Part 2, Chapter 17
Settled in Natal
Sheth Haji Muhammad Haji Dada was regarded as the foremost leader of the Indian community in Natal in 1893. Financially Sheth Abdulla Haji Adam was the chief among them, but he and others always gave the first place to Sheth Haji Muhammad in public affairs. A meeting was therefore held under his presidentship at the house of Abdulla Sheth, at which it was resolved to offer opposition to the Franchise Bill.
In 1893, Sheth Haji Muhammad Haji Dada was considered the leading figure in Natal’s Indian community. Sheth Abdulla Haji Adam was the wealthiest among them. But he and the others always gave Sheth Haji Muhammad the leading role in public affairs. A meeting was therefore held at Abdulla Sheth’s house, with Sheth Haji Muhammad presiding. Those present decided to oppose the Franchise Bill.
Volunteers were enrolled. Natal-born Indians, that is mostly Christian Indian youths, had been invited to attend this meeting. Mr. Paul, the Durban Court Interpreter, and Mr. Subhan Godfrey, Headmaster of a Mission School, were present, and it was they, who were responsible for bringing together at the meeting a good number of Christian youths. All these enrolled themselves as volunteers.
Volunteers signed up. Indians born in Natal, mostly young Christians, had been invited to the meeting. Mr. Paul, the Durban Court Interpreter, and Mr. Subhan Godfrey, headmaster of a Mission School, were present. They had brought a good number of young Christians to the meeting. All of these young people signed up as volunteers.
Many of the local merchants were of course enrolled, noteworthy among them being Sheths Dawud Muhammad, Muhammad Kasam Kamruddin, Adamji Miyakhan, A. Kolandavellu Pillay, C. Lachhiram, Rangasami Padiachi, and Amod Jiva. Parsi Rustomji was of course there. From among the clerks were Messrs Manekji, Joshi, Narsinhram, and others, employees of Dada Abdulla and Co., and other big firms. They were all agreeably surprised to find themselves taking a share in public work. To be invited thus to take part was a new experience in their lives. In face of the calamity that had overtaken the community, all distinctions such as high and low, small and great, master and servant, Hindus, Musalmans, Parsis, Christians, Gujaratis, Madrasis, Sindhis etc., were forgotten. All were alike the children and servants of the motherland.
Many local merchants were, of course, enrolled. Notable among them were Sheths Dawud Muhammad, Muhammad Kasam Kamruddin, Adamji Miyakhan, A. Kolandavellu Pillay, C. Lachhiram, Rangasami Padiachi, and Amod Jiva. Parsi Rustomji was, of course, there too. The clerks included Messrs Manekji, Joshi, Narsinhram, and others employed by Dada Abdulla and Co. and other large firms. They were all pleasantly surprised to find themselves taking part in public work. Being invited to take part in this way was a new experience for them. Faced with the disaster that had struck the community, everyone forgot the distinctions between high and low, great and small, master and servant, Hindu, Muslim, Parsi, Christian, Gujarati, Madrasi, Sindhi, and so on. All were equally children and servants of the motherland.
The Bill had already passed, or was about to pass, its second reading. In the speeches on the occasion, the fact, that Indians had expressed no opposition to the stringent Bill, was urged as proof of their unfitness for the franchise.
The Bill had already passed its second reading, or was about to do so. In their speeches, speakers argued that Indians had not opposed the strict Bill. They claimed this was proof that Indians were unfit to vote.
I explained the situation to the meeting. The first thing we did was to despatch a telegram to the Speaker of the Assembly requesting him to postpone further discussion of the Bill. A similar telegram was sent to the Premier, Sir John Robinson, and another to Mr. Escombe, as a friend of Dada Abdulla’s. The Speaker promptly replied that discussion of the Bill would be postponed for two days. This gladdened our hearts.
I explained the situation to the meeting. First, we sent a telegram to the Speaker of the Assembly, asking him to postpone further discussion of the Bill. We sent a similar telegram to the Premier, Sir John Robinson. We sent another to Mr. Escombe, a friend of Dada Abdulla’s. The Speaker replied promptly that discussion of the Bill would be postponed for two days. This made us happy.
