by B Krishna
In his public speeches during Gandhi’s absence, Patel always struck the same inspiring strain as the Mahatma, attempting to build up his master’s image as one who had taught them the new mantra of truth and ahimsa, and who had injected courage and fearlessness into their hearts and minds. Patel told the peasants, “Stick to the path the Mahatma has shown you. You should give up violence; even thought of loot or use of underhand means. Instead, you should take to the path of dharma—the path of Truth and justice. Don’t misuse your valour. Remain united. March forward in all humility, but fully awake to the situation you face, demanding your rights with firmness. Have no fear of the tehsildar. Even if the heavens fall, you should not forsake your pledge. If you carry it through to success, Kheda’s will be the first name in the history of India’s freedom struggle.”15
In the beginning the government thought that by merely taking away their dearly loved cattle, the peasants would be intimidated and pay up the land revenue. This did not work. So, a more drastic step was taken in the confiscation and auctioning of their lands. Lest people’s morale crack up under mounting pressures, Gandhi and Patel moved from village to village, injecting into the people a fresh dose of elixir to strengthen their hearts and steel their determination, asking them to honour the pledge they had taken.
In Patel’s own village, Karamsad, things were not shaping well. Some non-landholders seemed to be willing to avail themselves of the auctions. Patel was deeply hurt. He implored them: “When I see the condition of this village today, I am reminded of my childhood days, when the elders of the village carried themselves with such dignity that the revenue officers sought their advice and sat most humbly in front of them. Today it is not so. You appear frightened of the officials. This is due to lack of unity amongst yourselves.”16
Pratt thought of exploiting Gandhi’s innate goodness. Since he himself could not reach the boycotting peasants through his officials, he sought Gandhi’s help. A meeting of over 2000 peasants was arranged. In order not to embarrass Pratt, Gandhi did not attend the meeting, but sent Patel as an observer.
Pratt exploited the opportunity to gain the upper hand. He attempted to establish a rapport with the peasants by calling Gandhi “Mahatma”, and drew loud cheers. Thereafter he appealed to them:
Pray listen to my speech and hear my advice . . . The power to fix assessment is in the hands of the Government and the officers of the Government . . . We are the final arbiters of a legal right you may fight in a court of law. The sole authority to issue orders in the matter rests in the hands of the officials. It is not in the hands of Mr. Gandhi, nor of Mr. Vallabhbhai. You may bear fully in mind that any amount of your effort in this matter is bound to be futile. My words are final orders. They are not my personal orders, but they are the orders of His Excellency Lord Willingdon. I have a letter from His Excellency in which he has been pleased to say that he would confirm whatever orders I may pass in the matter and every word that I may say . . . You may understand that it is not I who say this. It is His Excellency Lord Willingdon.
By mentioning the governor’s name, Pratt expected to make the innocent, illiterate villagers fearful of the supreme authority whom he represented. Thereafter, Pratt attempted to deflate Gandhi’s influence by deviously paying him a left-handed compliment: “Mahatma Gandhi is an exceedingly good and saintly soul. And whatever advice he gives you, he does with the purest of intentions and in the full consciousness that it is in your interest. His advice is that you should not pay the assessment, because thereby you would safeguard the interests of the poor . . . Do you mean to say that the Government does not protect them? Is not the Government solicitous of their welfare?”
When Pratt went on to add that the Home Rulers would not go to jail, someone from the audience shouted: “Sir, if you send us, we will go.” This was an oblique reference to the rumour that Gandhi would be sent to jail. Lest a misunderstanding got hold of the mind of the audience, and they assumed that Gandhi would be jailed, Pratt scotched it by categorically stating: “During the passive resistance campaign in South Africa, Mahatma Gandhi had to go to jail. But under this Government such a thing will not happen . . . The jail is not a fit place for him. I repeat that Mahatma Gandhi is a most saintly character.”
