by M K Gandhi
Such was the capital with which I had to carry on. In poverty of literary equipment my colleagues went one better than I.M3 But my love for the languages of my country, my confidence in my capacity as a teacher as also the ignorance of my pupils, and more than that, their generosity, stood me in good stead.
The Tamil boys were all born in South Africa, and therefore knew very little Tamil, and did not know the script at all. So I had to teach them the script and the rudiments of grammar. That was easy enough. My pupils knew that they could any day beat me in Tamil conversation, and when Tamilians, not knowing English, came to see me, they became my interpreters. I got along merrily, because I never attempted to disguise my ignorance from my pupils. In all respects I showed myself to them exactly as I really was. Therefore in spite of my colossal ignorance of the language I never lost their love and respect. It was comparatively easier to teach the Mussalman boys Urdu. They knew the script. I had simply to stimulate in them an interest in reading and to improve their handwriting.
These youngsters were for the most part unlettered and unschooled. But I found in the course of my work that I had very little to teach them, beyond weaning them from their laziness,423 and supervising their studies. As I was content with this, I could pull on with boys of different ages and learning different subjects in one and the same class-room.
Of textbooks, about which we hear so much, I never felt the want. I do not even remember having made much use of the books that were available. I did not find it at all necessary to load the boys with quantities of books. I have always felt that the true textbook for the pupil is his teacher. I remember very little that my teachers taught me from books, but I have even now a clear recollection of the things they taught me independently of books.M4
Children take in much more and with less labour through their ears than through their eyes. I do not remember having read any book from cover to cover with my boys. But I gave them, in my own language, all that I had digested from my reading of various books, and I dare say they are still carrying a recollection of it in their minds. It was laborious for them to remember what they learnt from books, but what I imparted to them by word of mouth, they could repeat424 with the greatest ease. Reading was a task for them, but listening to me was a pleasure, when I did not bore them by failure425 to make my subject interesting.M5 And from the questions that my talks prompted them to put,426 I had a measure of their power of understanding.
XXXIV
TRAINING OF THE SPIRIT427
The spiritual training of the boysM1 was a much more difficult matter than their physical and mental training. I relied little on religious books for the training of the spirit. Of course I believed that every student should be acquainted with the elements of his own religion and have a general knowledge of his own scriptures, and therefore I provided for such knowledge as best I could. But that, to my mind, was part of the intellectual training. Long before I undertook the education of the youngsters of the Tolstoy Farm I had realized that the training of the spirit was a thing by itself. To develop the spirit is to build character and to enable one to work towards a knowledge of God and self-realization. And I held that this was an essential part of the training of the young,M2 and that all training without culture of the spirit was of no use, and might be even harmful.
I am familiar with the superstition that self-realization is possible only in the fourth stage of life, i.e., sannyasa (renunciation).428 But it is a matter of common knowledgeM3 that those who defer preparation for this invaluable experience until the last stage of life attain not self-realization but old age amounting to a second and pitiable childhood, living as a burden on this earth. I have a full recollection that I held these views even whilst I was teaching, i.e., in 1911–12, though I might429 not then have expressed them in identical language.
How then was this spiritual training to be given? I made the children memorize and430 recite hymns, and read to them from books on moral training. But that was far from satisfying me. As I came into closer contact with them I saw that it was not through books that one could impart training of the spirit. Just as physical training was to be imparted through physical exercise, and intellectual through intellectual exercise, even so the training of the spirit was possible only through the exercise of the spirit. And the exercise of the spirit entirely depended on the life and character of the teacher. The teacher had always to be mindful of his p’s and q’s,M4 whether he was in the midst of his boys or not.
It is possible for a teacher situated miles away431 to affect the spirit of the pupils432 by his way of living. It would be idle for me, if I were a liar, to teach boys433 to tell the truth. A cowardly teacher would never succeed in making his boys valiant, and a stranger to self-restraint could never teach his pupils the value of self-restraint.M5 I saw, therefore, that I must be an eternal434 object-lesson to the boys and girls living with me. They thus became my teachers, and I learnt I must be good and live straight, if only for their sakes. I may say that the increasing discipline and restraint I imposed on myself at Tolstoy Farm was mostly due to those wards of mine.
One of them was wild, unruly, given to lying, and quarrelsome. On one occasion he broke out most violently. I was exasperated.M6 I never punished my boys,M7 but this time I was very angry.435 I tried to reason with him. But he was adamant and even tried to over-reach me. At last I picked up a ruler lying at hand and delivered a blow on his arm. I trembled as I struck him. I dare say he noticed it. This was an entirely novel experience for them all. The boy cried out and begged to be forgiven. He cried not because the beating was painful to him; he could, if he had been so minded, have paid me back in the same coin, being a stoutly-built youth of seventeen; but he realized my pain in being driven to this violent resource. Never again after this incident did he disobey me. But I still repent that violence.M8 I am afraid I exhibited before him that day not the spirit, but the brute, in me.
