Who Is Savarkar? A Candid Look Beyond the “Veer”

I’ve got people around me well-wishers, friends, even some family who hoist Vinayak Damodar Savarkar up as “Veer,” a hero of India’s freedom fight, a lion against the British. They point to his years in the Andamans, his fiery words, his “Hindutva” badge, and nod like he’s the unsung savior we should all salute. But history’s got a way of peeling back the shine, and as a Kannadiga who loves digging past the myths like that cobra-in-the-yard nonsense my wife once bought into I can’t let this one slide. Savarkar’s story isn’t the clean hero arc some want it to be. It’s messier, murkier, and I’m putting it down here for my blog, for the record, because truth doesn’t bend to fandom.

The Early Fire Real, But Brief

Vinayak Damodar Savarkar

Let’s give him his due first, because I’m not here to trash without reason. Savarkar started hot born 1883 in Maharashtra, a Chitpavan Brahmin with a spark. As a kid, he led a gang to stone a mosque during riots at 12 reckless, but it shows he had guts early. By his 20s, he was in London, law student by day, revolutionary by night. He founded Abhinav Bharat, smuggled guns (20 Brownings, one used to kill a Nashik collector in 1909), and wrote The Indian War of Independence a bold take on 1857 that the British banned. Arrested in 1910, shipped to the Andamans for two life terms (50 years total), he faced Kala Pani’s hell torture, isolation, the works. That’s the Savarkar fans clutch like a trophy: “See? He suffered for us!”

Fair enough he did. I’m no stranger to Karnataka’s own rebels, like Kittur Rani Chennamma or Mailara Mahadevappa, who died fighting the British. Savarkar’s early fire fits that mold. But here’s where the hero tale cracks.

The Petitions and the Pivot

By 1911, a year into his sentence, Savarkar started writing mercy petitions seven, maybe 15, depending who you ask (historians like Vikram Sampath and Niranjan Takle tally them). These weren’t just “let me out” notes. He pledged loyalty to the British, promised to ditch violence, even offered to serve their laws if freed. One from 1920 says he’d join “constitutional activity” and stay quiet politically. The British didn’t bite till 1924, when they let him out on condition he stay in Ratnagiri and zip it. He signed up. Contrast that with Bhagat Singh, hanged at 23, or Netaji Bose, who fought till the end. Savarkar’s “Veer” tag starts looking shaky when you see him bend.

Then there’s the shift. Pre-jail Savarkar wrote of Hindu-Muslim unity in his 1857 book admirable, even if naive. Post-jail? He’s the Hindutva guy, coining it in 1923 while still locked up, pushing a Hindu-first India that didn’t just sideline Muslims but vilified them. By the 1930s, as Hindu Mahasabha president, he’s cheering Hitler’s discipline, urging Hindus to militarize, and brace yourself later justifying violence against Muslim women as payback for history. This isn’t freedom-fighting; it’s factionalism dressed as patriotism.

The Gandhi Shadow and 2014 Hype

Here’s the gut punch: Savarkar hated Gandhi. He mocked non-violence, refused to honor Kasturba Gandhi’s death, and when Gandhi was shot in 1948 by Nathuram Godse a Mahasabha man Savarkar was arrested. Acquitted for lack of proof, sure, but Godse idolized him, and the stench lingers. Critics say he greenlit division; fans say he was framed. Me? I see a guy who’d rather split us than unite us ironic for a “freedom” icon.

And this 2014 “real freedom” nonsense Kangana Ranaut parroted? Savarkar’s dead by 1966 decades before Modi’s BJP win. The idea that 1947 was “bheekh” (alms) and 2014 was the true dawn insults every Kannadiga martyr who fought before either date. My village didn’t beg; it bled. Kangana’s rant got my blood up, but it’s Savarkar’s own words petitions, Hindutva rants that show he’s no unblemished “Veer.”

The Real Record

I’m not saying he’s a villain with no spine. He suffered, he sparked something early credit where it’s due. But history doesn’t lie: 585 prisoners were in Kala Pani; 173 were executed, per records; only a handful wrote mercy pleas Savarkar and his brother Ganesh topped that list. He didn’t just survive; he switched sides, then fanned flames that burn us still. Compare that to my lost love she was urban-smart, rural-true, and would’ve seen through this hero myth in a heartbeat.

So, to my well-wishers, I get why you salute him pain’s a powerful badge. But don’t polish him into what he wasn’t. Freedom wasn’t his gift to us; it was ours, won by millions, not handed over when he swapped pens for pleas.

The villages I came from taught me grit; Bengaluru’s IT mess taught me to question. Savarkar’s no hero of mine he’s a man who started bold, then settled for less. History says so.