Preparing for South Africa

I was no doubt at fault in having gone to that officer. But his impatience and overbearing anger were out of all proportion to my mistake. It did not warrant expulsion. I can scarcely have taken up more than five minutes of his time. But he simply could not endure my talking. He could have politely asked me to go, but power had intoxicated him to an inordinate extent. Later I came to know that patience was not one of the virtues of this officer. It was usual for him to insult his visitors. The slightest unpleasantness was sure to put the sahib out.

I was certainly wrong to go to that officer. But his impatience and overbearing anger were far out of proportion to my mistake. My mistake did not justify throwing me out. I can hardly have taken more than five minutes of his time. But he simply could not stand listening to me. He could have politely asked me to leave, but power had gone far too much to his head. Later, I learned that patience was not one of this officer’s virtues. He regularly insulted his visitors. The slightest unpleasantness was sure to upset the sahib.

Now most of my work would naturally be in his court. It was beyond me to conciliate him. I had no desire to curry favour with him. Indeed, having once threatened to proceed against him, I did not like to remain silent.

Now, most of my work would naturally be in his court. I could not win him over. I had no desire to seek his favor. In fact, having once threatened to take action against him, I did not want to remain silent.

Meanwhile I began to learn something of the petty politics of the country. Kathiawad, being a conglomeration of small states, naturally had its rich crop of politicals. Petty intrigues between states, and intrigues of officers for power were the order of the day. Princes were always at the mercy of others and ready to lend their ears to sycophants. Even the sahib’s peon had to be cajoled, and the sahib’s shirastedar was more than his master, as he was his eyes, his ears and his interpreter. The shirastedar’s will was law, and his income was always reputed to be more than the sahib’s. This may have been an exaggeration, but he certainly lived beyond his salary.

Meanwhile, I began to learn something about the country’s petty politics. Kathiawad was a collection of small states, so it naturally had plenty of political agents. Petty intrigues between states and power struggles among officials were common. Princes were always at the mercy of others and ready to listen to flatterers. Even the sahib’s peon had to be persuaded with flattery. The sahib’s shirastedar had more power than his master, because he was his eyes, ears, and interpreter. The shirastedar’s word was law, and his income was said to be greater than the sahib’s. That may have been an exaggeration, but he certainly lived beyond what his salary could support.

This atmosphere appeared to me to be poisonous, and how to remain unscathed was a perpetual problem for me.

This atmosphere seemed poisonous to me, and I constantly struggled to figure out how to avoid being harmed by it.

I was thoroughly depressed and my brother clearly saw it. We both felt, that if I could secure some job, I should be free from this atmosphere of intrigue. But without intrigue a ministership or judgeship was out of the question. And the quarrel with the sahib stood in the way of my practice.

I was deeply depressed, and my brother could see it. We both felt that if I could find a job, I would be free from this atmosphere of intrigue. But without intrigue, a post as a minister or judge was out of the question. And my quarrel with the sahib stood in the way of my legal practice.

Porbandar was then under administration, and I had some work there in the shape of securing more powers for the prince. Also I had to see the Administrator in respect of the heavy vighoti (land rent) exacted from the Mers. This officer, though an Indian, was, I found, one better than the sahib in arrogance. He was able, but the ryots appeared to me to be none the better off for his ability. I succeeded in securing a few more powers for the Rana, but hardly any relief for the Mers. It struck me that their cause was not even carefully gone into.

Porbandar was then under administration, and I had work there to secure more powers for the prince. I also had to see the Administrator about the heavy vighoti (land rent) charged to the Mers. Though the Administrator was Indian, I found him even more arrogant than a sahib. He was capable, but the tenant farmers seemed to me to be no better off for his ability. I succeeded in securing a few more powers for the Rana, but hardly any relief for the Mers. It seemed to me that their case had not even been examined carefully.

So even in this mission I was comparatively disappointed. I thought justice was not done to my clients but I had not the means to secure it. At the most I could have appealed to the Political Agent or to the Governor who would have dismissed the appeal saying, ‘we decline to interfere.’ If there had been any rule or regulation governing such decisions, it would have been something, but here the sahib’s will was law.

So I was somewhat disappointed in this mission too. I believed my clients had not received justice, but I had no way to secure it for them. At most, I could have appealed to the Political Agent or the Governor. But either would have dismissed the appeal, saying, ‘we decline to interfere.’ If there had been a rule or regulation governing such decisions, that would have been something. But here, the sahib’s will was law.

I was exasperated.

I was extremely frustrated.

In the meantime a Meman firm from Porbandar wrote to my brother making the following offer: ‘We have business in South Africa. Ours is a big firm, and we have a big case there in the Court, our claim being £40,000. It has been going on for a long time. We have engaged the services of the best vakils and barristers. If you sent your brother there, he would be useful to us and also to himself. He would be able to instruct our counsel better than ourselves. And he would have the advantage of seeing a new part of the world, and of making new acquaintances.’

Meanwhile, a Meman firm from Porbandar wrote to my brother with an offer: ‘We have a large business in South Africa and a major court case there. Our claim is for £40,000, and the case has been going on for a long time. We have hired the best vakils and barristers. If you sent your brother there, he would be useful to us and would also benefit himself. He could give our lawyers better instructions than we can. He would also have the chance to see a new part of the world and make new acquaintances.’

My brother discussed the proposition with me. I could not clearly make out whether I had simply to instruct the counsel, or to appear in Court. But I was tempted.

My brother discussed the proposal with me. I wasn’t sure whether I only had to advise the lawyer or appear in court. But I was tempted.

My brother introduced me to the late Sheth Abdul Karim Jhaveri, a partner of Dada Abdulla and Co., the firm in question. ‘It won’t be a difficult job,’ the Sheth assured me. ‘We have big Europeans as our friends, whose acquaintance you will make. You can be useful to us in our shop. Much of our correspondence is in English and you can help us with that too. You will, of course, be our guest and hence will have no expense whatever.’

My brother introduced me to the late Sheth Abdul Karim Jhaveri, a partner in Dada Abdulla and Co., the firm involved. ‘It won’t be a difficult job,’ the Sheth assured me. ‘We have influential European friends, and you will meet them. You can be useful to us in our shop. Much of our correspondence is in English, and you can help us with it too. You will, of course, be our guest, so you will have no expenses at all.’

‘How long do you require my services?’ I asked. ‘And what will be the payment?’

‘How long do you need me to work for you?’ I asked. ‘And how much will you pay me?’

‘Not more than a year. We will pay you a first class return fare and a sum of £105, all found.’

‘No more than a year. We will pay for your first-class return trip, plus £105, with all expenses covered.’

This was hardly going there as a barrister. It was going as a servant of the firm. But I wanted somehow to leave India. There was also the tempting opportunity of seeing a new country, and of having new experience. Also I could send £105 to my brother and help in the expenses of the household. I closed with the offer without any higgling, and got ready to go to South Africa.

This was hardly going as a barrister. I was going as a servant of the firm. But I wanted to leave India somehow. The chance to see a new country and gain new experience was also tempting. I could also send £105 to my brother to help with household expenses. I accepted the offer without bargaining and got ready to go to South Africa.