Presidential Address to the Bengal Provincial Conference, Pabna

[p. 101] I need hardly say that I am unworthy of the honour you have done me by asking me to preside over this National Conference. To some such honours come easily, to others it is a grievous burden. To push the unfit into high office is another way of discrediting him.

If times had been different, I would have tried to avoid the responsibilities of this office. But like a man facing a tiger on land and a crocodile in water we are living today in difficult days, days of internal dissension and external danger. The powers-that-be threaten us like the Lord of Death and we find it hard to bear patiently with one another. I know for certain that the office of the President is not a pleasurable one today, maybe it is not even an office of honour. The threat of insult and humiliation hovers over us. At such a time, it was not possible for me to decline your invitation on the plea of modesty.

I also know that there are occasions which transform unfitness into fitness. Till now I have never sought to find a place in our political life. This is an evidence of my incapacity and also perhaps reveals a defect in my nature. This defect has however made me shun all parties. That may be why you have voted me to this seat. As the most innocuous of all, I cannot in any way compromise the dignity of the office of President.

It may be that because I do not belong to any party, I [p. 102] have been able to see from a distance and with detachment the inner conflict which shook the Indian National Congress in its last session. Those who were directly involved have naturally tended to regard the incident as more important than it actually was. They are afraid of the evil consequences that may follow, but it is not healthy to keep alive as a painful memory an event which is in fact now over. When the dead wood breaks, it breaks forever; but a living tree blossoms with greater vigour if a limb be cut. Just as the healthy body heals its own wounds, let us heal the wound in the body of the Congress. Let the recovery be a signal for renewed effort, but let us also accept with humility the lesson it has taught us.

The essence of that lesson is this. We must readily accept diversity and difference in our programmes of work. Nor must we be impatient of the manifestation of life in many forms which is so great a contrast to the dead uniformity of our former stupor. We must not try to suppress by force what we do not like. Nor must we hit back and destroy what is opposed to us. At times, we must stoop to conquer. We must not only accommodate all differences of opinion, but must revise our methods so as to give full scope to each in building up a larger whole. If we do not provide for and profit by the education that such a process involves, self-government will remain an empty phrase.

Differences of opinion are not suppressed in a free government. In such a regime, each opinion finds its proper place. The opposite pulls of different forces will strengthen each and determine the ultimate result. Even parties like the Labour and the Socialist, whose programmes involve nothing short of revolution in the existing social order of Europe, are accommodated in the Parliaments of the nations to which they belong.

[p. 103] What is the secret of co-operation among representatives of such different political views? Why is it that their conflicts fail to destroy the basis of national unity? The reason for this is to be found in the deeply ingrained discipline in the national character, which enables all parties to obey the rule of Law. They do not seek to snatch at a desired result by setting regulations at naught. They have learnt to be patient in order to conquer while obeying rules. Their self-restraint is the proof of their strength. It is because of this that they are able, not only to conduct discussions and debates but also to administer great kingdoms and empires with the help of men of such different, and at times, conflicting views.

The Congress has no responsibility for ruling a kingdom or an empire. Our educated classes have united to form the Congress as an instrument for awakening the national consciousness and strengthening the national will. Our aim is to ensure that in course of time the desire for freedom will harden into resolve and issue in action that will make the realization of freedom possible. If then, in an assembly convened for this great purpose, and composed of the pick of our cultured men, we cannot tolerate different ideals and offer scope for their working, we shall only demonstrate the poverty of our attainments and our capacity.

We have not yet laid down any definite rules for the election of representatives for the Congress and the Conference. So long as the people were indifferent, there was unanimity in the Congress, for there were no differences of opinion about our political aspirations. In such conditions, the want of a constitution was not felt. Now that the mind of the country has been awakened, let it be directed towards national service. The approval of the people in [p. 104] selecting our representatives has thus become necessary today. Indeed, the time has come to frame regulations not merely for the election of representatives but also for the conduct of business of the Congress and the Conference.

