Friends and doctors assured me that I should recuperate quicker by a change to Matheran, so I went there. But the water at Matheran being very hard, it made my stay there extremely difficult. As a result of the attack of the dysentery that I had, my anal tract had become extremely tender, and owing to fissures, I felt an excruciating pain at the time of evacuation, so that the very idea of eating filled me with dread. Before the week was over, I had to flee from Matheran. Shankarlal Banker now constituted himself the guardian of my health, and pressed me to consult Dr. Dalal. Dr. Dalal was called accordingly. His capacity for taking instantaneous decisions captured me.
He said: 'I cannot rebuild your body unless you take milk. If in
addition you would take iron and arsenic injections, I would
guarantee fully to renovate your constitution.'
'You can give me the injections,' I replied, 'but milk is a
different question; I have a vow against it.'
'What exactly is the nature of your vow?' the doctor inquired.
I told him the whole history and the reasons behind my vow, how,
since I had come to know that the cow and the buffalo were subjected
to the process of phooka, I had conceived a strong disgust for
milk. Moreover, I had always held that milk is not the natural diet
of man. I had therefore abjured its use altogether. Kasturbai was
standing near my bed listening all the time to this conversation.
'But surely you cannot have any objection to goat's milk then,' she
The doctor too took up the strain. 'If you will take goat's milk, it
will be enough for me,' he said.
I succumbed. My intense eagerness to take up the Satyagraha fight
had created in me a strong desire to live, and so I contented myself
with adhering to the letter of my vow only, and sacrificed its
spirit. For although I had only the milk of the cow and the she
buffalo in mind when I took the vow, by natural implication it
covered the milk of all animals. Nor could it be right for me to use
milk at all, so long as I held that milk is not the natural diet of
man. Yet knowing all this I agreed to take goat's milk. The will to
live proved stronger than the devotion to truth, and for once the
votary of truth compromised his sacred ideal by his eagerness to
take up the Satyagraha fight. The memory of this action even now
rankles in my breast and fills me with remorse, and I am constantly
thinking how to give up goat's milk. But I cannot yet free myself
from that subtlest of temptations, the desire to serve, which still
My experience in dietetics are dear to me as a part of my researches
in Ahimsa. They give me recreation and joy. But my use of goat's
milk today troubles me not from the view-point of dietetic Ahimsa so
much as from that of truth, being no less than a breach of pledge.
It seems to me that I understand the ideal of truth better than that
of a Ahimsa, and my experience tells me that, if I let go my hold of
truth, I shall never be able to solve the riddle of Ahimsa. The
ideal of truth requires that vows taken should be fulfilled in the
spirit as well as in the letter. In the present case I killed the
spirit – the soul of my vow – by adhering to its outer form only, and
that is what galls me. But in spite of this clear knowledge I cannot
see my way straight before me. In other words, perhaps, I have not
the courage to follow the straight course. Both at bottom mean one
and the same thing, for doubt is invariably the result of want or
weakness of faith. 'Lord, give me faith' is, therefore, my prayer
day and night.
Soon after I began taking goat's milk, Dr. Dalal performed on me a
successful operation for fissures. As I recuperated, my desire to
live revived, especially because God had kept work in store for me.
I had hardly begun to feel my way towards recovery, when I happened
casually to read in the papers the Rowlatt Committee's report which
had just been published. Its recommendations startled me. Shankarlal
Banker and Umar Sobani approached me with the suggestion that I
should take some prompt action in the matter. In about a month I
went to Ahmedabad. I mentioned my apprehensions to Vallabhbhai, who
used to come to see me almost daily. 'Something must be done,' said
I to him. 'But what can we do in the circumstances?' he asked in
reply. I answered, 'If even a handful of men can be found to sign
the pledge of resistance, and the proposed measure is passed into
law in defiance of it, we ought to offer Satyagraha at once. If I
was not laid up like this, I should give battle against it all
alone, and expect others to follow suit. But in my present helpless
condition I feel myself to be altogether unequal to the task.'
As a result of this talk, it was decided to call a small meeting of
such persons as were in touch with me. The recommendations of the
Rowlatt Committee seemed to me to be altogether unwarranted by the
evidence published in its report, and were, I felt, such that no
self-respecting people could submit to them.
The proposed conference was at last held at the Ashram. Hardly a
score of persons had been invited to it. So far as I remember, among
those who attended were, besides Vallabhbhai, Shrimati Sarojini
Naidu, Mr. Horniman, the late Mr. Umar Sobani, Sjt. Shankarlal
Banker and Shrimati Anasuyabehn. The Satyagraha pledge was drafted
at this meeting, and, as far as I recollect, was signed by all
present. I was not editing any journal at that time, but I used
occasionally to ventilate my views through the daily press. I
followed the practice on this occasion. Shankarlal Banker took up
the agitation in right earnest, and for the first time I got an idea
of his wonderful capacity for organization and sustained work.
As all hope of any of the existing institutions adopting a novel
weapon like Satyagraha seemed to me to be in vain, a separate body
called the Satyagraha Sabha was established at my instance. Its
principal members were drawn from Bombay where, therefore, its
headquarters were fixed. The intending covenanters began to sign the
Satyagraha pledge in large numbers, bulletins were issued, and
popular meetings began to be held everywhere recalling all the
familiar features of the Kheda campaign.
I became the president of the Satyagraha Sabha. I soon found that
there was not likely to be much chance of agreement between myself
and the intelligentsia composing this Sabha. My insistence on the
use of Gujarati in the Sabha, as also some of my other methods of
work that would appear to be peculiar, caused them no small worry
and embarrassment. I must say to their credit, however, that most of
them generously put up with my idiosyncrasies.
But from the very beginning it seemed clear to me that the Sabha was
not likely to live long. I could see that already my emphasis on
truth and Ahimsa had begun to be disliked by some of its members.
Nevertheless in its early stages our new activity went on at full
blast, and the movement gathered head rapidly.