This is a rerun of a fascinating woman who has stuck in my mind since I first wrote about her. I'm waiting for the movie!
When times are frightening, worry comes easily. It’s much harder to be the one to step forward into harm's way.
Recently, my attention was drawn back to World War II
and one of its greatest heroines, aka the “Spy Princess.”
I am thankful for what she did—and I wish more people knew about her.
Noor Inayat Khan was born in 1914, with a background that
feels uncannily familiar to my own. She had a father born in India, and a
mother from the West. A cross-cultural marriage at that time seems unlikely--but it really occurred.
Noor’s mother, Ora Ray Baker, was born in Albuquerque, New
Mexico. At age 20, Ora Ray attended a lecture in San Francisco given by Inayat Khan, a musician born in Punjab in the Sufi dervish tradition. Ora asked him
for an interview, and the two fell in love and married. Inayat came from a
fascinating lineage: his own father was Maula Baksh, founder of a famed music
academy in Baroda named the Gyanshala, and her grandmother was Casimebi, a
descendent of Tipu Sultan, the Muslum ruler of Mysore who died fighting the
British in 1799.
Performer Mata Hari with the Royal Hindustan Orchestra |
The daring young couple married in London, and Ora Ray took
the Muslim name of Amina Sharada Begum and began dressing only in sari to show
her enthusiasm for India. She traveled the world with the musical group that
Rahmat Khan founded, the Royal Hindustan Orchestra. Their eldest child, Noor,
was born on January 1, 1914 in Moscow. After the outbreak of the Great War, the
family fled to England. During their years in London, Inayat performed for both
Mahatma Gandhi and Indian soldiers convalescing in hospital—as well as for
grand opera productions such as Lakme
that capitalized on the European interest in the Far East. Inayat came under
government suspicion due to his connection to Gandhi and his skill at establishing
Muslim and Indian community groups in Britain. He was seen as a risk to the
stability of the British Empire. So in 1920, the family shifted to Tremblaye, France,
so the musical group and other activities could continue without as much
surveillance.
Noor plays the sitar |
Noor grew up with interests in poetry and mysticism, as
would seem natural for someone with such a creative family life rooted in the
Sufi tradition. Her happy life changed in 1927, when Inayat Khan traveled back to
India to see his family, and fell ill and died in Delhi. So it was under tragic
circumstances that the fourteen-year-old Noor had her first visit to India in
1928, to pay respects along with the rest of her family at Rahmat’s tomb. Now
she had to be the mother leading the family in their existence in France,
because her grieving mother retreated in to a life of seclusion. Their Indian uncles
living in France supported them financially. Noor played sitar, piano and harp;
but she also had the gift of story. After attending a French university, she began
a career writing children’s stories and translating Indian stories into English.
Then the Germans invaded France. Their way of life had ended. This was a
watershed moment for the family who had grown up believing strongly in
nonviolence. Would they aid the British, who had been the enemy of their
father?
Noor as "Nora Baker" serving with the SOE |
Noor understood the the danger of the Nazis. She and her
brothers felt called to support the resistance, and they decided the best way
to do that seemed to return to England and offer their service. Here she used
the name Nora Baker to fit in with the other women workers and not attract
suspicion due to her half-Indian heritage. The story of her childhood and the challenge she faced is well-described in a biography by Shrabani Basu. A PBS documentary-drama, Enemy of the Reich, is another take on her story.
Noor was one of the first women radio operators trained in
Morse Code—and decoding messages for the government could have been the extent
of her work, save for one fact. She was a fluent French speaker, and that
attracted the attention of the office of the Special Operations Executive
(SOE), the famed espionage organization set up by the British to sabotage Nazi
operations in Europe. Noor was interviewed by Selwyn Jepson, the British crime
writer who became the SOE’s chief recruiter. Jepson asked if she would be willing
to travel back to France and transmit messages. He said she would not be
protected by international laws of warfare, and only receive ordinary service
pay that would be held for her in England and given to her upon return—or to
her survivors, if she didn’t.