I have always been opposed to corporal punishment. I remember only one occasion on which I physically punished one of my sons. I have therefore never until this day been able to decide whether I was right or wrong in using the ruler. Probably it was improper,M9 for it was prompted by anger and a desire to punish. Had it been an expression only of my distress, I should have considered it justified. But the motive in this case was mixed.
This incident set me thinking and436 taught me a better method of correcting students. I do not know whether437 that method would have availed on the occasion in question. The youngster soon forgot the incident, and I do not think he ever showed great improvement. But the incident made me understand betterM10 the duty of a teacher towards his pupils.
Cases of438 misconduct on the part of the boys often occurred after this, but I never resorted to corporal punishment. Thus in my endeavour to impart spiritual training to the boys and girls under me, I came to understand better and better the powerM11 of the spirit.
XXXV
TARES AMONG THE WHEAT439
It was at Tolstoy Farm that Mr. Kallenbach drew my attention to a problem that had never before struck me. As I have already said,440 some of the boys at the Farm441 were bad and unruly. There were loafers, too, amongst them. With these my three boys came in daily contact, as also did other children of the same type as my own sons. This troubled Mr. Kallenbach, but his attention was centred on the impropriety of keeping my boys with these unruly youngsters.M1
One day he spoke out: ‘Your way of mixing your own boys with the bad ones does not appeal to me. It can have only one result. They will become demoralized through this bad company.’
I do not remember whether the question puzzled me at the moment, but I recollect what I said to him:
‘How can I distinguish between my boys and the loafers? I am equally responsible for both.442 The youngsters have come because I invited them. If I were to dismiss them with some money, they would immediately run off to Johannesburg and fall back into their old ways. To tell you the truth,443 it is quite likely that they and their gu
ardians believe that, by having come here, they have laid me under an obligation. That they have to put up with a good deal of inconvenience here, you and I know very well. But my duty is clear. I must have them here, and therefore my boys also must needs live with them. And surely, you do not want me to teach my boys to feel from today that they are superior to other boys. To put that sense of superiority into their heads would be to lead them astray. This association with other boys will be a good discipline for them. They will, of their own accord, learn to discriminate between good and evil. Why should we not believe that, if there is really anything good in them, it is bound to react on their companions? However that may be, I cannot help keeping them here, and if that means some risk, we must run it.’
Mr. Kallenbach shook his head.
The result, I think, cannot be said to have been bad. I do not consider my sons were any the worse for the experiment. On the contrary444 I can see that they gained something. If there was the slightest trace of superiority in them, it was destroyed and they learnt to mix with all kinds of children. They were tested and disciplined.
This and similar experiments have shown me that, if good children are taught together with bad ones and thrown into their company, they will lose nothing, provided the experiment is conducted under the watchful care of their parents and guardians.445
Children446 wrapped up in cottonwool are not always proof against all temptation or contamination.M2 It is true, however, that when boys and girls of all kinds of upbringing are kept and taught together, the parents and the teachers are put to the severest test. They have constantly to be on the alert.
XXXVI
FASTING AS PENANCE
Day by day it became increasingly clear to me how very difficult it was to bring up and educate boys and girls in the right way. If I was to be their real447 teacher and guardian, I must touch their hearts. I must share their joys and sorrows, I must help them to solve the problems that faced them, and I must take along the right channel the surging aspirations of their youth.
On the release of some of the satyagrahis from jail, Tolstoy Farm was almost denuded of its inmates. The few that remained mostly belonged to Phoenix. So I removed them there.448 Here I had to pass through a fiery ordeal.
In those days I had to move between Johannesburg and Phoenix. Once when I was in Johannesburg I received tidings of the moral fall of two of the inmates of the Ashram.449 News of an apparent failure or reverse in the satyagraha struggle would not have shocked me, but this news came upon me like a thunderbolt.M1 The same day I took the train for Phoenix. Mr. Kallenbach insisted on accompanying me. He had noticed the state I was in. He would not brook the thought of my going alone, for he happened to be the bearer of the tidings which had so upset me.M2
During the journey my duty seemed clear to me.450 I felt that the guardian or teacher was responsible, to some extent at least, for the lapse of his ward or pupil. So my responsibility regarding the incident in question became clear to me as daylight. My wife had already warned me in the matter, but being of a trusting nature, I had ignored her caution.451 I felt that the only way the guilty parties could be made to realize my distress and the depth of their own fall would be for me to do some penance. So I imposed upon myself a fast for seven days and a vow to have only one meal a day for a period of four months and a half.452 Mr. Kallenbach tried to dissuade me, but in vain. He fullyM3 conceded the propriety of the penance, and insisted on joining me. I could not resist his transparent affection.
I felt greatly relieved, for the decision meant a heavy load off my mind. The anger against the guilty parties subsided and gave place to the purest pity for them. Thus considerably eased, I reached Phoenix. I made further investigation and acquainted myself with some more details I needed to know.
My penance pained everybody, but it cleared the atmosphere. Everyone came to realize what a terrible thing it was to be sinful, and the bond that bound me to the boys and girls became stronger and truer.
