“When a thing is true, there is no need to use any arguments to substantiate it,” wrote Vinoba Bhave. Oh really?

Like so many of the wonderful aphorisms spun by Gandhians about the nature of truth (and, principally, by Gandhi-ji himself) this inspiring line from Vinoba-ji is itself true only in the most metaphysical and therefore trivial sense. Truth, it seems, isn’t a requirement for a socially, politically, or spiritually stirring catch-phrase, even when the very subject is truth.

Naturally, we give guys like Gandhi-ji and Vinoba-ji the benefit of the doubt. They were not only among the most brilliant men of the twentieth century, but were impressive in both the purity of their motivations and clarity of their ethics. The moral certitude of the line quoted above would, however, feel quite a bit sketchier were if it were attributed to, say, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, or George W. Bush, all of whom might be equally plausible authors.

There are good reasons not to be too hard on Vinoba-ji. Sure, he failed to recognize that almost all the fun lies in the argument and very little of it resides in the ultimate truth of the matter. But fun wasn’t really his big thing. And we must readily acknowledge that it is convenient to be able to offer the occasional pronouncement without having to “show your work”, as though all of life were a high school math exam.

I spew this kind of unsubstantiated crap all the time. Sometimes I get called on it; often, when the things I say have the veneer (if not the deep resonance) of truth, I get away with it. Which brings us back to Vinoba-ji – and to our story.

I live half of each year in the country Gandhi-ji and his faithful lieutenant, Vinoba-ji, made. India fascinates and perplexes me; and I find nothing more confounding than the paucity of ethical (or even effective) political leadership in the place that gave the world these two great men. I am fond of underscoring the tragic irony of India’s useless political cesspool by questioning how this could happen in the country that gained independence through something as ballsy and original as the radical application of nonviolence and achieved the largest peaceful redistribution of wealth in the human experience.

This latter accomplishment, of course, refers to Vinoba-ji’s spectacular Bhoodan Land Gift Movement. Between 1951 and 1963, Vinoba-ji walked the length and breadth of India, asking landowners to allocate a portion of their holdings to be given to the landless poor. In that time, five million acres of land were given –- and the movement also established the basis for subsequent legislative land reform in India.

But, a friend asked, is there any documentation to support this assertion that the Bhoodan Movement represented “the largest peaceful redistribution of wealth in the human experience”?

Enter Rahul Brown, who is perhaps best known to readers of memestream as the auteur behind such films as The Law of Love and A Close Shave. Rahul came up with the following calculations to support the claim.

Consider the average price of agricultural land in India today: $4 / square foot, by one estimate. Land within 40 km of a city is presently worth Rs. 20-40 lakh (roughly $44.4K – $88.8K at current exchange) per acre, by another estimate.

Thus, in modern terms, Vinoba-ji’s 5 million acres might be worth:

5M acres = 217.8B square feet
217.8B square feet * $4 / sq. ft = $871B

or

somewhere between
5M acres * $44.4K / acre = $222B
and
5M acres * $88.8K / acre = $444B

Rahul was willing to be conservative. He wrote, “Assume that half of the land is totally worthless. (Is anything totally worthless?) That still places the modern value of the Bhoodan Movement at between $111B and $435B USD. This would seem to verify MBJ’s comment. By comparison, the Gates Foundation’s current endowment is $34B, and the entire foundation world’s assets are roughly at $290B.”

The long-suffering American wealthy might argue that their tax dollars make Vinoba-ji’s project look like chump-change. (People in other countries pay taxes too; but, in the unique American epistemology, if you don’t know that other countries exist, perforce they don’t — or at least couldn’t possibly matter.) Leave aside the question of whether the direct benefits conferred on taxpayers by the payment of tax disqualifies this as pure wealth redistribution; if the Tea Party class is even half as aggrieved as their ceaseless whining suggests, the taking of their assets by taxation sounds like coercion, deprivation of basic liberty, and barely sublimated violence – hardly peaceful.

That’s the argument I’d make in support of Vinoba-ji’s achievement. Truth worth arguing for.

Born in a remote Himalayan village and that too in a princely state, I could know about Gandhi when I was a High School student at the age of 13. My inquisitiveness to know about a strangely dressed young man, who was dressed neither like the officers of the state nor like the poor subjects with loin cloth, but was putting on white Khadi cap, Kurta, Jacket, dhoti and chappal, inspired me to chase him.

He had a small box in one hand and a bag in another hand. I guessed he must he somebody like an archer, who had demonstrated his feats in archery and we were so much impressed that we left going to the school for some days and followed him. The idea came to my mind that his small box must contain something of our interest. I along with a few friends asked, what are you carrying in your small box?’. He very gently replied, ‘come I will show you’. He sat under a banyan tree, opened the box and demonstrated his feat. He was spinning yarn. Looking at this new wonder, we said, ‘It may take you a year to produce yearn sufficient for a shirt’, He promptly replied, whether I get enough yarn for my shirt or not, Gandhi with confidence says that we can end the British rule and become independent, if every Indian starts spinning. This is Gandhi’s Yarvada Charka (the spinning wheel he invented inside Yarvada prison).

‘What else does Gandhi say? How can a spinning wheel bring freedom’. The young man said, “if you want to know more, you can buy these small booklets”. I spent the whole amount of six annas, (about five pennies), which my mother had given me for a week’s breakfast on three small booklets. One was by Gandhi – How to achieve Swaraj? Other was of national songs and the A Word to Young Men by Prince Kroptkin.

