Gandhi

by Ramachandra Guha

  It is not clear whether the printed report reached Gandhi in the Aga Khan Palace. But the excerpts reproduced in the newspapers certainly did. These charges angered Gandhi, and he wrote directly to the viceroy to refute them. Gandhi reminded Linlithgow that he had always stood out against violence. ‘Was not,’ he asked, ‘the drastic and unwarranted action of the Government responsible for the reported violence?’ He also insisted that the Congress was ‘definitely against Fascism in every shape and form’.

  Hurt and angered by what he considered false and malicious allegations, Gandhi told the viceroy that he planned a twenty-one-day fast, beginning on 9 February 1943.35

  The viceroy, in reply, stood by his claim that the Congress and Gandhi personally were responsible ‘for the lamentable disorders of last autumn’. As for what Gandhi planned to do by way of protest, Linlithgow cleverly used his adversary’s language against him, saying that ‘I regard the use of a fast for political purposes as a form of political blackmail (himsa) for which there can be no moral justification…’36

  There was one doctor with Gandhi in prison—his disciple Sushila Nayar. Sushila was concerned about Gandhi’s health, and asked the government to allow three experienced medical men—B.C. Roy, Jivraj Mehta and M.D. Gilder, to be present at the Aga Khan Palace during the fast. Her suggestion was endorsed by the inspector general of prisons, who was ‘worried about Mr. Gandhi bearing in mind the sudden collapse of Mahadeo Desai’. He regarded it as ‘of very great importance to have a really good medical adviser on the spot’.

  One of the men asked for, Jivraj Mehta, was a prominent Congressman, currently imprisoned in Yerwada. The government did not want him near Gandhi. However, B.C. Roy was given permission to come from Calcutta, and M.D. Gilder to come from Bombay. The knowledge that these respected doctors would attend on Gandhi would, the Bombay government hoped, ‘have a calming effect on public opinion outside’.37

  VII

  Gandhi had originally planned to begin his fast on 9 February. In the event, it started a day later, on the 10th. On the first day of the fast, the Valmiki Ramayana was read out to Gandhi. On the second day, he read some religious literature himself. By the third day, he was experiencing bouts of nausea. On the fifth day, ‘he seem[ed] very weak and exhausted…and did not want the usual Gita recitation’.38

  Some Indian members of the viceroy’s executive council pressed for the release of Gandhi. Linlithgow was unmoved. On 17 February, as the fast entered its second week, M.S. Aney, H.P. Mody and N.R. Sarkar resigned from the executive council in protest.39

  The government would not release Gandhi, but it did now permit him visitors. His old, albeit recently estranged, comrade C. Rajagopalachari came from Madras to see him. His sons Ramdas and Devadas came from Delhi and Nagpur respectively. Saraladevi Chaudhurani got permission to see him too, arriving by train from Lahore.

  Of these visitors, one of the few to leave a (brief) record was the editor of the Bombay Chronicle, S.A. Brelvi. He found Gandhi ‘passing through unprecedented mental agony’. It ‘distressed him beyond words’ that the government had falsely charged him, one who had dedicated his whole life to non-violence, with inciting violence. It ‘hurt him deeply’ that the government had given him no opportunity to refute the grave charges against him.40

  Those who could not personally visit Gandhi sent messages. Hundreds of telegrams were sent to him during the fast, these not forwarded to him at the time. Some were messages of support, others prayers for the fast’s success, yet others were pleas to him to abandon it. These messages came from, among others, the Indian Merchants Association of Gibraltar, the Transvaal Indians, the Agra University Students Union, the medical students of Chittagong, the cigar workers of Trichnopoly, the Indian Tea Planters Association of Jalpaiguri, the Bombay Musical Instruments Merchants Association, and the District Harijan Association of Bijapur. The odd wire expressed dissent; one, from the ‘Frontier Muslims’ of Kohat, read: ‘Disapprove practice of fasting as instrument to achieve political ends.’

