The sixth of April again saw the inauguration of a definite plan of Hindu-Muslim unity and Swadeshi.
It was the 6th of April which broke the spirit underlying the Rowlatt Act and made it a dead letter. The 13th of April saw not merely the terrific tragedy but in that tragedy Hindu-Muslim blood flowed freely in a mingled stream and sealed the compact.
How to commemorate or celebrate these two great national events? I venture to suggest that those who will, should devote the 6th of April next to fast (twenty-four hours' abstention from food) and prayer.
The whole of the week beginning from the 6th should be devoted to some work connected with the tragedy of the 13th.
Then the 13th. That day of days should be devoted to fasting and prayer. It should be free from ill-will or anger. We want to cherish the memory of the innocent dead. We do not want to remember the wickedness of the deed. The nation will rise by readiness to sacrifice, not by preparing to revenge. On that day I would also have the nation to remember the mass excesses and feel penitent for them.
I would further urge that during the week each one does his or her best in his or her own person to realize more fully than ever the principles of Satyagraha, Hindu-Muslim unity and Swaraj. In order to emphasize Hindu-Muslim unity, I would advise joint meetings of Hindus and Mussalmans on Friday the 12th April at 7 p.m., urging that the Khilafat question be decided in accordance with the just Muslim sentiments.
Thus this national week should be a week of purification, self-examination, sacrifice, exact discipline and expression of cherished national sentiments. There should be no trace of bitterness, no violence of language, but absolute fearlessness and firmness.
I respectfully trust that all parties and all classes will see their way to take their full share in the observances of the National Week and make it an event for the true and definite progress in national awakening.
Young India, 10-3-'20 (reprinted in the issue of 30-3-'22)
44. THE SATYAGRAHA WEEK
First and foremost in the programme for the holy National Week I put fasting and prayer. I have said enough to emphasize the necessity of both these for the unfoldment of our national life. I speak of these from personal experience. But writing to a friend on this very matter of prayer, I came across a beautiful thing from Tennyson, which I present to the readers of Young India, if per chance I might convert them to a definite belief in the efficacy of prayer.
Here is the gem:
". . . . . . . More things are wrought by prayer
"Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
"Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
"For what are men better than sheep or goats
"That nourish a blind life within the brain,
"If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
"Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
"For so the whole round earth is every way
"Bound by gold chains about the feet of God."
Throughout my wanderings in India, I have had the privilege of mixing with men of all creeds, of mixing with thousands of women, hundreds upon hundreds of students. I have discussed with them national problems with a passion which I am unable to describe. I have found that we have not yet reached a conscious recognition of our national state. We have not had the discipline necessary for a realization of that state and I venture to say that there is nothing so powerful as fasting and prayer that would give us the requisite discipline, spirit of self-sacrifice, humility and resoluteness of will without which there can be no real progress. I hope, therefore, that millions throughout India will open the Satyagraha Week with sincere fasting and prayer.
I do not wish, during this week, to emphasize the civil-resistance part of Satyagraha. I would like us to contemplate Truth and Non-violence, and to appreciate their invincibility. Indeed, if all of us regulated our lives by this eternal law of Satya and Ahimsa, there will be no occasion for civil or other resistance. Civil resistance comes into play when only a small body of men endeavour to follow truth in the face of opposition. It is difficult to know what is truth, when to defend it to the point of civil resistance, and how to avoid error in the shape of violence in one's pursuit after truth. There may well be differences of opinion as to the advisability of preaching civil resistance as a creed during a week devoted to national uplift, in which one seeks the co-operation of all without distinction of party, class or creed.
Young India, 30-3-'22
45. JALIANWALA BAGH
There was an unfortunate hitch about the purchase of this Bagh for the nation. Thanks to the efforts of the Hon'ble Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya, Sannyasi Swami Shri Shraddhananda and the local leaders, it has now become the property of the nation subject to full payment of the purchase price within three months from the 6th instant. The purchase price is Rs 5,36,000. And the amount must be raised within the prescribed period.