The young man was Sri Dev Suman – a smart hillman of 25, who had become Gandhi follower at the age of 15. He asked me, ‘what are you going to do after finishing studies?’ I said, ‘service of the ruler’. And he again asked, ‘But who will serve these poor with loin cloth?’ I immediately replied ‘we will also serve them too’. ‘How can a person serve two masters?’ He silenced me by asking this. ‘Then what should I do?’ He said, ‘That you have to decide, but I ask you, will you sell yourself for a few silver coins?’ And I firmly said, ‘No, never. I also join the army of Gandhi’.

It occurred to me that the soldier of Gandhi’s army should wear Khadi (hand-spun, hand woven cloth), know spinning and above all know more about Gandhi’s life. Our small group could manage to get a spinning wheel, Gandhi’s autobiography and some other books. We were cautious not to be detected, so we practised spinning and study of Gandhi’s autobiography in the cemetery.

Sri Dev Suman after three years was arrested and charged with treason. He was tried inside the prison, where he undertook fast unto death for the protection of civil liberties. I myself was arrested for getting his statement published in the press and kept in the police lockup for five months. Gandhi’s writings and Suman’s penance strengthened me and as a boy of 17, I felt glorified in being imprisoned for being a humble soldier of Gandhi’s army.

Another opportunity to study Gandhi and practice his teachings came, when I went underground from Lahore, where I was studying in the University. I was in a remote village in Lyalipur district teaching children of a Sikh family. I felt I should take up Gandhi’s constructive work programme. I started spinning for self-sufficiency and scavenging the village streets. Though I was laughed at, I felt very much satisfied.

The British had left India, but slavery in the native states continued and thus the freedom struggle in the states was intensified. I was prevented by the Army from entering into Tehri town. I went on a fast. They dragged me some distance and I remained sitting. My fast continued for a week and finally they had to yield. I had seen Gandhi during his last days in his prayer meetings in Birla House. We met him a day before his martyrdom. He expressed his happiness over the success of non-violent struggle of Tehri-Garhwal state’s freedom.

Gandhi in his last will had called upon the freedom fighters to settle down in villages, liquidate the Congress and take up constructive work among the villagers. I could not do so. I was working as a general secretary of the Congress party in my district but this work did not give me satisfaction. Untouchability was still there. Scavengers were regarded as untouchable. They, in order to forget their miserable life, used to take liquor and fight among themselves. The police would not intervene. On Gandhi’s birthday, October 2nd, 1949, I started a night school in their colony. We used to sing the devotional songs and Ramayan. Now they were under a new type of intoxication – the intoxication of Ram-nam — so dear to Gandhi.

I met Thakkar Bapa in Delhi. He had devoted his life for the upliftment of tribals and untouchables. He asked me, ‘Have you seen the cells in which those where you teach live?’ I admitted, I never saw these. Shewing his stick he told me that he had measured thousands of dark and dirty cells where these servants of the society lived. This was a practical lesson to me. We launched a programme of making better houses for them. Untouchability was in practice in the school hostel. There was a scheduled caste boy, who was served food outside. Two young caste students raised voice against this, but their protest was not paid heed. So we started a hostel where students of all castes could live together. It was later named as Thakkar Bapa Hostel.

We started the construction of its building when the number of students increased. I used to work as a and some construction labourer, helper to the masons. The students also worked after their school and study hours. Within five years, we could construct a building. This become the centre of anti-untouchability movement. We had a group of young students, who led the temple
entry in the holy shrines of Gangotri and Yamunotri. Spinning and other manual labour along with their studies became a part of their routine and these students could be ion of civil recognised separate from others.

But it was Mira Behn, the English disciple of Gandhi, daughter of Admiral Slade, who persuaded me to work in the villages. She established her Pashulok (Animal’s World) Ashram in the Himalayan foothills at Rishikesh. In 1949 Ganga was in spate and damaged the Ashram. Mira Behn rode on horse back towards the source of Ganga in the hills to find out the causes of the flood. She could see it was deforestation and, more than that, conversion of natural broad leaved oak forests into commercial Chir-pine forests. She wound up her foothill Ashram and set up a new Ashram-Gopal Ashram (Ashram for the service of cow) in the remote hill village of Geonli. To reach there one had to walk 40 Kms. Mira Behn looked after the cows, worked in the kitchen garden and simultaneously could find time to listen to scriptures, read books and write articles. In her life I could see a balance between head, heart and the hands.

Tehri-Garhwal was the poorest district of India. There were forests, but of no use
to the people. The contractors made fortune out of these forests. Mira Behn had a plan to change the land use in which tree species giving fodder, fuel and fertilizers were to be encouraged, but bureaucracy came in the way, in spite of Pandit Nehru’s full support. Finally she left the area and settled in Kashmir. But she created in me a village worker, passionate for Ashram life.

Finally my dreams were fulfilled, when I and Vimala—an assistant of Gandhi’s other British disciple, Sarala Behn, who had established an Ashram to train women workers in Kumaon hills—were married. I left party and power politics forever on June 1956.

We constructed huts, with the help of Thakkar Bapa Hostel students, on a degraded piece of land covered with thorny bushes. Two huts were made—one for
We used to living and other for kitchen. Vimala found work for herself. She gathered cowherd children and taught them during the night. I tended cow, worked with the villagers in the fields, sat with the villagers for evening prayers.

Gandhi’s prayer of the Sevak (people’s servant) sustained me. One of the sentences of the prayer was, ‘Oh God give me strength and eagerness to be one with the common masses of India’. Common people earned their livelihood by doing manual labour. We formed a labour co-operative and worked through it in constructing the canal and the roads. The villagers were addicted to liquor and used to distill liquor. The ladies were the worst victims. They could not speak anything against their drunk husbands, but in our evening prayer meetings the issue was raised. Women become vocal and the men took pledge to give voice against up this bad habit. When complaint of their breaking the pledge came, I went on fast in lonely place and they repented.

