Thursday, 8 December 2011

Concurrency & Ontological dysphoria

This is a lovely essay, by a quite lovely sounding Latin American super-brain, which seeks to make concurrency (Djikstra) a fundamental property of physical systems and revive a Bergsonian sort of notion of Time.

Vide- 'If concurrency is some deeply inherent property of the world, then it would not be a consequence of dynamics, but the fundamental cause of it.
If this hypothesis stands correct, then an insight should be gained on the nature of time, by making our
theories explicilty concurrent. Concurrency should be elevated as a new internal symmetry of the world,in which the probabilistic framework of quantum mechanics would be just an emergent and incomplete
facet of a more heterogeneous underlying substrate. And the reversible or irreversible behavior of a given
system must somehow be attributable to the underlying heterogeneous concurrent correlations.'

The author makes an equation between Time and inertia- Inertial mobility, hence Time, emerges because the Universe avoids deadlock conditions. I take it this is an Anthropic type argument and further suppose 'concurrency as .. internal symmetry' means her proposed model doesn't throw away information and conserves something more fundamental which might knit extant theories together. However, by appealing to a ditopology (so there is local partial order), the essential question of non-metric Bergsonian Time is not addressed. Perhaps, the only way that could be done is by operationalizing something like Ibn Arabi's concept of barzakh or opening the gate to reverse mereology or something equally mystic.

Chrisine Cordula Dantas ends her essay thus- 'In any case, this essay was written presuming that time exists
in some fundamental sense, fully acknowledging, however, the possibility that it may not. If this turns
out to be the case, what are we severely missing? Would we be just a surface of imposed irrelevancies ��
the irrelevancies of time ��, below which the realm of \nature against nature" �� the summit of relativism
�� would forever lie, devoid of its own existence?'


I wonder whether something along these lines might motivate a mathematical Rene Girard to find in Proust, and therefore in Bergsonian Duration, not the Christology of circular sacrifice, but Doestoevkian ontological dysphoria whereby man is a flower not native to this garden. A mathematical Iqbal, however, meeting Bergson in the salon of Concurrency, might find the reverse.

However my real point is that hot Latin American super-brains, like Graciella Chichilnisky, don't make their subject sexy- Krugman did that for Trade theory- but erotic.
What's the difference? Sex isn't necessarily life-giving. Pornography is actually prophylactic. What is life giving is erotic and what is erotic is diffused and divorced from pumping or screwing or some other such plumbing operation.

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Best ghazal ever?- Shakeel Badayuni's mere hum- nafas.

I''ve copied these lyrics from a lovely blog called Mausiki. Click on the link below.

Shakeel Badayuni - mere hum-nafas

mere hum-nafas, mere hum-navaa, mujhe dost banake daGaa na de
mai.n huu.N dard-e-ishq se jaa.N_valab, mujhe zindagii kii duaa na de

Nafas: Breath
Navaa: Sound, Voice
Ham-nafas, Ham-navaa: Friend
Jaan-Valab: Dead
Duaa: Blessing

mere daaG-e-dil se hai raushnii, usii raushnii se hai zindagii
mujhe Dar hai aye mere chaaraagar, ye charaaG tuu hii bujhaa na de

DaaGh: Blemish
Raushnii: Light, Brightness, Illumination
Chaaraagar: Doctor, physician

mujhe ae chho.D de mere haal par, teraa kyaa bharosaa hai chaaraagar
ye terii nawaazishe muKhtasar, meraa dard aur ba.Daa na de

Nawaazish: Kindness, Favor,
Mukhtasar: Abridged, Abbreviated,

meraa azm itanaa bala.nd hai ke paraaye sholo.n kaa Dar nahii.n
mujhe Khauf aatish-e-gul se hai, ye kahii.n chaman ko jalaa na de

Azm: Conviction, Resolve
Baland: Lofty, Strong
Aatish: Fire, Flame, Ember

wo uThe hai.n leke hom-o-subuu, arey o ‘Shakeel’ kahaa.N hai tuu
teraa jaam lene ko bazm me.n koii aur haath ba.Daa na de

Hom: An oblation with clarified butter, a burnt-offering, a sacrifice;
Subuu: Ewer, jar, pitcher, pot, cup, glass
Bazm: Meeting, Assembly



So slain by Love's pain,  do you who, for my longer life yet pray
Ah! Breath of my breath, befriend to but betray?!

