WE naturally think of Gandhi as the Father of the Indian Nation and as the hero who delivered us from alien rule. But even more than that Gandhi was a world-historical figure and it is essentially from this point of view that his contribution to our times ought to be understood. Among contemporary thinkers it is perhaps Toynbee who gives the proper perspective for any adequate understanding and appraisal of Gandhism today. Discussing it in the broader sociological context of ‘Encounters Between Civilizations in Space’ and the ‘Law of Cultural Radiation’, he says:

‘In calling upon his fellow Hindus to revert to spinning and weaving their cotton by hand, Gandhi was indeed showing them a way to extricate themselves from the visible meshes of a western economic spider’s web; but this Gandhian policy was based on two assumptions which must both be justified in the event, if the policy was to achieve its aim. The first assumption was that the Hindu would be prepared to make the economic sacrifices which the policy entailed; and, of course, they were not. But, even if Gandhi had not been disappointed in his expectations of his countrymen’s economic disinterestedness, his policy would have been brought to naught by the falsity of its second implicit assumption, which was a misapprehension of the intrusive culture’s spiritual quality. Gandhi allowed himself to see nothing more in the late modern western civilization than the secular social structure, in which Technology had been substituted for Religion. It did not apparently occur to him that his masterly use of contemporary methods of political organization, publicity, and propaganda was as "western" as the cotton mills against which he was tilting. But one must go further than that; for Gandhi himself was a product of cultural radiation from the West. The spiritual event that had liberated Gandhi’s "soul force" was an encounter, in the sanctuary of the soul, between the spirit of Hinduism and the spirit of the Christian gospel embodied in the life of the Society of Friends.’

While emphasizing Gandhi’s uncompromising opposition to western civilization, Toynbee is also quite clear about Gandhi’s failure. Too saintly to lose faith and too great to feel frustrated, the Mahatma, nevertheless, knew that he had failed; and he knew it with a clarity rare even among the great. But did it mean that Gandhism too had failed?

 

Toynbee’s answer is an emphatic ‘yes’. It may well be true, but it is important to see that precisely on this point Toynbee’s thinking is seriously mistaken. He does not seem to appreciate that Gandhi’s mission was not confined to saving India from the West. That was incidental. The essential meaning of Gandhi’s mission is to be found in his steadfast concern with the destiny of mankind. He wanted to save the West from itself (a concern Nehru inherited as his political successor). The central problem of Gandhism, therefore, is: can it prove adequate to this tremendous challenge? And this, in effect, is to ask: has sanity a chance against the forces of darkness which overwhelm us today?

But before elaborating on this problem and indicating its various dimensions, let us be clear on one point. Gandhi did not believe in the coexistence of moral men and immoral society. Years ago, Reinhold Neibuhr argued with considerable persuasion that a State and a Society could never be moral and that this was not a limitation but the very nature of Society and the State. What Neibuhr meant to say was that the concept of morality did not apply to collectivities but only to individuals. It will immediately be obvious that Gandhi held a diametrically opposed view. In fact, one of his most important contributions to political thought and action was the idea that ways of moral action and resistance successfully used on the individual plane could be transformed into powerful forms of collective political action. Indeed, the technique of satyagraha (fast, civil disobedience and other forms) presupposes this basic postulate.

It is clear that Gandhi was convinced that society could be, and should be, moral. Did he also hold that man as an individual could not be moral when society was not? Let us examine this. Gandhi was a great believer in the virtues of compromise not only in the political but in other spheres as well; it was part of his political theory and practice to lay the greatest stress on sincerity and the purity of the personal lives of each political actor. In a more general way, too, he gave all possible emphasis and attention to the participants in political action as individuals. From this point of view, it may seem as if Gandhi did not rule out the possibility of moral men in a non-moral or immoral society.

It may also be pointed out that the ultimate orientation of Gandhi’s political action was towards effecting a change of heart of the other party and that he believed in a cumulative process of social change. And this, it may be argued, also goes to support the view that Gandhi believed in the coexistence of moral man and immoral society.

 

And, yet, it seems clear to us that this is a false interpretation of Gandhi’s thought. His stress on the individual was merely a powerful and realistic way of stressing what may be called the Principle of Normality. A normal society is simply a society. Opposed to it are what have been called the mass society and the mass-man. We hear now of mass-culture, too. The Mass and the Society (Man, Culture) used to be contrary to each other. They have become inseparable now.

A society has an intelligible order and an overall purpose. A mass lacks both. It follows that each member of a society has its own place of function. Not so with the mass.