In 1960, in the wake of Chinese aggression, Acharya Vinoba Bhave—the spiritual heir of Gandhi—called me to Agra, where he was halting during his padyatra (foot march). He said in a challenging tone, ‘look here, I am an old man walking all over the country but you being a young man are sitting in your Ashram. The threat from China is psychological more than physical. China is not a tiger to be threatened by the guns. China has a philosophy of alleviating poverty. We have the superior philosophy of Gandhi’s Gram Swaraj (village rule). You should go from village to village in Uttarak hand (Central Himalayan) region with this message.’ Nehru and Vinoba came out with a similar statement that Gram Swaraj was a defence measure.

Exactly four years after we had started the Ashram, I left it to go from village to village. We would tell villagers to free themselves from three shops—liquor shop, courts, the shop of litigation, and cloth shop. They should give up liquor, settle their own disputes and spin their own cloth. But the government was encouraging liquor to earn revenue. A new liquor shop was proposed near our Ashram in Ghansali. I sought Vinoba’s permission to suspend my wandering in the region and offer satyagraha at the liquor shop. He immediately responded, ‘you have to organise people for picketing the liquor shop. The government should think how can they confront China freed from opium by making people drunkards’.

Men were not serious, but the ladies were determined to fight the liquor. They had to look after the family, the farm and the cattle. The main problem was of creating leadership from among them. We organised Ram Lila (the play of Ramayan) during the night. Ladies in hundreds thronged.

After day’s hard work and feeding the family, they would walk 7 to 8 Kms. with torchwoods in their hands. We encouraged them to come on the platform. They would also come with a handful of rice to help the movement. A retired judge — an old man, the most respected in the area — came forward to lead the movement. Seeing the dedication, determination and devotion of the people, the government changed the decision. This was the peoples’ first victory and their faith in non-violence was established.

We multiplied this experiment. For seven years, we fought against liquor. There were mass movements against the liquor, picketing by ladies everywhere. One after another the liquor shops were closed and finally the government declared five bill districts dry in 1970. But the High Court revoked the prohibition. Everywhere an atmosphere of terror was created. The women were told that if they picketed the liquor-shops after High Court orders, they will be sent to jail for many years. We were keeping vigil at the spot where the shop was to open, but the liquor-vendors eluded us by opening it at a new place. Immediately we rushed to the spot. Acharya Vinoba Bhave had made a rule to chant one thousand names of Lord Vishnu (Vishnu Shahastranam) at 10.30 a.m. all over the country. I sat in front of the liquor shop and started chanting Vishnu Shahastranam. As soon as I finished and opened my eyes I was shocked to see the ghastly scene. The head of the son of the liquor vendor was bleeding. He was beaten with an empty bottle by his own servant, who had taken the full bottle to rejoice over the reopening of the shop.

Liquor is the cause of violence and bloodshed. Is it going to happen all around? What to do? Because everybody around us said that it was impossible to close down the liquor shops now. I was reminded of a devotional song of blind saint Surdass. He sang long-long ago.

I bow to the feet of Almighty.
With whose kindness, the lame crosses the mountain.
The blind sees everything.,
The deaf hears and the dumb speaks.
The poor wanders as a crowned king.

At least a blind man had experienced that the impossible can become possible. When all our worldly efforts had failed, why not go on a prayerful fast?

Thus, I started my prayerful fast in front of the liquor shop on Nov. 5th, 1971. It was an open place on the road. People laughed at me. The drunkards created noise. They became more vocal and remarked what right I had to create hindrance in their way; but gradually some senior citizens came to persuade me to give up the fast. Later women started coming. I asked them were they still afraid of the prison. They said, ‘no’. ‘If so, go from village to village and bring thousands to protest against the liquor shop’. Their number went on increasing. They sang devotional songs near the place of fast. On 16th day, 20th November, more than twenty thousand people, mostly ladies, assembled in Tehri town. They had come fully prepared to court arrest. A public meeting was held, which passed a resolution asking me to give up the fast as they will picket the liquor shop. Thus, I concluded my fast.

The people, the most oppressed in the society, the women, had come forward to fight for the cause. This is what Gandhi wished. Scores of these women, and also my six year old son Pradeep along with his mother, were arrested and sent to far off prison. My wife’s old mother was also arrested. In this way the three generations had come together for a common cause.

While working for Gram Swaraj in the border villages, we had seen a bigger threat to the country in the shape of ever-increasing floods due to deforestation in higher Himalayas. We took up forest problem in 1972. We thought the unscrupulous contractors were responsible for overfelling the trees. So the demand was to replace the contractor system with forest labourers’ co-operative, supplying raw material to local forest-based industries. The idea to pressurize the government by hugging the trees marked for selling came from the villagers. This was the result of 12 year long efforts of peoples’ education in non-violence. Chipko means hug — feel the heartbeats of the trees.

Women, who were trained in non-violent method of protest came forward to save the trees, but their vision was different than that of mens’ economic demand. They said ‘forest is our mothers’ home — a place, which a lady remembers when in trouble.’ After five years our illusion was cleared, when we saw that there were landslides even if the trees were felled by the forest co-operatives. Womens’ participation and our long foot marches to educate the people, a fifteen days’ fast in 1974, gave birth to a new concept – a new slogan:

What do the forests bear? Soil, water and pure air.
Soil, water and pure air, are the basis of Life.

On 9th January 1979 was my 53rd birthday. We were camping in villages of Alaknanda valley. Thousands of green trees had been marked for felling. The axemen were at work. The villages were scattered. I sat under a tree marked for felling. The axeman was to come there to start his work. I felt I had become so insensitive that I was doing nothing when my sons are being slaughtered before my eyes. The holy Upanishad says, ‘A tree is equal to ten sons.’