If, instead of doing so, the various parties in the country start separate communal bodies in order to avoid controversy, the Congress will lose its real significance. The Congress can exist only as the united conscience of the whole country. If we abandon its all-inclusiveness at the first suggestion of difference, what use will it be merely to increase its membership?

We have struggled hard to repudiate the partition of Bengal. We must today struggle hard to avoid the inner divisions which seem imminent. Let not the man who is weak before strangers seek to nurse his vanity by proving obdurate before his relations. The division brought about by an outsider causes injury but a division which is self-imposed is a sin. The evil of such sin enters into our deepest hearts and can be expiated only through suffering.

We are today facing a situation where we cannot afford to forget ourselves, for we are now striving for liberty. All our endeavours will be defeated if we succumb to temptations which seek to divert us from our purpose. I appeal to you, my friends, that we must control the anger which seeks to make us lift our hands against our own brothers. We must forgive time and again our relations who have induced these conflicts. We must immediately compose differences and forget the clashes which have occurred through mutual lack of consideration. The flames have today attacked our own house. There could be nothing more foolish than if, at such a time, the two opposing parties fed the fire with angry words and made of it a conflagration.

[p. 105] The sword of Partition is hanging over the country today. Hindus and Muslims have for centuries been nurtured by the same motherland and yet how far apart are we still! Until the defects in our character which make this possible are removed, difficulties will dog us at every step of our political career and we shall not be able to bring to fruition any of our great endeavours.

We need not be afraid of attempts by external forces to turn the differences between Hindus and Muslims into conflict. If we can overcome our internal dissensions, we shall be able to laugh at all attempts from outside to set us against one another. Such attempts are in any case bound to cease in course of time. Even the government does not have enough fuel to feed the flames of such discord. Besides, if it did, soon a stage would come when the authorities would have to send post-haste for the fire-brigade. If the homes of the subjects catch fire, the flames must some day and from some direction reach the palace.

If it be true that the government tends today to give undue indulgence to the Muslim in order to curb the Hindu, if at any rate the Muslims think so because of the attitude of the government, the government itself will have to face one day the results of this evil law of division. A hunger that is natural can be appeased. There is also a limit to the claims of competence. There is no end to the claims of indulgence. Those that have been unduly fed cannot be satisfied. It is like trying to carry water in a pitcher that is full of holes.

We must also consider the favourable elements in the situation. From the outset we Hindus have paid greater attention to the education imparted in the schools set up by the British. There is no doubt that as a result, we have enjoyed a larger share than our Muslim brothers in the [p. 106] services and patronage at the disposal of the government. A disparity has thus been created between us. Unless it is removed, we cannot be really one at heart. There will always remain between us a dividing wall of jealousy. If Muslims can secure an adequate share of the posts and prestige of government, the misunderstanding which has been created between unequal associates will be removed and we shall be able to restore concord. Let us therefore with open hearts pray that the favours of government which we have enjoyed till now may be showered adequately on our Muslim brethren. There is a limit to such patronage and when that limit is reached they will find that the deep emptiness of the heart cannot be filled by small gifts from outside. They will then know that there is no prosperity without power and power cannot be attained except through unity. They will realize that it is a crime against religion to disrupt the unity of the country in which we are born. They will understand that even self-interest cannot be served if we violate our nature. It will be then that like two brothers we shall stand together hand-in-hand in a single field of joint endeavour.

Hindus and Muslims constitute the two major communities of India. We must be prepared to show the sacrifice, the patience, the care and the self-restraint that are needed to unite them into a common political organization. This task itself taxes our capacity to its limit. In such a context, common sense and religion combine to demand that the new parties which, under the urge of life, emerge from time to time, should not appear as symbols of discord to divide the country. They should, on the contrary, appear like new and vigorous limbs of the same trunk and be the manifestations of the country's developing political mind.

[p. 107] When a new party emerges from an old, it is often mistaken for an intruder. Since we do not know it, we react against it, not realizing that it is an inevitable growth from the past. For the same reason, the new party is anxious to assert its right to exist, and lacks the calm that is a sign of natural growth. We therefore regard it as hostile even if it is united with us by bonds of kinship.