Thereafter, ingeniously, Pratt attempted to build his own image with the observation:
The fight of the Government is not with the peasants. If children kick their parents, the latter are pained but not angered . . . I have 28 years of experience of administration of land revenue assessment and of land revenue legislation. Mahatma Gandhi is my friend. He has passed the greater part of his life in South Africa and has been here for only two or three years. In the domain of knowledge, letters and religion, he is a great authority. His advice on these subjects must be right. But in matters of administration and land revenue assessment, his knowledge is limited. I claim better knowledge. I have come here only to give you a final word of advice . . . if you do not pay the assessment, your lands will be confiscated. Many people say, “This won’t happen.” But I say that it will . . . Those who are contumacious will get no lands in future.17
By expressing his willingness to hear people speak out their minds, Pratt disturbed the hornet’s nest in the mistaken hope that they would support him. Over a dozen peasants rose, one after another, to express their views in stunningly brutal frankness. By telling a lie about the Ahmedabad millhands calling off their strike, Pratt had provided Patel with a hammer to nail the lie onto him. Mistakenly, he had stated that the vow the peasants had taken had no sanctity, since a similar vow by the millhands had already been broken.
Patel was at the meeting only as an observer. That he was not to speak had given Pratt satisfaction and relief. Unwittingly, he gave Patel an opportunity when he sought his opinion in regard to what Narsinhbhai from Karamsad had said: that their fight was not intended to embarrass the government. Patel jumped at the opportunity and said, “The speaker does not deny that ours is a fight. He admits it is. What he means to say is that it is not intended to embarrass the authorities.” Before Patel could proceed further, Pratt, out of nervousness, asked him whether he was going to make a speech. Patel replied that he was going to refer to the question of the millhands’ strike only. Pratt remarked rather ruefully: “Well, you may go on. But today is our turn.”
Patel, however, observed: “There was no breaking of the millhands’ vow . . . Mr. Pratt himself graced the last meeting of the millhands when the terms of the compromise were declared.” Thereafter he did not spare Pratt by answering his left-handed compliment to Gandhi with the shrewd observation:
Mr. Pratt says he has great regard for Gandhiji. [The commissioner interjecting: “Yes, of course.”] Gandhiji has a great regard for Mr. Pratt, and so have I. But it was Mr. Pratt who said on that occasion that the millhands should always follow Gandhiji’s advice and, if they do, they would not fail to get justice. I also say likewise that if you follow Gandhiji’s advice in this matter, you are sure to get justice at Mr. Pratt’s hands. Here also the Commissioner may, if he so wishes, get a committee appointed and we would willingly accept its decision as not inconsistent with our vow.18
Patel netted Pratt nicely. Pratt’s discomfiture was complete. It was compounded by some persistent questions from the peasants.
Pratt’s threat clearly indicated that the government was poised for action. To counter that, Gandhi told the peasants, “The Commissioner has issued many threats. He has even said that he will see to it that these do not remain empty threats . . . He seems to regard the relationship between the Government and the people as similar to that between parents and children. If that were so, has anyone seen in the whole history of the world an instance of parents having turned their children out of their homes for having resisted them in a non-violent manner?”19
Ever willing for a compromise, Gandhi asked the commissioner for an interview. He got a most unhelpful reply: “If you give up all your weapons and come to discuss without conditions, my do
ors are open to you, but my hands are tied by legal and administrative rules.” Gandhi answered, “I am a believer in satyagraha. I would gladly give up my weapons and even my all for the matter of that, but I cannot give up my principles.”
The fight went on unabated. It evoked wide response. For the first time women came forward to fight shoulder to shoulder with their menfolk, whom they injected with confidence and courage. They, indeed, displayed unusual bravery. Some even declared: “Let the Government take away our cattle and our ornaments, and confiscate our fields. But our men will not depart from their pledge.”
