Coolie Locations or Ghettos?

Some of the classes which render us the greatest social service, and which we Hindus have chosen to regard as ‘untouchables,’ are relegated to remote quarters of a town or a village, called in Gujarati dhedhvado and the name has acquired a bad odour. Even so in Christian Europe the Jews were once its ‘untouchables,’ and the quarters that were assigned to them had the offensive name of ‘ghettoes.’ In a similar way today we have become the untouchables of South Africa. It remains to be seen how far the sacrifice of Andrews and the magic wand of Shastri succeed in rehabilitating us.

Some of the groups that provide us with the greatest social services are regarded by us Hindus as ‘untouchables.’ We confine them to remote parts of a town or village, called dhedhvado in Gujarati. The name has acquired a bad reputation. Similarly, Jews were once the ‘untouchables’ of Christian Europe. The neighborhoods assigned to them were given the offensive name ‘ghettoes.’ In the same way, we have become the untouchables of South Africa today. It remains to be seen how far Andrews’s sacrifice and Shastri’s magic wand will succeed in restoring our standing.

The ancient Jews regarded themselves as the chosen people of God, to the exclusion of all others, with the result that their descendants were visited with a strange and even unjust retribution. Almost in a similar way the Hindus have considered themselves Aryas or civilised, and a section of their own kith and kin as Anaryas or untouchables, with the result that a strange, if unjust, nemesis is being visited not only upon the Hindus in South Africa, but the Musalmans and Parsis as well, inasmuch as they belong to the same country and have the same colour as their Hindu brethren.

The ancient Jews regarded themselves as God’s chosen people, to the exclusion of all others. As a result, their descendants suffered a strange and even unjust punishment. In much the same way, Hindus have regarded themselves as Aryas, or civilized people. They have regarded some of their own people as Anaryas, or untouchables. As a result, a strange, if unjust, punishment is now falling not only on Hindus in South Africa. Musalmans and Parsis suffer it too, because they come from the same country and have the same skin color as their Hindu brothers.

The reader will have now realised to some extent the meaning of the word ‘locations’ with which I have headed this chapter. In South Africa we have acquired the odious name of ‘coolies.’ The word ‘coolie’ in India means only a porter or carrier, but in South Africa it has a contemptuous connotation. It means what a pariah or an untouchable means to us, and the quarters assigned to the ‘coolies’ are known as ‘coolie locations.’ Johannesburg had one such location, but unlike the other places where there were locations and where the Indians had tenancy rights, in the Johannesburg location the Indians had acquired their plots on a lease of 99 years. People were densely packed in the location, the area of which never increased with the increase in population. Beyond arranging to clean the latrines in the location in a haphazard way, the Municipality did nothing to provide any sanitary facilities, much less good roads or lights. It was hardly likely that it would safeguard its sanitation, when it was indifferent to the welfare of the people. The Indians living there were too ignorant of the rules of municipal sanitation and hygiene to do without the help or supervision of the Municipality. If those who went there had all been Robinson Crusoes theirs would have been a different story. But we do not know of a single emigrant colony of Robinson Crusoes in the world. Usually people migrate abroad in search of wealth and trade, and the bulk of the Indians who went to South Africa were ignorant, pauper agriculturists who needed all the care and protection that could be given them. The traders and educated Indians who followed them were very few.

The reader will now understand to some extent why I have titled this chapter ‘locations.’ In South Africa we have acquired the hateful name ‘coolies.’ In India, the word ‘coolie’ means only a porter or carrier. But in South Africa it is a term of contempt. It means what a pariah or an untouchable means to us, and the neighborhoods assigned to ‘coolies’ are called ‘coolie locations.’ Johannesburg had one such location. In other places with locations, Indians had tenancy rights. But in the Johannesburg location, Indians had acquired their plots on 99-year leases. People were crowded into the location, but its area never grew as the population increased. The Municipality arranged for the latrines to be cleaned, though in a haphazard way. Beyond that, it provided no sanitary facilities, let alone good roads or lighting. When the Municipality was indifferent to the people’s welfare, it was hardly likely to protect their sanitary conditions. The Indians living there knew too little about municipal sanitation and hygiene to manage without the Municipality’s help or supervision. If everyone who went there had been a Robinson Crusoe, the story would have been different. But we do not know of a single emigrant colony of Robinson Crusoes anywhere in the world. Usually people migrate abroad in search of wealth and trade. Most Indians who went to South Africa were poor farmers with little knowledge. They needed all the care and protection they could be given. Very few traders and educated Indians followed them.

