§ 7
But the nucleus of modern civilization, its heart, so to speak, is machinery. Age of iron! Heart of iron! The machine has become a monstrous idol. It must be done away with. Gandhi’s most ardent desire is to see machinery wiped out of India. To a free India, heir to British machinery, he would prefer an India dependent on the British market. It would be better to buy materials manufactured in Manchester than to set up Manchester factories in India. An Indian Rockefeller would be no better than a European capitalist. Machinery is the great sin which enslaves nations, and money is a poison as much as sexual vice.
Indian progressives, however, imbued with modern ideas, ask what would become of India if she were to have no railroads, tramways, or industries? To this Gandhi asks if India did not exist before they were invented? For thousands of years India has resisted, alone, unshaken, the changing flood of empires. Everything else has passed. But thousands of years ago India learned the art of self-control and mastered the science of happiness. She has nothing to learn from other nations. She does not need the machinery of large cities. Her ancient prosperity was founded on the plow and the spinning-wheel, and on a knowledge of Hindu philosophy. India must go back to the sources of her ancient culture. Not all at once, of course, but gradually. And every one must help in the evolution.44
This is Gandhi’s fundamental argument. It is a very important one, and demands discussion. For it stands for a denial of progress and, virtually, of Europe’s scientific achievement.45 This medieval conception is apt, therefore, to clash with the volcanic forward march of the human mind and incurs the risk of being blown to bits. But, first of all, it would perhaps be wiser to say, the “forward march of a certain phase of the human mind,” for if one may believe, as I believe, in the symphonic unity of the universal spirit, one must realize that it is made up of many different voices, each one singing its own part. Our youthful Occident carried away by its own score, does not realize sufficiently that it has not always led the song, nor that its own law of progress is subject to eclipses, backslidings, and recommencements; that the history of human civilization is really a history of human civilizations, and that while within the domain of each civilization a certain progress may be discernible, a progress irregular, chaotic, broken, and at times completely halted, it would be wrong to say that the predominance of one great civilization over another necessarily implies general human progress.
But without entering into a discussion as to the European dogma of progress and merely bearing in mind that this dogma, such as it is, conflicts with Gandhi’s faith, we must realize that no conflict will weaken Gandhi’s faith. To believe anything else would be to show a total ignorance of the workings of the Oriental mind. As Gobineau says: “Asiatics are much more obstinate than we, in every way. They will wait centuries, if necessary, for the fulfilment of their ideal, and when it rises triumphant after such a long slumber it does not seem to have aged or lost any of its vitality.” Centuries mean nothing to a Hindu. Gandhi is prepared for the triumph of his cause within the year. But he is equally prepared for it within the course of several centuries. He does not force time. And if time makes haste slowly, he regulates his gait by its march.
If, therefore, in the course of his campaign Gandhi finds India insufficiently prepared to understand and practise the radical reforms he wishes to impose, he will adapt his doctrine to conditions. He will bide his time. That is why it is not astonishing to hear the irreconcilable enemy of machinery declare, in 1921:
I would not weep over the disappearance of machinery or consider this a calamity. But for the time being I have no designs on machinery as such.46
Or:
The law of complete Love is the Law of my being. But I am not preaching this final law through the political measures I advocate. I know that any such attempt is foredoomed to failure. To expect a whole mass of men and women to obey that law all at once is not to know its working.47 I am not a visionary. I claim to be a practical idealist.48
Gandhi never asks men for more than they can give. But he asks for all that they can give. And this is much in a nation like India—a formidable nation, through its numerical power, its force of duration, and its abysmal soul. From the very first Gandhi and India have formed a pact; they understand each other without words. Gandhi knows what he can demand of India, and India is prepared to give whatever Gandhi may demand.
Between Gandhi and India there reigns, first of all, absolute agreement as to goal: Swaraj, home rule, for the nation.49
“I know,” he says, “that Swaraj is the object of the nation and not non-violence.”
