What It Means to Be a Coolie

It would be out of place here to describe fully the condition of Indians in the Transvaal and the Orange Free State. I would suggest, that those who wish to have a full idea of it may turn to my History of Satyagraha in South Africa.

It would not be appropriate to describe in full the situation of Indians in the Transvaal and the Orange Free State here. Those who want a full account may read my History of Satyagraha in South Africa.

It is, however, necessary to give here a brief outline. In the Orange Free State the Indians were deprived of all their rights by a special law enacted in 1888 or even earlier. If they chose to stay there, they could do so only to serve as waiters in hotels or to pursue some other such menial calling. The traders were driven away with a nominal compensation. They made representations and petitions, but in vain.

However, a brief outline is necessary here. In the Orange Free State, a special law passed in 1888 or earlier deprived Indians of all their rights. If they chose to stay, they could only work as hotel waiters or do similar menial work. The traders were forced out and given a token amount of compensation. They made appeals and submitted petitions, but without success.

A very stringent enactment was passed in the Transvaal in 1885. It was slightly amended in 1886, and it was provided under the amended law, that all Indians should pay a poll tax of £3 as fee for entry into the Transvaal. They might not own land except in locations set apart for them, and in practice even that was not to be ownership. They had no franchise. All this was under the special law for Asiatics, to whom the laws for the coloured people were also applied. Under these latter, Indians might not walk on public footpaths, and might not move out of doors after 9 p.m. without a permit. The enforcement of this last regulation was elastic SO far as the Indians were concerned. Those who passed as ‘Arabs’ were, as a matter of favour, exempted from it. The exemption thus naturally depended on the sweet will of the police.

A very strict law was passed in the Transvaal in 1885. It was amended slightly in 1886. Under the amended law, all Indians had to pay a £3 poll tax as a fee to enter the Transvaal. They could own land only in areas set aside for them. In practice, even this did not amount to ownership. They had no right to vote. All these restrictions came under a special law for Asiatics. The laws for coloured people also applied to them. Under those laws, Indians could not walk on public footpaths. They also could not go outdoors after 9 p.m. without a permit. This last rule was enforced flexibly for Indians. As a favour, those who passed as ‘Arabs’ were exempted from it. The exemption therefore depended on the goodwill of the police.

I had to experience the effect of both these regulations. I often went out at night for a walk with Mr. Coates, and we rarely got back home much before ten o’clock. What if the police arrested me? Mr. Coates was more concerned about this than I. He had to issue passes to his negro servants. But how could he give one to me? Only a master might issue a permit to a servant. If I had wanted one, and even if Mr. Coates had been ready to give it, he could not have done so, for it would have been fraud.

I had to experience the effects of both these regulations. I often went for walks at night with Mr. Coates, and we rarely got home much before ten o’clock. What if the police arrested me? Mr. Coates was more worried about this than I was. He had to issue passes to his Black servants. But how could he give me one? Only a master could issue a permit to a servant. Even if I had wanted a permit and Mr. Coates had been willing to give me one, he could not have done so. It would have been fraud.

So Mr. Coates or some friend of his took me to the State Attorney, Dr. Krause. We turned out to be barristers of the same Inn. The fact that I needed a pass to enable me to be out of doors after 9 p.m, was too much for him. He expressed sympathy for me. Instead of ordering for me a pass, he gave me a letter authorising me to be out of doors at all hours without police interference. I always kept this letter on me whenever I went out. The fact that I never had to make use of it was a mere accident.

So Mr. Coates or a friend of his took me to the State Attorney, Dr. Krause. We discovered that we were barristers from the same Inn of Court. He was shocked that I needed a pass to go outside after 9 p.m. He expressed sympathy for me. Instead of ordering a pass for me, he gave me a letter. It authorized me to go outside at any hour without police interference. I always carried the letter whenever I went out. It was only by chance that I never had to use it.

Dr. Krause invited me to his place, and we may be said to have become friends. I occasionally called on him, and it was through him, that I was introduced to his more famous brother, who was Public Prosecutor in Johannesburg. During the Boer War he was court-martialled for conspiring to murder an English officer, and was sentenced to imprisonment for seven years. He was also disbarred by the Benchers. On the termination of hostilities, he was released, and being honourably readmitted to the Transvaal bar, resumed practice.