The petition to be presented to the Legislative Assembly was drawn up. Three copies had to be prepared and one extra was needed for the press. It was also proposed to obtain as many signatures to it as possible, and all this work had to be done in the course of a night. The volunteers with a knowledge of English and several others sat up the whole night. Mr. Arthur, an old man, who was known for his calligraphy, wrote the principal copy. The rest were written by others to some one’s dictation. Five copies were thus got ready simultaneously. Merchant volunteers went out in their own carriages, or carriages whose hire they had paid, to obtain signatures to the petition. This was accomplished in quick time and the petition was despatched. The newspapers published it with favourable comments. It likewise created an impression on the Assembly. It was discussed in the House. Partisans of the Bill offered a defence,—an admittedly lame one,—in reply to the arguments advanced in the petition. The Bill, however, was passed.
The petition to be presented to the Legislative Assembly was drafted. Three copies had to be prepared, and an extra copy was needed for the press. We also planned to collect as many signatures as possible. All this work had to be done in one night. The volunteers who knew English and several others stayed up all night. Mr. Arthur, an old man known for his fine handwriting, wrote the main copy. Others wrote the remaining copies as someone dictated. In this way, five copies were prepared at the same time. Merchant volunteers went out to collect signatures for the petition. They traveled in their own carriages or in carriages they had hired. The signatures were collected quickly, and the petition was sent off. The newspapers published the petition with favorable comments. It also made an impression on the Assembly and was discussed in the House. Supporters of the Bill defended it against the petition’s arguments, though they admitted their defense was weak. The Bill, however, was passed.
We all knew, that this was a foregone conclusion, but the agitation had infused new life into the community, and had brought home to them the conviction, that the community was one and indivisible, and that it was as much their duty to fight for its political rights as for its trading rights.
We all knew the outcome was certain. But the campaign had brought new life to the community. It had convinced its members that the community was united and indivisible. They saw that fighting for its political rights was as much their duty as fighting for its trading rights.
Lord Ripon was at this time Secretary of State for the Colonies. It was decided to submit to him a monster petition. This was no small task, and could not be done in a day. Volunteers were enlisted, and all did their due share of the work.
Lord Ripon was then Secretary of State for the Colonies. It was decided to submit a massive petition to him. Preparing the petition was no small task and could not be done in a day. Volunteers were recruited, and all did their share of the work.
I took considerable pains over drawing up this petition. I read all the literature available on the subject. My argument centred round a principle and an expedience. I argued, that we had a right to the franchise in Natal, as we had a kind of franchise in India. I urged, that it was expedient to retain it, as the Indian population capable of using the franchise was very small.
I took great care in drafting this petition. I read all the available literature on the subject. My argument rested on both principle and practical considerations. I argued that we had a right to vote in Natal because we had a kind of voting right in India. I also argued that it was practical to keep that right, since very few Indians were able to vote.
Ten thousand signatures were obtained in the course of a fortnight. To secure this number of signatures from the whole of the province was no light task, especially when we consider that the men were perfect strangers to the work. Specially competent volunteers had to be selected for the work, as it had been decided not to take a single signature without the signatory fully understanding the petition. The villages were scattered at long distances. The work could be done promptly, only if a number of workers put their whole heart into it. And this they did. All carried out their allotted task with enthusiasm. But as I am writing these lines, the figures of Sheth Dawud Muhammad, Rustomji, Adamji Miyakhan, and Amod Jiva rise clearly before my mind. They brought in the largest number of signatures. Dawud Sheth kept going about in his carriage the whole day. And it was all a labour of love, not one of them asking for even his out of pocket expenses. Dada Abdulla’s house became at once a caravanserai and a public office. A number of educated friends who helped me, and many others had their food there. Thus every helper was put to considerable expense.
Ten thousand signatures were collected in two weeks. Getting that many signatures from across the province was no easy task. The men were completely new to this kind of work. We had decided not to accept a single signature unless the person signing fully understood the petition. So we had to select especially capable volunteers. The villages were far apart. The work could be done quickly only if many workers put their whole hearts into it. And they did. Everyone carried out their assigned task with enthusiasm. But as I write these lines, I can clearly picture Sheth Dawud Muhammad, Rustomji, Adamji Miyakhan, and Amod Jiva. They brought in the most signatures. Dawud Sheth spent the whole day traveling in his carriage. It was all a labor of love. None of them asked to be reimbursed even for their own expenses. Dada Abdulla’s house became both a lodging place for travelers and a public office. Several educated friends who helped me ate there, as did many others. In this way, every helper went to considerable expense.
The petition was at last submitted. A thousand copies had been printed for circulation and distribution. It acquainted the Indian public for the first time with conditions in Natal. I sent copies to all the newspapers and publicists I knew.
