by M K Gandhi
Instead of coming to his senses,M10 he threatened to expose me. ‘I have nothing to conceal,’ said I. ‘Expose whatever I may have done. But you must leave me this moment.’
This made him worse. There was no help for it.340 So I said to the clerk standing downstairs: ‘Please go and inform the Police Superintendent, with my compliments, that a person living with me has misbehaved himself.M11 I do not want to keep him in my house, but he refuses to leave. I shall be much obliged if police help can be sent me.’
This showed him that I was in earnest.341 His guilt unnerved him. He apologized to me, entreated me not to inform the police, and agreed to leave the house immediately, which he did.
The incident came as a timely warning in my life.M12 Only now could I see clearly how thoroughly I had been beguiled by this evil genius.M13 In harbouring him I had chosen a bad means for a good end. I had expected to ‘gather figs of thistles’.342 I had known that the companion was a bad character, and yet I believed in his faithfulness to me. In the attempt to reform him I was near ruining myself. I had disregarded the warnings of kind friends. Infatuation had completely blinded me.
But for the new cook I should never have discovered the truth and, being under the influence of the companion, I should probably have been unable to lead the life of detachment that I then began.M14 I should always have been wasting time on him. He had the power to keep me in the dark and to mislead me.
But God came to the rescue as before.M15 My intentions were pure, and so I was saved in spite of my mistakes, and this early experience thoroughly forewarned me for the future.
The cook had been almost a messenger sent from Heaven. He did not know cooking, and as a cook he could not have remained at my place. But no one else could have opened my eyes. This was not the first time, as I subsequently learnt, that the woman had been brought into my house. She had come often before,343 but no one had the courage of this cook. For everyone knew how blindly I trusted the companion. The cook had, as it were, been sent to me just to do this service, for he begged leave of me that very moment.M16
‘I cannot stay in your house,’ he said. ‘You are so easily misled. This is no place for me.’
I let him go.M17
I now discovered that the man who had poisoned my ears against the clerk was no other than this companion. I tried very hard to make amends to the clerk for the injustice I had done him. It has, however, been my eternal regret that I could never satisfy him fully. Howsoever you may repair it, a rift is a rift.M18
XXIV
HOMEWARD
By now I had been three years in South Africa. I had got to know the people and they had got to know me. In 1896 I asked permission to go home for six months, for I saw that I was in for a long stay there.M1 I had established a fairly good practice, and could see that people felt the need of my presence.344 So I made up my mind to go home, fetch my wife and children, and then return and settle out there.M2 I also saw that, if I went home, I might be able to do there some public work by educating public opinion and creating more interest in the Indians of South Africa.M3 The £3 tax was an open sore. There could be no peace until it was abolished.
But who was to take charge of the Congress work and Education Society in my absence?M4 I could think of two men—Adamji Miyakhan and Parsi Rustomji. There were many workers now available from the commercial class. But the foremost among those who could fulfil the duties of the secretary by regular work, and who also commanded the regard of the Indian community,M5 were these two. The secretary certainly needed a working knowledge of English. I recommended the late Adamji Miyakhan’s name to the Congress, and it approved of his appointment as secretary. Experience showed that the choice was345 a very happy one. Adamji Miyakhan satisfied all with his perseverance, liberality, amiability and courtesy, and proved to everyone that the secretary’s work did not require a man with a barrister’s degree or high English education.
About the middle of 1896346 I sailed for home in the s.s. Pongola347 which was bound for Calcutta.
There were very few348 passengers on board. Among them were two English officers, with whom I came in close contact. With one of them I used to play chess for an hour daily. The ship’s doctor gave me a Tamil Self-teacher349 which I began to study. My experience in Natal had shown me that I should acquire a knowledge of Urdu to get into closer contact with the Mussalmans, and of Tamil to get into closer touch with the Madras Indians.