My heart's wound,  my Life, my Light's flint-struck spark
Bind not, nor blow out, my sole candle 'gainst the dark!

Breath Control is Divine, Balsamic. Broken breath- Death Orgasmic
How trust to your care- ragged breath'd, threadbare?

 Shakeel's steel, forged in a sighs' fires, fears no inferno of the forger Iyer's
For glows in the Garden, red rose arson, Fear's a poet, Ire a Parson

Thee, we study, understudy & e'en, in vain, understand
Thy wine of immortality yet let pass hand to hand











Monday, 5 December 2011

Draupati & Shikhandini- extract from my novel 'Samlee's daughter'.

In the Mahabharatha, every individual or action has its double or counterpart.
Draupati, the wife of the Pandavas, faces her severest test when Duhshaasan- basest of, her cousins-in-law, the Kauravas- seeks to strip her of her sari in full view of everyone in the audience hall. Her husbands are powerless to come to Draupati’s aid because they themselves have been gambled[1] away into slavery. In the extremity of her distress, Draupati appeals to Lord Krishna- who performs a miracle such that her sari is infinitely lengthened. Thus Duhshasan’s dastardly ploy comes to naught.
The counterpart to this episode is to be found in the story of, Draupati’s sister, Shikhandini.
King Drupada, both girls’ father, had brought Shikhandini up as if she were a boy. He dressed her in manly garments and married her to the daughter of a powerful monarch whose help he needed in order to avenge himself on Drona Bharadvajya.
For obvious reasons, Shikhandini was not able to consummate her marriage. Her father-in-law, becoming suspicious, sends a team of courtesans to test the virility of his daughter’s supposed husband. When the truth becomes known, as now seems inevitable, the powerful King will destroy Drupada’s kingdom. Shikhandini is placed in a very distressing situation. Through no fault of her own, she seems fated to bring down disaster upon her father.
From another point of view, both Draupadi’s and, her sister, Shikhandini’s threatened disrobing draws attention to what they lack- viz. the one decisive counter-blast to the Evil or Avaricious eye- the erect penis. I am not going to dwell on the Freudian ‘castration complex’ or the notion that fetishism is the reparative worship of the lost maternal phallus. To do so would be to indulge in false reductionism, for such notions, it seems to me, belong to an order of cognition different from that at which the ‘Evil Eye’ is encountered, or the Power Politics of the gaze operates. Rather, I appeal to a simpler paleo-logic, or proto-structuralism, which arises from the fact that whereas motherhood is perceived as a splitting, fatherhood is seen as a doubling- such as happens in mirrors. It defeats the Evil eye by pointing to the eternal recurrence of the same. There is a tradition (surely apocryphal), quoted in Tariq Ali’s novel on Saladin, to the effect that Hazrat Ali (the Prophet’s son-in-law) commented that, even in his shroud, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) showed this sign- erect and pointing to Heaven- in a particularly robust and glorious fashion. The meaning is- ‘the Evil Eye of the evil-doers, the blowing on knots of the witches, has not triumphed in the least. No matter what happens, the Prophet’s line will survive to press the battle to victory!’
Returning to Shikhandini, you can imagine her distress as she wanders the wilderness. When she returns to her parent’s palace, as she is honour bound to do, what must inevitably transpire is her own dishonour and the kingdom’s destruction. Fortunately, she meets a yaksha(countryside demigod) who offers to change sex with her. This seems to hint at the paratman parivartana- i.e. the technique of swopping selves that Shantideva tells us, and the first chapter of the Mabniogion illustrates, is the simplest, the quickest, but also the foundation and supreme type, of soteriological technique. But, in this case, it seems, the yaksha is merely a silly fellow- a thrill seeker- Shikhanidini gains no soteriological advantage from an exchange so casually and frivolously entered into.
Why is it a yaksha rather than some other sort of supernatural being? The answer, it seems to me, has to do with the two types of clairvoyance[2] mentioned in the Mahabharata. We can relate this duality to another- viz. the war between the birds and the snakes- which is fundamental to the ‘Book of Origins’. Baldly speaking, we can expect a rivalry between soothsayers who take auguries from birds and those who rely upon snakes. In particular, those chthonic oracles who use krait venom to enter a kinaesthetic trance, in which visions are simultaneous with the utterance of the verse prophesies that describe them, may be supposed to be uncongenial to the more Apollonian outlook of the Bird augerers. Rishi Bharadwaja (the father of Drona and founder of my lineage), who authored several verses in the Rg Veda, would appear, if we take his name to mean ‘he whose flag is the skylark’, to be from the Bird faction. Thus, since Shikhandini’s father wishes to take revenge upon Drona Bharadwajya, it is appropriate that an ‘Earth god’, rather than a ‘Sky god’, comes to her aid. However, in noting this, we are merely scratching the surface of a far more thought provoking question- viz. the difference between the two types of clairvoyance.
