ROMAIN HOLLAND (continued 2)

Meanwhile Gandhi continued more and more actively his campaign for the unity of India. He tried to unite all religions, races, parties, and castes. He called upon the Parsees,[82] the rich, prosperous merchant class, more or less tainted, as he expressed it, with the spirit of Rockefeller, and he called upon Hindus and Mussulmans to form a solid alliance. The relations between Hindus and Mussulmans were continually embittered by prejudices, mutual fear, and suspicion. Gandhi devoted himself to bringing the two races into harmonious collaboration,[83] and without advocating or desiring an impossible fusion between the two peoples, he tried to unite them in friendship.[84]

His keenest efforts, however, were given to the regeneration of the "suppressed" classes, the pariahs. His passionate appeals for the pariahs, his cries of sorrow and indignation at the monstrous social iniquity which oppressed them, would, alone, immortalize his name. His feeling for the outcasts dates back to his boyhood. He tells how, when he was a boy,[85] a pariah used to come to the house to do all the coarse work. As a boy Gandhi was told never to touch the pariah without purifying himself afterward by ablutions. He could not understand why, and often asked his parents about it. At school he frequently touched the untouchables, and his mother told him that he could escape the consequences of this unholy touch only by touching a Mohammedan. To Gandhi it all seemed absurdly unfair, cruelly unjustified. At the age of twelve he made up his mind to wipe this stain off India's conscience. He planned to come to the rescue of his degraded brothers. And never has Gandhi's mind revealed itself clearer and more unbiased than when he pleads their cause. What their cause means to him may be gathered from the fact that he says he would give up his religion (he to whom religion is everything!) if any one can prove to him that untouchability is one of its dogmas. The unjust pariah system justified, in his eyes, everything that has been inflicted on India by other nations.

If the Indians have become the pariahs of the empire, it is retributive justice, meted out to us by a just God.... Should we Hindus not wash our blood-stained hands before we ask the English to wash theirs? Untouchability has degraded us, made us pariahs in South Africa, East Africa, Canada. So long as Hindus willfully regard untouchability as part of their religion, so long Swaraj is impossible of attainment. India is guilty, England has done nothing blacker. The first duty is to protect the weak and helpless and never injure the feelings of any individual. We are no better than brutes until we have purged ourselves of the sins we have committed against our weaker brethren.

Gandhi wanted the national congress to better the condition of the pariah brothers by giving them schools and wells, for pariahs were not allowed to use the public wells. But until then? Unable to wait with folded hands for the privileged classes to condescend to make good their cruelty, Gandhi went over to the pariahs. He placed himself at their head and tried to organize them. He discussed their problems with them. What ought they to do? Appeal to the English Government? Place themselves at its disposal? This would only mean a change of slavery. Abandon Hinduism? (Note the broad-minded audacity of a Hindu believer!) Become Christians or Mohammedans? Gandhi would almost advise them to do so if Hinduism really stood for untouchability. But it doesn't. Untouchability is only a morbid excrescence of Hinduism, which must be extirpated. The pariahs must organize themselves in self-defense. They might, of course, adopt the principles of non-coöperation in regard to Hinduism by refusing to have any relations with the Hindus (singularly audacious advice of social revolt on the lips of a patriot like Gandhi!). But the difficulty is that the pariahs have no leaders and cannot organize themselves. The best thing, therefore, is for them to join the general non-coöperation movement, since its object is harmony among all classes. Real non-coöperation is a religious act of purification, and no one can take part in it who believes in untouchability. Gandhi in this way combines religion, humanity, and patriotism.[86]

A certain solemnity attended the first efforts to group the pariahs. A "suppressed-classes conference" took place at Ahmedabad on April 13 and 14, 1921. Gandhi presided at the conference and made one of his most beautiful speeches. He not only demanded the suppression of the pariah system but urged the untouchables to rise to the occasion and show the best that was in them. He expects great things from the pariahs, he says, in the social life of regenerated India. He tries to instill self-confidence in them and fill them with his own burning ideal. In the "suppressed classes," he says, he sees tremendous latent possibilities. He believes that within five months the untouchable class will be able to win, by its own merits, the place it deserves within the great Indian family.

Gandhi had the joy of seeing his appeal find echo in the hearts of the people. In many parts of India the pariahs were emancipated.[87] The day before his arrest Gandhi made a speech recording the progress of the pariah cause. The Brahmans were helping. The privileged classes were giving touching examples of remorse and fraternal love. Gandhi cites the case of a young Brahman who at nineteen became a street-sweeper, to live among the untouchables.[88]

§ 5

With equal generosity Gandhi took up another great cause, that of women.

The sexual problem is a peculiarly difficult one in India, throbbing with an all-pervading, oppressive, and badly directed sensuality. Child marriages weaken the physical and moral resources of the nation. The obsession of the flesh weighs on men's minds and is an insult to woman's dignity. Gandhi publishes the complaints of Hindu women at the degrading attitude of Hindu nationalists.[89] Gandhi takes the women's side. Their protest, he says, proves that there is another sore in India as bad as that of untouchability. But the woman question is not a purely Indian problem. The whole world suffers from it. As with the pariahs, he expects more from the oppressed than from the oppressors. He calls upon women to demand and inspire respect by ceasing to think of themselves as the objects of masculine desire only. Let them forget their bodies and enter into public life, assume the risks, and suffer the consequences of their convictions. Women should not only renounce luxury and throw away or burn foreign goods, but they should share men's problems and privations. Many distinguished women have faced arrest and imprisonment in Calcutta. This shows the proper spirit. Instead of asking for mercy, women should vie with men in suffering for the cause. When it comes to suffering, women will always surpass men. Let women have no fear. The weakest will be able to preserve her honor. "One who knows how to die need never fear."

Nor does Gandhi forget the fallen sisters.[90] He tells of conversations with them in the provinces of Andhra and Barisal, where they met in conference. He spoke to them nobly and simply, and they replied, confided in him, and asked his advice. He tried to suggest some way in which they might make an honest living, and proposed spinning. They agreed to begin the very next day if assured of encouragement and assistance. And then Gandhi turned to the men of India; called upon them to respect women:

Gambling in vice has no place in our revolution. Swaraj, home rule, means that we must regard every inhabitant of India as our own brother or sister. Woman is not the weaker sex, but the better half of humanity, the nobler of the two; for even to-day it is the embodiment of sacrifice, silent suffering, humility, faith, and knowledge. Woman's intuition has often proved truer than man's arrogant assumption of knowledge.

In the women of India, beginning with his own wife, Gandhi always found intelligent aid and understanding, and among them he recruited some of his best disciples.

§ 6

In 1921 Gandhi's power was at its apogee. His authority as a moral leader was vast, and without having sought it, almost ilimited political authority had been placed in his hand. The people looked upon him as a saint. Pictures were painted representing him as Sri-Krishna.[91] And at the end of the year, in December, the All-India National Congress delegated its powers to him and authorized him to appoint his successor. He was the undisputed master of India's policy. It was up to him to start a political revolution, if he saw fit, or even to reform religion.

He did not do so. He did not wish to do so. Moral grandeur? Moral hesitancy? Both, perhaps. It is very difficult for one human being really to understand another, particularly if they belong to different races and civilizations. And how much more difficult when a spirit so deep and subtle as Gandhi's is to be considered! In the maze of events which took place in India, in this tumultuous year, it is hard to ascertain whether the pilot's hand did not tremble, but, always firm and sure, steered the colossal ship along the chosen course. I will try, however, to explain my feeling in regard to the living enigma, and I will do so with the religious respect which I have for this great man and the sincerity which I owe to his sincerity.

If Gandhi's power was great, the danger of abusing it was equally great. As the effect of his campaign, by the slightest ripple, affected hundreds of millions of men, it became more and more difficult to direct the movement and at the same time remain firm in the midst of the turbulent ocean. A superhuman problem indeed, to conciliate moderation and high-mindedness with surging, unbridled mob passions! The pilot, gentle and pious, prays and relies on God; but the voice that comes to him is almost lost in the roar of the tempest. Will it ever reach the others?

There is no danger of his being swept off his feet by pride. No amount of adoration can turn his head. On the contrary, it wounds not only his sense of fitness of things, but his spirit of humility. Gandhi is an exception among prophets and mystics, for he sees no visions, has no revelations; he does not try to persuade himself that he is guided supernaturally, nor does he try to make others believe it. Radiant sincerity is his. His forehead remains calm and clear, his heart devoid of vanity. He is a man, like all other men. He is not a saint. He will not have the people call him one. (Yet his very attitude proves that he is one.)

The word "saint," he says, should be ruled out of present life.

I pray like every good Hindu. I believe we can all be messengers of God. I have no special revelations of God's will. My firm belief is that He reveals himself daily to every human being, but that we shut our cars to the "still small voice." ... I claim to be nothing but a humble servant of India and humanity. I have no desire to found a sect. I am really too ambitious to be satisfied with a sect for a following, for I represent no new truths. I endeavor to follow and represent truth as I know it. I do claim to throw a new light on many an old truth.[92]

Personally, he is always modest, conscientious in the extreme, incapable of narrow-mindedness whether as Indian patriot or apostle of non-coöperation. He sanctions no tyranny, not even for the good of the cause. Government oppression must never be replaced by non-coöperative oppression.[93] Gandhi will not set his country up against other countries; his patriotism is not confined to the boundaries of India. "For me, patriotism is the same as humanity. I am patriotic because I am human and humane. My patriotism is not exclusive. I will not hurt England or Germany to serve India. Imperialism has no place in my scheme of life. A patriot is so much less a patriot if he is a lukewarm humanitarian."[94]

But have his disciples always felt this way? And, on their lips, what becomes of Gandhi's doctrine? And, interpreted by them, how does it reach the masses?