Gandhi had to proceed to New Delhi on an urgent call from the viceroy. Patel assumed command of the satyagraha for the second time. Through his speeches and pamphlets, he kept alive the spark Gandhi had lit. He told the peasants:
A fierce dharma-yudh [righteous war] has been going on between the people and blind authority . . . notices of confiscation have been enforced in the case of some leading men’s houses. Fines imposed. Standing crops taken possession of. Even threats of arrests held out. But people have remained undaunted, while officers have betrayed their helplessness over their failure. It was then that the Commissioner stepped in, and addressed the peasants at Nadiad. He gave them serious threats; even read out the Governor’s letter to impress upon them his authority to act. But the peasants showed rare courage in answering his threats. He was surprised to see such fearlessness for the first time in his 28 years of administrative career. And, no wonder, he left the meeting in sheer desperation.20
Patel went on to observe:
The peasants took all this cheerfully. The Government recovered no money at all . . . So the Government gave up confiscations and restarted auctions of movable properties . . . They took charge of milk-giving buffaloes, kept them in the sun, and even separated them from their calves. This reduced the price of the buffalo by half. Even so, the peasants adhered to their pledge patiently and bore whatever hardships they were called upon to bear.
Patel’s advice to them was:
The longer the fight lasts, the stiffer is the test which the people will have to pass. But without such hardships, they cannot have this unique experience . . . If the Government oversteps the limits, is itself angered and harasses us, we, on our part, should not act unreasonably, never be impolite or lose our temper . . . always be peaceful. Even the hardest of hearts can be conquered by love. The more the opponent is stiff, the more should our affection go out to him. Only then shall we be able to win. That is the significance of satyagraha.21
Yet, Patel could not surrender his peasant’s sturdy independence on some marginal issues. He accepted Gandhi’s operational strategy and the principles governing the satyagraha. But he could not subscribe to Gandhi’s advice to the peasants to willingly accept suffering by voluntarily surrendering their cattle to the authorities. Although he believed in non-violent protest, his practical nature urged him to get the most out of every situation. He therefore preferred that they should save their cattle from attachment by not letting them remain near their houses.
The struggle continued through April, May, and part of June. Men and women stood firmly behind Gandhi and Patel, willingly suffering any punishment the government imposed on them. Not only were their cattle and standing crops seized, but also their womenfolk’s ornaments and household utensils. All the 600 villages showed rare determination and a remarkable solidarity, which surprised many a visitor. The Mumbai newspapers paid glowing tributes to the peasants for their courage and sacrifice.
In the end, the government seemed to have recognised its failure. On 3 June 1918, when Gandhi and Patel reached Uttersanda, a village near Nadiad, they were informed by the mamlatdar of the government’s decision to suspend assessment till the next year. Upon this, Gandhi and Patel announced termination of the satyagraha from 6 June.
The success sent a wave of jubilation throughout Kheda. Village after village celebrated the victory with gusto. An eyewitness confirmed that the “rejoicings, characterised everywhere by a spirit of moderation and always free from anything like frantic mirth, have unmistakably proved the wonderful hold the Mahatma has secured over the people of Kheda, their deep sense of gratefulness for what has been achieved, as also their appreciation of the moral significance of the campaign. For, everywhere people flocked in their thousands, small villages rocked with their tumultuous rejoicings, and every village that followed tried to vie with the one that preceded in the measure of its reception and in the volume of its gratefulness.”22 At the farewell meeting at Nadiad, Gandhi paid glowing tributes to Patel for the role he had played as his deputy commander: “The choice of my lieutenant was particularly happy . . . without the help of Vallabhbhai we could not have won the campaign. He had a splendid practice, he had his municipal work to do, but he renounced all and threw himself into the campaign.”23
Patel played a major role in the emergence of Gandhi as an all-India leader in the Kheda satyagraha. Thereafter, Noncooperation’s failure had made Gandhi lie low. It was an hour of grave crisis in his life. It was Patel—and Patel alone—who kept alive Gandhi’s spirit through three of his satyagrahas: Nagpur, Borsad, and Bardoli.