At this point, perhaps, all we can do is comment the far more lonely- being a pseudo-intellectual, I am tempted to say ‘existential’- nature of Shikhandini’s predicament as compared to that of her sister. Taken together, the Shikandini/Draupati syzygy defines the aporia of the modern Indian woman. However, whereas Draupati- all of whose children are viciously massacred by the son of Drona- retains through all her tragic vicissitudes a direct channel of communication with God; the plight of Shikhandini, especially after her sex-change, is very different. From the viewpoint of the modern Indian woman, Shikhandini (in her previous incarnation as Amba) suffered inexcusably at the hands of Bhishma. It was because of Bhishma’s officious adherence to the most obsolescent code of Patriarchy- an adherence from which he personally drew no profit- that Amba was unable to marry the man of her choice. She swears revenge and enters the sacrificial fire. Ultimately, Bhishma is brought down but it is not Amba’s reincarnation who strikes the blow. Rather, Shikhandin acts merely as a screen (since Bhishma knows Shikhandin is actually female, he will not fire his arrows at her) behind which Arjuna (whose own sex-change was merely by way of a joke) can safely shoot up the notional ‘grand-sire’ till, a human pin cushion, he rests upon a bed of arrows.
In contemporary terms, we can say that the education of women, their entry into the professions, even the occasional Prime Minister or Chief Minister throw up from their ranks, is merely the Shikhandin screen behind which, not Patriarchy is overthrown, but Gandhi, that Bhishma like celibate, is struck down so that the Kali Yuga of Consumerism can commence.
Draupati lost all her children. But, she was not sterile. She was wedded to all the Gods, all the Religions, of India. We can’t tolerate this. It is indecent. She must pick one and then act as the Shikhandin screen behind which her husband can take aim at the original act of self-sacrifice (and to sacrifice the Self is to sacrifice for all) out of which the Nation was born. 
The Shikhandinis of Fundamentalism are sterile. They are cut off from God. But, if you judge things by externals, they prosper, they will continue to prosper. They will have children, fabulous children, Central Casting’s notion of ideal children- phantasmagoria briefly bestowed and then swallowed back by the Mayin of Consumerism. But, Motherhood, in India, means being Mother for all. These Shikhandinis bear children but never become Mothers.
Who then has Power? Which is the incarnation of Shakti? Is it, can it still be, Draupati, in her torn sari, whom we can see every time we visit a village or slum where a communal massacre has taken place; Draupati who has lost all her children- because, in fratricide, it your own ability to be a son that you kill- is it Draupati or is it Shikhandini, the middle-class rural housewife, or urban professional, who tells you “time those fellows were taught a lesson. Getting too big for their boots. Have you read what all is going on in Punjab/Kashmir/your own backyard?”
Of course, everything I’ve written so far is puerile, pro forma, and simply part and parcel of the bogus breast-beating we self-proclaimed ‘intellectuals’ indulge in because we can’t rise to a connected train of thought, or, more to the point, afford a decent brand of whiskey.
The Draupati/Shikhandini syzygy mirrors another, perhaps more basic duality- viz. that between Ganga, mother of Bhishma, and Satyavati, mother of Krishna Dvaipayana (the author of the Mahabharata) and grand-matriarch of the whole Kaurava/Pandava clan. What Ganga symbolises, I think we all know- but it is an ‘unthought known’- but who is this Satyavati, still so solicitous of sons for even her grandsons, whose name derives from the Sanskrit word for Truth? We read that she was once a foul smelling fisher-woman casting her nets into the waters of the Sarasvati- the river, now vanished, which represents intellectual effort. Having said this, it seems, I have said enough. The relationship between the two syzygies, and how they line up with God, seems obvious. But, to understand the eclipse is not the same as being able to navigate its darkness. Better, as I am drunkenly now doing, just raise up a din to frighten off the demon Rahu- that ‘light of the Public which darkens everything’- and compel the restoration of a more solitary Sun.
Thus, hear me intone-
Tho' its mouth be the desert- of salt or of sand
& vain, Dvaipayana[3], the struggle to understand
I salute the Sarasvati which whispers and winds
 Through the echoing caverns of- closed minds.’