I hugged the tree and the axeman went to the next. I chased him. For some time this continued. Finally I followed them to their huts, but nobody would give me shelter. They were told I was their enemy — an obstacle in their way to earn money. I sent my two colleagues to go to the village and declare my fast unto death till tree felling was stopped. I squeezed under a heap of hay. Next day people from the villages came. The news spread far and wide. On the fourth day to my surprise the hay was burning. I saved my life by running away with the sleeping bag, my only belonging. Thereafter we could find shelter under a hut.

Vimala, along with some ladies from my Ashram, had come. On the 13th day of my fast, they took me to jail. I continued my fast and gave a statement that force feeding and medicines would cause my death as I was naturalist. This baffled the authorities, who were pressing the doctors to do force-feeding. When I did not yield, they sent me to Dehra Dun jail. Groups of doctors came every day to examine me. They would feel my pulse, the heart, measure the blood pressure; but found everything alright. I observed silence and listened to devotional songs. This strengthened me. Doctors asked me the secret of this. I said there is a hidden power — the power of self — to measure which you have no instruments.

On the 24th day, the government decided to stop tree feeling and talk with me on the issue on management of hill forests. Thus ended my prayerful fast. I came
out stronger from this ordeal.

It was finally in April 1981, when felling of green trees for commercial purposes was banned. But it was only in the state of Uttar Pradesh. Himalaya extends from Kashmir to Kohima. How to spread this message? I finally decided to undertake padyatra (foot march). During this foot-march, the first to join me was 72 year old Gandhian activist, Sri Ratanchand Dehloo. Later many more people joined and we could complete this 4,870 km march in 300 days. Besides Indian Himalaya, we walked through Nepal and Bhutan, about 2000 kms. We carried our luggage on our backs and lived upon whatever the villagers offered. We could take the message to the hearts of the people, impress upon them the vital importance of forests for their survival.

The slogan given by Chipko attracted international attention. Richard St. Barbe Baker, celebrated Man of the Trees, the veteran forester came to India to greet the movement. He was a saint scientist. He declared that this was a scientific movement. Later, Indian Science Congress also passed a unanimous resolution supporting the movement. Thus the way for Sarvodaya — well being of all — was paved. Science had come in support of self knowledge (Atma-Gyan).

A 260.5 meter high dam, Tehri dam, the highest in Asia was planned over River
Bhagirathi in 1960s. When it was sanctioned by the Planning Commission in 1972,
people who were going to be displaced by this monstrous dam launched a movement against it. Work on it was started in 1978. The movement slowed down. People went to the court, but in spite of all scientific opinions against it and the apprehension of a big earthquake, work continued. Sri V.D. Saklani, the spirit behind the movement, asked me to devote full time to this issue as he had become old and weak. On November 24th, I left Silyara Ashram, the base of my 33 years work, with a decision not to return till Tehri dam was stopped. Now I was a homeless wanderer. I went from village to village listening to the people and to the nature around. Is this all going to vanish if the dam is built? Nobody was listening to the people.

On Christmas day, 25th December, 1989, I went on a week’s fast. This was a call to motion on my part. I was fasting outside the dam site. Nobody was allowed to go to the site. On the fourth day of my fast, I walked to the work site. Gigantic machines were at work. First I made gesture to stop these, but they continued. Finally, I jumped upon a bull-dozer which was in action. They had do stop it. It was evening and the frosty winter night was to fall. My sitting there made people brave. They came in the hundreds. We made fire around. Next morning a temporary shelter was made, but I made the wheel of the bulldozer my permanent seat. I would offer my prayers, speak for an hour and observe silence for the whole day. When nothing happened for seven days, I declared an indefinite fast. On the 11th day, message came from Delhi for talks.

The talks were not decisive. Our protest continued. I repaired to my ancestral deserted house, which is in the submergence area of the dam. Later, through foot marches from the source of Ganga to Hardwar, where it descends down from the hills to the plains, we walked spreading the message from village to village. River Ganga is worshipped by millions as the holy mother. It is the symbol of India’s Aryan Culture, which sees life in all creation and advocates a worshipful attitude towards all forms of life. Moreover, behind the story of the origin of Ganga is the story of penance of a king, who left everything for the welfare of humankind. The river is suffering from the dual onslaughts of exploitation and pollution.

To make people conscious about it, we set out on a cycle rally on September 11,
1991, from Ganga Sagar, Bay of Bengal, where Ganga joins the sea, to Gaumukh in
Himalayas. Again, teaching and preaching through our action. We covered 2300
kilometers in 46 days, when a big earthquake rocked the hill region on October 21st, 1991.

This put a big question mark on the construction of Tehri dam on a highly seismic zone. On October 29th, we decided to sit in protest near the dam site and finally, on December 14th, 1991, along with more than two thousand people, we stalled the work at dam site.

The monstrous machines were again stopped. We pitched our tents at the work site keeping 24 hours vigil. They tried to dislodge us, brought a bull-dozer to demolish our camp. We again climbed upon the bull-dozer. The work remained stalled for 75 days when in the dark of night the police came and invaded our camp, arrested forty of us and took us to the jail. Among those arrested were Vimala, my wife, two young girls of our Ashram and three ladies. This was an attack on civil liberties. I started indefinite fast in the prison. Vimala and Diksha Bisht, a lady worker, joined me.