When Rabindranath Tagore, after traveling several years in Europe, returned to India in August, 1921, he was astounded at the change in the mentality of the people. Even before his return he had expressed his anxiety in a series of letters sent from Europe to friends in India. Many of these letters were published in his "Modern Review."[95] The controversy between Tagore and Gandhi, between two great minds, both moved by mutual admiration and esteem, but as fatally separated in their feeling as a philosopher can be from an apostle, a St. Paul from a Plato, is important. For on the one side we have the spirit of religious faith and charity seeking to found a new humanity. On the other we have intelligence, free-born, serene, and broad, seeking to unite aspirations of all humanity in sympathy and understanding.

Tagore always looked upon Gandhi as a saint, and I have often heard him speak of him with veneration. When, in referring to the Mahatma, I mentioned Tolstoi, Tagore pointed out to me, and I realize it now that I know Gandhi better—how much more clothed in light and radiance Gandhi's spirit is than Tolstoi's. With Gandhi everything is nature—modest, simple, pure—while all his struggles are hallowed by religious serenity, whereas with Tolstoi everything is proud revolt against pride, hatred against hatred, passion against passion. Everything in Tolstoi is violence, even his doctrine of non-violence. On April 10, 1921, Tagore wrote from London, "We are grateful to Gandhi for giving India a chance to prove that her faith in the divine spirit of man is still living." Despite the misgivings he had expressed as to Gandhi's campaign, Tagore, when he left France to return to India, sincerely planned to back Gandhi in every way. And even the manifesto of October, 1921, which I will discuss later—the "Appeal to Truth," which marked the break between the two men—begins with one of the most beautiful tributes to Gandhi that have ever been written.

Gandhi's attitude to Tagore is one of loving regard, and it does not change even when the two disagree. You feel that Gandhi is loath to enter into polemics with Tagore, and when certain kind friends try to embitter the debate by repeating personal remarks, Gandhi bids them be silent and explains how much he owes Tagore.[96]

Yet it was inevitable that the breach between the two men would widen. As far back as in 1920 Tagore had deplored that the overflowing wealth of Gandhi's love and faith should be made to serve political ends, as it had since Tilak's death. Of course Gandhi had not entered the political arena with a light heart. But when Tilak died, India was left without a political leader, and some one had to take his place.

As Gandhi says:[97]

If I seem to take part in politics, it is only because politics to-day encircle us like the coils of a snake from which one cannot get out no matter how one tries. I wish to wrestle with the snake.... I am trying to introduce religion into politics.

But this Tagore deplores. Writing September 7, 1920, he says, "We need all the moral force which Mahatma Gandhi represents, and which he alone in the world can represent." That such a precious treasure should be cast out on the frail bark of politics and subjected to the incessant lashing of the waves of conflicting and irritated passions is a serious misfortune for India, whose mission, says Tagore, "is to awaken the dead to life by soul-fire." The wasting of spiritual resources in problems which, when considered in the light of abstract moral truth, are unworthy, is to be regretted. "It is criminal to transform moral force into force."

This is what Tagore felt at the spectacular launching of the non-coöperation campaign and at the unrest stirred up in the name of the Khilafat cause and the massacres of the Punjab. He feared the results of the campaign on an easily excitable mob subject to attacks of hysterical fury. He would have liked to turn people's minds away from vengeance and dreams of impossible redress; he would have had them forget the irreparable and devote all efforts to constructing and fashioning a new soul for India. And although he admired Gandhi's doctrines and the ardent fire of his spirit of self-sacrifice, he hated the element of negation contained in non-coöperation. Tagore instinctively recoiled from everything that stood for "No."

And this conviction leads him to compare the positive ideal of Brahmanism, which demands that the joys of life be welcomed but purified, to the negative ideal of Buddhism, which demands their suppression.[98] To this Gandhi replies that the art of eliminating is as vital as that of accepting.[99] Human progress consists in a combination of the two. The final word in the Upanishads is a negation. The definition of Brahman by the authors of the Upanishads is neti, not this! India had lost the power of saying "No." Gandhi has given it back to her. Weeding is as essential as sowing.

But Tagore, apparently, does not believe in weeding. In his poetic contemplation of life he is satisfied with things as they are, and he finds his delight in admiring their harmony. He explains his point of view in lines of great beauty, but detached from real life. His words are like the dance of Nataraja, a play of illusions. Tagore says he tries to tune his spirit up to the great exaltation that is sweeping over the country. But he cannot do so, for in his heart, despite himself, is a spirit of resistance. "In the darkness of my despair," he says, "I see a smile and hear a voice that says, 'Your place is with the children, playing on the beaches of the world, and there I am with you.'" Tagore plays with harmonies, invents new rhythms, "strung out through the hours, like children dancing in the sun and laughing as they disappear." All creation is happy, with Tagore; flowers and leaves are merely rhythms that never cease. God Himself is the supreme juggler, who plays with Time, tossing stars and planets out upon the torrent of appearances, and dropping paper boats filled with dreams into the river of the ages. "When I beg Him to let me be His disciple and to let me place some of the toys of my invention into one of his merry barks. He smiles, and I follow Him, clutching the hem of his gown." Here Tagore feels he is in his place. "But where am I, in a great crowd, squeezed in at all sides? And who can understand the noise I hear? If I hear a song, my sitar can catch the melody, and I can join the chorus, for I am a singer. But in the mad clamor of the crowd, my voice is lost, and I become dizzy." Tagore has tried, in the clamor of non-coöperation, to find a melody, but to no avail. And he says to himself: "If you can't march in step with your compatriots in the greatest crisis of their history, beware of saying they are in the wrong, and you in the right! But give up your place in the ranks, go back to your poet's corner, and be prepared to meet with ridicule and public disgrace."[100]

So would a Goethe speak, an Indian Goethe, Bacchus. And it would seem as if Tagore's mind is made up from now on. The poet bids action farewell, since this action implies a negation, and he withdraws back into the spell of creative enchantment he weaves around himself. But Tagore does not only withdraw. As he says, Fate had decided that he should steer his bark against the current. At the time he was not only the "poet" but the spiritual ambassador of Asia to Europe; he had just returned from Europe, where he had asked people to coöperate in creating a world university at Santiniketan. What an irony of destiny that he should be preaching cooperation between Occident and Orient at one end of the world, when at that very moment non-coöperation was being preached at the other end![101]

Non-coöperation wounded him doubly, therefore, in his work as well as in his conception of life. "I believe," he says, "in the real union of Orient and Occident."

Non-coöperation clashed with his way of thinking, for his mentality, his rich intelligence, had been nourished on all the cultures of the world. "All humanity's greatest is mine," he says. "The infinite personality of man (as the Upanishads say) can only come from the magnificent harmony of all human races. My prayer is that India may represent the coöperation of all the peoples of the world. For India, unity is truth, and division evil. Unity is that which embraces and understands everything; consequently, it cannot be attained through negation. The present attempt to separate our spirit from that of the Occident is an attempt at spiritual suicide.... The present age has been dominated by the Occident, because the Occident had a mission to fulfill. We of the Orient should learn from the Occident. It is regrettable, of course, that we had lost the power of appreciating our own culture, and therefore did not know how to assign Western culture to its right place. But to say that it is wrong to coöperate with the West is to encourage the worst form of provincialism and can produce nothing but intellectual indigence. The problem is a world problem. No nation can find its own salvation by breaking away from others. We must all be saved or we must all perish together."[102]

In other words, just as Goethe in 1818 refused to reject French civilization and culture, Tagore refuses to banish Western civilization. While Gandhi's doctrine does not really set a barrier up between the East and West, Tagore knows it will be interpreted as doing so, once Hindu nationalism is stirred. Tagore fears the development of the spirit of exclusion, and he explains his feeling of doubt and anxiety when his students at the beginning of the non-cooperation movement came to seek his advice. What does the boycotting of schools and colleges mean? asks Tagore. "That students shall make a sacrifice—for what? Not for a more complete education, but for non-education." During the first Swadeshi campaign[103] a group of young students told him that they would leave their schools and colleges at once if he ordered them to do so. And when he refused to do so, they left him, in much irritation, doubting his patriotism.[104]

In the spring of 1921, when India began boycotting English schools, Tagore had seen an aggressive example of intellectual nationalism in London. During a lecture of one of Tagore's friends. Professor Pearson, some Indian students gave vent to misplaced national manifestations. Tagore became indignant, and in a letter addressed to the director of Santiniketan he condemned this spirit of intolerance and held the non-coöperation movement responsible for it. And to this accusation Gandhi replies:

I do not want my house to be walled in on all sides and my windows to be stuffed. I want the culture of all lands to be blown about my house as freely as possible.... But I refuse to be blown off my feet by any of them ... Mine is not a religion of the prison-house. It has room for the least among God's creations. But it is proof against insolent pride of race, religion, or color.

