Part 5, Chapter 33
‘A Himalayan Mistake’
Almost immediately after the Ahmedabad meeting I went to Nadiad. It was here that I first used the expression ‘Himalayan miscalculation’ which obtained such a wide currency afterwards. Even at Ahmedabad I had begun to have a dim perception of my mistake. But when I reached Nadiad and saw the actual state of things there, and heard reports about a large number of people from Kheda district having been arrested, it suddenly dawned upon me, that I had committed a grave error in calling upon the people in the Kheda district and elsewhere to launch upon civil disobedience prematurely, as it now seemed to me. I was addressing a public meeting. My confession brought down upon me no small amount of ridicule. But I have never regretted having made that confession. For I have always held that it is only when one sees one’s own mistakes with a convex lens, and does just the reverse in the case of others, that one is able to arrive at a just relative estimate of the two. I further believe, that a scrupulous and conscientious observance of this rule is necessary for one who wants to be a Satyagrahi.
Almost immediately after the Ahmedabad meeting, I went to Nadiad. There I first used the expression ‘Himalayan miscalculation’, which later became so widely known. Even in Ahmedabad, I had begun to sense that I had made a mistake. But in Nadiad, I saw the actual state of affairs and heard that many people from Kheda district had been arrested. It suddenly dawned on me that I had made a serious error. I had called on people in Kheda district and elsewhere to begin civil disobedience too soon, as it now seemed to me. I made this confession at a public meeting, and it brought me a good deal of ridicule. But I have never regretted making it. I have always believed that we can fairly judge our own mistakes against those of others only by magnifying our own mistakes and doing the reverse with those of others. I also believe that anyone who wants to be a Satyagrahi must follow this rule carefully and conscientiously.
Let us now see what that Himalayan miscalculation was. Before one can be fit for the practice of civil disobedience one must have rendered a willing and respectful obedience to the state laws. For the most part we obey such laws out of fear of the penalty for their breach, and this holds good particularly in respect of such laws as do not involve a moral principle. For instance, an honest, respectable man will not suddenly take to stealing irrespective of whether there is a law against stealing or not, but this very man will not feel any remorse for failure to observe the rule about carrying head-lights on bicycles after dark. Indeed, it is doubtful whether he would at once take kindly to advice about being more careful in this respect. But he would observe any obligatory rule of this kind, if only to escape the inconvenience of facing a prosecution for a breach of the rule. Such compliance will not however constitute the willing and spontaneous obedience that is required of a Satyagrahi. A Satyagrahi obeys the laws of society intelligently and of his own free will, because he considers it to be his sacred duty to do so. It is only when a person has thus obeyed the laws of society scrupulously that he is in a position to judge as to which particular rules are good and just, and which unjust and iniquitous. Only then does the right accrue to him of the civil disobedience of certain laws in well defined circumstances. My error lay in my failure to observe this necessary limitation. I had called upon the people to launch upon civil disobedience before they had thus qualified themselves for it, and this mistake of mine seemed to me to be of a Himalayan magnitude. As soon as I entered the Kheda district, all the old recollections of the Kheda Satyagraha struggle came back to me, and I wondered how I could have failed to perceive what was so obvious. I realised, that before a people could be fit for offering civil disobedience, they should thoroughly understand its deeper implications.
Let us now see what that Himalayan miscalculation was. Before people are fit to practice civil disobedience, they must have willingly and respectfully obeyed the laws of the state. For the most part, we obey such laws because we fear the penalty for breaking them. This is especially true of laws that do not involve a moral principle. For example, an honest, respectable man will not suddenly start stealing, whether or not there is a law against it. But the same man will feel no remorse for failing to use a bicycle headlight after dark. Indeed, it is doubtful whether he would readily welcome advice to be more careful about this. Yet he would follow any such rule that was required, if only to avoid the trouble of being prosecuted for breaking it. Such compliance, however, is not the willing and spontaneous obedience required of a Satyagrahi. A Satyagrahi obeys the laws of society thoughtfully and freely, because he considers it his sacred duty. Only when a person has obeyed society’s laws carefully in this way can he judge which rules are good and just, and which are unjust and wicked. Only then does he gain the right to disobey certain laws civilly, in clearly defined circumstances. My error was that I failed to respect this necessary limit. I had called on the people to begin civil disobedience before they had qualified themselves for it. This mistake seemed to me to be of Himalayan magnitude. As soon as I entered the Kheda district, all my old memories of the Kheda Satyagraha struggle came back to me. I wondered how I could have failed to see what was so obvious. I realized that before a people could be fit to practice civil disobedience, they must thoroughly understand its deeper implications.
But it may be rightly argued: How can a people who are in the habit of frequently evading laws, as most people are, suddenly grasp the significance of civil disobedience, or keep themselves within its strict bounds? I admit, that it is no easy matter for thousands and hundreds of thousands of people to fulfil the ideal conditions mentioned above. That being so, before re-starting civil disobedience on a mass scale, it would be necessary to create a band of well-tried, pure-hearted volunteers who thoroughly understood the strict conditions of Satyagraha. They could explain these to the people, and by sleepless vigilance keep them on to the right path.
But one might rightly ask: Most people often evade laws. How can they suddenly understand the meaning of civil disobedience and stay within its strict limits? I admit that it is not easy for thousands or hundreds of thousands of people to meet the ideal conditions mentioned above. So, before restarting civil disobedience on a mass scale, we would need a group of well-tested, pure-hearted volunteers. These volunteers would need to understand the strict conditions of Satyagraha thoroughly. They could explain those conditions to the people and, through constant vigilance, keep them on the right path.
With these thoughts filling my mind I reached Bombay, through the Satyagraha Sabha there raised a corps of Satyagrahi volunteers, and with their help commenced the work of educating the people with regard to the meaning and inner significance of Satyagraha. This was principally done by issuing leaflets of an educative character bearing on the subject.
With these thoughts on my mind, I arrived in Bombay. Through the Satyagraha Sabha there, I gathered a corps of Satyagrahi volunteers. With their help, I began educating people about the meaning and inner significance of Satyagraha. We did this mainly by distributing educational leaflets on the subject.
But whilst this work was going on, I could see that it was a difficult task to interest the people in the peaceful side of Satyagraha. The volunteers too failed to enlist themselves in large numbers. Nor did all those who actually enlisted take anything like a regular systematic training, and as the days passed by, the number of fresh recruits began gradually to dwindle instead of to grow. I realised, that the progress of the training in civil disobedience was not going to be as rapid as I had at first expected.
But while this work was going on, I could see that it was hard to interest people in the peaceful side of Satyagraha. Volunteers did not enlist in large numbers either. And not all those who enlisted received anything like regular, systematic training. As the days passed, the number of new recruits gradually began to shrink rather than grow. I realized that training in civil disobedience would not progress as quickly as I had first expected.