It would be out of place here to describe fully the condition of Indians in the Transvaal and the Orange Free State. I would suggest that those who wish to have a full idea of it may turn to my History of Satyagraha in South Africa. It is, however, necessary to give here a brief outline. In the Orange Free State the Indians were deprived of all their rights by a special law enacted in 1888 or even earlier. If they chose to stay there, they could do so only to serve as waiters in hotels or to pursue some other such menial calling. The traders were driven away with a nominal compensation. They made representations and petitions, but in vain.
A very stringent enactment was passed in the Transvaal in 1885. It
was slightly amended in 1886, and it was provided under the amended
law that all Indians should pay a poll tax of £3 as fee for entry
into the Transvaal. They might not own land except in locations set
apart for them, and in practice even that was not to be ownership.
They had no franchise. All this was under the special law for Asiatics, to whom the laws for the coloured people were also
applied. Under these latter, Indians might not walk on public
footpaths, and might not move out of doors after 9 p.m. without a
permit. The enforcement of this last regulation was elastic so far
as the Indians were concerned. Those who passed as 'Arabs' were, as
a matter of favour, exempted from it. The exemption thus naturally
depended on the sweet will of the police.
I had to experience the effect of both these regulations. I often
went out at night for a walk with Mr. Coates, and we rarely got back
home much before ten o'clock. What if the police arrested me? Mr.
Coates was more concerned about this than I. He had to issue passes
to his Negro servants. But how could he give one to me? Only a
master might issue a permit to a servant. If I had wanted one, and
even if Mr. Coates had been ready to give it, he could not have done
so, for it would have been fraud.
So Mr. Coates or some friend of his took me to the State Attorney,
Dr. Krause. We turned out to be barristers of the same Inn. The fact
that I needed a pass to enable me to be out of doors after 9 p.m.
was too much for him. He expressed sympathy for me. Instead of
ordering for me a pass, he gave me a letter authorizing me to be out
of doors at all hours without police interference. I always kept
this letter on me whenever I went out. The fact that I never had to
make use of it was a mere accident.
Dr. Krause invited me to his place, and we may be said to have
become friends. I occasionally called on him, and it was through him
that I was introduced to his more famous brother, who was public
Prosecutor in Johannesburg. During the Boer War he was
court-martialled for conspiring to murder an English officer, and
was sentenced to imprisonment for seven years. He was also disbarred
by the Benchers. On the termination of hostilities he was released
and being honourably readmitted to the Transvaal bar, resumed
These connections were useful to me later on in my public
life, and simplified much of my work.
The consequences of the regulation regarding the use of footpaths
were rather serious for me. I always went out for a walk through
President Street to an open plain. President Kruger's house was in
this street – a very modest, unostentatious building, without a
garden, and not distinguishable from other houses in its neighbourhood.
The houses of many of the millionaires in Pretoria
were far more pretentious, and were surrounded by gardens. Indeed
President Kruger's simplicity was proverbial. Only the presence of a
police patrol before the house indicated that it belonged to some
official. I nearly always went along the footpath past this patrol
without the slightest hitch or hindrance.
Now the man on duty used to be changed from time to time. Once one
of these men, without giving me the slightest warning, without even
asking me to leave the footpath, pushed and kicked me into the
street. I was dismayed. Before I could question him as to his
behaviour, Mr. Coates, who happened to be passing the spot on
horseback, hailed me and said:
'Gandhi, I have seen everything. I shall gladly be your witness in
court if you proceed against the man. I am very sorry you have been
so rudely assaulted.'
'You need not be sorry', I said. 'What does the poor man know?
All coloured people are the same to him. He no doubt treats Negroes just
as he has treated me. I have made it a rule not go to court in
respect of any personal grievance. So I do not intend to proceed
'That is just like you,' said Mr. Coates, but do think it over
again. We must teach such men a lesson.' He then spoke to the
policeman and reprimanded him. I could not follow their talk, as it
was in Dutch, the policeman being a Boer. But he apologized to me,
for which there was no need. I had already forgiven him.
But I never again went through this street. There would be other men
coming in this man's place and, ignorant of the incident, they would
behave likewise. Why should I unnecessarily court another kick? I
therefore selected a different walk.
The incident deepened my feeling for the Indian settlers. I
discussed with them the advisability of making a test case, if it
were found necessary to do so, after having seen the British Agent
in the matter of these regulations.
I thus made an intimate study of the hard condition of the Indian
settlers, not only by reading and hearing about it, but by personal
experience. I saw that South Africa was no country for a self-respecting Indian, and my mind became more and more occupied with
the question as to how this state of thing might be improved.
But my principal duty for the moment was to attend to the case of