One thing is certain. Like the roots which force their way out of the seed, a new party, in spite of opposition, grows according to natural laws. It is intrinsically related to the old and to the environment. It may be new but it is our own and its members belong to us. We may at times differ from them but we must immediately draw them near to us and stand shoulder to shoulder in order to work together in the service of the country.

Nowadays one often hears that there is in the country a party of extremists who recognize no limits. I would like to know where is that party? Who is today the greatest extremist in this land? Extremism has the characteristic that if one side goes to excess, it forces excess also on the other side. The pangs of partition felt by Bengal have perhaps never before been experienced in India. The subjects' sorrow has left the rulers not only indifferent but angry and violent. To add to our misery, Lord Morley—whose appointment as Secretary of State was hailed by the whole of India—has now sent us a message from his far-off resort that what has once been settled is final and can never be unsettled.

Is it not the height of extremism to ignore with such callousness the suffering in the heart of Bengal? Will not such action provoke reaction in the people? And can the reaction be merely passive and sullen?

The authorities did nothing to soothe this natural [p. 108] reaction. On the contrary, their repressive measures became even more extreme. They sought to still the waves raised by their own blows by beating the waters more violently. Such conduct may indicate their power but does not prove them to be wise rulers. We may be weak and incapable but the heart which God has given us is not made of a clod of earth. We too react if suddenly hit. This natural reaction is called in English reflex action, and if the authorities take it to be a mark of insolence, they must remember it is due to their own provocative acts. After adding two and two, it would be silly to be angry that the total is four.

Today, we have on the one hand imprisonment, repression and torture by the rulers in complete disregard of law. We have, on the other, a rising tide of resentment among the subjects. The heat which till a short while ago was confined to the tip of their tongues is gradually entering the very marrow of their bones. We have to admit that it is inconvenient and even risky if people rebel rather than succumb to the tyranny of power. We must, however, see in it a cause for hope. It shows that nature is not yet wholly dead in us: in spite of the lassitude that has weighed us down for ages, we are still capable of feeling pain.

Extremist policies mean policies which have no direction. No one can say for certain where they will finally lead. Those who accept extremism cannot always control its energy. It may be easy to initiate an extremist policy but it is difficult to check it. Our rulers did not perhaps for a moment realize, when they let themselves go, that they would have to go so far. I can very well believe that the higher authorities were not prepared for, and do not approve the excesses committed by their underlings once [p. 109] they got out of hand. We must remember, though, that the government is not something superhuman. Those who are the agents of administration are men of flesh and blood and the intoxication of power enters into their nature to a smaller or larger degree. When an experienced charioteer draws in the reins hard, the horses have to arch their necks but this is not in any way unfitting for the king's chariot. At such times their footfalls are more or less in unison. If the pedestrians move aside and give way, they are not liable to suffer an accident. When, however, authority gives up the reins under the spell of extremism, the many agents of a vast administration are quick to catch the contagion of irresponsibility. No one can then anticipate when innocent men will have their heads broken by the policeman's rod or law will suffer distortions at the hands of an impassioned judge.

If, at such times, a section of the people are given special preference, they too do not know how far such indulgence will go. The administration is revealed in all its weakness and the government begins to feel ashamed of its own measures. It then tries to cover up the deficiencies in the administration with reports drawn up by white-washing commissions. The victims are insulted by being branded as liars. Those who were the aggressors are forgiven as the aggrieved.

It is much the same on the people's side. Extremist manifestations by the people are equally difficult to control. The leader himself is led astray by the violence of the party. In such a situation, it becomes difficult to say which, if any, leader is responsible for a particular set of opinions or acts.

We must remember another thing. The distinction between Extremist and Moderate is not of our making. It is the ruler's black mark which draws the line and we do [p. 110] not always know when and where it is placed and for what purpose. Indeed, the line may change not according to any principles but according to the whims of the powers-that-be.

