and denigrate our understanding of our shared past. In 2013, after the President of India’s BJP Party, Rajnath Singh, denounced the widespread use of the English language, Dr Masani published a biography of Thomas Babington Macaulay, the politician, intellectual reformer and promoter of English on the subcontinent. He argued that despite recent ‘decolonising’ revisionism around Macaulay’s views, he “is still celebrated as a saviour by many Dalits [formerly “untouchables”] who believe that his progressive educational ideas freed them from caste tyranny.” Masani reminds us that Macaulay was an intellectual who brought positive public policy to India, some of which still plays a role in the country today.
Masani was not afraid to write on hotly contested topics. He often clashed with members of the Indian political elite – but was always driven by his research, not by ideological preconceptions. His final article for The Daily Telegraph in June criticised Hindu Nationalism and challenged its account of Mahatma Gandhi’s legacy. He was fiercely critical of the neglect of India’s historical treasures and a strong advocate against restitution; arguing that the Elgin Marbles, Koh-i-Noor diamond and Amaravati Marbles all belong in Britain.
Masani’s work was instrumental in broadening the debate around Britain’s historical legacy. Today, universities are actively considering the ‘decolonising’ of curriculums; authorities are debating the removal of statues of historical figures from public squares; and other institutions – including the National Trust – are considering how to address their links to past wrongs. Across the board, the speed and scale of what is happening is striking – as institutions seek to insulate themselves from the charge of ‘being on the wrong side of history’. Masani’s authoritative and unpartisan recollections of Britain’s Imperial past are more desperately needed than ever. His book, Indian Tales Of The Raj, reminds readers of the complexities of Britain and India’s shared history, and the difficulty of arguments which seek to eradicate nuance in search of a simple narrative.
Masani’s work will help to ensure that future debates about history are rooted in evidence and historical fact. He was a fierce critic of attempts to politicise recollections of the past and repeatedly warned against the uncritical acceptance of Edward Said’s “unhistorical prejudices towards the British” in both India and Britain. It is hoped that many of our own academics learn these lessons.
He leaves behind a legacy marked by his passionate engagement with history as his contributions continue to influence discussions on how history is taught and understood in the UK. Masani’s scholarship will continue to shape an important area of historical debate. From his more personal writings, like his family memoir And All is Said: Memoir of a Home Divided to his biting historical tomes: Indira Gandhi: A Biography, Indian Tales of the Raj and India from Raj to Rajiv, it is vital that students of history and the British Empire continue to read his work.