We were shifted to Roorkee jail the fourth day and later to Megrut Medical College, finally released an brought back to Tehri. I continued my fast and insisted to be taken to the spot, where our camp was demolished. But everywhere armed police were posted to prevent our entry. We pitched our camp on the road side. All methods of torture were adopted. The fast generated countrywide interest in the problem of Tehri dam. It was discussed in the parliament and finally George Fernandes, a socialist leader and member of the Parliament, visited me with an appeal from the President of Lok Sabha to break the fast. We wanted an assurance from the Prime Minister that blasting of explosives at the dam site will be stopped and a review of the project undertaken. It took another two week On the forty-fifth day when this came, I broke my fast and shifted to the bank of the river near the dam site.

Here I live in a shanty since April 1992. People from different parts of the country and world visit this spot. Near our shanty is a red flag — the flag is not the flag of the socialists, but railwayman’s danger signal, to caution people about the dangers from high dam in Himalaya, in particular, and from destructive development. People often ask what is the alternative. Gandhi had foreseen the doomsday as early as 1908, when he wrote Hind Swaraj. The objective of development is economic growth or prosperity, but to achieve this temporary economic prosperity we have lost peace and happiness.

We have created a world, which is confronted with the problems of threat of war and internal security, pollution and depletion of resources, and poverty and hunger. The concept of development had made man the butcher of nature. Gandhi’s vision of a ideal society was based upon the Indian culture. Development is a state in the life of individual and society in which they enjoy permanent peace, happiness and fulfillment. This can be achieved if science and technology is applied to sublimate nature. Thus the ultimate goal of humankind, to march from nature to culture, will be achieved. The seed was sown by Gandhi. He nurtured it and left tender plant to our generation to rear and help the tree to grow. I have been devoting myself to this during these 55 years.

This essay first appeared in ‘Gandhi and the Contemporary World’, edited by Antony Copley and George Paxton, published by the Indo-British Historical Society in 1997.

With Nirmala Deshpande in November 2002

Nirmala Deshpande died yesterday; and she is being eulogized as a great Gandhian leader in the major newspapers and hailed by politicians across India. I strenuously demur.

There is no question that Didi – as she insisted on being called, effectively mandating a gesture of affection from others – lived a fascinating life. She had the good fortune and great privilege to be the personal secretary to the great Vinoba Bhave-ji, from shortly after of the commencement of the Bhoodan Land Reform Movement until the time of his death. She used this impressive association throughout the rest of her life to establish her own celebrity and, ultimately, to garner a seat in the Rajya Sabha of Parliament and the nation’s second highest award, Padma Vibushan.

I do not mean to imply that Didi’s self-promotion was not used without broader social benefit. She lent her efforts to a successful, people-to-people India-Pakistan peace program and spoke effectively to quell violent flare-ups in Jammu and Kashmir. She wrote several well-regarded novels, which incorporate Gandhian themes, and a biography of Vinoba-ji. (I confess to not having read them.)

Didi was probably at her best with small audiences, telling stories about Vinoba-ji and her participation in the 40,000 km Bhoodan Movement padytra across India. She was able to convey the spirit of the time in thrilling detail – history from the mouth of one who witnessed it and participated in its making. If her retelling of the story was slightly varnished and naive – crediting only Vinoba-ji’s undisputed brilliance and charisma, her version of events invariably omitted mention of the fear of communism which often lubricated the landowners’ willingness to part with some of their property – it was also captivating and credible in its simplicity and authenticity.

To my mind, however, Didi’s life was emblematic not of the successes of Gandhi-ji’s immediate disciples, but of their tragic failures. In “six decades of service,” Didi compiled remarkably few achievements, particular given the opportunity and leverage accorded by her fame. She never struck me as intellectually gifted or creative; but these shortcomings could easily have been overcome with a modicum of effort and passion. The fact is that she, and others of her generation who were close participants in the events of the Independence and Land Reform Movements, have been negligent and ineffectual custodians of Gandhi-ji’s legacy, which has essentially evaporated in the sixty years since Independence. It is a sad, but indisputable fact that Sanjay Dutt’s simplistic, cartoonish Munnabhai character has done more to popularize Gandhianism among the children, youth, and middle-aged of India than Didi ever did.

Didi’s negligence in keeping alive the vision of Gandhi-ji and Vinoba-ji, however, was far more extensive and palpably culpable than the mere lack of inspirational, effective teaching for which she and her aging Gandhian colleagues can be properly faulted. For example, she was the President of the Harijan Seval Sangh, the organization founded by Gandhi-ji in 1946, and head of the trust responsible for the preservation of the Harijan Sevak Sangh Ashram, where Gandhi-ji spend his time while in Delhi. The HSS, which solicits funding from both Indian and Foreign sources, has been accused of financial mismanagement and impropriety and the ashram grounds have been allowed to fall into unspeakable dilapidation and encroachment from neighboring buildings. The limited school activities which still occur on the land for Harijan children are an embarrassment, and other schools run by the HSS under Didi’s stewardship have been judged so poor as to cause the Government to withdraw public support.

One of the most pathetic structures at the Delhi ashram is the library, in which books and paper lay rotting and unprotected. In July of 2007, it was publicly revealed that hundreds or thousands of Gandhi-ji’s books and private papers, which had been housed at the Delhi ashram library, had been given away indiscriminately and without record, or simply had been allowed to be taken. After witnessing the carelessness with which the archives were being treated in February of 2006, I personally raised the question with Didi, which she dismissed. “There isn’t much of value there,” she said.