The criminal negligence of the Municipality and the ignorance of the Indian settlers thus conspired to render the location thoroughly insanitary. The Municipality, far from doing anything to improve the condition of the location, used the insanitation, caused by their own neglect, as a lever for destroying the location, and for that purpose obtained from the local legislature authority to dispossess the settlers. This was the condition of things when I settled in Johannesburg.

The Municipality’s criminal negligence and the ignorance of the Indian settlers together made the settlement thoroughly unsanitary. The Municipality did nothing to improve conditions there. Instead, it used the unsanitary conditions caused by its own neglect as a pretext to destroy the settlement. For that purpose, it obtained authority from the local legislature to take the settlers’ land away from them. This was the situation when I settled in Johannesburg.

The settlers, having proprietary rights in their land, were naturally entitled to compensation. A special tribunal was appointed to try the land acquisition cases. If the tenant was not prepared to accept the offer of the Municipality he had a right to appeal to the tribunal, and if the latter’s award exceeded the Municipality’s offer, the Municipality had to bear the costs.

The settlers had property rights in their land, so they were naturally entitled to compensation. A special tribunal was appointed to decide land acquisition cases. If a tenant was unwilling to accept the Municipality’s offer, the tenant could appeal to the tribunal. If the tribunal awarded more than the Municipality had offered, the Municipality had to pay the costs.

Most of the tenants had engaged me as their legal adviser. I had no desire to make money out of these cases, so I told the tenants that I should be satisfied with whatever costs the tribunal awarded, in case they won, and a fee of £10 on every lease, irrespective of the result of the case. I also told them that I proposed to set apart half of the money paid by them for the building of a hospital or similar institution for the poor. This naturally pleased them all.

Most of the tenants had hired me as their legal adviser. I did not want to make money from these cases. So I told the tenants I would be satisfied with any costs the tribunal awarded if they won. I would also charge £10 for each lease, whatever the outcome of the case. I told them I planned to set aside half the money they paid me. It would go toward building a hospital or a similar institution for the poor. This naturally pleased them all.

Out of about 70 cases only one was lost. So the fees amounted to a fairly big figure. But Indian Opinion was there with its persistent claim and devoured, so far as I can recollect, a sum of £1,600. I had worked hard for these cases. The clients always surrounded me. Most of them were originally indentured labourers from Bihar and its neighbourhood and from South India. For the redress of their peculiar grievances they had formed an association of their own, separate from that of the free Indian merchants and traders. Some of them were open-hearted, liberal men of high character. Their leaders were Sjt. Jairamsing, the president, and Sjt. Badri, who was as good as the president. Both of them are now no more. They were exceedingly helpful to me. Sjt. Badri came in very close contact with me and took a prominent part in Satyagraha. Through these and other friends I came in intimate contact with numerous Indian settlers of North and South India. I became more their brother than a mere legal adviser, and shared in all their private and public sorrows and hardships.

Of about 70 cases, only one was lost. So the fees added up to a fairly large sum. But Indian Opinion continued to need money and swallowed up £1,600, as far as I can remember. I had worked hard on these cases. My clients were always around me. Most had originally been indentured labourers from Bihar and the surrounding area, and from South India. They had formed their own association to address their particular grievances. It was separate from the association of free Indian merchants and traders. Some of them were open-hearted, generous men of high character. Their leaders were Sjt. Jairamsing, the president, and Sjt. Badri, who was as good as the president. Both have since died. They were extremely helpful to me. Sjt. Badri became very close to me and played a prominent part in Satyagraha. Through these and other friends, I came into close contact with many Indian settlers from North and South India. I became more of a brother to them than a mere legal adviser. I shared in all their private and public sorrows and hardships.

It may be of some interest to know how the Indians used to name me. Abdulla Sheth refused to address me as Gandhi. None, fortunately, ever insulted me by calling or regarding me as ‘saheb.’ Abdulla Sheth hit upon a fine appellation—‘bhai,’ i. e., brother. Others copied him and continued to address me as ‘bhai’ until the moment I left South Africa, but there was а still sweeter flavour about the name when it was used by the ex-indentured Indians.

It may be interesting to know what the Indians used to call me. Abdulla Sheth refused to call me Gandhi. Fortunately, no one ever insulted me by calling me or treating me as ‘saheb.’ Abdulla Sheth chose a fine name: ‘bhai,’ i. e., brother. Others followed his example and called me ‘bhai’ until I left South Africa. But the name sounded even sweeter when it came from Indians who had been indentured laborers.