While expressing his doubts as to the merits of an English literary education, which has nothing to do with the building up of character, an education which, he said, has emasculated the youth of India, Gandhi regretted the excesses mentioned and claimed that his attitude was not narrow, as Tagore seemed to imply.

These were frank and noble words, but they did not disarm Tagore's misgivings. Tagore did not doubt Gandhi, but he feared the Gandhists. And from the first contact with his people, after his return from Europe, he began to fear the blind faith which the people placed in the Mahatma's words. Tagore saw the danger of mental despotism loom near, and in the "Modern Review" of October, 1921, he published a real manifesto, "An Appeal to Truth," which was a cry of revolt against this blind obedience. The protest was particularly strong because it was preceded by a beautiful homage to the Mahatma. After describing the first Indian independence movement in 1907 and 1908, Tagore explained that in those days the political leaders were inspired by a bookish ideal, based on the traditions of Burke, Gladstone, Mazzini, and Garibaldi, and their message could be understood only by the elite. They advanced, in short, an English-speaking ideal. But then came Mahatma Gandhi! He stopped at the thresholds of the thousands of disinherited, dressed like one of their own. He spoke to them in their own language. Here was truth at last, and not only quotations from books! Mahatma, the name given by the people of India to Gandhi, is his real name. For who else had felt, like him, in communion with the people? Felt that they are of his own flesh and blood? At the Mahatma's call the hidden forces of the soul have blossomed forth, for the Mahatma has made the truth into something concrete, visible. In the same way, thousands of years ago, India blossomed forth to new greatness at Buddha's call, when he made men understand that there must be compassion and fellow-feeling among all living creatures. India, stirred to new life, expressed her strength in science and wealth, spreading across oceans and deserts. No commercial or military conquests ever spread so magnificently. For love alone is truth.

But then Tagore's tone changed. The apotheosis stopped. Deception followed. In Europe, across the seas, Tagore felt the quiver of India's great revival. Thrilled, filled with joy at the thought of breathing in the fluid breeze of the new freedom, he returned to his home land. But on his arrival his elation fell. An oppressive atmosphere weighed on the people. "An outside influence seemed to be bearing down on them, grinding them and making one and all speak in the same tone, follow in the same groove. Everywhere I was told that culture and reasoning power should abdicate, and blind obedience only reign. So simple it is to crush, in the name of some outward liberty, the real freedom of the soul!"

We understand Tagore's misgivings and his appeal. They are of all times and ages. The last free minds of a crumbling old world voiced them at the dawn of the new Christianity. And whenever we ourselves encounter the rising tide of some blind faith in a social or national ideal we feel the same misgivings stir within us. Tagore's revolt is the revolt of the free soul against the ages of faith which it has suscitated, for while faith to a handful of chosen ones means supreme liberty, it means only another form of slavery for the masses who are led by it.

Tagore's criticism is aimed above and beyond the fanaticism of the crowd. Over the blind masses it strikes the Mahatma. No matter how great Gandhi may be, isn't he taking upon himself more than a single man can bear? A cause as great as India's should not be dependent on the will of a single master. The Mahatma is the master of truth and love, but the attainment of Swaraj home rule, is vastly complicated. "The paths are intricate and hard to explore. Emotion and enthusiasm are required, but also science and meditation. All the moral forces of the nation must be called upon. Economists must find practical solutions, educators must teach, statesmen ponder, workers work.... Everywhere the desire to learn must be kept up free and unhampered. No pressure, either open or hidden, must weigh on the intelligence." ... "In older days, in our primeval forests," says Tagore, "our sages, gurus, in the plenitude of their vision, called on all seekers of truth.... Why does not our guru, who wants to lead us to action, make the same call?" But the only command that Guru Gandhi so far has launched is, "Spin and weave!" And Tagore asks, "Is this the gospel of a new creative age? If large machinery constitutes a danger for the West, will not small machines constitute a greater danger for us?" The forces of a nation must cooperate, not only with each other, but with other nations. "The awakening of India is bound up in the awakening of the world. Every nation that tries to shut itself in violates the spirit of the new age." And Tagore, who has spent several years in Europe, speaks of some of the men he met—men who have freed their hearts from the chains of nationalism in order to serve humanity—men who constitute the persecuted minority of world citizens, cives totius orbis—and he classes them among the sannyasins, that is, "those who in their soul have realized human unity."[105]

And should India alone, asks Tagore, recite the chapter of negation, dwell eternally on the faults of others, and strive for Swaraj on a basis of hatred? When the bird is awakened by the dawn, it does not only think of food. Its wings respond to the call of the sky. Its throat fills with joyous songs to greet the coming day. A new humanity has sent out its call. Let India reply in her own way! "Our first duty, at dawn, is to remember Him Who is One, who is indistinguishable through class or color, and who, by his varied forces, provides, as is necessary, for the needs of each class and of all. Let us pray Him, who gives wisdom, to unite us all in understanding."[106]

Tagore's noble words, some of the most beautiful ever addressed to a nation, are a poem of sunlight, and plane above all human struggles. And the only criticism one can make of them is that they plane too high. Tagore is right, from the point of view of eternity. The bird-poet, the eagle-sized lark, as Heine called a master of our music, sits and sings on the ruins of time. He lives in eternity. But the demands of the present are imperious. The hour that passes demands immediate, if imperfect, relief; but clamors for it. And in this respect Gandhi, who lacks Tagore's poetic flight (or who, perhaps, as a Boddhisattva of pity has given it up in order to live among the disinherited) finds it child's play to reply.

In his answer to Tagore Gandhi displays more passion than he has so far shown in the controversy. On October 13, 1921, in "Young India," his stirring rejoinder appears. Gandhi thanks the "Great Sentinel"[107] for having warned India as to the pitfalls ahead. He agrees with Tagore that most essential of all is the maintenance of a free spirit.

We must not surrender our reason into anybody's keeping. Blind surrender to love is often more mischievous than forced surrender to the lash of the tyrant. There is hope for the slave of the brute, none for that of love.

Tagore is the sentinel who warns of the approach of the enemies called Bigotry, Lethargy, Intolerance, Ignorance, and Inertia. But Gandhi does not feel that Tagore's misgivings are justified. The Mahatma always appeals to reason. It is not true that India is moved by blind obedience only. If the country decided to adopt the spinning-wheel, this has been only after considerable reflection. Tagore speaks of patience and is satisfied with beautiful songs. But there is war. Let the poet lay down his lyre! Let him sing when it is over! When a house is on fire, all must go out and take up a bucket to quench the fire.

When all about me are dying for want of food, the only occupation permissible for me is to feed the hungry. India is a house on fire. It is dying of hunger because it has no work to buy food with. Khulna is starving. The Ceded Districts are passing successively through a fourth famine. Orissa is a land suffering from chronic famine. India is growing daily poorer. The circulation about her feet and legs has almost stopped. And if we do not take care she will collapse altogether....

To a people famishing and idle the only acceptable form in which God can dare appear is work and promise of food as wages. God created man to work for his food and said that those who ate without work were thieves. We must think of millions who to-day are less than animals, almost in a dying state. Hunger is the argument that is drawing India to the spinning-wheel.

The poet lives for the morrow, and would have us do likewise. He presents to our admiring gaze the beautiful picture of the birds in the early morning singing hymns of praise as they soar into the sky. Those birds had their day's food and soared with rested wings in whose veins new blood had flown the previous night. But I have had the pain of watching birds who for want of strength could not be coaxed even into a flutter of their wings. The human bird under the Indian sky gets up weaker than when he pretended to retire. For millions it is an eternal vigil or an eternal trance. I have found it impossible to soothe suffering patients with a song from Kabir....

Give them work that they may eat! "Why should I, who have no need to work for food, spin?" may be the question asked. Because I am eating what does not belong to me. I am living on the spoliation of my countrymen. Trace the course of every coin that finds its way into your pocket, and you will realize the truth of what I write. Every one must spin. Let Tagore spin, like the others. Let him burn his foreign clothes; that is the duty to-day. God will take care of the morrow. As it says in the Gitâ, Do right!

Dark and tragic words these! Here we have the misery of the world rising up before the dream of art and crying, "Dare deny me existence!" Who does not sympathize with Gandhi's passionate emotion and share it?

And yet, in his reply so proud and so poignant, there is nevertheless something that justifies Tagore's misgivings: sileat poeta, imposing silence on the person who is called upon to obey the imperious discipline of the cause. Obey without discussion the law of Swadeshi, the first command of which is, Spin!

No doubt, in the human battle, discipline is a duty. But, unfortunately, those who are intrusted with enforcing this discipline, the master's lieutenants, may be narrow-minded men. They may mistake the discipline chosen to attain the ideal for the ideal itself. Discipline fascinates them by its rigidity, for they are of the kind who feel at ease only on the narrow path. They look upon Swadeshi as essential, not as a means to an end, but in itself. In their eyes it acquires an almost sacred character. One of Gandhi's disciples, professor at the school that lies nearest his heart, the Satyagraha Ashram of Sarbarmati at Ahmedabad, Mr. D. B. Kalelkar, writes a "Gospel of Swadeshi," which Gandhi, in a preface, stamps with his approval.[108] This book, or pamphlet, is addressed to the man in the street. Let us examine the creed as it is taught by one of those who drink at the very source of the unpolluted doctrine:

Now and then God is incarnated on earth to redeem the world. His incarnation need not necessarily be in human form.... He may be manifest in an abstract principle or in an ideal which uplifts the world.... His latest incarnation is in the "Gospel of Swadeshi"...