If her custodianship of Gandhi-ji’s library was shockingly irresponsible, Didi’s disregard for the legacy of Vinoba-ji is, perhaps, even more appalling. Few people know that Didi had kept scores of volumes of notebooks, containing all the dictation she took from Vinoba-ji as his personal secretary, until the time of his death in 1982. A close friend of mine implored Didi to make these documents available to the public, but she declined. She explained that the notebooks would be useless, since the notation involved a combination of script and invented symbols which only she could decipher. He offered to set up an audio recoding system, so that she could preserve these invaluable historical documents for future scholarship, simply by reading them aloud. She refused. When I made my own appeal for her to record the contents of her notebooks, I stressed the historical importance of original documentation, reminding her that Vinoba-ji’s land reform movement represented the largest peaceful redistribution of wealth in human experience. She casually brushed aside the suggestion, stating, “There has already been enough written about Vinoba-ji and the land reform movement.”

Didi’s passing is, indeed, a major milestone. Her life should remind us of the extremely modest successes and tremendous failings of a generation of Gandhian leaders who presided over the eclipse of Gandhianism as a significant social and political movement in India. Didi’s death does not represent the passing of Gandhianism nearly so much as her life did.

துணுக்குத் தோரணம்

பொறுமையாளன்

“”சின்ன வயதில் எனக்குப் பெரிதும் பொறுமை கிடையாது. திருமணத்திற்குப் பின்தான் நான் பொறுமையாளன் என்று பலராலும் பாராட்டப்பெற்றேன். பொறுமை பொலிவது உண்மையானால், அது இயற்கையில் அரும்பியதாகாது. அது கமலாம்பிகையினின்று இறங்கிக் கால் கொண்டது என்றே சொல்வேன்”- என்று சுயவிமர்சனம் செய்துகொண்டவர் தமிழ்த்தென்றல் திரு.வி.க., அமைதிக் கொள்ள வைத்த கமலாம்பிகை யார் தெரியுமா? அவர் மனைவி.

மதிநுட்பம் இல்லாத மாநிலம்?

எஃப்.ஏ. தேர்வில் முதல் மாணவராகத் தேர்ந்தெடுக்கப்பட்டார் பீகாரைச் சேர்ந்த அந்த மாணவர். இதற்கு மாதம் இருபத்தைந்து ரூபாய் உபகாரச் சம்பளமாக வழங்கியது கல்லூரி. இந்த உதவித் தொகை தொடர்ந்து பல ஆண்டுகள் அவருக்குக் கிடைத்து வந்தது. பின்னர் பி.ஏ. தேர்விலும் முதல் மாணவராகத் தேர்வானார். உபகாரச் சம்பளம் மாதம் தொண்ணூறு ரூபாயாக உயர்த்தித் தரப்பட்டது.

இவ்வாறு முதல் மாணவராகவே படிப்பில் தேர்ச்சி பெற்றுக் கொண்டே அந்த மாணவர் வந்ததில் ஒரு சிறப்பு உண்டு. அந்தக் காலகட்டத்தில் பீகார் மாநிலம் வங்காள மாநிலத்தில் சேர்ந்திருந்தது. பீகார் மாநில மாணவர்கள் எல்லோரும் கொல்கத்தா பல்கலைக் கழகத்தில்தான் சேர்ந்து படிக்க வேண்டும்.

வங்க மொழி பேசுவோர் பீகாரிகளைப் படிப்பறிவு இல்லாதவர்கள், மதிநுட்பம் இல்லாதவர்கள் எனப் பேசுவார்கள். இப்படி கேவலமாய்ப் பார்ப்பதை மாற்றியமைக்க வேண்டும் என்ற வெறியோடுதான் அந்த மாணவர் படித்து முதல் மாணவராக வந்திருக்கிறார்.

அந்த மாணவர் யார் என்றுதானே கேட்கிறீர்கள்? இந்தியாவின் முதல் குடியரசுத் தலைவர் டாக்டர் ராஜேந்திரபிரசாத்.

கோர்ட்டுக்குப் போன குதிரை!

நீதிமன்றத்திற்கு தினமும் இராஜாஜி தனது குதிரை வண்டியில் செல்வது வழக்கம். ஒருநாள் நீதிமன்றத்திற்குப் புறப்படும்போது வண்டியில் பூட்டிய குதிரையின் மீது புழுதியும் சாணமும் படிந்திருப்பதைக் கண்டார். குதிரையைக் குளிப்பாட்டி வரும்படி கூறினார்.

வண்டிக்காரன் குதிரையைக் குளிப்பாட்டி வண்டியில் பூட்டினான். இராஜாஜி ஏறி அமர்ந்தார். குதிரைக்காரன் ஏறி உட்கார்வதற்குள் குதிரை வண்டியை இழுத்துக் கொண்டு ஓடத் தொடங்கிவிட்டது. இராஜாஜியால் ஒன்றும் செய்யமுடியவில்லை. ஏதாவது ஓர் இடத்தில் குதிரை களைப்படைந்து நிற்கத்தானே போகிறது என்ற நம்பிக்கையில் அமைதியாக உட்கார்ந்துவிட்டார்.

குதிரை ஓடி கடைசியாக ஓரிடத்தில் போய் நின்றது. அது எந்த இடம் தெரிந்தால் ஆச்சரியப்படுவீர்கள். அது இராஜாஜி வழக்கமாகச் செல்லும் நீதிமன்றம்.

பிரதமரைச் சந்திக்க மறுத்த ஜனாதிபதி?

மும்பை நேரு விஞ்ஞான மையத்தில் அப்துல்கலாம் உரையாற்றிக் கொண்டிருந்தார். அப்போது எஸ்.எல்.வி செயற்கைக்கோள் வெற்றிகரமாக விண்ணில் செலுத்தப்பட்ட நேரம். “”பிரதமர் இந்திரா காந்தி தங்களைச் சந்திக்க விரும்புகிறார். நாம் இருவரும் சேர்ந்து சென்று சந்திக்கலாம்” என்று இஸ்ரோ தலைவர் தவான், அப்துல்கலாமை அழைத்தார்.