[1]    King Yuddhishtra, head of the Pandavas, is depicted in the Mahabharata as the incarnation of Dharma (Ethical Religion). Yet, he gambles away all he owns (not once, but twice!) thus triggering the apocalypse of Kurukshetra. A tragic flaw (hamartia) makes for interesting theatre, but- since Mahabharata is called ‘fifth Veda’- the whole episode seems rather bizarre. Can it be, as Draupati says, God is at fault for making us merely the puppets of Destiny or (as we might put it) slaves to genetic determinism? No, for this episode explicates Rg Veda 10.34.13, in which, because it can lead to strangers putting hands to strip (parimrshanti) your wife, dice-playing is condemned whereasKrshi (Agriculture) is commended. Actually, as self-reliant hunter-gatherers or nomadic pastoralists might point out, both dice-playing and agriculture are a species of gambling. Furthermore, in so far as they represent putting your faith in God, they are of the type of all Theistic devotion- the Theist takes Pascal’s wager not for the chance of Heaven but purely for the buzz of staking his all! Indeed, we prefer that beloved who might reject us to the one who is constrained to reciprocate. However, since Krishi (agriculture) involves collaborative effort as well as reliance on God (for rain) and since, furthermore, it might yield a surplus in which all can share- even animals benefit for they no longer have to be killed for food- Krishi is better. Moreover, since anxiety re. outcome is prolonged, it yields the greater buzz! On the other hand, it is necessary for a Dharma-Raja (Ethical King) to learn probability and game theory. He has to understand- observing the actual ESS (evolutionary stable strategy) matrix obtaining in different social dilemma situations- that the categorical imperative does not return scalar but vector solutions- i.e. there is a range of acceptable moral responses (i.e. life style & livelihood choices) compatible with Ethics and Morality- provided this mix does not diverge from what is indicated for a globally optimal, incentive compatible, equilibrium. Another point is, redistribution of Wealth by arbitrary fiat is not of itself unethical. Since Yuddhistra had previously stated (aanrśamsyam paro dharmah) that the highest Ethical Religion is to compassionately understand and seek to help all other beings, a convention of redistribution of wealth by lot might actually be a good thing. True, the nightmare Borgesian ‘Lottery in Babylon’ appears to us as a Spiritual Dystopia but this is only because Borges adds atrocious details- e.g. the possibility of Society considering you invisible!- which strike at the foundations of our human ethos.  Another point is, even if we really are, by the Geeta of the present Avatar of Evolutionary Biology, irrevocably ‘yantra anirudha’ (i.e. mounted on molecular D.N.A. machines) & thus disabled from mounting ourselves on Yoga, as Lord Krishna advises, still- by the ‘Extended Phenotype’ principle- All interpenetrate All- albeit merely reflexively- & thus, but admitting the Adullamite longings sheltering in the darkest recesses of the heart’s deep cave, each of us is so sovereignly reinforced as to resistlessly storm the citadel of Non-Duality’s synoptic Jerusalem. Incidentally, let me take this opportunity to refute an unworthy suspicion that may have crossed your mind while ploughing through this footnote. I am notdrunk. On the contrary, I’m very very very drunk. There is a difference. Whatchyu lookin at? Wanna fight? Bring it on! Unless, you’re like a girl or something.  Flaubert spoke of Art as the Soul’s condom. Auden, writing of Yeats’ poetry ‘kept from death by his reader’s mourning tongues’, has introduced the notion of all Space-Time as merely a peppermint flavoured prophylactic. I’m not sure where I’m going with this- but it’s something to think about at any rate. Provided, of course, you’re a bona fide woman- not one of those ‘lady boys’ or shit- unless you are, in which case no offence or nothing but like I’ve had a horrible day- or couple of decades. Anyway, call me. We’ll do lunch.
[2]    Thus pratismriti vidya (on the evidence of the raskshogna mantra R.V.7.104) is Theistic in that it is seen as founding the approach of the Deity whose protection is needed from the evil component of the vision. Sayana explains the context as- Vasishta sees the demon (who has devoured all 100 of his sons) wearing his own form saying “I am Vasishta, you are the demon!” Since clairvoyance is commonly thought to occur by exchange of personalities, the risk of permanent possession (as, I believe, is posed by the cākşuşi vidya offered to Arjuna by a Gandharva intent on making his friend one of his own ‘faery’ order) is combated by an appeal to the Deity. In other words, when experimenting with esoteric mystic faculties, pure undifferentiating Monism could endanger our ethos unless we appeal to embodied God (as guardian of righteousness) to defend us. And, yes, if you must know, I’ve a killer hangover.
[3]   Dvaipayana- Krishna Dvaipayana- the “Dark Island foundling”- also called Ved Vyasa-i.e. compiler of the Vedas- the author of the Mahabharat. The dark, fog bound, island in question lay on the Sarasvati- a river long since swallowed by the desert, or disappeared underground- and which is associated, in Hinduism, with Speech and Learning. Goddess Sarasvati is considered the wife of Lord Brahma- the Creator God and patron of intellectual effort.  The formula ‘Aham Brahmasmi’- ‘I am Brahma’ is one of the mahavakya (great utterances) of Advaita Philosophy. P.S. I will never, never, drink again.