It is, therefore, necessary to examine the propriety of making this purchase on behalf of the nation, especially as it has been questioned even in enlightened quarters. With the Cawnpore Memorial before us the attitude is not to be wondered at. But with all respect to objectors, I cannot help saying that if the Bagh had not been acquired, it would have been a national disgrace. Can we afford to forget those five hundred or more men who were killed although they had done nothing wrong either morally or legally? If they had died knowingly and willingly, if realizing their innocence they had stood their ground and faced the shots from the fifty rifles, they would have gone down to history as saints, heroes and patriots. But even as it was, the tragedy became one of first class national importance. Nations are born out of travail and suffering. We should forfeit all title to be considered a nation, if we failed to treasure the memory of those, who in our battle for political freedom might, innocently or for the crimes of others, lose their lives or otherwise suffer. We were unable to protect our helpless countrymen when they were ruthlessly massacred. We may decline, if we will, to avenge the wrong. The nation will not lose if we did. But shall we—can we afford to—decline to perpetuate the memory and to show to the surviving members of the families of the dead that we are sharers in their sufferings, by erecting a national tombstone and by telling the world thereby that in the death of these men each one of us has lost dear relations? If national instinct does not mean at least this much kinship, it has no meaning for me. I hold it to be our duty to tell the present generation and generations yet unborn that in our march towards true freedom, we must be prepared for repetitions of the wrongs such as the Jalianwala Bagh massacre. We must provide against them, we must not seek them, but we must be ready to face them if they came again. I would not have us flinch from the battle of national life. The supreme lesson of the Amritsar Congress was that the sufferings of the Punjab did not dishearten the nation but that the nation treated them as a matter of course. Some of us made stupid mistakes and the innocent suffered for them. We must in future try to avoid the mistakes but in spite of our best effort, we may fail to convert every one to sanity. We must, therefore, be ready for the repetition of the sufferings of the guiltless by telling the country now that they and theirs shall not be forgotten, but that the memory of the innocent dead shall be regarded as a sacred trust, and that the surviving relations shall have the right to look to the nation for maintenance in case of need. This is the primary meaning of the memorial. And has not the blood of the Mohammedan mixed with that of the Hindu? Has not the blood of the Sikh mixed with that of the Sanatanist and the Samajist? The memorial should be a national emblem of an honest and sustained effort to achieve Hindu-Muslim unity.
But the objector's objection still remains unanswered. Will not the memorial also perpetuate bitterness and ill-will? It will depend upon the trustees. And if I know them, I know that that is not their intention at all. I know that such was not the intention of the vast assembly. I do not wish to convey that bitterness was not there. It was there, and not in any way suppressed. But the idea of the memorial ha
d nothing of bitterness in it. The people want to, they must be encouraged to, forget the doer and his madness. What General Dyer did we may all do if we had his irresponsibility and opportunity. To err is human, and it must be held to be equally human to forgive if we, though being fallible, would like rather to be forgiven than punished and reminded of our misdeeds. Nor does this mean that we may not ask for General Dyer's dismissal. A lunatic cannot be kept in a position from which he can do harm to his neighbours. But just as we do not bear ill-will towards a lunatic, so too may we not bear ill-will even towards General Dyer. I would therefore eschew from the memorial all idea of bitterness and ill-will, but treat it as a sacred memory and regard the Bagh as a place of pilgrimage to be visited by all irrespective of class, creed or colour. I would invite Englishmen to appreciate our feeling in the matter, ask them by subscribing to the memorial in the spirit of the Royal Proclamation to make common cause with us in our endeavour to regain consciousness, to realize the same freedom that they enjoy under the same constitution and to realize Hindu-Muslim unity without which there can be no true progress for India.
Young India, 18-2-'20
46. NEITHER A SAINT NOR A POLITICIAN
A kind friend has sent me the following cutting from the April number of the East and West:
"Mr. Gandhi has the reputation of a saint but it seems that the politician in him often dominates his decisions. He has been making great use of hartals and there can be no gainsaying that under his direction hartal is becoming a powerful political weapon for uniting the educated and the uneducated on a single question of the day. The hartal is not without its disadvantages. It is teaching direct action, and direct action however potent does not work for unity. Is Mr. Gandhi quite sure that he is serving the highest behests of ahimsa, harmlessness? His proposal to commemorate the shooting at Jalianwala Bagh is not likely to promote concord. It is a tragic incident into which our Government was betrayed, but is the memory of its bitterness worth retaining? Can we not commemorate the event by raising a temple of peace, to help the widows and orphans, to bless the souls of those who died without knowing why? The world is full of politicians and petti-foggers who, in the name of patriotism, poison the inner sweetness of man and, as a result, we have wars and feuds and such shameless slaughter as turned Jalianwala Bagh into a shambles. Shall we not now try for a larger symbiosis such as Buddha and Christ preached, and bring the world to breathe and prosper together? Mr. Gandhi seemed destined to be the apostle of such a movement, but circumstances are forcing him to seek the way of raising resistances and group unities. He may yet take up the larger mission of uniting the world."
I have given the whole of the quotation. As a rule I do not notice criticism of me or my methods except when thereby I acknowledge a mistake or enforce still further the principles criticized. I have a double reason for noticing the extract. For, not only do I hope further to elucidate the principles I hold dear, but I want to show my regard for the author of the criticism whom I know and whom I have admired for many years for the singular beauty of his character. The critic regrets to see in me a politician whereas he expected me to be a saint. Now I think that the word saint should be ruled out of present life. It is too sacred a word to be lightly applied to anybody, much less to one like myself who claims only to be a humble searcher after truth, knows his limitations, makes mistakes, never hesitates to admit them when he makes them, and frankly confesses that he, like a scientist, is making experiments about some 'of the eternal verities' of life, but cannot even claim to be a scientist because he can show no tangible proof of scientific accuracy in his methods or such tangible results of his experiments as modern science demands. But though by disclaiming sainthood I disappoint the critic's expectations, I would have him to give up his regrets by answering him that the politician in me has never dominated a single decision of mine, and if I seem to take part in politics, it is only because politics encircle us today like the coil of a snake from which one cannot get out, no matter how much one tries. I wish therefore to wrestle with the snake, as I have been doing with more or less success consciously since 1894, unconsciously, as I have now discovered, ever since reaching years of discretion. Quite selfishly, as I wish to live in peace in the midst of a bellowing storm howling round me, I have been experimenting with myself and my friends by introducing religion into politics. Let me explain what I mean by religion. It is not the Hindu religion, which I certainly prize above all other religions, but the religion which transcends Hinduism, which changes one's very nature, which binds one indissolubly to the truth within and which ever purifies. It is the permanent element in human nature which counts no cost too great in order to find full expression and which leaves the soul utterly restless until it has found itself, known its Maker and appreciated the true correspondence between the Maker and itself.
