MAHATMA GANDHI

His Personality and Character

 

R. BANGARUSWAMI

 

            The first thing that struck anybody who, for the first time, saw Gandhiji was his emaciated frail body and his rather insignificant appearance. Sarojini Naidu affectionately called him “this little man, this tiny man, this man with a child’s body” and almost all writers who have written about him have not failed to touch on this aspect. But his nose was big’ and so also were his ears. A nickel-rimmed spectacles sat on his nose. “He seemed to be all spectacles” says a British newspaperman. “His bones positively stick out from his body ... A large portion of his chest was protruding from his upper garment. His mouth is shaped as if it once had prominent teeth. They have now disappeared, leaving a gaping void.” His small eyes had a flashing lustre and a “twinkling” quality and his toothless mouth hid a genial smile, a smile “that seemed to contain in it all the radiance of world’s childhood.” “The eyes of a strategist, the nose of a dictator, the mouth of a monologist”, says a writer summing up Gandhiji’s physiognomy.

 

            It may be said that Gandhiji’s dress underwent a metamorphosis with every landmark in his career. As a boy he was seen wearing a dhotie, close coat and cap. While he was in Britain for his studies, he substituted suit, boots and hat for his wear. When he went to South Africa for the first time, he was wearing a frock coat and a turban. (When the Judge asked him to remove the turban inside the court he refused, left the building and wrote to the newspapers about the incident. The matter came to be discussed and it provoked much publicity. But that’s another story.) After enrolment as a Barrister, it appears Gandhiji was wearing the prescribed Barrister’s robes. With his final return to India, a new era dawned. Gandhiji dressed himself in a dhotie, Kathiawadi cloak and turban. A jibba and a dhotie and a bag slung on his shoulders, followed later, and this perhaps during the period when he recruited volunteers to serve in the War Front. During the Non-co-operation Movement he wore a khaddar cap on his head besides the khadi dhotie and shirt. The cap known as the “Gandhi cap” caught the imagination of the public, and Congressmen everywhere began to wear it. In 1931 while touring in Madura, South India, he happened to see many peasants and workers who were meagrely dressed. When he asked them why they did not wear khaddar, they said that they were too poor even for the clothing they had. Gandhiji thought over the matter the whole night and next morning he put into practice the decision to discard using “every inch of clothing I decently could and thus to a still greater extent bring myself in line with the ill-clad masses.” When Churchill called him a “half-naked fakir” he said that “the adoption of the loin cloth” was for him, as for many people in his country, a matter of “necessity” and “in so far as the loin cloth also spells simplicity, let it represent Indian civilisation.” And ever after he stuck to his loin cloth. During the Noakali tour sometime before his death he was seen wearing a straw hat of a peculiar type to shield him from the sun.

 

            Like Thoreau, whom Gandhiji admired much, the Mahatma also wanted to “simplify, simplify, simplify” life. It was an ascetic simplicity that he practised and practised it for years and years. The Ashram huts in which he lived were like the poor men’s huts in India, mud-walled and thatch-roofed, with little furniture and without modern appliances. The screens, the utensils and other equipments utilised were rural products. After his fountain-pen was lost he used a very ordinary cheap steel pen for writing and had a cheap ink-pot filled with ink for dipping his pen to write on. He had a small bag tied with a henna string for keeping his papers. In his portion of the Ashram he usually sat on a spread mat and did his writing in a squatting position placing one thigh on another and using it to hold his paper for writing on. Mats for visitors were also provided for. He used no wrist-watch but kept an ordinary watch with him. When he was once in Madras it was lost and it created a sensation. He used no mosquito-net because he considered it was a luxury for a large mass of his countrymen. A little drop of kerosene for the legs, he thought, was good protection against mosquito bite. He slept only for four or five hours a day and he snatched moments of sleep whenever he wanted it. It is said that he once discarded the use of pillows. Often he slept in the open air with the sky for his roof.

 

            As for his food, oh, it is a subject for a whole book. When one tries to understand Gandhiji one should never forget that he was making experiments in every walk of life. And in nothing more was he so assiduous and ardent as in the field of dietetics, making constant experiments on himself. Referring to his diet said Sarojini Naidu once humorously–“grass and goat’s milk–” though it was not so very bad as that. Beginning life as a vegetarian, he became also a fruitarian, then for a time he dispensed with milk altogether, dispensed with salt altogether, substituted tamarind water for lime-juice as drink, replaced vegetable green leaves by margosa leaves–to mention a few of his experiments. Groundnuts and goat’s milk and dates seem to have a special preference for him. What is sought to be emphasised here is not only his simplicity but also his assiduous efforts at simplification of the ways of existence.