  There were many messages from individuals as well, some formulaic, others more idiosyncratic. A Larry Page of Tasmania wired: ‘Play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata using Indian instruments daily.’ A naturopath from Mysore named Sharma advised Gandhi to ‘pray use pure water instead citric acid light enema alternate day’.41

  VIII

  At Gandhi’s bedside, his disciple and doctor, Sushila Nayar, was maintaining a diary, which minutely recorded, hour by hour and sometimes minute by minute, his sleep, his mood, his pains, his bowel and kidney motions, his baths and massages, his pulse rate, his blood samples and what they revealed, and the coming and going of visitors.

  The entry for 19 February began: ‘Yesterday (8th day) Gandhiji had a bad day. Severe headache persisted throughout the day. He felt as if the head “would burst”. There was disinclination to talk, answer questions or to see or hear anything.’

  The next morning, Sushila Nayar noted in her diary that ‘yesterday Gandhiji was a little more interested in his surroundings till midday, but after that headache, earache and restlessness returned. He did not like to be disturbed for anything and lay listless with closed eyes. The voice sank to a whisper. He can not now turn in bed by himself and does not like the bed to be tilted up for drinking water.’

  On the 21st morning Dr Nayar wrote: ‘Yesterday (11th day), G had a bad day. Exhaustion was pronounced, headache, general uneasiness and salivation persisted. Most of the time he lay apathetic in bed and at times appeared drowsy. He finds it difficult to turn in bed or to stretch his legs by himself.’42

  The fast was now halfway through its course. Visiting him on the 20th, the surgeon general of the Bombay Presidency thought ‘a fatal result was at hand’.43 The Bombay government had sent a message to Delhi that Gandhi’s condition was serious. This prompted some discussion on what the government might do if Gandhi died as a consequence of his fast. Should, asked one senior official in the home department, they close government offices for a brief period ‘as a mark of respect for an individual who is held in such universal respect, in spite of the fact that he is our political opponent and also, in his own words, an open rebel’?

  The viceroy did not think it should. Writing to the governors of the provinces on 18 February, Linlithgow said that considering ‘Gandhi’s position as our prisoner and a declared rebel, there can be no question of half-masting flags or sending official messages of condolence to his widow’. He thought that, if Gandhi did die in prison, ‘any message on the part of Government must contain no unction, no excuse for or explanation of Government’s part in Gandhi’s end; no word of recrimination against the man himself, while on the other hand any eulogy would equally jar. My own view therefore favours something to the effect that “The Government of India regret to announce that Mr. Gandhi died while in detention at Poona at…on…from collapse/heart failure following a self-imposed fast”.’44

  While some British officials, with their ear close to the ground and their long Indian experience, knew how widely Gandhi was admired and even venerated, the dour Linlithgow only saw him as ‘a declared rebel’.

  The news of Gandhi’s deteriorating health reached and alarmed the Indian politicians outside prison. On 21 February, a meeting of prominent public figures was held in Delhi, cutting across party lines (the Muslim League only excluded). The gathering appealed to the viceroy to release Gandhi, whose life was in danger because of his fast. They said: ‘We firmly believe that if the Mahatma’s life is spared a way will be opened to the promotion of peace and goodwill as surely his death as a British prisoner will intensify public embitterment.’ They added that ‘wise and liberal statesmanship will solve the Indo-British problem more speedily and effectively than stern repression’. This resolution was wired to the British prime minister, Winston Churchill. He sent back a terse reply, saying that Gandhi and other Congress leaders had been jailed ‘for reasons which have been fully explained an
d well understood’. The responsibility for the situation, said Churchill, ‘rests entirely with Mr. Gandhi himself’. Churchill added that ‘the first duty of the Government of India and of His Majesty’s Government is to defend the soil of India from invasion by which it is still menaced, and to enable India to play her part in the general cause of the United Nations’.45

