4. THE CALM AFTER THE STORM
I had not yet left the
police station, when after two days I was taken to see Mr. Escombe.
Two constables were sent to protect me, though no such precaution was then
On the day of landing, as soon
as the yellow flag was lowered, a representative of The Natal Advertiser
had come to interview me. He had asked me a number of questions, and in
reply I had been able to refute every one of the charges that had been
levelled against me. Thanks to Sir Pherozeshah Mehta, I had delivered only
written speeches in India, and I had copies of them all, as well as of
my other writings. I had given the interviewer all this literature and
showed him that in India I had said nothing which I had not already said
in South African in stronger language. I had also shown him that I had
had no hand in bringing the passengers of the Courland and Naderi
to South Africa. Many of them were old residents, and most of them, far
from wanting to stay in Natal, meant to go to the Transvaal. In those days
the Transvaal offered better prospects than Natal to those coming in search
of wealth, and most Indians, therefore, preferred to go there.
This interview and my refusal
to prosecute the assailants produced such a profound impression that the
Europeans of Durban were ashamed of their conduct. The press declared me
to be innocent and condemned the mob. Thus the lynching ultimately proved
to be a blessing for me, that is, for the cause. It enhanced the prestige
of the Indian community in South Africa and made my work easier.
In three or four days I went
to my house, and it was not long before I settled down again. The incident
added also to my professional practice.
But if it enhanced the prestige
of the community, it also fanned the flame of prejudice against it. As
soon as it was proved that the Indian could put up a manly fight, he came
to be regarded as a danger. Two bills were introduced in the Natal Legislative
Assembly, one of them calculated to affect the Indian trader adversely,
and the other to impose a stringent restriction on Indian immigration.
Fortunately the fight for the franchise had resulted in a decision to the
effect that no enactment might be passed against the Indians as such, that
is to say, that the law should make no distinctions of colour or race.
The language of the bills above mentioned made them applicable to all,
but their object undoubtedly was to impose further restrictions on the
Indian residents of Natal.
The bills considerably increased
my public work and made the community more alive than ever to their sense
of duty. They were translated into Indian languages and fully explained,
so as to bring home to the community their subtle implications. We appealed
to the Colonial Secretary, but he refused to interfere and the bills became
Public work now began to absorb
most of my time. Sjt. Mansukhlal Naazar, who, as I have said, was already
in Durban, came to stay with me, and as he gave his time to public work,
he lightened my burden to some extent.
Sheth Adamji Miyakhan had, in
my absence, discharged his duty with great credit. He had increased the
membership and added about £1,000 to the coffers of the Natal Indian
Congress. The awakening caused by the bills and the demonstration against
the passengers I turned to good acccount by making an appeal for membership
and funds, which now amounted to £5,000. My desire was to secure
for the Congress a permanent fund, so that it might procure property of
its own and then carry on its work out of the rent of the property. This
was my first experience of managing a public institution. I placed my proposal
before my co-workers, and they welcomed it. The property that was purchased
was leased out, and the rent was enough to meet the current expenses of
the Congress. The property was vested in a strong body of trustees and
is still there today, but it has become the source of much internecine
quarrelling, with the result that the rent of the property now accumulates
in the court.
This sad situation developed
after my departure from South Africa, but my idea of having permanent funds
for public institutions underwent a change long before this difference
arose. And now after considerable experience with the many public institutions
which I have managed, it has become my firm conviction that it is not good
to run public institutions on permanent funds. A permanent fund carries
in itself the seed of the moral fall of the institution. A public institution
means an institution conducted with the approval, and from the funds, of
the public. When such an institution ceases to have public support, it
forfeits its right to exist. Institutions maintained on permanent funds
are often found to ignore public opinion, and are frequently responsible
for acts contrary to it. In our country we experience this at every step.
Some of the so-called religious trusts have ceased to render any accounts.
The trustees have become the owners, and are responsible to none. I have
no doubt that the ideal is for public institutions to live, like nature,
from day to day. The institution that fails to win public support has no
right to exist as such. The subscriptions that an institution annually
receives are a test of its popularity and the honesty of its management,
and I am of opinion that every institution should submit to that test.
But let no one misunderstand me. My remarks do not apply to the bodies
which cannot, by their very nature, be conducted without permanent buildings.
What I mean to say it that the current expenditure should be found from
subscriptions voluntarily received from year to year.
These views were confirmed during
the days of the Satyagraha in South Africa. That magnificent campaign,
extending over six years, was carried on without permanent funds, though
lakhs of rupees were necessary for it. I can recollect times when I did
not know what would happen the next day if no subscriptions came in. But
I shall not anticipate future events. The reader will find the opinion
expressed above amply borne out in the coming narrative.