The apostle realizes that this statement may cause a smile if Swadeshi is to be interpreted as meaning the boycott of foreign goods only. This is only a partial application of Swadeshi, which is a "vast religious principle that will rid the world of strife and hatred and liberate humanity." Its quintessence may be found in the Indian scriptures:

Your own religious Dharma—that is to say, your own religious destiny or salvation—though imperfect, is the best. The fulfilment of Dharma for which you were not intended is always fraught with danger. He alone attains happiness who fulfils the task laid out for him.

The fundamental law of Swadeshi springs from faith in God, "who has provided, in all eternity, for the happiness of the world. This God has placed each human being in the environment best suited for the fulfilment of his task. A man's work and his aspirations should be suited to his position in the world. We cannot choose our culture any more than our birth, family, or country. We must accept what God has given us; we must accept tradition as coming from God and regard it as a strict duty to live up to it. To renounce tradition would be sinful."

From these premises it follows that the inhabitant of one country should not concern himself with other countries.

The follower of Swadeshi never takes upon himself the vain task of trying to reform the world, for he believes that the world is moved and always will be moved according to rules set by God.... One must not expect the people of one country to provide for the needs of another, even for philanthropic reasons, and if it were possible, it would not be desirable.... The true follower of Swadeshi does not forget that every human being is his brother, but that it is incumbent on him to fulfil the task his particular environment has laid down for him. Just as we must work out our salvation in the century in which we are born, we should serve the country in which we are born. The emancipation of our soul should be sought through religion and our own culture.

Is it, however, permissible for a nation to take advantage of all opportunities to develop its resources of commerce and industry? Indeed not. An unworthy ambition to wish to develop India's manufactures! It would be asking people to violate their Dharmas! It is as criminal to export one's products as to import those of others. "For proselytism is repellent to the spirit of Swadeshi." And the logical conclusion of this theory, rather startling to a European, is that it is as sinful to export goods as ideas. If India has been bitterly humiliated in history, it is as punishment for the crimes of ancestors who traded with ancient Egypt and Rome, a crime deliberately repeated by all succeeding generations. Every nation, every class, should remain true to its own duty, live on its own resources, and be inspired by its own traditions.

We should avoid being intimate with those whose social customs are different from ours. We should not mingle in the lives of men or peoples whose ideals are different from ours.... Every man is a brook. Every nation is a river. They must follow their course, clear and pure, till they reach the Sea of Salvation, where all will blend.

What is this but the triumph of nationalism? The narrowest and most unpolluted? Stay at home, shut all doors, change nothing, hold on to everything, export nothing, buy nothing, uplift and purify body and spirit! A gospel, indeed, of medieval monks![109] And Gandhi, of the broad mind, lets his name be associated with it!

Tagore's bewilderment, when met with these visionaries of reactionary nationalism, is comprehensible. No wonder he was taken back by these apostles, who would reverse the march of centuries, shut the free soul in a cage, and burn all bridges communicating with the West.[110] As a matter of fact, Gandhi's doctrine really implies nothing of the sort. As may be seen from his reply to Tagore, he says, "Swadeshi is a message to the world." The world exists; therefore, Gandhi reckons with it, and does not repudiate "proselyting. Non-coöperation," he says, "is not directed against the English or the West. Our non-coöperation is directed against material civilization and its attendant greed and exploitation of the weak." In other words, it combats the errors of the West and would therefore be beneficial to the West also. "Our non-coöperation is a retirement within ourselves." A temporary retirement to enable India to gather up her forces before placing them at the services of humanity. "India must learn to live before she can aspire to die for humanity." Gandhi does not forbid coöperation with Europe provided the sound ideal which he sets up for all men is adhered to.

Gandhi's real doctrine is much broader, much more human, much more universal[111] than that expressed in the "Gospel" which he has approved. Why did Gandhi lend his name to this "Gospel"? Why does he let his magnificent ideal, a message for the whole world, be imprisoned within the narrow bonds of an Indian theocracy? Beware of disciples! The purer they are, the more pernicious. God preserve a great man from friends who only grasp part of his ideal! In codifying it, they destroy the harmony which is the real blessing of his living soul.

But this is not all. While the disciples who live near the master are at least tinged by his noble spirituality, what about the disciples of his disciples, and the others, the masses to whom the doctrine comes merely as vague and broken echoes? How much and what do they absorb of the gospel of spiritual purification and creative renouncement? Unfortunately, to them the doctrine appears in its most rudimentary and material form, in a sort of Messianic waiting for the advent of Swaraj, home rule, by the spinning-wheel! This is the negation of all progress. It's the old fuori Barbari. Tagore is alarmed, and not without reason, at the violence of the apostles of non-violence, and even Gandhi is not absolutely free from it. Gandhi says that he would "withdraw from the field if he felt hatred for the English," for one must love one's enemies while hating their deeds, "hate Satanism while loving Satan." The distinction, however, is a little too subtle for the average man to grasp. And when at each session of the congress the leaders dwell with fiery eloquence on the crimes and treachery of the English, anger and rancor pile up behind the sluices; and beware when the sluices burst! When Gandhi, explaining why he advocates the burning of precious stuffs in Bombay in August, 1921, says to Andrews, Tagore's friend, that "He is transferring ill will from men to things,"[112] he does not realize that the fury of the masses is gathering impetus, and that instinctively these masses reason, "Things first, men next!" He does not foresee that in this same Bombay, less than three months afterward, men will be killing men. Gandhi is too much of a saint; he is too pure, top free from the animal passions that lie dormant in man. He does not dream that they lie there, crouching within the people, devouring his words and thriving on them. Tagore, more clear-sighted, realizes the danger the non-coöperators are skirting when they innocently lay bare the crimes of Europe, profess non-violence, and simultaneously plant in people's minds the virus which will inevitably break in violence! But this they do not realize, these apostles whose hearts are free from hatred. But he who would lead men in action must know the heart-beats of the others, not merely his own. Beware the mob! Cave canem! The moral precepts of a Gandhi will not be able to curb it. The only way, perhaps, to prevent it from running wild, the only way, perhaps, of making it yield docilely to the austere discipline of the master, would be for him to pose as an incarnated god, as those who paint him as Sri-Krishna secretly hope he will do. But Gandhi's sincerity and his humility prevent him from playing the role.

And then, planing above the roaring human ocean alone, remains the single voice of the purest of men, but only a man. How long will it be heard? Grandiose and tragic waiting!

PART THREE

§ 1

In 1921 the non-coöperation movement evolved rapidly. The whole year was one of uncertainty, expectancy, and violent outbreaks. Gandhi inevitably reflected its oscillations.

For a long time hostility had been growing, and it broke out in open revolt at the Government's brutally oppressive measures. There were riots at Malegaon, in the district of Nasik, and at Giridih, in Behar. In the beginning of May, 1921, there were serious clashes in Assam. Twelve thousand coolies stopped work in the tea-gardens, and were attacked by Gurkhas drafted by the Government, and in eastern Bengal the railroad and steamship workers organized a two months' strike in protest. Gandhi did all in his power to calm the effervescence. In May he had a long conversation with the viceroy, Lord Reading, and he also used his influence with the Ali brothers, who were said to be stirring up violence by their inflammatory speeches. Gandhi was able to persuade his Moslem friends to "refrain from directly or indirectly advocating violence."

The non-coöperation movement, however, grew more and more powerful as time went on. The Moslem element in particular became audacious. At Karachi, July 8, for instance, the All-India Khilafat Conference, after reiterating the Moslem claims, declared that no Mussulman should serve in the English Army or assist in recruiting. In fact, the conference even went so far as to threaten to proclaim a republic in India and advocate civil disobedience at the December session of the National Congress if the Government did not change its hostile attitude to the Angora leaders. A little later, on July 28, the committee of the National Congress (the first congress committee elected according to the new constitution) sitting at Bombay decided to boycott the Prince of Wales, whose visit was announced, and declared a boycott on all foreign materials, to become effective before September 30. It also took steps to intensify and regulate national spinning and weaving, and urged the organization of a more vigorous campaign against the drink evil, despite the Government's support of the dealers. Less audacious than the Mussulmans of the Khilafat Conference, however, the congress committee disavowed revolutionary tendencies and disapproved civil disobedience, approving a more; strenuous propaganda in favor of non-violence.

In August a brutal revolt of the Moplahs took place, and lasted several months. With Maulana Mohamed Ali, Gandhi decided to go from Calcutta to Malabar to try to quiet it. But the Government arrested Maulana Mohamed and his brother Maulana Shaukat Ali as well as several other Moslem notables, accusing them of having voted for civil disobedience at the Khilafat Conference. At the news of the Ali brothers' arrest, the Central Khilafat Committee, sitting at Delhi, ratified unanimously the resolutions of the Khilafat Conference. Hundreds of demonstrations, held all over India, confirmed the people's approval of them. On October 4, Gandhi announced that he considered his cause hound up with that of the Mussulmans. In a manifesto approved by fifty prominent members of the All-India Congress Gandhi declared that every citizen was entitled to express his views on non-coöperation, adding that no Indian, whether civil functionary or soldier, should serve a Government which has brought about the moral, political, and economical degradation of India. He set up non-coöperation with such a Government as an imperative duty. The Ali brothers' trial took place at Karachi. With their fellow-accused, they were sentenced to two years' imprisonment.