 

            Gandhiji lived simplicity for the sake of simplicity and rejoiced in it. But the simplicity was also based on economy, an economy of the strictest kind, especially when it referred to his own person; Waste and extravagance of any kind of any thing at anytime were repugnant to him. Simply they had no place in his scheme of life. It is said that a board was put up in his kitchen–“Don’t waste salt.” If it was so about the cheapest article of our food, one can only imagine what he would say if he found any costlier article wasted! (Gandhiji must have for long had a grouse against the Government for taxing the poor man’s salt and not making it much less cheaper. No wonder he started the Salt Satyagraha Movement.) By the way, one is reminded in this connection of a personal reminiscence by the Rt. Hon. Srinivasa Sastri, one of Gandhiji’s intimate friends, that his (Sastri’s) mother being offered a gift of mangoes for pickles, returned the same as she could not then afford to buy the salt! To continue, Gandhiji did not throw aside the envelopes received by him by post. He used them as one-side paper for jotting down some notes or other and when he found a visitor wanting a bit of paper he would give him one or more of these slips according to the person’s need and necessity. Gandhiji did not also throwaway the shortest stump of a pencil but preserved it for some future use and visitors, who having got paper, when they wanted a pencil, got one of these stumps!

 

            Gandhiji saw to it that all this economy did not affect efficiency. His system and order in the keeping of the household was seen in everything–big or small. He attended to the smallest detail. Though his correspondence was “mountainous “, he made it a point to answer them within two or three days, writing replies many of them in his own hand and seeing whether they have been correctly addressed. Finding the cost of bread purchased in large quantities for his heterogenous family” in South Africa very costly, he started the experiment of preparing bread at home with flour itself ground by him and others. His rule that everybody should walk the distance of a few miles to the station, saved a lot of money and the habit inculcated once, offered a good and simple exercise for the promotion of health into the bargain. Gandhiji when he was accompanied by his sons or other youngsters utilised the walking time to teach them something or other, thus showing to all the world the virtues of parental peripatetic pedagogy. Again by his habit of keeping very strict accounts to the pie he was able to gauge the economic position of his several activities at a moment’s notice.

 

            But in all this one should not fail to note his high sense and value of time. Yes, time is money, and much more than money. Time lost can never be regained. He was punctual to the minute in every one of his acts. Once it happened that he could not go to a meeting in time and he had to go a mile or two to that place. There was a cyclist near and Gandhiji asked his help which he readily gave. Though Gandhiji did not know cycling before, somehow he went with him on the cycle and reached the place in time. In his scheme of things everything had its allotted time–prayer, bath, food, spinning, work, interview. And Gandhiji found that there was such a call on his time that he should combine two or even three things on one occasion. Newspapers he read in the privy, interviews were given while he was doing his daily quota of spinning, got by heart slokas of the Gita while he was taking his bath, thought out serious problems while taking his walk, and so on. But his time-sense did not make him a man of hurry. Thoroughness and efficiency were his keynotes in life. And work, work, and work without end. In a letter to Sardar Patel he writes: “I have surpassed myself in writing today. Both the waist and the back are aching in protest but the protest must be disregarded for the present.” Even while engaged in some mechanical work he warns that one should not give room to any idle thoughts. To Sardar Patel he wrote: “It is very important to learn how to keep needless thoughts out of the mind!” Gandhiji’s cure for this is very simple. He suggests learning Gita by heart or studying Sanskrit or reciting Ramdhun. During the almost full measure of a man’s life that he lived, he made every day do the work of one week. Jail life was utilised for intensive study. Ship journeys and the waiting time at stations were utilised for picking up new languages. This incessant activity of body and mind was regulated by a strict adherence to time and programme, to order and routine.

 

            And Gandhiji loved doing his own things himself. However trivial it might be, he seldom asked another to do a thing which he could attend to by himself. Self-help at all time and in all places was his motto. It gave one self-reliance, saved time and money. He learnt washing, shaving, midwifery, nursing–oh, the list seems endless. And he the biggest leader of a very big nation, leading it in a tussle with a major power in world politics, found time and energy for doing many little things, little deeds of kindness, speaking little words of comfort and encouragement to those who came to him and poured forth their sorrows,

 

            He valued silence as much as he valued speech. To him the weekly day of silence meant more time and intensity of work. God never takes rest, the Sun never takes rest and man too has no right to idleness but must do something useful, that’s how he thought.