A society whose members are humans is a human society. When man is called a social animal, the reference obviously is to his innate love of order and purpose and not to any ‘herd’ instinct or natural inclination for the company of his own kind (these traits are found in other animals and even in the inanimate order). That man is social by nature means that, unlike other animals, it is repugnant to the very nature of man to live as a mere part of a mass.

 

Those who talk of mass-society are, of course, aware of the distinction between a mass and a society. They are also keenly conscious of the fact that mass and society undermine each other. They understand perfectly well that a mass-man is not a man – at any rate not a full man. They are even worried about it. They had learnt to admire certain things, certain states of mind, certain states of affairs which they conceptualized as culture and civilization. They now realize that the mass will destroy their civilization, root and branch; more effectively, in fact, than any barbarian onslaught could ever do. They are not unaware that the barbarian has entered our souls. Somewhere, at some time, the modern man was lured into the magician’s bargain: Give up your souls, get power over every thing in return.

Anxiously aware of the deadening influence of this New Deal, modern thinkers are nonetheless too much under its spell to believe in the possibility of getting out of it. In their view, all that one can hope to do is to manage to get the most favourable terms in this bargain. Through the ideas of mass-society and mass-man and mass-culture they are searching for ability of a mass that will have just enough of social elements to save it from slowly withering away. One does not have to be an anti-modernist to see that this is a utopian wish which springs, in a somewhat vague way, from a love for the necromancer’s art.

Gandhi wanted to break the spell. He would disown and destroy this diabolic bond. Herein lies the basic difference between Gandhi and the contemporary critics of modern society and culture – and what is more important, it is this that defines the difference between Gandhi and current Gandhism.

 

He was against ‘mass-society’. He knew what forces were responsible for it and, unlike most contemporary leaders, he was uncompromising in his resistance to them. For instance, he was not prepared to compromise with modern technology. He went to the root of the matter and attacked the ideal of a rising standard of living. For he saw that it meant only a higher and higher standard of consumption until obsolescence and destruction became the regulating principle of all production. He boldly set up the ideal of aparigraha, non-possession; a principle which implies an emphasis on the present which is designed to set severe limits on the accumulative process. Aparigraha would thus not only undermine planning in a technical way; it would inculcate an outlook incompatible with the one required by a planned society.

It is, therefore, in this context that his emphasis on the individual is to be understood. The modern ‘industrial’ or ‘mass-society’ is really a collectively of sub-humans. Gandhi thought steadfastly in terms of a society of men – a society in which there will be, of course, no mechanical equality, but where no one will be forced to a subhuman level. From the Gandhian point of view, a nation would not be ‘musical’ because of the great orchestras which are maintained in its capitals and supported by a select circle of music lovers, nor even because such orchestras offered popular programmes. ‘England was’, says Coomaraswamy, ‘a nest of singing birds when Pepys could insist on an underparlour maid’s ability to take a difficult part in the family chorus, failing which she would not be engaged.’

This is exactly what Gandhi wanted Indian society to be; a society in which every member would be a full member according to his own place and specific capacities. As we have already indicated, he seemed keenly aware that only a congenial social structure could help individuals to become what they ought to be. But he emphasized the individual to show the character of the social order he was striving for – a society of active members, not a mass of passive workers or labourers or robots.

 

Nor did Gandhi believe in the individual as the source or agent of change. He would have vehemently rejected the slogan that ‘change begins in the minds of men.’ Absolutely believing in God and providential guidance, Gandhi thought that man could only be an instrument of God’s will. He emphasized purity of heart and mind so that one could attain to the highest point of human creativity and get a correct intimation of the divine will and act efficiently according to it. Gandhi believed that a suprahuman, supratemporal realm was the common ground of both man and society. Given this framework, the dichotomy of man and society cannot arise, unless one held, as Gandhi did not, that the social order could not be built on moral or metaphysical principles such as those of truth and non-violence.

To explore the possibility of a normal (or a spiritual) social order such as Gandhi envisaged, the following problems should, we think, be specially considered:

A. What is common between the western critics of modern civilization and plans of reconstruction and Mahatma Gandhi? It is well known that he was influenced by Thoreau, Ruskin and Tolstoy. Toynbee has suggested a strong influence of Quakerism. There may be other influences and parallelisms, unacknowledged or not so well known. To explore the common points and the significant differences, particularly in the light of equally important Hindu influences such as the Gita and Vaishnavism, will put the matter in its historical perspective.

B. A detailed picture of the Gandhian socio-economic system includes:

(i) Gandhian economics – (a) his opposition to technology and his idea of a non-technological non-exploitative society based on economic decentralization, (b) his idea of a life-oriented economy as against one oriented to commodity production and standard of living, and (c) his ideal of wantlessness – how far does it make sense in the modern society.