கலாம் செல்வதற்குத் தயங்கினார். தவான் காரணம் கேட்டதற்கு கலாம் சொன்னார்: “”நான் எப்போதும்போல் சாதாரண நீலவண்ணச் சட்டையே அணிந்திருக்கிறேன். கால்களுக்குப் பூட்சுகள் இல்லை. செருப்புகள்தான் அணிந்துள்ளேன். இந்தக் கோலத்தில் பிரதமரைச் சந்திக்கத் தயக்கமாக இருக்கிறது” என்றார்.

அதற்கு தவான், “”உடையைப் பற்றி கவலைப்படாதீர்கள். வெற்றி என்கிற பேரழகான ஆடையை நீங்கள் அணிந்திருக்கிறீர்கள்” என்று கூறி பிரதமரிடம் அழைத்துச் சென்றார்.

பற்று அற!

“”என்ன செய்கிறாய்?” என்று வேதனையோடு கேட்ட தாய்க்கு சாதாரணமாகச் சொன்னான் சிறுவன் “”வேறொன்றுமில்லை, என்னுடைய மெட்ரிகுலேஷன் சான்றிதழ்களை எரிக்கிறேன்”

“”ஏன் இப்படிச் செய்கிறாய்?” என்று கேட்ட தாய்க்குச் சொன்னான்: “”இவற்றால் ஒன்றும் பயனில்லை. அம்மா, சூர்யாஜி போன்று பந்தக் கயிறுகளை அறுக்கவேண்டும். ஆசைகளை வேரிலேயே களைய வேண்டும். எனது அகங்காரம் ஒழிய வேண்டும்” என்றான் சிறுவன்.

சரி.. யார் அந்த சூர்யாஜி?

மராட்டிய சிவாஜியின் தளபதியான தானாஜி தம்பி.

சிம்மகட் என்ற பகுதியில் நடந்த யுத்தத்தில் தொடர்புடையவன். போரின் போது உறுதியான கயிற்றைக் கோட்டைமேல் கட்டிவிட்டு, அக்கயிற்றைப் பிடித்துக் கொண்டு போர் வீரர்கள் கோட்டை மேல் ஏறிக் கடந்துகொண்டிருந்தனர். கடுமையாகப் போரிட்ட தானாஜியின் வீரர்கள் களைப்பு அடைந்தனர். தன் வீரர்கள் பின்வாங்கிவிடுவார்களோ என்று தானாஜி பயந்தார். அப்போது தானாஜியின் தம்பியான சூர்யா, “”அஞ்ச வேண்டாம். கயிற்றை முன்பே அறுத்து விட்டேன். இனி வீரர்கள் திரும்பிச் செல்லமுடியாது. போரிட்டுத்தான் தீரவேண்டும்” என்றார்.

சரி… இந்தக் கதையைத் தன் தாயிடம் சொன்ன அந்த சிறுவன் யார் என்று தெரியுமா? வினோபா பாவே.

கோடிக் கோடி இன்பம் பெறவே…

இரா.சோமசுந்தரம்

“”ரூ. 52 கோடியும் தொண்டர்கள் கொடுத்த பணம்”

உத்தரப்பிரதேச முதல்வர் மாயாவதி இதைச் சொன்னபோது இந்தியாவின் அனைத்துக் கட்சித் தலைவர்களின் நெஞ்சமும் குளிர்ந்திருக்கும். சிலர் ஆனந்த நடனமாடியிருப்பார்கள். எங்கும் நிம்மதிப் பெருமூச்சு!.

ஏனென்றால் எல்லாக் கட்சித் தலைவர்களின் சொத்துக் குவிப்பையும் மாயாவதி ஒரே வரியில் நியாயப்படுத்தி விட்டார், எல்லா கறுப்பு பணத்துக்கும் “மஞ்சள் நீர்’ தெளித்து வெள்ளைப்பணமாக மாற்றிவிட்டார்.

இந்த வாதம் எல்லா முதல்வர்களுக்கும், கட்சித் தலைவர்களுக்கும் பொருந்தும். எல்லாமும் தொண்டர்கள் கொடுத்தது என்று எளிதாகச் சொல்லிவிடலாம். எல்லாம் அவன் (தொண்டன்) செயல்!

தற்போது கட்சிக்குத் தரும் பணம் மட்டும்தான் யார் கொடுத்தது என்ற கணக்கு வழக்கு இல்லாமல் வந்து குவியும் நிலைமை இருந்து வருகிறது. ஒரு மாநாடு நடத்தி, கட்சி நிதியாக ரூ.5 கோடியை அளித்தால் அது அந்த மாநாட்டில் தொண்டர்கள் தந்ததாக வரவு வைக்கப்படும்.

ஆனால், அமெரிக்காவில் தேர்தல் நிதி திரட்டும் ஒவ்வொரு வேட்பாளரும் கணக்கு காட்ட வேண்டும். 200 டாலர்களுக்கு அதிகமாக நன்கொடை அளித்தவர் பெயர், முகவரி, அனைத்தையும் அரசுக்குத் தெரிவிக்க வேண்டும். இந்தியாவில் அந்த நடைமுறை இல்லை. ஆகவே தொல்லையில்லை.

கட்சி வளர்ச்சி நிதியைப் போலவே, இனிமேல் கட்சித் தலைமை வளர்ச்சி நிதிக்கும் கணக்கு கேட்கக் கூடாது என்பதாக மாயாவதியின் பதில் அமைந்துள்ளது.

ஒரு முதல்வர் பேசியது இப்படி என்றால், பிரதமர் பேச்சு இதற்கு ஒரு படி மேலே.