  IX

  In the prison palace, the fast continued. On the afternoon of 23 February, Gandhi’s Quaker admirer Horace Alexander arrived for a visit. Gandhi told the Quaker that his principal reason for fasting was to clear his name. He was distressed that he, who had striven for non-violence for almost fifty years, should be accused of ‘deliberately instigating the violence that has been and still is happening in the country today’. Gandhi said that if he were free, he would do all he could to rid India of violence, and also work to relieve the distress of those suffering from scarcity of food.46

  Gandhi was clearly under enormous mental stress. His physical condition was poor too. Sushila Nayar’s diary for 23 February noted that ‘Gandhiji had a very bad day. He was extremely exhausted, and suffered from restlessness, headache, nausea and salivation.’ The ‘nausea became so severe that he could not even look at water’. The ‘pulse became thready, almost imperceptible and he nearly fainted’.

  The next day, Gandhi continued to look ‘tired and weak’, but the following twenty-four hours were slightly less worrisome to him and his minders. Despite a slight headache, he had ‘a comfortable day on the whole’. He also slept well, and so, as Sushila wrote with relief, ‘this morning he feels better & the voice is stronger & he looks more rested and cheerful’.47 The Bombay government wired their bosses in Delhi that ‘medical circles in Bombay were now optimistic about Mr. Gandhi’s ability to survive his fast…’48

  On the 24th, Gandhi had ‘a fairly comfortable day. There were many visitors and he was tired at the end of the day.’ On the 25th too, ‘Gandhiji had a comfortable day on the whole, except that he felt weaker’. His doctor said ‘he looks rested and cheerful’. His fast was now into its third and final week. On the 26th, he complained of a ‘slight headache and a flattened out feeling’, but he slept well that night, and was ‘refreshed and cheerful’ when he awoke. The next day, the eighteenth of his self-imposed ordeal, he ‘felt weak, but otherwise very well’. He even read a book (we do not know which one) for about forty-five minutes. At 4.15 p.m., C. Rajagopalachari came for a visit. After a few minutes of chit-chat, ‘G started talking on the subject of non violence. He was deeply moved, became exhausted and pulse became very feeble. The interview had to be terminated immediately at 4.55. After that he had a drink of water, quietened down and went off to sleep. He slept for 45 minutes and felt better for the sleep.’

  There were now a mere three days to go. On the 28th, Dr Sushila Nayar was pleased to record sixty-three ounces of fluid intake, including nine of sweet lime juice. The urine output was likewise satisfactory. The penultimate day, 1 March, saw Gandhi feeling tired and weak, perhaps because there had been a rush of visitors to see him as it became clearer that he (and they) had come successfully through his (and their) ordeal.49

  Meanwhile, six American correspondents, temporarily stationed in India, had asked the government for permission to be present in the Aga Khan Palace when Gandhi broke his fast. They said they would not question or interview him, but take photographs and write background stories for their newspapers.

  The Bombay government said it did not want a ‘tamasha’ (their phrase), so the request was refused. A note on file by a senior officer reveals how, despite being on the same side in the war and despite sharing strong ties of language, culture and religion, the British upper class still harboured disdain for their trans-Atlantic cousins. Of this request to meet Gandhi, the officer remarked: ‘Truly American! These correspondents…practically burst into tears at the thought of Gandhi’s dying; but they flock like vultures to Poona in the hope of a funeral; and when cheated of that exciting privilege they clamour to invade his sick room and snap cameras at him, regardless of the fact that (in their own estimation) he is still at death’s door…’50

  X

  Gandhi broke his fast on 3 March 1943. Two days later, the doctors attending on him said ‘his progress was satisfactory’, and no further bulletins would be issued unless necessary. Meanwhile, the nature cure expert, Dinshaw Mehta, had come to Aga Khan Palace to help Gandhi recover faster from the after-effects of his ordeal. On his advice, Gandhi was taking diluted goat’s milk, fruit juice and fruit pulp. (Mehta had also attended on Gandhi after his fasts in Yerwada in 1932 and 1933.)