 

            Fearlessness was an important attribute of his character. And with fearlessness went frankness, the character of calling a spade a spade. It is all easy to praise these virtues but when it comes to acting, many difficulties may crop up. But not even for courtesy’s sake Gandhiji would not give up his frankness. It should not be forgotten that frankness itself is a mark of fearlessness. When to the consternation of those assembled, among whom were some Rajahs and Maharajahs, he rated these Highnesses for their jewelled pedantry and silken pomp which could be better utilised for the benefit of the poor, when he asked high British officials to resign their posts and join him in his fight for India’s Swaraj, he carried his frankness to a degree. But the fearlessness which he showed in all his action astonished the world. Speaking of his fearlessness said G. S. Arundale that it was natural to him and “because it is natural it is gracious, it is chivalrous to all who are in his way!” It was “fearlessness which makes friends not foes, which makes peace and not war.” Not only was he utterly fearless himself but also made all others who came in contact with him likewise fearless. As Viscount Samuel said: “He taught the Indian to straighten his back, to raise his eyes, to face circumstance with a steady gaze.” Under Gandhiji’s lead many a countryman of his lost the fear of losing property, the fear of going to gaol, the fear of undergoing hardship, the fear of separation from his near and dear ones, the fear of even death itself.

 

            This abhaya came to him because of his infinite trust in God and in his kindness and alertness in doing good and in saving those who put their trust in him. Because he was fearless it became possible for Gandhiji to build all life’s activities on the strong foundations of Truth and Non-violence, the two sentinel stars that guided all his activities. What Tolstoi said of himself applies with greater emphasis to Gandhiji. “The hero of my tale, whom I love with all the power of my soul, whom I have tried to portray in all his beauty, who has been, is, and will be, beautiful is–Truth.” Truth and nothing but truth, as the witness is made to swear in the witness box, Truth which gives no loophole of exception, Truth in its highest sublimation as God and in all its ordinary and special usage. To Gandhiji even secrecy is against Truth. After Truth comes non-violence, non-violence in it’s amplified meaning of Love, not only to human beings but to all God’s creation, the birds of the air and the beasts born and brought up on the same earth, mother to us all. Like many a really pious Hindu imbued with the spirit of Ahimsa and love of his religion and Dharma, Gandhiji would not even hurt an adder. His doctrine of non-violence as a practical article of faith to be practised in this world came under violent criticism. Gandhiji’s answer to this was that everyone could practise it to the extent that he can go. Gandhiji’s Contribution to ethical or poltical or moral warfare against evil was his doctrine of Satyagraha which analysed would come to Satya plus Ahimsa plus fearlessness in a good mixture. And Gandhiji showed that this decoction was a very potent force to fight any formidable evil.

 

            Gandhiji practised non-possession in the right spirit of the Gita. He called himself once a mendicant and his earthly property was practically nil. Even while he was in South Africa he returned to the public all the gifts of gold and silver which it presented to him out of love for his own use. Once he said that one should practise non-possession to the very bone of one’s self, farther than the skin! It was this creed of non-possession that made him terminate his insurance policy at a stroke. To trust insurance for the protection of his family after death was a kind of mistrust in God’s goodness in whose hands everybody who trusts him is quite safe. God was to him the alpha and omega in everything–the starting point, the middle, the end.

 

            Allied to non-possession came his vow of Brahmacharya even while living a married state and that too when he was in middle ’Thirties. These two by themselves would have been sufficient to stamp him with asceticism but along with his dedicated life of service for the poor masses and his sacrifices they made him really into a saint and a Mahatma. And the real beauty of the whole thing was that Gandhiji loved and rejoiced in this career of a political asceticism because it gave him an opportunity to serve humanity, which according to him was serving God in the most acceptable form. He set a high value on social work and never spared either energy or time for its devotion. He had himself trained in scientific nursing and while he was in South Africa on two critical occasions during the Boer War and during the Zulu rebellion he led a corps of men to nurse the sick and the wounded in the battle and received the approbation of the Government. That apart, he missed no opportunity to nurse the sick in his own home, night and day. Like Jesus he washed the wounds of lepers, applied medicine and bound them, and this he; did without feeling any sense of nastiness of the task but in a spirit of joy and service and thankfulness to God for providing him with such opportunities of service and such moral tests for his character. At the Wardha Ashram for two years he daily attended to the needs of a Sastri, well-versed in Sanskrit, but attacked with the fell disease of leprosy.

 

            Though there was a tinge of pugnacity in his temperament, the many restrictions that he placed on himself curbed his outbursts to a very large degree. Still, as has been avowed by closest disciples, it was no easy task to attend on him. He was, for all his kindness and all his love, a terrible disciplinarian, a very hard taskmaster. Tears, even lovely women’s tears, did not move him. Nilla Prem Cook, an American girl, left the Ashram because “Gandhi is a tyrant.” Kasturbai was the worst to suffer under his tyranny and Gandhiji admitted it in his frank and open-hearted manner. Past middle age he found fault with her once for going to the Puri temple not thrown open to Harijans then, and she had to apologise, and Mahadev Desai had to take the blame on himself for taking her, and then Gandhiji turned the query inward and blamed himself for neglecting her education! And on another occasion he turned his angry glance at her and reproached her for giving an additional sweet to her grandchildren! For a strictly impartial man, a man of the highest integrity, for one who regards all the world as a family, this grandmotherly triviality of affection was out of the way! Still on another occasion out of solicitude for his wife’s health, when she was ill and had to travel in train, Gandhiji with some difficulty had to stifle his sense of truth a little and allow her to use the second class privy when they had only third class tickets with them! No wonder a friend of him once said that he was ‘‘as cross-grained as a hickory nut.”

