Between Two Worlds

G ANDHI REACHED Bombay in 1896, shortly after the first wave

of devastating sea-borne bubonic plague had arrived from China.
Amid a general panic he returned home and immediately offered
his services to the state. He was appointed to Rajkot's sanitation committee,
embarking upon what would become one of his lifelong compulsions,
the inspection and cleaning of latrines. His interest in nursing, of course,
harked back to his daily care of his ailing father, but his compulsion to do
work ordinarily reserved by Hinduism for "untouchables" may have had
powerful social reform implications as well as deeper psychological roots.
"The poor people had no objection to their latrines being inspected.
. . . But when we went to inspect the . . . upper ten, some of them even refused
us admission." Gandhi recalled finding latrines of the richest inhabitants
of Rajkot "dark and stinking." His committee had to inspect the
untouchables' quarters also. Only one member of the Hindu committee
agreed to accompany him there, though "the entrances were well swept,
the floors were beautifully smeared with cow-dung, and the few pots and
pans were clean and shining."1
Gandhi's transition from Anglophile barrister dress and high style to
peasant simplicity and minimal possessions began first in his heart and
mind, though not as yet in his dress or home furnishings. The decade from
1896 to 1906 marked that most remarkable metamorphosis from Mohandas
to Mahatma. His aptitude for nursing became a positive passion
and during his few months at home in 1896 he brought his dying brotherin-
law to his Rajkot residence, where he nursed him around the clock, engaging
not only his wife but the whole household in such service. Kasturba
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Between Two Worlds
was by now quite used to her husband's strange compulsions but hardly
found nursing as appealing as he did, perhaps because she had done so
much of it while he was far away. "Such service can have no meaning unless
one takes pleasure in it," Gandhi wrote, insisting that "all other pleasures"
paled before "service which is rendered in a spirit of joy."2
The day after his brother-in-law's death, Gandhi left for Bombay. He
was to address a public meeting, convened at his request, to inform the
leaders of India's National Congress of the plight of their brethren in Natal
and the Transvaal. Sir Pherozeshah Mehta presided over the meeting in
Bombay's historic hall and fortunately insisted that Gandhi write out his
speech, as his voice was too weak to articulate it. Gandhi asked an old
friend with a stronger voice to read for him, but the audience wanted silvertongued
Sir Dinshaw Wacha instead, shouting "Wacha, Wacha" until that
small man, who usually hid himself in Mehta's shadow, rose to speak.
From Bombay, Gandhi journeyed over the Western Ghats to Poona,
former capital of the Chitpavan Brahman prime ministers, who in pre-British
times ruled Maharashtra. There he met first with Lokamanya ["Revered
by the People"] B. G. Tilak. Tilak was the leader of the radical wing
of India's nationalist movement who would soon be jailed for "sedition,"
British judges insisting that his editorials incited violence among young
nineteenth-century Maharashtrian Brahmans. Tilak seemed to Gandhi as
foreboding as the "ocean," whose dark waters were always potentially
dangerous and destructive. Tilak was, however, young India's first great
populist leader. His Marathi language newspaper Kesari ("Lion") brought

1
his weekly messages of Hindu nationalism to millions of Maharashtrians
never reached by any of the more moderate Anglophile leaders of Congress,
like Mehta, Wacha, or Gokhale.
Gopal Krishna Gokhale also lived in Poona and would later be honored
by Gandhi as "My Political Guru." After their first meeting, Gandhi
compared Gokhale to the healing waters of "Mother Ganges" rather than
the stormy ocean. "He gave me an affectionate welcome, and his manner
immediately won my heart."3 Gokhale's total honesty, brilliance, and integrity
inspired Gandhi's public work and political action, as did the sweet
reasonableness of his demands and the fearless moderation of his language
in appealing to British officials of every rank. At the same time, it was from
Tilak that Gandhi learned the potent power of using Hindu religious symbols,
sacred places, and festive celebrations, enlisting mass support by employing
vernacular tongues understood by India's ordinary people, most of
whom never learned a word of English. Annie Besant tried without success
to reconcile Tilak and Gokhale, whose distrust of each other would tear the
Congress apart. Gandhi's unique capacity to integrate opposites, finding
something of value in every person or party, would later allow him to rise
above the political factionalism represented by those two greatest pre-
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Gandhi's Passion
Gandhian nationalists. After they both died, he led a reunited Congress
committed to both "mainstreams" of cultural nationalism and nonviolent
reform.4
During his six months in India, in the latter half of 1896, Gandhi also
addressed audiences in Madras and Calcutta and wrote a powerful "Green
Pamphlet" about Natal's racist discrimination.5 That piece was quoted by
several Indian English newspapers and roused the ire of South African
white leaders and settlers when Reuters reported Gandhi's claim that the
South African treated Indian merchants and indentured laborers "unfairly"
and "harshly."
In December 1896, Dada Abdulla wired Gandhi first-class return tickets
to Durban for Gandhi, his wife, and children, all on the company's new
steamship Courland, an offer that was gratefully accepted. Another, older
steamship owned by Abdulla's company, the Naderi, sailed from Bombay
at the same time. The ships reached the port of Natal on the same day, and
since they had both come from Bombay they were detained for five days at
quarantine, to be sure they had brought no plague. But Gandhi and most of
the eight hundred Indians aboard believed that the long quarantine was ordered
because the white residents of Durban had been agitating for the repatriation
of all newly arrived Asiatics. White leaders were even ready to
indemnify Abdulla's company if he agreed to send both ships back. But Abdulla
was determined to "disembark the passengers at any cost."6
Gandhi believed that he was the real target, for having written his
"Green Pamphlet." And as soon as he stepped ashore in Durban, after the
quarantine lifted, he was chased by an angry mob. "They pelted me with
stones, brickbats and rotten eggs. Someone snatched away my turban,
whilst others began to batter and kick me. I fainted and caught hold of the
front railings of a house and stood there to get my breath. . . . They came
upon me boxing and battering. The wife of the Police Superintendent, who
knew me, happened to be passing by. The brave lady came up, opened her
parasol . . . and stood between the crowd and me. This checked the fury of
the mob."7
Mr. Alexander, the superintendent, was quickly notified of the assault
and led some of his men to the rescue, offering Gandhi refuge inside his station.
But Gandhi felt sure the mob would leave him alone now, so he went

2
instead with a police escort to the home of his wealthy Parsi friend, Rustomji,
where his wife had immediately gone with the boys. A doctor came
to dress his wounds and bruises. When night fell, an angry lynch mob gathered,
shouting for Gandhi, ready to break into the house if he refused to
come out. The superintendent tried to humor the mob, but warned Gandhi
to disguise himself in an officer's uniform to escape quietly from the rear alley,
saving his life and his friend's property, both of which Alexander
judged to be in jeopardy.
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