  On 10 March, a week after the fast had ended, the home member of the viceroy’s executive council told the Bombay government that ‘Dr Ambedkar has asked me whether we have received reports of Gandhi’s weight from day to day during his fast’. If this information was available, Ambedkar wanted to see it.

  Why did Ambedkar want this information? Why did he wish to know how his great political opponent had fared during his fast? The possibilities are intriguing. But we must resist speculation, and stick here to the facts. Ambedkar’s request resulted in the following table, compiled by the Bombay government:51

  Weight at commencement of fast

  109 lbs

  On 17/2

  105 lbs

  On 19/2

  97 lbs

  On 24/2

  90 lbs

  On 2/3

  91 lbs

  Always spindly and spare, Gandhi had become utterly emaciated during his ordeal. He had lost close to 20 per cent of his body weight in the three weeks he went without food. For a man now well into his seventies, to undertake such a long fast was an act of bravado; to see it through safely must be reckoned some kind of medical marvel.

  XI

  In September 1942, a month after Gandhi was jailed, Winston Churchill wrote to the secretary of state for India, Leo Amery: ‘Please let me have a note on Mr. Gandhi’s intrigues with Japan and the documents the Government of India published, or any other they possessed before on this topic.’ Three days later, Amery sent Churchill the note he asked for, which began: ‘The India Office has no evidence to show, or suggest, that Gandhi has intrigued with Japan.’ The ‘only evidence of Japanese contacts [with Gandhi] during the war’, the note continued, ‘relates to the presence in Wardha of two Japanese Buddhist priests who lived for part of 1940 in Gandhi’s Ashram’.52

  Before the Quit India movement had even begun, Churchill had convinced himself that Gandhi was intriguing with the Japanese. In February 1943, when Gandhi went on a fast in jail, Churchill convinced himself that Gandhi was secretly using energy supplements. On 13 February, Churchill wired Linlithgow: ‘I have heard that Gandhi usually has glucose in his water when doing his various fasting antics. Would it be possible to verify this.’

  Two days later, the viceroy wired back: ‘This may be the case but those who have been in attendance on him doubt it, and present Surgeon-General Bombay (a European) says that on a previous fast G. was particularly careful to guard against possibility of glucose being used. I am told that his present medical attendants tried to persuade him to take glucose yesterday and again today, and that he refused absolutely.’

  On 25 February, as the fast entered its third week, Churchill wired the viceroy: ‘Cannot help feeling very suspicious of bona fides of Gandhi’s fast. We were told fourth day would be the crisis and then well staged climax was set for eleventh day onwards. Now at fifteenth day bulletins look as if he might get through. Would be most valuable [if] fraud could be exposed. Surely with all those Congress Hindu doctors round him it is quite easy to slip glucose or other nourishment into his food.’

  By this time, the viceroy was himself increasingly exasperated with Gandhi. But there was no evi
dence that the fasting man had actually taken any glucose. So, he now replied to Churchill in a manner that stoked both men’s prejudices. ‘I have long known Gandhi as the world’s most successful humbug,’ fumed Linlithgow, ‘and have not the least doubt that his physical condition and the bulletins reporting it from day to day have been deliberately cooked so as to produce the maximum effect on public opinion.’ Then, going against his own previous statement, the viceroy claimed that ‘there would be no difficulty in his entourage administering glucose or any other food without the knowledge of the Government doctors’ (this when the same government doctors had told him exactly the reverse). ‘If I can discover any firm of evidence of fraud I will let you hear,’ said Linlithgow to Churchill, adding, somewhat sadly, ‘but I am not hopeful of this.’

  This prompted an equally disappointed reply from Churchill: ‘It now seems certain that the old rascal will emerge all the better from his so-called fast.’53

  XII

  An interesting sideways perspective on Gandhi’s fast was provided by the American diplomat William Phillips, who had served as his country’s ambassador to Belgium and Italy, as well as assistant and undersecretary of state. Phillips had come out to India in January 1943 as President Roosevelt’s personal representative, seeking to lean on the British to reach out to the Congress.