To this sentence India replied with redoubled vigor. Gandhi's manifesto was ratified by the Committee of the All-India Congress on November 4 at Delhi. And casting the die, the committee authorized every province, on its own responsibility, to proclaim civil disobedience, beginning with a refusal to pay taxes. "Resisters," however, were first to swear complete obedience to the Swadeshi program, including hand spinning, and take the vow of non-violence. In other words, under Gandhi's direction the committee tried to combine resistance against the Government with discipline and self-sacrifice. To make the disinterested character of the movement clear. Resisters were informed that neither they nor their families would receive any pecuniary aid from the committee.

The great disobedience was about to become effective when, on November 17, the Prince of Wales landed at Bombay. The boycott was carried out by the lower and the middle classes; but the rich, the Parsees and official personages, ignored the order completely. Their attitude created such fury among the populace that the masses stormed the houses of the rich, looting and sacking homes and property, sparing no one, not even the women. Many were killed and wounded. This was the only case of violence, however. Everywhere else, all over India, the prescribed hartal took place in the midst of almost religious quiet and order. There were no disturbances of any kind. But the news of the Bombay riots wounded Gandhi "like an arrow shot in his heart." As soon as he heard of them he rushed to the spot, and when the rioters cheered him his mortification knew no bounds. He called the crowd angrily to order and commanded it to disperse. He declared that the Parsees were justified in celebrating the prince's arrival if they wished, and, in any event, nothing justified violence. The crowd listened to Gandhi in silence, but farther off the tumult broke out again. The worst elements seemed to have suddenly emerged from the earth, and twenty thousand men, towering in rage and hatred, cannot be brought back to reason all at once. Still, the rioters remained localized in certain districts, and the destruction was not half so great as that caused by the most insignificant revolutionary outbreak in Europe. Gandhi, however, issued anguished appeals to the citizens of Bombay and to the non-coöperators, and declared that such incidents proved that the masses were not yet ripe for civil disobedience. Therefore he suspended the order proclaiming it. To punish himself for the violence of his followers, he imposed upon himself a religious fast of twenty-four hours every week.

The European residents in India were less alarmed by the Bombay riots than by the striking unanimousness of the silent hartal throughout the country. They urged the viceroy and the Government to act, and a series of oppressive measures were imposed in the various provinces. An old law, aimed at anarchists and secret societies, dating from the uprisings of 1908, was unearthed, and made to serve against the volunteer associations of the Congress and of the Khilafat. Arrests were made by the thousand, which only resulted in bringing thousands of new recruits to register as volunteers, who were then trained by the provincial committees. In the meantime a hartal was set for December 24, the date of the Prince of Wales's visit to Calcutta. That day the prince passed through a silent, absolutely deserted city.

The revolution seemed to be smoldering everywhere, ready to burst into flame when the Indian National Congress met at Ahmedabad. There was about it the impressive solemnity of the États-Généraux on the eve of the French Revolution in 1789. The president of the congress had just been imprisoned. The discussions were brief. The congress again proclaimed its faith in non-coöperation and invited all citizens to register as volunteers and to be prepared to face arrest. It also urged the people to organize mass-meetings everywhere; and after expressing the opinion that civil disobedience is a weapon equally effective and more humane than armed rebellion, it moved that civil disobedience be adopted as soon as the masses had grasped the real spirit of non-violence. Realizing that many of the members would be arrested at the close of the session, the congress delegated its powers to Gandhi, investing him with a dictature de facto and authorizing him to appoint his successor. This made Gandhi sole master of India's policy. The congress limited his authority on one point only, and this was that he should agree to no change in the national creed nor make peace with the Government without the consent of the congress committee. A fraction of the assembly tried to pass a resolution approving violence, if necessary to bring about India's independence, but this resolution was rejected by the majority, which believed in Gandhi's principles.

The ensuing weeks revealed the religious enthusiasm which swept over India. Twenty-five thousand men and women joyfully surrendered themselves to prison guards. And back of them, thousands of others stood ready to give themselves up to prove their faith in the cause of India.

§ 2

Again Gandhi believed the country was ripe for civil disobedience en masse. The signal was to be given in a model district, at Bardoli, in the province of Bombay.[113] Here Gandhi's ideas had always been understood and followed. In an open letter to the viceroy, dated February 9, 1922, Gandhi set forth his program. The letter is a courteous, but clear, declaration of war. Gandhi says he is the leader of the non-coöperation movement, and he claims responsibility for it. Bardoli will be the first unit of non-violent mass revolt against a government which has brutally infringed upon freedom of the press, of association, and of speech. Gandhi gives Lord Reading seven days in which to announce a change of policy. If the "viceroy will not or cannot see such an incredibly simple issue," civil disobedience will be proclaimed.[114]

Scarcely had the letter, to the viceroy been despatched when there occurred an outbreak more violent than any of the others. During a procession at Chauri-Chaura, in the district of Gorakhpur, or, rather, after the procession had passed, some stragglers were "interfered with and abused by the constables." Attacked by the mob, the constables opened fire, and when they exhausted their ammunition they retired to the thana (the police barracks) for safety. The mob set fire to the thana. In vain the besieged begged for mercy. They were pitilessly massacred and burned. As the provocation had come from them, however, and as no non-coöperation volunteer had had a hand in the attack, Gandhi would have been justified in disclaiming all responsibility for the outrage. But he had really become the conscience of India. The crime of a single one of his people cut him to the quick. He took upon himself all the sins of his people. His horror was such that on the spur of the moment, and for the second time, he stopped the civil-disobedience movement that he had just launched. The situation was vastly more complicated than after the Bombay riots, and only a few days before he had sent his ultimatum to the viceroy. How could he retract it without making his program seem illogical and even ridiculous? "Satan," as Gandhi says, "forbade it." Realizing that "Satan's" voice was the voice of pride, he decided to retract the manifesto.

And on February 16,1922, there appeared in "Young India" one of the most extraordinary human documents ever written. It is Gandhi's mea culpa, his public confession. From the depths of his mortification words of thanks swell to his lips, of thanks to God for having humbled him:

God has been abundantly kind to me. He has warned me for the third time that there is not as yet in India that truthful and non-violent atmosphere which, and which alone, can justify mass disobedience, which can be at all described as "civil," which means gentle, truthful, humble, knowing, wilful, yet loving, never criminal and hateful. He warned me in 1919 when the Rowlatt Act agitation was started. Ahmedabad, Viramvrag, and Kheda erred. I retraced my steps, called it a Himalayan miscalculation, humbled myself before God and man, and stopped not merely mass civil disobedience, but even my own.... The next time it was through the events of Bombay that God gave me a terrific warning. He made me eyewitness.... I announced my intention to stop the mass civil disobedience which was to be immediately started in Bardoli. The humiliation was greater than that in 1919. But it did me good and I am sure that the nations gained by the stopping. India stood for truth and non-violence by the suspension.

But the bitterest humiliation was still to come.... God spoke clearly through Chauri-Chaura.... And when India claims to be non-violent and hopes to mount the throne of liberty through non-violent means, mob violence even in answer to grave provocation is a bad augury.... Non-violent attainment of self-government presupposes a non-violent control over the violent elements in the country. Non-violent non-coöperators can only succeed when they have succeeded in attaining control over the hooligan of India....

Therefore, on February 11, at Bardoli, he "put his doubts and troubles" before the working committee of the congress. They did not all agree with him. "But never," he said, "has a man been 'blessed,' perhaps, with colleagues and associates so considerate and forgiving."

They sympathized with his scruples and consented, at his request, to suspend the order of civil disobedience, urging at the same time that all organizations strive to create an atmosphere of non-violence.

I know that the drastic reversal of practically the whole of the aggressive program may be politically unsound and unwise, but there is no doubt that it is religiously sound. The country will have gained by my humiliation and confession of error. The only virtue I want to claim is truth and non-violence. I lay no claim to superhuman powers. I want none. I wear the same corruptible flesh that the weakest of my fellow-beings wear, and am therefore as liable to err as any. My services have many limitations, but God has up to now blessed them in spite of the imperfections.

For confession of error is like a broom that sweeps away dirt and leaves the surface cleaner and brighter. I feel stronger for my confession. And the cause must prosper for the retracing. Never has a man reached his destination by persistence in deviation from the straight path. It has been urged that Chauri-Chaura cannot affect Bardoli. ... I have no doubt whatsoever on that account. The people of Bardoli are, in my opinion, the most peaceful in India. But Bardoli is but a speck on the map of India. Its effort cannot succeed unless there is perfect coöperation from the other parts.... Just as the addition of a grain of arsenic to a pot of milk renders it unfit as food so will the civility of Bardoli prove unacceptable by the addition of the deadly poison from Chauri-Chaura.... The latter represents India as much as Bardoli. Chauri-Chaura is, after all, an aggravated symptom. In civil disobedience there should be no excitement. Civil disobedience is a preparation for mute suffering. Its effect is marvelous, though unperceived and gentle.... The tragedy of Chauri-Chaura is really the index-finger. It shows the way India may easily go if drastic precautions be not taken. If we are not to evolve violence out of non-violence, it is quite clear that we must hastily retrace our steps and reestablish an atmosphere of peace, and not think of starting mass civil disobedience until we are sure of peace being retained in spite of mass civil disobedience being started and in spite of government provocation.... Let the opponent glory in our humiliation and so-called defeat. It is better to be charged with cowardice than to be guilty of denial of our oath and sin against God....