A circumstance arising out of this incident compelled me, a little while after, to go into a fast for fourteen days, the results of which453 exceeded even my expectations.454
It is not my purpose to make out from these incidents that it is the duty of a teacher to resort to fasting whenever there is a delinquency on the part of his pupils. I hold, however, that some occasions do call for this drastic remedy. But it presupposes clearness of vision and spiritual fitness.M4 Where there is no true love between the teacher and the pupil, where the pupil’s delinquency has not touched the very being of the teacher and where the pupil has no respect for the teacher, fasting is out of placeM5 and may even be harmful. Though there is thus room for doubting the propriety of fasts in such cases, there is no question about the teacher’s responsibility455 for the errors of his pupil.
The first penance did not prove difficult for any of us.M6 I had to suspend or stop none of my normal activities. It may be recalled that456 during the whole of this period of penance457 I was a strict fruitarian. The latter part of the secondM7 fast went fairly hard with me. I had not then completely understood the wonderful efficacy of Ramanama, and my capacity for suffering was to that extent less. Besides, I did not know the technique of fasting, especially the necessity of drinking plenty of water, however nauseating or distasteful it might be.458 Then the fact that the first had been an easy affair had made me rather careless as to the second.M8 Thus during the first I took Kuhne baths every day, but during the secondM9 I gave them up after two or three days, and drank very little water, as it was distasteful and produced nausea. The throat became parched and weak and during the last days I could speak only in a very low voice. In spite of this, however, my work was carried on through dictation where writing was necessary. I regularly listened to readings from the Ramayana and other sacred books.M10 I had also sufficient strength to discuss and advise in all urgent matters.
XXXVII
TO MEET GOKHALE
I must skip many of the recollections of South Africa.
At the conclusion of the satyagraha struggle in 1914,459 I received Gokhale’s instructions to return home via London.460 So in July Kasturbai, Kallenbach and I sailed for England.461
During satyagraha I had begun travelling third class. I therefore took third-class passages for this voyage. But there was a good deal of difference between third-class accommodation on the boat on this route and that provided on Indian coastal boats or railway trains.M1 There is hardly sufficient sitting, much less sleeping, accommodation in the Indian service, and little cleanliness. During the voyage to London, on the other hand, there was enough room and cleanliness,462 and the steamship company had provided special facilities for us. The company had provided reserved closet accommodation for us, and as we were fruitarians, the steward had orders to supply us with fruits and nuts. As a rule third-class passengers get little fruit or nuts.M2 These facilities made our eighteen days on the boat quite comfortable.463
Some of the incidents during the voyage are well worth recording. Mr. Kallenbach was very fond of binoculars, and had one or two costly pairs. We had daily discussions over one of these.M3 I tried to impress on him that this possession was not in keeping with the ideal of simplicity that we aspired to reach. Our discussions came to a headM4 one day, as we were standing near the porthole of our cabin.
‘Rather than allow these to be a bone of contention between us, why not throw them into the sea and be done with them?’M5 said I.
‘Certainly throw the wretchedM6 things away,’ said Mr. Kallenbach.
‘I mean it,’ said I.
‘So do I,’ quickly came the reply.
And forthwith I flung them into the sea. They were worth some £7, but their value lay less in their price than in Mr. Kallenbach’s infatuation for them. However,464 having got rid of them, he never regretted it.
This is but one out of the many465 incidents that happened between Mr. Kallenbach and me.
Every day we had to learn something new in this way, for both of us wer
e trying to tread the path of truth. In the march towards truth, anger, selfishness, hatred, etc., naturally give way, for otherwise truth would be impossible to attain. A man who is swayed by passions may have good enough intentions, may be truthful in word, but he will never find the466 truth. A successful467 search for468 truth means complete deliverance from the dual throng such as of love and hate, happiness and misery.469
Not much time had elapsed since my fast when we started on our voyage. I had not regained my normal strength. I used to stroll on deck to get a little exercise, so as to revive my appetite and digest what I ate. But even this exercise was beyond me, causing pain in the calves, so much so that on reaching London I found that I was worse rather than better. There I came to know Dr. Jivraj Mehta.470 I gave him the history of my fast and subsequent pain, and he said, ‘If you do not take complete rest for a few days, there is a fear of your legs going out of use.’471
It was then that I learned that a man emerging from a long fast should not be in a hurry to regain lost strength, and should also put a curb on his appetite. More caution and perhaps more restraint are necessary in breaking a fast than in keeping it.
In Madeira472 we heard that the Great War might break out at any moment. As we entered the English Channel, we received the news of its actual outbreak. We were stopped for some time. It was a difficult business to tow the boat through the submarine mines which had been laid throughout the Channel, and it took about two days to reach Southampton.
War was declared on the 4th of August. We reached London on the 6th.
XXXVIII
MY PART IN THE WAR
On arrival in England I learned that Gokhale had been stranded in Paris473 where he had gone for reasons of health, and as communication between Paris and London had been cut off, there was no knowing when he would return. I did not want to go home without having seen him, but no one could say definitely when he would arrive.