Sunday, 4 December 2011

Tall leaders and the Tropical forest's emergent layer.

/India needs 'tall leaders'. Not physically tall. In Indglish 'tall leader' means something quite different. What?

I suppose Indian political life, to us pygmies at ground zero, is like a tropical rain forest where trees compete for the light by growing taller and taller with the result that the forest canopy is so far above the dark, dank, and inhospitable forest floor, that it has its own micro-climate and mini ecology. Yet towering above even the forest canopy is the 'emergent layer'- of,  stand alone, exceptionally tall trees. Why are they there? What evolutionarily stable strategy do they serve? The answer is that this emergent layer, these exceptionally tall trees, are vital to the forest's ability to renew itself. How so? They create Light, renew Life- but only when they topple over, being internally rotten, and clear a space on the forest floor.



A pygmy, I can't see the Canopy, let alone the Emergent Layer
Yet, Thou, Tropical, Aorist, Thee address in Topical Prayer
That you too, my Indglish readers, pray for Leaders yet more tall
For all Light and Life, in our Forest, from is but their fall.

Thursday, 1 December 2011

Spivak's permanently menstruating subaltern.

Spivak, in her chatty style, tells us her great aunty hanged herself while menstruating. Spivak provides a seemingly culture specific, ‘emic’ explanation (Bengali 'revolutionaries were randy little buggers, so Aunty hanged herself while on the rag so as to show she wasn't preggers). However, in reality, Spivak is giving an ‘etic’ meta-explanation because the mention of menstruation alerts the emic that something etic is going on- territory is being marked- though in fact something monstrous is being conceived by what with dark blood was washed away.
Recall,  Spivak started as a Yeats scholar and is subaltern to Kali worshipping Saktas.