(ii) Gandhian politics: (a) political order based on non-violence and truth as the foundations of state power, (b) forms of democratic vigilance, satyagraha and its forms (civil disobedience, boycott etc.) and (c) the basis and form of distribution of political and social powers.

 

It is here that the Gandhian notion of trusteeship belongs. It has often been enunciated in the context of labour-capital relations. But, obviously, it is a general principle of social organization. It has been one of the most widely discussed aspects of Gandhism, although to some it looks wholly utopian. It deserves the most careful examination, for some form of trusteeship principle underlies not only theocratic systems of socio-political organization, but forms the basis of most of the theories of representative government as well. The key question about the principle of trusteeship seems to be the following: does it depend essentially on a major change in human nature and require a pre-established harmony between degrees of goodness in individuals and the social status of the group, or can there be reasonably adequate institutional arrangements to ensure a fair measure of success for trusteeship taking individual goodness not as a prerequisite but as a function of the socio-economic set up?

(iii) The Gandhian system of education – (a) Basic education: Is it just a scheme of good education, with its prototype in the so-called progressive and activity schools, or is it a scheme of education organically connected with a sociology, an ethics and an aesthetics integral to Gandhism? (b) Higher Education: Gandhi was inclined to make it mainly the concern of private enterprise. This requires careful examination. All education, and particularly, higher education is, in the last analysis, an extension of the culture of a people. The important question here is: what institutional arrangements are necessary for a Gandhian socio-cultural system? Is the establishment of university chairs of Gandhian thought enough? Will a revision of courses do or will we require a radically different organization and a wholly different set of courses?

 

Another important question in connection with the Gandhian scheme of education is: is it sufficiently aware of the need to produce and perpetuate an intellectual elite? However strong our democratic prejudices may be, an elite (whatever its name and privileges) is indispensable to any society. Gandhi himself did not pay sufficient attention to this. It is our duty to fill in this gap consistently with the principles of Gandhism. The importance of this aspect of Gandhian education is obvious, for it is connected with Gandhi’s life mission – the restoration of human civilization to normalcy. Such a task could be slowly completed only by an elite.

 

A somewhat general question arises at this stage concerning the relation of the Gandhian social ideal to the traditional Indian concept of society, on the one hand, and with the revolutionary ideas of Marx, on the other. The remarks we have made above tend, perhaps, to suggest that Gandhism is simply a version of traditionalism. From one point of view this is correct: Gandhiji himself envisaged Ram Rajya. From another, and no less important, standpoint, however, this is a mistake. On many fundamental points Gandhism differs widely from traditional thought.

For example, Gandhi’s ideas on political rule, on the use of force, on war, on education, on social stratification (social inequality) diverge significantly from those found in traditional thought. The study of this relation as well as a comparison with the Marxian system would be greatly illuminating for an understanding of Gandhism and its significance today.

More immediately, however, one should be clear about Gandhi being a revivalist or a believer in sociological archaism. That he was not a revivalist or a reactionary seems pretty clear; but his radical opposition to modern industrialism and technology does involve a reverse movement in time. How is this to be understood? ‘The real intention of many reactionaries for whom there is no such thing as a "dead past",’ says Coomaraswamy, ‘is not to put back the hands (of the clock) but to put them forward to another noonday.’ If this is the Gandhian position, what is contemporary Gandhism going to do about India’s world leader who is resolved to reduce his country to the level to the USA? If Gandhism cannot accept this challenge, its significance can scarcely go beyond that of ‘survival’ from the liberal, civilized rule of Britain over India.

Today, when the contradictions and disappointments of the ‘industrial society’ have become central, and hence too intrusive to be ignored, when the world is living in a state of constant war and fear of global destruction, the somewhat widespread European and Anglo-American interest in Gandhi and Gandhism is natural. However, only two aspects of it have caught the imagination of western thinkers: (i) non-violent techniques of political resistance, (including war resistance) and (ii) Gandhian techniques of resolving social tension and social conflicts between different classes or ethnic groups (capitalist and labour, Whites and Negroes).

In India, Gandhism has been continued only outside the Congress. The two leaders who are supposed to carry Gandhism forward are Vinoba Bhave and Jaya Prakash Narayan; the movement which seeks to realize Gandhian ideals is called Sarvodaya.

 

About contemporary western interest in Gandhism, the most remarkable thing is its narrowness bordering almost on the vulgar. Apart from the purely theoretical interest of certain philosophers such as Arne Naess, the major interest is in Gandhism as a technique which may be tried in solving certain problems of contemporary civilization for which local western methods have been proving increasingly inadequate. With Gandhism as a way of life, the West has been scarcely, if at all, concerned, because its interest springs from within the basic structure of modern society and is, naturally, experimental in approach.