The petition was finally submitted. A thousand copies had been printed to circulate and distribute. The petition informed the Indian public about conditions in Natal for the first time. I sent copies to all the newspapers and public commentators I knew.
The Times of India, in a leading article on the petition, strongly supported the Indian demands. Copies were sent to journals and publicists in England representing different parties. The London Times supported our claims, and we began to entertain hopes of the Bill being vetoed.
The Times of India strongly supported the Indian demands in an editorial about the petition. Copies were sent to publications and public commentators in England who represented different parties. The London Times supported our claims, and we began to hope the Bill would be vetoed.
It was now impossible for me to leave Natal. The Indian friends surrounded me on all sides, and importuned me to remain there permanently. I expressed my difficulties. I had made up my mind not to stay at public expense. I felt it necessary to set up an independent household. I thought that the house should be good, and situated in a good locality. I also had the idea, that I could not add to the credit of the community, unless I lived in a style usual for barristers. And it seemed to me to be impossible to run such a household with anything less than £300 a year. I therefore decided, that I could stay, only if the members of the community guaranteed legal work to the extent of that minimum, and I communicated my decision to them.
It was now impossible for me to leave Natal. My Indian friends surrounded me and urged me to stay there permanently. I explained my difficulties. I had decided not to stay at public expense. I felt I needed to set up a household of my own. I thought the house should be good and in a good neighborhood. I also believed that I could not enhance the community's reputation unless I lived in the style usual for barristers. It seemed impossible to maintain such a household on less than £300 a year. So I decided I could stay only if members of the community guaranteed me at least that much in legal work. I told them of my decision.
‘But,’ said they, ‘we should like you to draw that amount for public work, and we can easily collect it. Of course this is apart from the fees you must charge for private legal work.’
‘But,’ they said, ‘we would like you to receive that amount for public work, and we can easily raise it. Of course, that is separate from the fees you must charge for private legal work.’
‘No, I could not thus charge you for public work,’ said I. ‘The work would not involve the exercise on my part of much skill as barrister. My work would be mainly to make you all work. And how could I charge you for that? And then I should have to appeal to you frequently for funds for the work, and if I were to draw my maintenance from you, I should find myself at a disadvantage in making an appeal for large amounts, and we should ultimately find ourselves at a standstill. Besides I want the community to find more than £300 annually for public work.’
‘No, I could not charge you for public work in that way,’ I said. ‘The work would not require much of my skill as a barrister. My main job would be to get you all to work. And how could I charge you for that? I would also have to ask you frequently for funds for the work. If you paid for my living expenses, I would find it harder to ask for large amounts. We would eventually find ourselves unable to move forward. Besides, I want the community to provide more than £300 a year for public work.’
‘But we have now known you for some time, and are sure you would not draw anything you do not need. And if we wanted you to stay here, should we not find your expenses?’
‘But we have known you for some time now. We are sure you would not take more than you need. And if we wanted you to stay here, wouldn't we cover your expenses?’
‘It is your love and present enthusiasm, that make you talk like this. How can we be sure, that this love and enthusiasm will endure for ever? And as your friend and servant, I should occasionally have to say hard things to you. Heaven only knows, whether I should then retain your affection. But the fact is, that I must not accept any salary for public work. It is enough for me, that you should all agree to entrust me with your legal work. Even that may be hard for you. For one thing I am not a white barrister. How can I be sure that the court will respond to me? Nor can I be sure how I shall fare as a lawyer. So even in giving me retainers you may be running some risk. I should regard even the fact of your giving them to me as the reward of my public work.’
‘Your love and enthusiasm right now make you speak this way. How can we be sure that they will last forever? As your friend and servant, I would sometimes have to say hard things to you. Heaven only knows whether you would still feel affection for me then. But the fact is that I must not accept a salary for public work. It is enough for me if you all agree to trust me with your legal work. Even that may be hard for you. For one thing, I am not a white barrister. How can I be sure the court will respond to me? Nor can I be sure how well I will do as a lawyer. So even by paying me retainers, you may be taking a risk. I would regard your retainers as a reward for my public work.’
The upshot of this discussion was, that about twenty merchants gave me retainers for one year for their legal work. Besides this, Dada Abdulla purchased me the necessary furniture in lieu of a purse he had intended to give me on my departure.
As a result of the discussion, about twenty merchants hired me as their lawyer for one year. Dada Abdulla also bought me the furniture I needed. He had intended to give me a purse of money when I left, but gave me the furniture instead.
Thus I settled in Natal.
So I settled in Natal.