At the request of the English friend, who read Urdu with me,350 I found out a good Urdu munshi from amongst the deck passengers, and we made excellent progress in our studies. The officer had a better memory than I. He would never forget a word after once he had seen it; I often found it difficult to decipher Urdu letters. I brought more perseverance to bear, but could never overtake the officer.
With Tamil I made fair progress. There was no help available, but the Tamil Self-teacher was a well-written book, andM6 I did not feel in need of much outside help.
I had hoped to continue these studies even after reaching India, but it was impossible. Most of my reading351 since 1893 has been done in jail. I did make some progress in Tamil and Urdu, in jails—Tamil in South African jails, and Urdu in Yeravda Jail. But I never learnt to speak Tamil, and the little I could do by way of reading is now rusting away for want of practice.
I still feel what a handicap this ignorance of Tamil or Telugu352 has been. The affection that the DravidiansM7 in South Africa showered on me has remained a cherished memory.353 Whenever I see a Tamil or Telugu friend, I cannot but recall the faith, perseverance and selfless sacrifice of many of his compatriots in South Africa. And they were mostly illiterate, the men no less than the women. The fight in South Africa was for such, and it was fought by illiterate soldiers; it was for the poor, and the poor took their full share in it. Ignorance of their language, however, was never a handicap to me in stealing the hearts of these simple and good countrymen. They spoke broken Hindustani or broken English, and we found no difficulty in getting on with our work. But I wanted to requite their affection by learning Tamil and Telugu. In Tamil, as I have said, I made some little progress, but in Telugu, which I tried to learn in India, I did not get beyond the alphabet. I fear now I can never learn these languages, and am therefore hoping that the DravidiansM8 will learn Hindustani. The non-English-speaking among them in South Africa do speak Hindi or Hindustani, however indifferently.M9 It is only the English-speaking ones who will not learn it, as though a knowledge of English were an obstacle to learning our own languages.
But I have digressed. Let me finish the narrative of my voyage. I have to introduce to my readers354 the Captain of the s.s. Pongola. We had become friends. The good Captain was a Plymouth Brother. Our talks were more about spiritual subjects than nautical. He drew a line between morality and faith. The teaching of the Bible was to him child’s play. Its beauty lay in its simplicity. Let all, men, women and children, he would say,355 have faith in Jesus and his sacrifice, and their sins were sure to be redeemed. This friend revived my memory of the Plymouth Brother of Pretoria. The religion that imposed any moral restrictions was to him no good. My vegetarian food had been the occasion of the whole of this discussion.M10 Why should I not eat meat, or for that matter beef? Had not God created all the lower animals for the enjoyment of mankind as, for instance, He had created the vegetable kingdom? These questions inevitably drew us into religious discussion.
We could not convince each other.356 I was confirmed in my opinion that religion and morality were synonymous.M11 The Captain had no doubt about the correctness of his opposite357 conviction.
At the end of twenty-four days the pleasant voyage came to a close, and admiring the beauty of the Hooghly, I landed at Calcutta.358 The same day I took the train for Bombay.
XXV
IN INDIA
On my way to Bombay the train stopped at Allahabad359 for forty-five minutes. I decided to utilize the interval for a driveM1 through the town. I also had to purchase some medicine at a chemist
’s shop. The chemist was half asleep, and took an unconscionable time in dispensing the medicine, with the result that when I reached the station, the train had just started. The Station Master had kindly detained the train one minute for my sake, but not seeing me coming,360 had carefully ordered my luggage to be taken out of the train.