 

            His way of dealing with indiscipline was also a bit curious and out of the way. On one occasion an Ashram girl, when she was detected in her loose conduct, was made to part with her hair on the head. Or more usually he fasted himself for anybody else’s offence in the Ashram!

 

            But abstemious life, rigorous discipline, unceasing work, the weight of a nation’s worry in its travail–these things ingrained in him a high voltage of patience: “patience with opponents, patience with an alien Government, patience with his endless visitors and patience with his own, at times disturbing, disciples.”

 

            Silence, fasting and prayer became his safety valves of escape, During the ‘Twenties he kept a vow of silence for one whole year. His fasts were legion and all these fasts were undertaken mostly for public ends and achieved a good measure of the objectives for which they were undertaken.

 

            His memory was as prodigious as his faith in God, and his mission as strong and enduring as his will and as wonderful as his work. His aptitude for remembering faces and facts and figures and names, especially for a man of his stature moving with so many people and dealing with so many things, was amazing. And whoever corresponded with him did not fail to get his reply. No, nothing appeared trivial to this great man whose one aim on earth was to find a lasting solution to all human ills by Satya and Ahimsa. He never failed to pay his tribute of praise even to the lowliest of the low when he or she exhibited marks of heroism, be it young girl like Valliamma who died of a fatal fever after returning from jail or an old man like Harbat Singh. “Valliamma left us the heritage of an immortal name” and Gandhiji says his “head bowed in reverence before this illiterate sage”, Harbat Singh.

           

            Gandhiji found an admirable way of turning defects into advantages. During his early life he found he was tardy in expression. He utilised it to think out his words in precision; he never repented or recalled what he said. He found living in cities costly, He shifted to rural surroundings and founded Ashrams, and so on.

 

            Gandhiji had a phenomenal love for children. Though a strict disciplinarian he liked playing with them and spending sometime daily in their company, if he can help it. He laughed and felt much amused even when they made fun of him.

 

            He has a high sense of humour and many of his humorous remarks and witty statements have found their way in print. Sarojini Naidu was one of those few admirers who took great liberties with him, taking the liberty of cracking many a joke with him all of which he enjoyed immensely. Has he not stated–“I can laugh even with those who laugh at me. That’s what keeps me young.” Genuine Ananda is a prerequisite for healthy life and an optimistic outlook even when life’s sky is covered with dark dense clouds, is enjoined by our Shastras. Rightly Gandhiji calls himself an “incorrigible optimist” and an incorrigible optimist he was in the face of the greatest dangers that threatened him or his movement. Whatever happened or might happen he never lost hope, the hope that springs eternal in human breast.

 

            Nor did he lose faith in the justness of his cause or in the Satyagrahic qualities that abided in his followers or in his inner voice that ultimately called to his timely help. Nothing, nothing in the world could shake his faith in God nor his trust in Him that He would come to him in time with a helping hand and a healing word of counsel.

 

            Gandhiji was an amalgam of opposite forces strangely but strongly blended together. He was a realist of realists, practical to the spending of even a pie and yet his ideals were Himalayan in their grandeur, appearing like them so big and baffling, distant and yet near, looming far high into the horizon and yet looming as a permanent feature into the far distant future. He himself said that he did not hope to reach those ideals, though he was walking on the path that led to them. He was a politician and a saint–what a strange combination, and yet how effective! He was a doctor and a lawyer, a preacher and a propagandist, a man of letters and a man of action!

 

            No wonder such a man as he was called by many epithets by many people. Here is a haphazard collection of a few: Public Fool 1; Micky Mouse; Naked Fakir: Loincloth Saint; Cooly Barrister; Karmavir Gandhi; Village clown. On the other hand there were people who saw in him the many great qualities that made a Jesus, a Buddha, a Mahomed. Many comparisons have been drawn between him and Abraham Lincoln, Switzer Tolstoi, Kagowa and other kindred spirits.

 

            Yet, to us, in India at any rate, Gandhiji shines like a star apart ever beckoning to follow his lead, the lead of Truth and Ahimsa, now and for all time to come. It is a great tragedy that within three decades after his death the ideals for which he had lived and died should be forgotten, neglected and thrown into cold storage. But come back the people must to Truth and Ahimsa, for therein lies the hope for the future of the world!

 

Back