And he adds—words amazing on his lips, “I would rather see India freed by violence than enchained like a slave to her foreign oppressors.”
But, he continues, correcting himself at once, this is an impossible supposition, for violence can never free India. Swaraj can only be attained by soul-force. This is India’s real weapon, the invincible weapon of love and truth. Gandhi expresses it by the term Satyagraha, which he defines as truth-force and love-force.50 Gandhi’s genius revealed itself when, by the preaching of this gospel, he revealed to his people their real nature and their hidden strength.
Gandhi used the word Satyagraha in South Africa to explain the difference between his ideal and that of passive resistance. Particular stress must be laid on the difference between these two movements. Nothing is more false than to call Gandhi’s campaign a movement of passive resistance. No one has a greater horror of passivity than this tireless fighter, who is one of the most heroic incarnations of a man who resists. The soul of his movement is active resistance—resistance which finds outlet, not in violence, but in the active force of love, faith and sacrifice. This threefold energy is expressed in the word Satyagraha.
Let not the coward try to hide his cowardice under Gandhi’s banner! Gandhi drives him out of the community. Better violence than cowardice!
Where there is only a choice between cowardice and violence I advise violence....51 I cultivate the quiet courage of dying without killing. But to him who has not this courage I advise that of killing and of being killed, rather than that of shamefully fleeing from danger. For he who runs away commits mental violence; he runs away because he has not the courage to be killed while he kills.52
I would risk violence a thousand times rather than emasculation of the race.53 I would rather have India resort to arms to defend her honor than that she should in a cowardly manner become or remain a helpless victim to her own dishonor.54
But I believe that non-violence is infinitely superior to violence, forgiveness more manly than punishment. Forgiveness adorns a soldier. Abstinence is forgiveness only when there is power to punish; it is meaningless when it pretends to proceed from a helpless creature.... I do not believe India to be helpless. One hundred thousand Englishmen need not frighten three hundred million human beings.
Besides.
Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will. Non-violence does not mean meek submission to the will of the evil-doer but the putting of one’s whole soul against the will of the tyrant. Working under this law of our being it is possible for a single individual to defy the whole might of an unjust empire and lay the foundation for that empire’s fall or its regeneration.
But at the cost of what? Of suffering—the great law.
Suffering is the mark of the human tribe. It is an eternal law.55 The mother suffers so that her child may live. Life comes out of death. The condition of wheat growing is that the seed grain should perish. No country has ever risen without being purified through the fire of suffering.... It is impossible to do away with the law of suffering which is the one indispensable condition of our being. Progress is to be measured by the amount of suffering undergone... the purer the suffering, the greater is the progress.56
Non-violence in its dynamic condition means conscious suffering.... I have ventured to place before India the ancient law of self-sacrifice, the law of suffering. The Rishis who discovered the law of non-violence in the midst of violence were greater geniuses than Newton, greater warriors than Wellington. Having themselves known the use of arms they realized their uselessness and taught a weary world that salvation lay not through violence but through non-violence.... The religion of non-violence is not meant merely for the Rishis and saints. It is meant for the common people as well. Non-violence is the law of our species as violence is the law of the brute. The dignity of man requires obedience to a higher law—to the strength of the spirit.... I want India to practise non-violence being conscious of her strength and power. I want India to recognize that she has a soul that cannot perish and that can rise triumphant above every physical weakness and defy the physical combination of a whole world.57
Exalted pride, his proud love of India, demands she should scorn violence as unworthy and be ready to sacrifice herself. Non-violence is her title of nobility. If she abandons it she falls. Gandhi cannot bear the thought.
If India made violence her creed I would not care to live in India. She would cease to evoke any pride in me. My patriotism is subservient to my religion. I cling to India like a child to its mother’s breast because I feel that she gives me the spiritual nourishment I need. If she were to fail me, I would feel like an orphan, without hope of ever finding a guardian. Then the snow altitudes of the Himalayas must give what rest they can to my bleeding soul....58