So I repeat that there is no party of extremists with whom the government has to deal. It is a symptom of the nationalist movement and will remain in evidence as long as the exciting causes continue. Suppressed in one form, it will break out in another or at most be driven to bide its time.

Whenever we dislike some natural manifestation of the human mind, we try to say that it is only the result of conspiracy by a sectarian group. In the eighteenth century, Europe held religion to be an artificial creation of self-seeking priests. It was believed that to do away with the priesthood would lead to the disappearance of the evil called religion. Opponents of Hinduism similarly say that it is the outcome of a Brahminical trade guild: if the Brahmins were deported from India, we would be rid of the trouble called Hinduism! In the same way, our rulers seem to believe that a vicious gang of malcontents are manufacturing in some secret laboratory an explosive called extremism and trouble will cease once the ring-leaders are hauled up by the police before a magistrate.

This may be good enough for them. The real problem is an inner one. It cannot be seen by the outer eye and must be understood through deep thought. When an unknown truth is first revealed, it does not express itself in mild and gentle tones. It often comes like a tempest; for it is the clash of incompatibles that make us aware of that truth.

The increased facilities for communication and exchange of thought, the teachings of history, the unity of government, the rise of literature and the efforts of the Congress [p. 111] over a period of time have together begun to make us realize that we belong to one country and are one people; that whether in joy or in sorrow our destiny is one; and that we cannot prosper unless we discover the ties which make us one, and seek to strengthen them.

This consciousness has been growing in us, but it has till now been intermittent and an object of intellectual awareness alone. Because we did not realize this truth with our whole being, we were not able to put our heart into our endeavours or to serve the country with the dedication she demands.

Perhaps this state of affairs would have continued long, but suddenly Lord Curzon drew aside the curtain so violently that what was till now hidden could no longer remain so. The moment the order was issued that Bengal should be divided, there arose from east and west one single cry that all Bengalees were one. Never before have we realized so vividly the unity of consciousness in all the limbs of Bengal, based on kinship and the blood bonds of her people.

When the pain of division became intolerable, we thought that we would find redress if we made a united appeal to the king. We did not know then that apart from an appeal to the pity of the rulers, there were other ways open to us.

Foreign favour, which is the resort of the helpless, was anyhow denied to us. We had been like the man who was immobile for years as he believed he was lame, but when his house caught fire he discovered that he could move. The stress of our emotions has roused us to the fact that we too have the power of declaring emphatically that we shall not use foreign goods.

Like most discoveries, this discovery came to us out of a [p. 112] particular experience. As we watched, we soon realized that the discovery was greater than the occasion that provoked it. We realized that here was a source of power and wealth. We recognized that boycott of foreign goods was a means for strengthening us, not a mere instrument for annoying others. Whether it has any other use or not, it has become for us the experience of an immediate truth.

This sudden realization of power has brought to us the joy of a new assurance. Without this joy, we could never have borne the constant suffering that our boycott of foreign goods entailed. Anger can never have such power of endurance. In particular, the anger of the weak can never stand so firmly before the power of the mighty.

The more we suffer today, the deeper becomes our realization of the truth. The greater our ordeal, the more intense and pervasive grows our strength. This acquisition won through suffering is gradually becoming an integral treasure of our heart. It is as if our hearts, melted in the fire of sorrow, are taking on an imprint which can never be obliterated. Like the royal seal, it will remain the testament of our capacity to endure. It has been built through the energy of suffering and through it we shall be able to bear all sorrow.

I was myself astonished when I saw how vigorous was the joy attained through truth. For ages the wise have said that our manhood suffers because of our contempt for manual work and our obsession with posts in government offices. Whoever heard it said that it was sound advice, but simultaneously he set out to write an application for a job. Today all this has changed. And so the rich man's son goes out to learn the weaver's trade, and the Brahmin's son proudly puts his hands to the plough. We had never in our wildest dreams thought that such a thing would [p. 113] happen in our society. An argument can never finally quash another argument, age-old beliefs are not removed through counsel, but when truth appears like a tiny lamp lit in a corner, the darkness of the entire room is put to flight.