And the apostle wants to redeem the blood shed by others:

I must undergo personal cleansing. I must become a fitter instrument able to register the slightest variation in the moral atmosphere about me. My prayers must have deeper truth and humility. For me there is nothing so cleansing as a fast. A fast undertaken for fuller self-expression, for attainment of the spirit's supremacy over the flesh, is a most powerful factor in one's evolution....[115]

And he imposes on himself a continuous five days' fast. He does not want his co-workers to follow his example. He must punish himself. "I am in the unhappy position of a surgeon proved skill-less to deal with an admittedly dangerous case. I must either abdicate or acquire greater skill." His fast is penance and punishment for him and for the rioters of Chauri-Chaura who sinned with his name on their lips. Gandhi would like to suffer for them alone, but he advises them to hand themselves voluntarily to the Government and to make a clean confession, for they have injured the cause they meant to serve.

I would suffer humiliation, every torture, absolute ostracism, and death itself to prevent the movement from becoming violent or a precursor of violence.

The history of humanity's spiritual progress can point to few pages as noble as these. The moral value of such an action is incomparable, but as a political move it was disconcerting. Gandhi himself admits it might be called "politically unsound and unwise." It is dangerous to assemble all the forces of a nation and to hold the nation, panting, before a prescribed movement, to lift one's arm to give the final command, and then, at the last moment, let one's arm drop and thrice call a halt just as the formidable machinery has been set in motion. One risks ruining the brakes and paralyzing the impetus.

Therefore, when the congress committee held its session at Delhi, February 24, 1922, Gandhi met with great opposition. The resolutions of the working committee of Bardoli, approved on the eleventh, were not ratified without discussion. The non-coöperators split into two camps. Gandhi claimed that before civil disobedience could be launched the people must be better prepared, and he submitted a constructive program. But many members were irritated at the slow progress of the independence movement, and they protested against the suspension of civil disobedience. Gandhi's methods, they claimed, were stifling the nation's ardor. A vote of censure against the working committee was proposed, and it was suggested that its resolutions be annulled. In the end, however, Gandhi triumphed. But he suffered keenly, for he realized that the majority was not backing him sincerely; he knew that more than one of those who voted for him called him "dictator" behind his back. He knew that, at bottom, he no longer reflected the sentiment of the country. And with his undaunted sincerity he admits this, March 2, 1922:

There is so much undercurrent of violence, both conscious and unconscious, that I was actually and literally praying for a disastrous defeat. I have always been in a minority. In South Africa I started with practical unanimity, reached a minority of sixty-four and even sixteen, and went up again to a huge majority. The best and the most solid work was done in the wilderness of minority.... I know that the only thing that the Government dreads is this huge majority I seem to command. They little know that I dread it even more than they. I have become literally sick of the adoration of the unthinking multitude. I would feel certain of my ground if I was spat upon by them. A friend warned me against exploiting my "dictatorship." I have begun to wonder if I am not unconsciously allowing myself to be "exploited"! I confess that I have a dread of it as I never had before. My only safety lies in my shamelessness. I have warned my friends of the committee that I am incorrigible. I shall continue to confess blunders each time the people commit them. The only tyrant I accept in this world is the "still small voice" within. And even though I have to face the prospect of a minority of one, I humbly believe I have the courage to be in such a hopeless minority. That to me is the only truthful position. But I am a sadder and, I hope, a wiser man to-day. I see that our non-violence is skin-deep. We are burning with indignation. The Government is feeding it by its insensate acts. It seems almost as if the Government wants to see this land covered with murder, arson, and rapine in order to be able once more to claim exclusive ability to put them down.

This non-violence, therefore, seems to be due merely to our helplessness. It almost appears as if we are nursing in our bosoms the desire to take revenge the first time we get the opportunity. Can true voluntary non-violence come out of this seeming forced non-violence of the weak? Is it not a futile experiment I am conducting? What if, when the fury bursts, not a man, woman, or child is safe and every man's hand is raised against his fellow-being? Of what avail is it, then, if I fast myself to death in the event of such a catastrophe coming to pass? Let us be truthful. If it is by force that we wish to gain Swaraj, let us drop non-violence and offer such violence as we may. It would be a manly, honest, and sober attitude, and no one can then accuse us of the terrible charge of hypocrisy.[116] If, in spite of all my warnings... the majority did not believe in our goal, although they accepted it without a single material change, I would ask them to realize their responsibility. They are not bound to rush to civil disobedience, but to settle down to the quiet work of construction. If we do not take care, we are likely to be drowned in the waters whose depth we do not know....

Those who do not believe in the creed should surely retire from the congress.

And, turning to the minority, Gandhi adds:

The patriotic spirit demands loyal and strict adherence to non-violence and truth. Those who do not believe in them should retire from the congress organization.

There is bitter sadness, but a proud manliness, in these forceful words. It was the night in Gethsemane. Gandhi's arrest was imminent. Who knows whether, in his heart, he did not look upon imprisonment as a delivery?

§ 3

Gandhi had for a long time been expecting to be arrested. Ever since November 10, 1920, all his affairs had been in order and he himself prepared. He had dictated his instructions to the people in his article, "If I Am Arrested." He referred to this possibility again in an article dated March 9, 1922, when the rumor of his arrest again cropped up. He says he does not fear the Government. "Rivers of blood shed by the Government cannot frighten me." The only thing he fears is that the people may be carried away at the news of his arrest. This would be a disgrace to him. "I desire that the people should maintain perfect self-control and consider the day of my arrest a day of rejoicing. The Government believes that I am the soul of all this agitation and that if I am removed it will be left in peace. The only thing that remains is for it to measure the strength of the people. Let the people preserve perfect peace and calmness. It is a matter of no pride or pleasure to me, but of humiliation, that the Government refrain from arresting me for fear of an outbreak of universal violence." Let the people carry out the whole constructive program. Let there be no hartals or demonstrations, no cooperation with the Government. Let courts and schools be boycotted. Let, in short, the program of non-coöperation be pursued in absolute order and discipline. If the people can live up to this program, they will win. Otherwise they will face disaster.

When everything was in readiness, Gandhi went to his cherished retreat at the Ashram of Sarbarmati, near Ahmedabad, to await, in quiet meditation and surrounded by his beloved disciples, the coming of the constables. He longed for imprisonment. In his absence India would affirm her purpose with greater strength. And, as he says, imprisonment would give him "a quiet and physical rest," which he perhaps deserved.[117]

The constables arrived on the night of March 10. News had reached the Ashram of their coming. The Mahatma was ready, and placed himself at their disposal. On the way to prison he met Maulana Hasrat Mohani, a Mohammedan friend who had come from far to give him a last embrace. Banker, the editor of "Young India," was sent to jail along with the master. Gandhi's wife was allowed to accompany her husband as far as the prison gates.

At noon of Saturday, March 18, Gandhi's "Great Trial"[118] began before Mr. C. N. Broomsfield, district and session judge of Ahmedabad. It was a manifestation of rare nobility and high-mindedness. Judge and accused vied with each other in chivalrous courtesy. Never in the struggle did England rise to more magnanimous impartiality. Judge Broomsfield that day made up for many faults of the Government. Since much has been written about the trial, I will only summarize the main points.

Why had the Government at last arrested Gandhi? Why, after contemplating this move for more than two years, did it choose the very moment when the Mahatma had quelled the mob movement and when he seemed to stand as the only barrier against violence? Was it acting in aberration? Or did it wish to lend confirmation to Gandhi's terrible words: "It seems almost as if the Government wants to see this land covered with murder, arson, and rapine in order to be able to claim exclusive ability to put them down"? The Government was in a very difficult position. It respected and feared Gandhi. It would have liked to treat him gently. But Gandhi did not treat the Government gently. The Mahatma condemned violence, but his non-violence was more revolutionary than any violence. The very same day that he stopped civil disobedience for the mass, or rather the day before the session of the congress at Delhi, on February 23, he wrote one of the most menacing articles to Great Britain's power. An insolent telegram from Lord Birkenhead and Mr. Montagu had struck India as a blow.[119]

In a burst of indignation Gandhi took up the challenge:

How can there be any compromise whilst the British lion continues to shake his gory claws in our faces? The British Empire, which is based upon organized exploitation of physically weaker races and upon a continuous exhibition of brute force, cannot live if there is a just God ruling the universe.... It is high time that the British people were made to realize that the fight that was commenced in 1920 is a fight to the finish, whether it lasts one month or one year or many months or many years. I shall only hope and pray that God will give India sufficient humility and sufficient strength to remain non-violent to the end. Submission to the insolent challenges that are cabled is now an utter impossibility.

Gandhi was indicted on the statements contained in this article and in two other articles, the one dated September 19, 1921, and the other December 15, 1921. The first referred to the arrest of the Ali brothers, and the second was a reply to a speech of Lord Reading. Both of them contain the same declaration of "fight to the finish. We want Swaraj, we want the Government to yield to popular will. We ask for no quarter and expect none." The accusation, therefore, charged that Gandhi had "preached disaffection toward the Government and had openly instigated others to overthrow it." Gandhi spoke in his own defense. He pleaded guilty to all charges.