I took a room at Kellner’s,361 and decided to start work there and then. I had heard a good deal about The Pioneer362 published from Allahabad, and I had understood it to be an opponent of Indian aspirations. I have an impression that Mr. Chesney Jr.363 was the editor at that time. I wanted to secure the help of every party, so I wrote a note to Mr. Chesney, telling him how I had missed the train, and asking for an appointment so as to364 enable me to leave the next day. He immediately gave me one, at365 which I was very happy especially when I found that he gave me a patient hearing. He promised to notice in his paper anything that I might write, but added that he could not promise to endorse all the Indian demands, inasmuch as he was bound to understand and give due weight to the viewpoint of the Colonials as well.M2
‘It is enough,’ I said, ‘that you should study the question and discuss it in your paper. I ask and desire nothing but the barest justice that is due to us.’M3
The rest of the day was spent in having a look round admiring366 the magnificent confluence of the three rivers, the Triveni, and planning the work before me.
This unexpected interview with the editor of The Pioneer laid the foundation of the series of incidents which ultimately led to my being lynched in Natal.M4
I went straight to Rajkot367 without halting at Bombay and began to make preparations for writing a pamphlet on the situation in South Africa.368 The writing and publication of the pamphlet took about a month. It had a green cover and369 came to be known afterwards as the Green Pamphlet.370 In it I drew a purposely subdued picture of the condition of Indians in South Africa. The language I used was more moderate than that of the two pamphlets371 which I have referred to before, as I knew that things heard of from a distance appear bigger than they are.M5
Ten thousand copies372 were printed and sent373 to all the papers and leaders of every party in India. The Pioneer was the first to notice it editorially. A summary of the article was cabled by Reuter374 to England, and a summary of that summary was cabled to Natal by Reuter’s London office.375 This cable was not longer than three lines in print. It was a miniature, but exaggerated,376 edition of the picture I had drawn of the treatment accorded to the Indians in Natal, and it was not in my words. We shall see later on the effect this had in Natal. In the meanwhile every paper of note commented at length on the question.
To get these pamphlets ready for posting was no small matter. It would have been expensive too, if I had employed paid help377 for preparing wrappers, etc.378 But I hit upon a much simpler plan. I gathered together all the children in my locality and asked them to volunteer two or three hours’ labour of a morning, when they had no school.379 This they willingly agreed to do. I promised to bless them and give them, as a reward, used postage stamps which I had collected. They got through the work in no time.M6 That was my first experiment of having little children as volunteers. Two of those little friends are my co-workers today.
Plague broke out380 in Bombay about this time, and there was panic all around. There was fear of an outbreak in Rajkot. As I felt that I could be of some help in the sanitation department, I offered my services to the State.381 They were accepted, and I was put on the committee382 which was appointed to look into the question. I laid especial emphasis on the cleanliness of latrines, and the committee decided to inspect these in every street. The poor people had no objection to their latrines being inspected, and what is more, they carried out the improvements suggested to them. But when we went to inspect the houses of the upper ten,M7 some of them even refused us admission,383 not to talk of listening to our suggestions. It was our common experience that the latrines of the rich were more unclean. They were dark and stinking and reeking with filth and worms.384 The improvements we385 suggested were quite simple, e.g., to have buckets for excrement instead of allowing it to drop on the ground; to see that urine also was collected in buckets, instead of allowing it to soak into the ground, and to demolish the partitions between the outer walls and the latrines, so as to give the latrines more light and air and enable386 the scavenger to clean them properly. The upper classes raised numerous objections to this last improvement, and in most cases it was not carried out.
The committee had to inspect the untouchables’ quarters also. Only one member of the committee was ready to accompany me there. To the rest it was something preposterous387 to visit those quarters, still more so to inspect their latrines. But for me those quarters were an agreeable surprise. That was the first visit in my life to such a locality. The men and women there were surprised to see us. I asked them to let us inspect their latrines.
‘Latrines for us!’ they exclaimed in astonishment. ‘We go and perform our functions out in the open.M8 Latrines are for you big people.’
‘Well, then, you won’t mind if we inspect your houses?’ I asked.
