Latest / The Hidden History of Bengal: Kingdoms, Empires, and Revolution — Fexingo History / The Great Bengal Famine of 1770 The Company's Deadliest Harvest
Transcript
- Lucas: So, Luna, today I want to take us back to a year that Bengal has never quite forgotten: 1770. But to understand what happened, we need to start a little earlier. Luna: 1770 — the year the monsoon failed? Lucas: Exactly. But it wasn't just one failed monsoon. The rains had been poor in 1768 as well. By the middle of 1769, the rivers were low, the fields were dry, and the rice crop was already failing. And then came the East India Company's response — or rather, their lack of one. Luna: Hold on — hadn't the Company just taken over the revenue collection a few years earlier? Lucas: Right — in 1765, after the Battle of Buxar, Robert Clive secured the Diwani of Bengal, Bihar, and Orissa for the Company. That gave them the right to collect land revenue — effectively the tax stream that had once gone to the Mughal emperor. And they immediately set up a system designed to maximize that revenue, regardless of what was happening on the ground. Lucas: So in 1769, when the first signs of scarcity appeared, the Company's revenue collectors weren't authorized to reduce the assessment. They were told to squeeze every last rupee out of the peasantry. And the zamindars — the local landlords — were under pressure to deliver their collections or lose their estates. Luna: So nobody had an incentive to say, 'Wait, people are starving'? Lucas: Exactly. The British directors in London were far away, and the local officials were judged by how much money they remitted. So the revenue demand stayed high. Meanwhile, grain merchants — both Indian and European — were hoarding rice, waiting for prices to go even higher. Some of them made enormous profits. Lucas: By the spring of 1770, the countryside was in full crisis. In districts like Birbhum and Nadia, entire villages were abandoned. People ate leaves, then tree bark, then their own cattle. And then they died in heaps along the roads. Luna: How many people died? Lucas: The estimates are staggering. Modern historians think between 8 and 10 million people — roughly a third of Bengal's population at the time. The scale of death is almost impossible to grasp. In some areas, the population didn't recover for over a century. Luna: A third of Bengal — that's almost unimaginable. Lucas: And what makes it worse is that it was preventable. There was food in the country — the Company's own grain stores, the hoarded stocks of merchants. But the market logic of the time said: if you can't pay, you don't eat. And the Company's priority was maintaining its profit flow to London. Lucas: Warren Hastings, who became Governor of Bengal in 1772, later wrote a memo defending the Company's actions. He claimed the famine was 'inevitable' — but even he admitted that the revenue had been collected 'with a rigor that could not be justified.' Luna: So the Company knew they were pushing too hard? Lucas: They knew. And in the years after, their own officials debated what had gone wrong. But no one was ever held accountable. The zamindars lost their lands if they couldn't pay — and many of them were replaced by British overseers. The peasants who survived were left with nothing. Land went fallow, and it took decades to rebuild. Lucas: There's also a quieter story — the resilience of ordinary people. Some families walked hundreds of miles to find food, only to reach the cities and find prices they couldn't afford. Others took to banditry just to survive. The social fabric tore apart in ways that would echo through the next century. Luna: That's the part we don't usually hear about — the long aftermath. Lucas: Right. The famine of 1770 wasn't a single event that ended when the rains came. It created a demographic hole, a shattered peasantry, and a deep distrust of British rule. Some historians argue it was the first of the great colonial famines — a pattern that would repeat in India and elsewhere under British rule. Luna: And all because the Company chose profit over people. Lucas: Exactly. It's a stark reminder that behind every empire's statistic is a human story. And that's something we try to keep in focus here — especially when we think about what it means to produce a show like this, deeply researched but ad-free, supported directly by listeners who care about these stories. Luna: Yeah, it's a good moment to mention that — if anyone's been coming along with us through these conversations about Bengal, and finds value in what we do, we're only able to stay independent because of support from people like you. Lucas: Exactly. If you'd like to help us keep telling these stories without any ads, you can find us at buymeacoffee dot com slash fexingo. That's it — just a simple way to say, 'I appreciate this work.' And every bit helps. Luna: So back to 1770 — it's a heavy story, but it's one that needs to be remembered. Lucas: Absolutely. And in a strange way, the famine also sparked new thinking. Some British officials began to argue that the Company's sole focus on revenue was destructive. Later reforms, like the permanent settlement of 1793, were partly a response to the chaos of those years — though they brought their own problems. Lucas: But that's a story for another episode. For now, let's sit with the image of that empty Bengal — fields returning to jungle, villages reclaimed by the Sundarbans — and the quiet question of what we owe to the people who came before us. Luna: Thanks for listening, and we'll be back next time with another hidden story.