It was in that religious spirit that I came upon hartal. I wanted to show that it is not a knowledge of letters that would give India consciousness of herself, or that would bind the educated together. The hartal illuminated the whole of India as if by magic on the 6th of April, 1919. And had it not been for the interruption of the 10th of April, brought about by Satan whispering fear into the ears of a Government conscious of its own wrong and inciting to anger a people that were prepared for it by-utter distrust of the Government, India would have risen to an unimaginable height. The hartal had not only been taken up by the great masses of people in a truly religious spirit but it was intended to be a prelude to a series of direct actions.
But my critic deplores direct action. For, he says, "it does not work for unity." I join issue with him. Never has anything been done on this earth without direct action. I rejected the word passive resistance because of its insufficiency and its being interpreted as a weapon of the weak. It was direct action in South Africa which told and told so effectively that it converted General Smuts to sanity. He was in 1906 the most relentless opponent of Indian aspirations. In 1914, he took pride in doing tardy justice by removing from the Statute Book of the Union a disgraceful measure which, in 1909 he had told Lord Morley, would be never removed, for he then said South Africa would never tolerate repeal of a measure which was twice passed by the Transvaal Legislature. But what is more, direct action sustained for eight years left behind it not only no bitterness but the very Indians who put up such a stubborn fight against General Smuts ranged themselves round his banner in 1915 and fought under him in East Africa. It was direct action in Champaran which removed an age long grievance. A meek submission when one is chafing under a disability or a grievance which one would gladly see removed, not only does not make for unity, but makes the weak party acid, angry and prepares him for an opportunity to explode. By allying myself with the weak party, by teaching him direct, firm, but harmless action, I make him feel strong and capable of defying the physical might. He feels braced for the struggle, regains confidence in himself and knowing that the remedy lies with himself, ceases to harbour the spirit of revenge and learns to be satisfied with a redress of the wrong he is seeking to remedy.
It is working along the same line that I have ventured to suggest a memorial about Jalianwala Bagh. The writer in East and West has ascribed to me a proposal which has never once crossed my mind. He thinks that I want "to commemorate the shooting at Jalianwala Bagh". Nothing can be further from my thought than to perpetuate the memory of a black deed. I dare say that before we have come to our own we shall have a repetition of the tragedy and I will prepare the nation for it by treasuring the memory of the innocent dead. The widows and the orphans have been and are being helped, but we cannot "bless the souls of those who died without knowing why," if we will not acquire the ground which has been hallowed by innocent blood and there erect a suitable memorial for them. It is not to serve, if I can help it, as a reminder of a foul deed, but it shall serve as an encouragement to the nation that it is better to die helpless and unarmed and as victims rather than as tyrants. I would have the future generations remember that we who wit
nessed the innocent dying did not ungratefully refuse to cherish their memory. As Mrs. Jinnah truly remarked when she gave her mite to the fund, the memorial would at least give us an excuse for living. After all it will be the spirit in which the memorial is erected that will decide its character.
What was the larger 'symbiosis' that Buddha and Christ preached? Buddha fearlessly carried the war into the enemy's camp and brought down on its knees an arrogant priesthood. Christ drove out the money-changers from the temple of Jerusalem and drew down curses from Heaven upon the hypocrites and the pharisees. Both were for intensely direct action. But even as Buddha and Christ chastized they showed unmistakable gentleness and love behind every act of theirs. They would not raise a finger against their enemies, but would gladly surrender themselves rather than the truth for which they lived. Buddha would have died resisting the priesthood, if the majesty of his love had not proved to be equal to the task of bending the priesthood. Christ died on the cross with a crown of thorns on his head defying the might of a whole empire. And if I raise resistances of a non-violent character I simply and humbly follow in the footsteps of the great teachers named by my critic.
Lastly, the writer of the paragraph quarrels with my 'grouping unities' and would have me to take up 'the larger mission of uniting the world'. I once told him under a common roof that I was probably more cosmopolitan than he. I abide by that expression. Unless I group unities I shall never be able to unite the whole world. Tolstoy once said that if we would but get off the backs of our neighbours the world would be quite all right without any further help from us. And if we can only serve our immediate neighbours by ceasing to prey upon them, the circle of unities thus grouped in the right fashion will ever grow in circumference till at last it is conterminous with that of the whole world. More than that it is not given to any man to try or achieve. {7} is as true today as ages ago when it was first uttered by an unknown rishi.
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