Despite the danger of job, Noor immediately agreed. While
Jepson felt confident about her, other men in the SOE were concerned that
perhaps she was too naïve and honest. Her own father had taught her that the
worst sin was to lie. While in training as an agent in Britain, she spoke to a
police officer who stopped her and said she was in the SOE—a major mistake. She
was counseled and allowed to continue, in large part because her speed and
skill at transmitting messages was top notch.
Noor parachuted into France in 1943, clinging fast to the
30-pound suitcase carrying all her transmission equipment and false identity
papers naming her “Jeanne-Marie.” Her codename, “Madeleine,” was one she chose
from the stories she wrote. Just like her own mother--she had changed identity. Noor's first action was to unite with the spy network,
Prosper, to which she was assigned; but within a week, all of the members of the group were betrayed and arrested. The rookie espionage agent was on her own. The London office ordered
her to return—but she refused, saying that since she was the only information
conduit from Paris, she would stay until a replacement came. The government
knew her capture was inevitable, but saw her act as the sacrifice of a soldier
in the line of duty.
"Jeanne-Marie" worked hard sending messages and running from one part
of Paris to the next, evading capture several times. She was doing the work of
a six-person group alone. She communicated with a small group of French agents as
well as the British. Some of her achievements during her first four months of
work were identifying places for British to drop arms, assisting agents in
getting out, managing distribution of arms, and insuring the escape of 30
airmen who’d been shot down in France.
The Germans knew of her existence, so she began changing her
hair color—first to red, and then to blonde—and went back to the old
neighborhood where she’d lived as a child. Former neighbors were willing to
take her in, despite the danger she posed.
With the frequent captures of agents all around her, she
must have known how close she was dancing to the fire. One day, she went to
meet Canadian agents per London’s directions; the problem was, the Canadians
had been captured and the people she met were non-German Nazis. Noor worked
unknowingly with them for several weeks, but she was ultimately arrested and
questioned in a Gestapo interrogation prison set up in an elegant mansion at 84
Avenue Foch. Unfortunately, it took quite a while for the British to understand
she’d been captured—they kept sending messages on the radio, and the Germans
answered using false information.
Other people held at the same time said that Noor resisted
giving information even under torture. She attempted escape at least twice; in the
end she was kept in solitary confinement and shackled. I can only imagine how
dispiriting this must have been, and I wonder if she turned to the prayers and
songs of her childhood for comfort.
The war had definitively turned in the Allies’ favor in September, 1944, and
it became crucial for the Nazis to eliminate imprisoned agents who might later
reveal their actions during the war. Noor and other women resistance agents
were transferred from France to Germany and the Dachau
concentration camp in Germany.
There, Noor was identified as an especially dangerous type—they called her “the
Creole” and was given the most sadistic treatment. She spent her sole night at
Dachau being kicked and beaten and was ultimately shot to death along with the
other women agents. It was September 13, 1944—seven months before the camp was
liberated by the Allies.
Noor Inayat Khan was just one of many women working
against Hitler who were killed in the line of duty. She is popularly called her the “Spy Princess” due
to the longago link to Tippu Sultan, although she was by no means a royal.
Noor never was able to see her family after leaving England for France in 1943--and she certainly didn't get the service pay the British government promised for her service. But she was one of three SOE women awarded the George Cross,
and she also received the French Croix se Guerre.
Five years ago, the British artist Karen Newman sculpted her
image. Her likeness stands in London’s Gordon Square near her former childhood
home. Fortunately, it does not say "Spy Princess," a title she would never have been called, had she lived. Noor's face holds a quiet, melancholy expression--as if she knows this, too.
Thank you for this story, Sujata. An amazing life and death.
ReplyDeleteSujata, what a woman! What a story! Thank you for telling here. So much.
ReplyDeleteThere were so may heroes in that war that we will never know all their names. This is one I will remember. Thanks, Sujata!
ReplyDeleteWhat an incredible and courageous woman! I hope she is well-known in France and India.
ReplyDeleteAnother unsung hero.
I'm as impressed by the tale as by the teller! It never fails to amaze me at how many men and women do service for their country out of nothing more than a sense of duty. God bless them all.
ReplyDeleteI think there is more than a sense of duty; it's a commitment to life, to humankind.
ReplyDelete