The advocate-general, Sir J. T. Strangman of Bombay, claimed that the three articles cited by the accusation were not isolated, but were part of a general campaign pursued for two years in view of overthrowing the Government, and he quoted passages from Gandhi's articles. He paid tribute to Gandhi's high character. But this only served to lend authority to the articles and to increase their harmful influence. He held Gandhi responsible for the bloodshed at Bombay and at Chauri-Chaura. It was true that Gandhi preached non-violence, but he also preached disaffection. He was therefore responsible for the violence committed by the people.

Gandhi asked permission to speak. The torment as to what was right and wrong, the anguish, the doubts, the mental and spiritual struggle of the last weeks as to which course he should pursue and the effect it would have on the people, had been cleared away. He had recovered the serenity of his soul. He accepted everything that had taken place and everything that was to take place as a necessity which he might regret, but which he would have to bear. He agreed with the advocate-general. Yes, he was responsible. He was responsible for everything. He had preached disaffection for a much longer time than the accusation had stated. He assumed responsibility for the troubles at Madras, for the "diabolical crimes" of Chauri-Chaura, and the "mad outrages" of Bombay.

The learned advocate-general is quite right when he says that as a man of responsibility, a man having received a fair share of education, having had a fair share of experience of this world, I should have known the consequences of every one of my acts. I knew that I was playing with fire, I ran the risk, and if I was set free, I would still do the same. I felt this morning that I would have failed in my duty if I did not say what I say here just now.

I wanted to avoid violence, I want to avoid violence. Non-violence is the first article of my faith. It is also the last article of my creed. But I had to make my choice. I had either to submit to a system which I considered had done an irreparable harm to my country or incur the risk of the mad fury of my people bursting forth when they understood the truth from my lips. I know that my people have sometimes gone mad. I am deeply sorry for it and I am therefore here to submit not to a light penalty, but to the highest penalty. I do not ask for mercy. I do not plead any extenuating act. I am here, therefore, to invite and cheerfully submit to the highest penalty that can be inflicted upon me for what in law is a deliberate crime and what appears to me to be the highest duty of a citizen. The only course open to you, Judge, is either to resign your post or inflict on me the severest penalty.

After this powerful improvisation, where the scruples of a religious spirit are balanced by the heroic firmness of a political leader, Gandhi read a written declaration addressed to the public in India and England. He owed it to them, he said, to explain why, "from a stanch loyalist and coöperator," he had become an uncompromising disaffectionist and non-coöperator. He dwelt on his public life from 1893 on. He pointed out all he had to suffer, as an Indian, from the British system, and he told of his ceaseless attempts for twenty-five years to reform it. He believed obstinately that this could be accomplished without separating India and England. In spite of all deceptions, he remained a stanch coöperator till 1919. But since then outrages and crimes have surpassed all measure. And instead of making up for injustices, the Government, as if in defiance to the spirit of India, has honored, pensioned, and rewarded its guilty servants. The Government itself has severed all ties. Gandhi has come to the conclusion that even if the desired reforms were now proposed by the Government, they would be harmful. The Government in British India is based on the exploitation of the masses. Laws are made in view of strengthening this exploitation. The administration of the law is prostituted consciously or unconsciously for the benefit of the exploiter. A subtle, but effective, system of terrorization and an organized display of force have emasculated the people and "induced in them the habit of simulation." India is starving, ruined, degraded; and many claim that before India becomes capable of self-government on the dominion plan generations will have to pass. England has done more harm to India than any previous system. Non-coöperation with evil is a duty. Gandhi' has done his duty. But whereas in the past non-coöperation has been deliberately expressed in the form of violence inflicted on the evildoer, violence having been the supreme weapon, Gandhi has given his people the new, but indomitable, arm of non-violence.

And then came the chivalrous match between Judge Broomsfield and the Mahatma.

Mr. Gandhi, you have made my task easy in one way by pleading guilty to the charges; nevertheless what remains, namely the determination of a just sentence, is perhaps as difficult a proposition as a judge in this country could have to face.... It would be impossible to ignore the fact that in the eyes of millions of your countrymen you are a great patriot and a great leader. Even those who differ from you in politics look upon you as a man of high ideals and of noble and even saintly life.... But it is my duty to judge you as a man subject to the law.... There are probably few people in India who do not sincerely regret that you should have made it impossible for any Government to leave you at liberty. But it is so. I am trying to balance what is due to you against what appears to me to be necessary in the interest of the public.

With great courtesy he consulted the accused as to the sentence which should be imposed. "You will not consider it unreasonable, I think, to be classed with Mr. Tilak," sentenced twelve years previously to six years. "If the course of events in India should make it possible for the Government to reduce the period and release you, no one will be better pleased than I."

Gandhi did not allow the judge to outdo him in courtesy. He claimed it was his proudest privilege and honor to have his name associated with that of Tilak. So far as the sentence itself was concerned, he considered it as light as any judge could impose on him, and as far as the whole proceedings were concerned, he said that he could not have expected greater courtesy.[120]

The trial was over. Gandhi's friends fell at his feet, sobbing. The Mahatma took leave of them, smiling. And the door of the jail of Sarbamati closed behind him.[121]

§ 4

Ever since the great apostle's voice has been silent. His body is walled in as in a tomb. But never did a tomb act as a barrier to thought, and Gandhi's invisible soul still animates India's vast body. "Peace, non-violence, suffering,"[122] is the only message that has come from the prison. The message has been heard. From one end of the country to the other the watchword has been passed. Three years earlier India would have been swept by bloodshed at Gandhi's arrest. The mere report of its having taken place caused riots among the population in 1920. But the sentence of Ahmedabad was received with religious solemnity. Thousands of Indians with serene joyfulness handed themselves over to prison guards. Non-violence and suffering—one example more amazing than the others—may serve to show to what depths the divine words have penetrated into the spirit of the nation.

As is well known, the Sikhs have always been looked upon as one of the most warlike races in India. Large numbers of them served in the army during the war. Last year grave dissensions arose among them. To our Western eyes the cause seems insignificant. As the result of a religious effervescence, one of the Sikh sects, the Akalis, wished to purify the sanctuaries. The latter had fallen into the hands of guardians of ill repute who refused to be put out. For legal reasons the Government took their defense. And in August, 1922, began the daily martyrdom of Guru-Ka-Bagh.[123] The Akalis adopted the doctrine of non-resistance. A thousand of them settled near the sanctuary, while four thousand took up abode in the Golden Temple at Amritsar, ten miles away. Every day one hundred from among the four thousand, most of them men of military age, many of whom served in the war, left the Golden Temple, after taking the vow of remaining true to the principles of non-violence in thought as well as action, and of reaching Guru-Ka-Bagh or being brought back unconscious. Among the group of the thousand volunteers twenty-five made the same vow every day. Not far from the sanctuary the British constables waited at the bridge with iron-tipped rods to stop the manifestation. And every day a gruesome scene took place. Andrews, Tagore's friend, describes it unforgettably in his "Akali Struggle."[124] With a wreath of small white flowers around their black turbans, the Akalis arrived silently before the constables, and at a distance of about a yard they stopped and began to pray, silently, motionlessly. The constables, in order to drive them away, prodded them with the iron-tipped rods, jabbing harder and harder till blood began to flow and the Sikhs fell unconscious. Those who could get to their feet would begin to pray again, until they were beaten into unconsciousness like the others. Andrews did not hear a single cry, nor did he see a defiant glance. Near-by, a crowd of spectators, their faces tense with anguish, prayed silently. "I could not help thinking," Andrews says, "of the shadow of the cross." The English described the scene in their papers and expressed amazement.[125] It seemed incomprehensible to the British, although they had to admit that the absurd sacrifice proved that the idea of non-coöperation and non-violence was gaining ground and that the people of the Punjab had been won over to the doctrine. Andrews, whose generous spirit and pure idealism enabled him to penetrate the soul of India, says that here he saw, like Goethe at Valmy, "the dawn of a new era. A new heroism, steeled by suffering, has risen, a war of the spirit."

It would seem as if the people of India have lived up to Mahatma's spirit more faithfully than those whose mission it was to guide them. I have already spoken of the opposition to Gandhi at the session of the congress committee at Delhi twenty days before the master was arrested. This opposition still manifested itself when the committee met again, at Lucknow, June 7, 1922. The program of patient waiting and silent reconstruction advocated by Gandhi was bitterly criticized, and a motion was made to proclaim civil disobedience. A commission was appointed to inquire into conditions and determine whether the country might be called ripe for civil disobedience. The commission traveled all over India, and in the autumn sent in a discouraging report. Not only was civil disobedience called impractical for the present, but half the members went to such extremes of conservatism as to suggest that Gandhi's methods of non-coöperation be abandoned and a new Swaraj or home rule party be formed within the government councils. Gandhi's doctrine was, in other words, attacked by those who believed in violence, as well as by those who believed in prudence.