The nature and quality of western interest in Gandhism immediately raises two questions: (i) will the Gandhian technique, even with suitable modifications, succeed? And (ii) is it not a distortion of Gandhism to take certain aspects of it from their proper context and use them as mere techniques, in fact, in the service of a society to which Gandhi was fundamentally opposed?

 

The question of distortions is important, and in my opinion deserves to be discussed at greater length. A full and frank and even blunt discussion is essential for the vitality of Gandhian thought. The general form of distortion and degeneration is idolatry; the substitution of the body for the soul; of the accidental for the essential; the conversion into an object of worship of what is properly a support of contemplation. This is very much in evidence in Vinoba Bhave’s programmes. The Bhoodan and the Gramdan movements do not seem to be in keeping with the spirit of Gandhi who would not have allowed his people to compromise with an unjust law or legal system.

Similarly, Vinoba Bhave’s anti-dacoity and anti-obscene poster campaign and other such activities are to be counted as chapters of his biography and not as part of the later history of Gandhism. They show that Vinoba is shy of attacking the roots: he does not say boldly that the motion picture has no place in any normal culture. Indeed, fundamentally, he accepts the present government, the leadership of Nehru and the present social system. Gandhi went to the roots: he would have rejected Nehru, the present government and, of course, he did uncompromisingly reject the present order. He would have unflinchingly, even quixotically (which let us not forget symbolizes the religious hero), fought for a normal social order.

Another example, small but characteristic of the defiant spirit of contemporary Gandhism, is provided by the Gandhi ashrams. Khadi obviously was something more than hand spun cloth. It stood for simplicity and purity in the style of living. Today, the idea is to make khadi the last word in fashion. Vinoba Bhave is unconcerned. Let us put it like this, with perhaps no more exaggeration than may be permissible in a ‘poser’– is Vinoba Bhave the Grand Inquisitor who thought that only by locking up Christ could he further the spread of Christianity?

 

Every thought system, every new way of life has its own form of distortion. The one peculiar to Gandhism is insincerity and religiosity; the lack of courage to resist evil, root and branch, under cover of reformism and reconstruction. The root of this specific distortion is the acceptance of the coexistence thesis which, as we said, Gandhi rejected.

Perhaps Jaya Prakash Narayan should be considered an exception, for he seems to see the need for supplanting the present order and making a radical beginning. His energies are geared to the building of a socio-economic order which will conform to the sarvodaya ideals and eliminate the pathological features of modern society. A discussion of Jaya Prakash Narayan’s scheme contained in his two documents – ‘Plan for the Reconstruction of Indian Society’, and the recently published ‘Swaraj for the People’ – is most essential.

And this brings us back to Gandhism in the contemporary situation. The Chinese aggression – and the permanent threat it implies – has put Gandhism to a crucial test and a supreme trial. For, India’s extremely difficult situation in the context of the Chinese attack is not merely a question of military weakness and lack of preparation. The disruption caused to the Indian economy, the far-reaching political complications implicit in it and a certain type of inherent vulnerability of our socio-economic system are only some of the aspects of a most complicated situation.

More significant is the fact that the latest advances in nuclear warfare have radically changed the entire politics and strategy of national defence and international peace. Two new ideas are dominating current thinking in this sphere: the idea of nuclear deterrence and the idea of defence by trusteeship (consider the role of the USA as the trustee responsible for the defence of every ‘free’ nation, thus rendering the concept of independent national defence obsolete). Both of these ideas emphasize the fundamental logical relevance of Gandhism.

 

The theory of deterrence may be good enough in maintaining an unstable equilibrium but it cannot be logically tenable as a necessary and a sufficient condition of lasting world peace. This, in an indirect dialectical way, proves the indispensable worth, the perennial significance of Gandhism. In the same way the theory of American or Russian trusteeship is an extension of the Gandhian theory.

But how have the contemporary inheritors of Gandhism responded to this challenge? Have they been able to achieve the ‘breakthrough’ from the idea of non-violent struggle against foreign rule to the idea of non-violent defence of national freedom against mighty aggression? Neither Vinoba nor Jaya Prakash Narayan have given any evidence of clear thinking on this all-important problem. All they have to offer is a long-term Peace March to Peking which, anyway, is out of bounds to the marchers. If such bowdlerizations of Gandhism continue to appeal to eminent Gandhians, the prospects of Gandhism alias sanity could not be gloomier.

 

 

* The article was originally titled ‘The problem’.

  Seminar 46, ‘Gandhism’, June 1963, pp. 10-14.