Dr. Krause invited me to his home, and we might be said to have become friends. I occasionally visited him, and he introduced me to his more famous brother, the Public Prosecutor in Johannesburg. During the Boer War, his brother was tried by a military court for conspiring to murder an English officer. He was sentenced to seven years in prison. He was also disbarred by the Benchers. When the war ended, he was released. He was honorably readmitted to the Transvaal bar and resumed his practice.

These connections were useful to me later on in my public life, and simplified much of my work.

These connections helped me later in my public life and made much of my work easier.

The consequences of the regulation regarding the use of footpaths were rather serious for me. I always went out for a walk through President Street to an open plain. President Kruger’s house was in this street—a very modest, unostentatious building, without a garden, and not distinguishable from other houses in its neighbourhood. The houses of many of the millionaires in Pretoria were far more pretentious, and were surrounded by gardens. Indeed President Kruger’s simplicity was proverbial. Only the presence of a police patrol before the house indicated, that it belonged to some official. I nearly always went along the footpath past this patrol without the slightest hitch or hindrance.

The rule about using footpaths had serious consequences for me. I always went for a walk through President Street to an open plain. President Kruger’s house was on this street. It was a modest, plain building without a garden, and it looked like the other houses nearby. Many millionaires in Pretoria had much grander houses, surrounded by gardens. In fact, President Kruger was famous for his simple lifestyle. Only the police patrol outside the house suggested that it belonged to an official. I nearly always walked along the footpath past the patrol without any trouble or obstruction.

Now the man on duty used to be changed from time to time. Once one of these men, without giving me the slightest warning, without even having asked me to leave the footpath, pushed and kicked me into the street. I was dismayed. Before I could question him as to his behaviour, Mr. Coates, who happened to be passing the spot on horseback, hailed me and said:

The man on duty changed from time to time. Once, one of these men pushed and kicked me into the street. He gave me no warning and did not even ask me to leave the footpath. I was dismayed. Before I could ask him why he had done this, Mr. Coates happened to pass by on horseback. He called out to me and said:

‘Gandhi, I have seen everything. I shall gladly be your witness in court if you proceed against the man. I am very sorry you have been so rudely assaulted.’

‘Gandhi, I saw everything. I’ll gladly be your witness in court if you take legal action against the man. I’m very sorry you were treated so roughly.’

‘You need not be sorry,’ I said. ‘What does the poor man know? All coloured people are the same to him. He no doubt treats negroes just as he has treated me. I have made it a rule not to go to court in respect of any personal grievance. So I do not intend to proceed against him.’

‘You don’t need to be sorry,’ I said. ‘What does the poor man know? All people of color are the same to him. No doubt he treats Black people just as he treated me. I have made it a rule not to go to court over a personal grievance. So I do not intend to take legal action against him.’

‘That is just like you,’ said Mr. Coates, ‘but do think it over again. We must teach such men a lesson.’ He then spoke to the policeman and reprimanded him. I could not follow their talk, as it was in Dutch, the policeman being a Boer. But he apologised to me, for which there was no need. I had already forgiven him.

‘That’s just like you,’ said Mr. Coates, ‘but please think it over again. We must teach such men a lesson.’ He then spoke to the policeman and scolded him. I could not understand their conversation because they spoke Dutch. The policeman was a Boer. But he apologized to me, though there was no need. I had already forgiven him.

But I never again went through this street. There would be other men coming in this man’s place, and ignorant of the incident, they would behave likewise. Why should I unnecessarily court another kick? I therefore selected a different walk. The incident deepened my feeling for the Indian settlers. I discussed with them the advisability of making a test case, if it were found necessary to do so, after having seen the British Agent in the matter of these regulations.

But I never walked down that street again. Other men would take his place and, unaware of the incident, would behave the same way. Why should I needlessly risk another kick? So I chose a different route. The incident deepened my sympathy for the Indian settlers. I discussed with them whether to bring a test case, if necessary, after seeing the British Agent about these regulations.

I thus made an intimate study of the hard condition of the Indian settlers, not only by reading and hearing about it, but by personal experience. I saw that South Africa was no country for a self-respecting Indian, and my mind became more and more occupied with the question as to how this state of things might be improved.

I came to know the harsh conditions Indian settlers faced, not just through reading and hearing about them, but through personal experience. I saw that South Africa was no place for a self-respecting Indian. I increasingly thought about how these conditions might be improved.

But my principal duty for the moment was to attend to the case of Dada Abdulla.

But for the moment, my main duty was to handle Dada Abdulla's case.