“”பிரதிபா பாட்டீல் மீது காழ்ப்புணர்ச்சியால் சேறு பூசுகிறார்கள். அவரது சர்க்கரை ஆலை வங்கிக் கடனை (பல கோடி ரூபாய்) “சூழ்நிலை காரணமாகச்’ செலுத்தவில்லை. மகாராஷ்டிரத்தில் இப்படிக் கடனைச் செலுத்தத் தவறிய 72 சர்க்கரை ஆலைகளை ஜனசத்தா நாளிதழ் பட்டியலிட்டுள்ளது” என்று பாஜகவின் குற்றச்சாட்டுக்கு பதில் கூறியிருக்கிறார் பிரதமர்.

இதை காங்கிரஸ் தலைவி சோனியா காந்தி சொல்லியிருந்தால் அது வெறும் பதில் என்பதாக மட்டுமே முடிந்துபோகும். ஆனால் நாட்டின் பிரதமர் இத்தகைய பதிலை சொல்வது முறையல்ல.

வங்கிக் கடனைத் திருப்பித் தர முடியாத தொழில் நெருக்கடி இயல்பானது ஒன்றுதான். ஒரு சாதாரண நபர் வங்கிக் கடன் வாங்கி, தொழில் தொடங்கி, நலிந்து போகும்போது பிணையாக வைக்கப்பட்ட சொத்துகள் ஏலத்தில் விடப்படுகின்றன. ஆனால், பிரதிபா பாட்டிலுக்கு இப்போது சொத்து எதுவுமே இல்லை எனச் சொல்ல முடியுமா?

“கடனைத் திருப்பிச் செலுத்தாத 72 ஆலைகளில் பிரதிபா பாட்டீலின் ஆலையும் ஒன்று’ என்று பிரதமர் மன்மோகன் சிங் சொல்வது, ஒரு தவறை வலிந்து நியாயப்படுத்துவதாக உள்ளது.

மகாத்மா காந்தி சென்ற இடமெல்லாம் பெண்களும், நாட்டுப் பற்றாளர்களும் தங்கள் உடைமைகளையும் பொன்நகைகளையும் அள்ளிக் கொடுத்தனர். அவை அவரிடம் கொடுக்கப்பட்டவை. அவர் மீது நம்பிக்கை வைத்து கொடுக்கப்பட்டவை. அதை அவர் விருப்பம்போல செலவிடலாம் என்ற உரிமையையும் சேர்த்துக் கொடுத்த பொருள்கள்தான். ஆனால் காந்தி அவற்றை தனது சொத்தாக மாற்றிக் கொள்ளவில்லை.

வினோபா பவே இந்தியா முழுவதும் நடையாய் நடந்து பெரும் பணக்காரர்களிடம் பூமிதானம் பெற்றார். அதில் ஒரு சிறு பகுதியைக்கூட அவர் பெயரில் மாற்றிக் கொள்ளவில்லை.

காமராஜர் கை காட்டினால் கொண்டு வந்து கொட்டித்தர ஆட்கள் இருந்தனர். அவரும் கை காட்டினார். ஆனால் அது தனக்காக அல்ல, கட்சிக்காகவும், கட்சித் தொண்டர்களுக்காகவும் மட்டுமே. சத்தியமூர்த்தி பவனும், தேனாம்பேட்டை காங்கிரஸ் மைதானமும் அதற்கு சாட்சி.

அண்ணா துரை முதல்வர் ஆன பின்னரும் எளிய மனிதர்தான். பெரும் சொத்துகளுக்குச் சொந்தக்காரர் அல்லர். அவரது வளர்ப்பு மகன் டாக்டர் என்ற போதிலும் சென்னையில் பெரிய மருத்துவமனையைக் கட்டி, மருத்துவக் கல்லூரியாக மாற்றிக்கொள்ள எந்த ஏற்பாடும் அவர் செய்யவில்லை.

இப்படியான தலைவர்களின் வரிசையில், மாயாவதி தனது சொத்து ரூ.52 கோடிக்கு கணக்கு சொல்லியிருக்கும் விதமும், பிரதீபா பாட்டிலின் சர்க்கரை ஆலைக்குப் பிரதமரின் நியாயப்படுத்தலும் இந்திய அரசியலமைப்பை கேலி செய்வதாக இருக்கிறது. நமது தமிழக அரசியல் கட்சித் தலைவர்களைப் பற்றியும் அவர்களது வாரிசுகளையும், நண்பர் வட்டங்களையும் பற்றி புத்தகமே போடலாம்.

அரசு ஊழியர் ஒருவரோ, பொதுமக்களில் ஒருவரோ தனது வருமானத்துக்கு மீறிய சொத்து குறித்த கேள்விக்கு மாயாவதியின் பதிலைச் சொல்ல முடியுமா? “என் நண்பர்கள் கொடுத்தது’ என்றும், “எனக்குக் கிடைத்த அன்பளிப்புகள்’ என்றும் அவர் சொன்னால் அரசு ஏற்குமா?

ஆனால் அரசியல் கட்சித் தலைவர்களால் சொல்ல முடியும்.

ஏனெனில், இந்தியக் குடிமகன் சட்டத்துக்கு கட்டுப்பட்டவன். ஆனால், இந்திய அரசியல்வாதிக்கு சட்டம் கட்டுப்பட்டது.

எழுத்தாளர் ஜார்ஜ் ஆர்வல் எழுதிய அரசியல் அங்கதச் சுவை நாவல் “அனிமல் ஃபார்ம்’. இதில் இடம்பெறும் சொற்றொடர் என்றைக்கும் பொருத்தமானது: “”எல்லாரும் சமம். சிலர் மற்றவர்களைவிட கூடுதல் சமம்”. (All are equal. But some are more equal than others).