This is Spivak quoted on Wikipedia (she should sue)- 
'subaltern is not just a classy word for oppressed, for Other, for somebody who's not getting a piece of the pie....In postcolonial terms, everything that has limited or no access to the cultural imperialism is subaltern-—a space of difference. Now who would say that's just the oppressed? The working class is oppressed. It's not subaltern....Many people want to claim subalternity. They are the least interesting and the most dangerous. I mean, just by being a discriminated-against minority on the university campus, they don't need the word 'subaltern'...They should see what the mechanics of the discrimination are. They're within the hegemonic discourse wanting a piece of the pie and not being allowed, so let them speak, use the hegemonic discourse. They should not call themselves subaltern.[3]'

Trotsky spoke of Permanent Revolution. What we need today is Permanent Menstruation. The very word proletariat means those who serve the state only by making babies, not husbanding land or earning profits.
Occupy Wall Street and make its gutters overflow with your menstrual blood.

As Lal Salaam, wrote-
 kya ro'en hum mahbas-e-matlab-e-gurez-e-kalam
ki kiya woh haiz ke lattay ko inquilabi alam
Since used tampons as red banners have risen
May this lyric elude lucidity's prison

Monday, 28 November 2011

F.d.i in retail

India, not England, was a nation of shop keepers. Crap shop keepers- gandhis ( a gandhi is a green grocer or perfumer)
India sold itself to England- Seths financed the East India Company- but was paid back with only a small percentage of its own money that it tendered as 'nazrana' . Within India, every caste or creed is about selling your own children into slavery. Warna nazar lag jayega.
The Kirana 'small shop' is a case in point. It is based on exploitation of your own children in order to build capital. But, in India, capital gains of this sort are heavily taxed by the corrupt rent seeking Babu/bandit nexus.

Just as productivity gains have to be made in Agriculture, if Industry is to thrive, so too productivity gains are vital in the pocket retail sector.
I recall walking miles in West Delhi without a cigarette because the kirana stores didn't do tambaku (Sikh fanaticism?) Nor was I well treated by them despite being a large, well spoken, middle aged gentleman wearing an expensive Italian suit.
These little fuckers were looking down their nose at me. Clearly, they need a healthy dose of competition.

The kirana owner cringes to his regular customers but for obscure caste based reasons treats strangers like me like shit. Why? Fucked if I know, but I think these cunts are part of the fucking Indian caste shistem.
Fuck them in the face. They are cunts and they know it.

I have watched Indians being driven out of retail all over the world. They just don't do service. The owner is never around. Th sullen idiot niece or nephew or whatever thinks being rude makes them look good. I notice they tend not to do it to Whites or African people. But, these little shits used to try to be rude to me. I would spend a little time explaining why they were fucking worthless cunts. They were pleased. I had acknowledged that they were too superior to be in retail. Needless to say, Indian retail is a story of strategic bankruptcies- i.e trade creditors being fucked- and real estate gains.
In this country, the first Parsee Lord was, that reckless and relentless self-promoter, Karan Billimoria of Cobra beer. While he ran things, he never made a profit and ended up in administration leaving his suppliers in the lurch. Once in partnership with a proper company, Cobra is making a profit. Why? The Whites understand the retail side. Indians don't. Retail is about understanding what the customer wants, not building patronage networks.

What do the Kinara shops do? They are essentially very cheap distribution arms of Wholesale shite Shite merchants.  The owner is hoping to make his money on real estate which is why he don't fucking care about customer service. These guys need a fucking bomb up their arse.

Indian retail, its Malls, are fucking crap. Absentee landlordism or what? Reliance can't do retail- it can do nothing but fuck the State. Of course, its blindingly obvious, we need FDI in retail. But more than FDI we need foreign Management and M.I.S of retail. Not joint ventures- nobody is going to fall for that any more.

The shit-heads monopolizing everything need an exit strategy-i.e. a way to get money out of India. Also there are merchant bankers who need to cheat some naive foreigners. In other words, business as usual.

But, FDI is necessary. There are good business models out there- not so much names you've heard off but global presences nevertheless- whose Business Model will slash India's retail price inflation.

Also, they will enable the kiranas to spread their wings and start to sing in, that best of Gharanas, the Kirana.

 Kirana shop owners, like money lenders, have non-fungible knowledge. Rationalization of supply chains, or credit lines, helps not hinders them- though a large bunch of them deserve to go to the wall because they refuse to stock what people want for obscurantist, caste based, reasons.