Nagpur Satyagraha
The Nagpur satyagraha was fought for the vindication of the honour of the national flag—the Tricolour, which had not been allowed to be flown over the Town Hall, along with the Union Jack, in spite of a resolution passed in its favour by the municipality. The flag had also been prohibited from being taken out in a street procession. The satyagraha started on 1 May 1923 and continued for over three and a half months till 18 August. Patel took over command towards the end of July, and emerged victorious in less than three weeks.
Patel’s success at Nagpur lay in ensuring a steady flow of satyagrahis from different parts of the country. At least fifty were daily available for arrest. They comprised all classes and communities: educated, uneducated, High Court lawyers, school students, zamindars and businessmen. Patel even planned to draft women volunteers, and had sent a word to Gandhi’s wife, Kasturba, “to be ready to go to jail”. The satyagarha continued unabated. Volunteers daily offered satyagraha, and filled the Nagpur jail beyond its capacity. The railway authorities had to restrict the issue of tickets for Nagpur. Yet, the arrival of volunteers could not be stopped.
The pressure thus built forced the home member of the Governor’s Council, Moropant Joshi, to state in the Provincial Legislative Assembly that no one would object to the flag being taken out in a procession if prior permission had been sought in accordance with the rules laid down. He had come to realise that the government could not object to the Indian situation especially when the British Bolshevik Party could take out the Red Flag in a procession through London streets, shouting slogans even in front of the British Parliament. The home member, therefore, set the ball rolling by first arranging a meeting between the governor and Patel.
The prohibitory order was to expire on 17 August. Patel stated in true Gandhian spirit: “I desire to make it clear that the Nagpur satyagraha struggle has been started in order to vindicate our elementary right against arbitrary and unjustifiable interference and abuse of law . . . the organisers of the processions never intend to cause annoyance to any section of the public.” Nor were the processions organised, he assured, “to offer insult to the Union Jack”.1 With the governor’s consent, the home member confirmed the settlement in writing. A victorious Patel announced the termination of the satyagraha.
No fresh order was issued on the seventeenth. But the European members of ICS (Indian Civil Service), ignoring the governor’s involvement, raised a storm of protest, and carried their “war” to London. They could directly communicate with the secretary of state over the head of the governor, being directly responsible to him. Patel stood firm. He demanded of the provincial government to honour the agreement reached between him and the home member, and release the volunteers from prison. The provincial government pressed the government of India to authorise their release. It plea
ded that its prestige was at stake. A cable came from London agreeing to the release of prisoners.
The volunteers were released on 3 September. A batch of 100 successfully took out the national flag in a victory march through the Civil Lines. The superintendent of police accompanied the mounted police. The processionists halted near the railway bridge which had earned the appellation of the Flag Bridge, and also at the National Flag Square—the venue of satyagraha. Loud slogans rent the air all along the route lined with policemen. Respecting Christian sentiments, complete silence was observed in front of the church in the Civil Lines. The processionists reached their destination without being stopped by the police.
With that success, Patel declared: “The honour of the national flag stands vindicated. Our right to take out processions on public roads in a peaceful and orderly manner has been restored. I regard this as a triumph of Truth, non-violence and suffering. By the grace of God, I am now in a position to announce that the Nagpur satyagraha campaign successfully closes.”2
Thus ended another successful campaign undertaken by Patel in his capacity as Mahatma Gandhi’s deputy commander.
Borsad Satyagraha
The Borsad satyagraha was a fight against dual tyranny. The first involved two dacoits who committed robberies and murders unchecked, even in broad daylight; the second involved the government, which had imposed a punitive tax of over Rs. 2.40 lakh for additional police posted in the villages, allegedly for the protection of villagers. It was to be payable by all over 16 for providing shelter against the dacoits. That was, however, not the case. In reality, the officials were in collusion with the two dacoits, Babar Deva of village Golel, and Ali, from Borsad town.