India, however, did not accept the commission's report. In its annual meeting at the end of December, 1922, the National Indian Congress energetically proclaimed its allegiance to the persecuted master and his doctrine of non-coöperation. By 1740 votes to 890 it rejected all participation in government councils. As for those who believed in violence, they were few and far between and had little influence. The session closed with a unanimous resolution urging that the political strike ordered by Gandhi be kept up. A resolution boycotting English materials, however, was turned down, in order not to antagonize European workmen. But the Mussulman conference of the Khilafat, as usual more audacious than the congress, voted for the boycott by a large majority.

Here we must stop the record of the Gandhist movement. Despite a few inevitable backslides due to the absence of the master and his best disciples, imprisoned like himself (especially the Ali brothers), the movement has successfully passed through the trials of the first unguided year. And the English press, at the close of the session of the congress of 1922 at Gaya, expresses surprise and disappointment at the progress of the movement.[126]

§ 5

And what will now come? Will England, wiser for past experiences, know how to mold the aspirations of the people of India? And will this people remain true to its ideal? Nations have short memories, and I should have but slight faith in India's power to remain true to the Mahatma's teaching if his doctrines were not an expression of the deepest and most ancient longings of the race. For if there is such a thing as genius, great by its own strength whether or not it corresponds to the ideals of its surroundings, there can be no genius of action, no leader, who does not incarnate the instincts of his race, satisfy the need of the hour, and requite the yearning of the world.

Mahatma Gandhi does all this. His principle of Ahimsa (non-violence) has been inscribed in the spirit of India for more than two thousand years. Mahavira, Buddha, and the cult of Vishnu have made it the substance of millions of souls. Gandhi has merely transfused heroic blood into it. He called upon the great shadows, the forces of the past, plunged in mortal lethargy, and at the sound of his voice they came to life. In him they found themselves. Gandhi is more than a word; he is an example. He incarnates the spirit of his people. Blessed the man who is a people, his people, entombed, and then resuscitated in him! But such resurrections are never haphazard. If the spirit of India now surges forth from temples and forests, it is because it holds the message for which the world is sighing.

This message carries far beyond the boundaries of India. India alone could formulate it, but it consecrates the nation's greatness as much as its sacrifice. It may become its cross.

For it would seem as if a people must he sacrificed in order to give new life to the world. The Jews were sacrificed to their Messiah, whom they had borne for centuries in their thoughts, and whom they did not recognize when He finally flowered on the blood-stained cross. More fortunate, India has recognized her Messiah, and joyously the people march to the sacrifice which is to set them free.

But, like the early Christians, they do not all understand the real meaning of their liberation. For a long time the Christians awaited the fulfilment of the adveniat regnum tuum. In India there are many who do not see beyond Swaraj, home rule. Incidentally, I imagine that this political goal will soon be reached. Europe, bled by wars and revolutions, impoverished and exhausted, despoiled of her prestige in the eyes of Asia, which she formerly oppressed, cannot long resist on Asiatic soil the aspirations of the awakened peoples of Islam, India, China, and Japan. But this would mean little, no matter how rich and new might be the harmonies which a few more nations would bring to the human symphony; this would mean little, if the surging spirit of Asia did not become the vehicle for a new ideal of life and of death, and, what is more, of action, for all humanity, and if it did not bring a new viaticum to prostrate Europe.

The world is swept by the wind of violence. This storm which ravages the harvest of our civilization did not break out from a clear sky. Centuries of brutal national pride, whetted by the idolatrous ideology of the Revolution, spread by the empty mockery of democracies, and crowned by a century of inhuman industrialism, rapacious plutocracy, and a materialistic system of economics where the soul perishes, stifled to death, were bound to culminate in these dark struggles where the treasures of the West succumbed. It is not enough to say all this was inevitable. There is a in it. Each people kills the other in the name of the same principles which hid the same covetousness and Cainish instincts. All—be they nationalists, Fascists, Bolshevists, members of the oppressed classes, members of the oppressing classes—claim that they have the right to use force, while refusing this right to others. Half a century ago might dominated right. To-day things are far worse. Might is right. Might has devoured right.

In the old crumbling world, no refuge, no hope, no great light. The church gives innocuous advice, virtuous and dosed, carefully worded so as not to antagonize the mighty. Besides, the church never sets the example—even when giving advice. Weak pacifists bray languishingly, and you feel that they hesitate and fumble, talk about a faith they no longer believe in. Who will prove this faith? And how, in an unbelieving world? Faith is proved by action.

This is the great message to the world, or, as Gandhi puts it, India's message—self-sacrifice.

And Tagore has repeated the same inspired words, for on this proud principle Tagore and Gandhi agree.

I hope this spirit of sacrifice will grow, and also the will to suffer.... This is real liberty. Nothing is higher, not even national independence. The West has an unshakable belief in force and material wealth; therefore no matter how much it cries for peace and disarmament, its ferocity will cry still louder.... We, in India, must show the world what this truth is which not only makes disarmament possible but transmutes it into strength. The fact that moral force is a stronger power than brute force will be proved by an unarmed people. The evolution of life shows that it has gradually cast off its formidable armature of scales and carapaces and a monstrous quantity of flesh until man was evolved who conquered brute force. The day will come when a weak, noble man absolutely unarmed will prove that the meek shall inherit the earth. It is logical that Mahatma Gandhi, weak of body and without material resources, should prove the unconquerable strength of the meek and the humble hidden in the heart of the outraged and destitute humanity of India. India's destiny is bound up in Narayana and not in Narayani-sena, in soul force and not muscle. It must uplift human history, transport it from the confused valley of material struggles to the high plateaux of spiritual battles. Although we may delude ourselves through phrases acquired from the vocabulary of the West, Swaraj, home rule, is not really our goal. Our battle is a spiritual battle, a fight for humanity. We must emancipate man from the meshes he has woven around him, free him from the organizations of national selfishness. We must persuade the butterfly that the freedom of the sky is better than the shelter of the cocoon. In India we have no word for "nation." When we loan the word from other peoples it is not suited to us, for we should ally ourselves with Narayana, the Supreme Being, and our victory will be the victory for God's world.... If we can defy the powerful, the rich, the armed, by showing the world the power of the immortal spirit, the castle of the giant Flesh will crumble into nothingness. And then man will find real Swaraj. We, the miserable outcasts of the Orient, we must conquer freedom for all humanity....

"Our object," Gandhi has said, "is friendship with the whole world. Non-violence has come to men, and it will remain. It is the annunciation of peace on earth."

The peace of the world is far off. We have no illusions. We have seen, abundantly, during the course of half a century, the hypocrisy, the cowardice, and the cruelty of mankind. But this does not prevent us from loving mankind. For even among the worst there is a nescio quid Dei. We know the material ties that weigh on twentieth-century Europe, the crushing determinism of economic conditions which hem it in; we know that centuries of passions and systematized error have built a crust about our souls which the light cannot pierce. But we also know what miracles the spirit can work.

Historians, we have seen its glory brighten skies even darker than our own. We, who live but a day, have caught in India the sound of the tambour of Çiva, "the Master Dancer who veils his devouring eye and guards his steps to save the world from plunging into the abyss."[127]

The Realpolitiker of violence, whether revolutionary or reactionary, ridicule our faith, and reveal thereby their ignorance of deep reality. Let them jeer! I have this faith. I know it is scorned and persecuted in Europe, and that in my own land we are but a handful—are we even a handful?—who believe in it. And even if I were the only one to believe in it, what would it matter? The true characteristic of faith is not to deny the hostility of the world, but to recognize it and to believe in spite of it! Faith is a battle. And our non-violence is the most desperate battle. The way to peace is not through weakness. We do not fight violence so much as weakness. Nothing is worth while unless it is strong, neither good nor evil. Absolute evil is better than emasculated goodness. Moaning pacifism is the death-knell of peace; it is cowardice and lack of faith. Let those who do not believe, who fear, withdraw! The way to peace leads through self-sacrifice.

This is Gandhi's message. The only thing lacking is the cross.[128] Every one knows that had it not been for the Jews, Rome would not have given it to Christ. The British Empire is no better than ancient Rome. The impetus has been given. The soul of Oriental peoples has been moved in its deepest fibers, and its vibrations are felt the whole world over.

The great religious apparitions of the Orient are ruled by a rhythm. One thing is certain: either Gandhi's spirit will triumph, or it will manifest itself again, as were manifested, centuries before, the Messiah and Buddha, till there finally is manifested, in a mortal half-god, the perfect incarnation of the principle of life which will lead a new humanity on to a new path.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ANDREWS, C. F., "To the Students," 1921, S. Ganesan, Madras.

DOKE, JOSEPH J., "M. K. Gandhi, an Indian Patriot in South Africa," with an introduction by Lord Ampthill, 1909, Indian Chronicle, London.

GANDHI, MAHATMA, "A Guide to Health," 1921, S. Ganesan, Madras.

GANDHI, MAHATMA, "Hind Swaraj" (Indian Home Rule), 1921, S. Ganesan, Madras.

GANDHI, MAHATMA, "Neethi Dharma" (Ethical Religion), with an introduction by J. H. Holmes, S. Ganesan, Madras.

GANDHI, MAHATMA, "Speeches and Writings" (1896-1922), with an introduction by C. F. Andrews and a biographical sketch, 1922, Natesan, Madras.

GANDHI, MAHATMA, "Young India" (1919-22), with an introduction by Babu Rajendra Prasad, 1922, S. Ganesan, Madras. A collection of articles written by Gandhi for his paper, "Young India."