‘You are perfectly welcome, sir. You may see every nook and corner of our houses. Ours are no houses, they are holes.’388
I went in and was delighted to see that the insides were as clean as the outsides. The entrances were well swept, the floors were beautifully smeared with cow-dung, and the few pots and pans were clean and shining. There was no fear of an outbreak in those quarters.389
In the upper class quarters390 we came across a latrine which I cannot help describing in some detail. Every room had its gutter, which was used both for water and urine, which meant that the whole house would stink. But one of the houses had a storeyed bed-room with a gutter which was being used both as a urinal and a latrine. The gutter had a pipe descending to the ground floor. It was not possible to stand the foul smell in this room. How the occupants could sleep there I leave the readers to imagine.
The committee also visited the Vaishnava391 Haveli. The priest in charge of the Haveli was very friendly with my family. So he agreed to let us inspect everything and suggest whatever improvements we liked. There was a part of the Haveli premises that he himself had never seen. It was the place where refuse and leaves used as dinner-plates used to be thrown over the wall. It was the haunt of crows and kites. The latrines were of course dirty. I was not long enough in Rajkot to see how many of our suggestions the priest carried out.
It pained me to see so much uncleanliness about a place of worship.M9 One would expect a careful observance of the rules of sanitation and hygiene in a place which is regarded as holy. The authors of the smritis, as I knew even then, have laid the greatest emphasis on cleanliness both inward and outward.
XXVI
TWO PASSIONSM1
Hardly ever have I known anybody to cherish such loyalty as I did to the British Constitution.392 I can see now that my393 love of truth was at the root of this loyalty. It has never been possible for me to simulate loyalty or, for that matter, any other virtue. The National AnthemM2 used to be sung at every meeting that I attended in Natal.394 I then felt that I must also join in the singing. Not that I was unaware of the defects in395 British rule, but I thought that it was on the whole acceptable. In those days I believed that396 British rule397 was on the whole beneficial to the ruled.
The colour prejudice that I saw in South Africa was, I thought, quite contrary to British traditions, and I believed that it was only temporary and local. I therefore vied with Englishmen in loyalty to the throne. With careful perseverance I learnt the tune of the National AnthemM3 and398 joined in the singing whenever it was sung.399 Whenever there was an occasion for the expression of loyalty without fuss or ostentation, I readily took part in it.
Never in my life did I exploit this loyalty, never did I seek to gain a selfish end by its means. It was for me more in the nature of an obligation, and I rendered it without expecting a reward.M4
Preparations were go
ing on for the celebration of Queen Victoria’s400 Diamond Jubilee when I reached India. I was invited to join the committee appointed for the purpose in Rajkot. I accepted the offer, but401 had a suspicion that the celebrations would be largely a matter of show. I discovered much humbug about them and was considerably pained. I began to ask myself whether I should remain on the committee or not, but ultimately decided to rest content with doing402 my part of the business.
One of the proposals was to plant trees. I saw that many did it merely for show and for pleasing the officials.M5 I tried to plead with them that tree-planting was not compulsory, but merely a suggestion. It should be done seriously or not at all. I have an impression that they laughed at my ideas. I remember that I was in earnest when I planted the tree allotted to me and that I carefully watered and tended it.M6
I likewise taught the National AnthemM7 to the children of my family. I recollect having taught it to students of the local Training College, but I forget whether it was on the occasion of the Jubilee or of King Edward VII’s coronation as Emperor of India.403 Later on the textM8 began to jar on me. As my conception of ahimsa went on maturing, I became more vigilant about my thought and speech. The lines in the Anthem:
Scatter her enemies,
And make them fall;
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks.
particularly jarred upon my sentiment of ahimsa.404 I shared my feelings with Dr. Booth405 who agreed that it ill became a believer in ahimsa to sing those lines. How could we assume that the so-called ‘enemies’ were ‘knavish’? And because they were enemies, were they bound to be in the wrong? From God we could only ask for justice. Dr. Booth entirely endorsed my sentiments, and406 composed a new anthem for his congregation. But of Dr. Booth more later.