India can't afford to remain a nation of Indian shop-keepers. Indian shop-keepers are shite. When they have to compete with English shopkeepers they suddenly turn polite.
Put them against the best in the world and they will fucking change their spots.
But- Gadkare Sahib- they will still remain deeply shit  in their hearts as is required by Indian Religion and Culture and Gandhi and Nehru and Hazare Ji.
Which don't matter coz they got no hearts.

Fuck Kinaras- they are casteist shite. I know, I know- your own little guy is very obsequious to you. That's not good business, that's feudalism. Don't be a cunt. Let it go.

Hasrat Mohani vs Mahatma Gandhi.

Though born to a lower middle class Jewish family, Rufus Isaacs, like Jinnah, rose to become one of the great barristers of his day. As a politician, he gathered up all the glittering prizes- he was a Cabinet Minister, Lord Chief Justice, an Ambassador to the U.S, and finally Viceroy of India.
His aim was to give India full provincial autonomy in return for co-operation from Indian politicians- hoping that the older moderates, many of whom had proven administrative talents, would school the young radicals in responsible government.
 Rufus Isaacs wished to use all his discretionary powers as Viceroy on the side of the Nationalists in India so as to prevent it turning into another Ireland- then experiencing the horrors of  Civil War. This was because, Rufus was a Liberal and his party had been torn apart over Ireland. Moreover, as a Jew, he hated racial or creedal animosity and well knew that they fester most when responsible, representative, self government is denied.
Meanwhile, Mahatma Gandhi had promised to deliver 'Swaraj' within a year, thus at last out-flanking Annie Beasant who was the great orator of the age. However, Gandhi refused to say what Swaraj actually meant.
Rufus Isaacs- or Lord Reading as that swindling Jew had taken to calling himself- tried to trick our great Mahatma into speeding up the handover of power by 15 years. However, Gandhiji- who, I may mention, was of purely Aryan descent- was able to see through this Semitic plot to get the British out of India. Not so, alas! Maulana Hasrat Mohani, the tender hearted Urdu poet as I read here.
Gandhi's true brilliance arises from his immaculate logic. Hindus and Muslims have different creeds. Maulana Hasrat had accepted the Muslim creed. Gandhi had accepted some creed or other- maybe even Hinduism. Since 'creeds aren't such simple things like clothes which a man can change at will and since, for creeds, people live from age to age', it therefore followed that one should go on demanding Swaraj, since that was the Congresswallah's creed and creeds must be kept up, but never give the British any opportunity or excuse for escaping from the burden of ruling India.
Nothing can bring about the 'absolute and indissoluble union of Hindus and Muslims'- since both are 'creeds' and 'creeds can't be changed at will and persist from age to age- it therefore follows that Indians should never accept Swaraj of any sort. They should non-cooperate with evil Jewish swindlers who are trying to make India self-governing so that it will become rich and import more goods and services from England.
This is the truly devilish aspect of Western Civilization as revealed by 'Hind Swaraj'. Those bastards not only rule over us, they also want to make us rule ourselves as that is the only way we can  become more prosperous and strong. Why? Only so they can make more money by selling things to us. Only so they can feel more secure by entering into defence pacts with us.
This is the true 'sitam zareefi' of the British tyrant. In Mohani's ghazals, we look in vain for such ingenuity on the part of the tyrant-beloved, in contriving chains for the hapless lover. But the Mahatma saw farther than the 'Progressive' poet. After all, he alone had, entirely gratuitously, offered his own life as a sacrifice on the battlefield for his King-Emperor, not once but three times.
The British broke Gandhi's heart. In the end, the bastards just left. Worse, they continue to rub salt in the wound by saying it was Gandhi who chased them away!
Not Mohani, not Firaq, only Ghalib could foresee such cruelty!

{77,1}

zaḳhm par chhiṛkeñ kahāñ t̤iflān-e be-parvā namak
kyā mazah hotā agar patthar meñ bhī hotā namak


Majnun, the thoughtless tots who wound you are not without fault
Ah! What pleasure would there be if their rocks too were salt?