Formerly, even if we begged from door to door in the hour of the country's need, we received contempt, not money. Today, when suddenly the call came, our people did not pause to consider what were essential needs but stepped forward to offer everything they had out of the urgency of self-sacrifice. Only a handful of confirmed optimists could in the past hope that we would ever establish a National School on our own. But the moment we felt the first stirrings of strength, what had been an object of unattainable hope came within our grasp. Till now, men of Bengal had neither the training nor the experience nor the capacity to run large factories jointly. Today, in spite of these drawbacks they have already established a large factory and are running it well. And, in addition, they are planning to establish many more large and medium industries. When once the national will achieved one of its objects and the national strength triumphed over suffering and loss, it became inevitable that we should seek to fulfil ourselves in many ways and in many fields.

We suddenly became conscious of our national strength. That realization also made us aware of one great deficiency. We found that we had no organization to discipline this stupendous power. We are troubled today by the thought that the steam which is being dissipated would have been a source of perennial strength if only we could control and utilize it for a national purpose.

We tend to be moody and ill-tempered if we feel within us some acute want or uneasiness but can neither define [p. 114] nor remedy it. When a child hits its mother without any cause, she must understand that the child's anger is only apparently against her—the real cause is some undefined malady. A healthy child is happy and forgets readily as soon as the cause of an annoyance is removed. If then we tend to quarrel among ourselves today, this must be due to some inner malady. We are conscious of our own newborn strength but do not know how to utilize it. The waste of national effort because of the lack of a suitable organization makes us feel frustrated. It is because of this that we are today unable to bear with our own kinsmen.

We have now discovered that one day's effort can collect enough for the National Fund even in this poor land where families are large and incomes low. How then can we forget that it is only the want of organization which has prevented us from converting the affair of one day into a permanent arrangement for life? Not only so, but it is difficult for us to decide what we shall do with the money we have raised. It is agony for the nursing mother when her milk does not flow. Our frozen wealth has become for us an equal pain. The people of the land are now anxious to give and to work. They want to know to whom to give and what. If we cannot direct the urges of the country along the right channels, if everything is done in a haphazard and unorganized manner, is it surprising that men should feel frustrated and dissipate their energy in fratricidal quarrels?

When this happens, the causes of the quarrel are quite beside the mark. Some of us say that we want self-government within the British Commonwealth. Others say, we want independence without any British connection. We forget that all such claims are mere verbal gymnastics. They refer to objects so distant that they have no bearing [p. 115] on our responsibilities of today. If Providence had appeared before us with the gift of colonial self-government in one hand and independence in the other, and declared that it wanted from us an immediate choice, there might be some sense in fighting one another to arrive at an instant decision. But what justification is there to file a suit for the division of the harvest when even the land has not been tilled?

For the individual as for the nation, freedom is the ultimate goal. But our scriptures also tell us that the obstacles to its attainment lie hidden in our own nature and must first be removed by work. The major obstacles to our national freedom are similarly present within us in various forms. If we do not remove them through deeds, we cannot do so through mere debates. Disputations may in fact tend to enhance them. We may, if we wish, carry on a peaceful debate about the various forms of liberty and discuss whether freedom in isolation is better than freedom in association. But whether it be federation or autonomy, it can be attained only through deeds. Adherents of both must realize that work—not argument, still less bickering—is our immediate duty; work which will give us vitality and remove from our national character the factors which make us poor and weak, divided and subject.

I cannot for a moment think that there is any real difference among us about what we mean by service to the country and what its direction ought to be. The object of our action is not the attainment of any immediate goal. Action is needed merely to harness our latent powers. Whenever energy finds a suitable outlet, it expresses itself in many surprising and unexpected ways.

Even if it were possible to obtain results without the use of our own powers, it would not be good for us. But in [p. 116] fact results cannot be so obtained. We can never attain anything good through the grace of others but only through our own strength. There is no exception to this law. Providence may destroy us but it will not indulge us if we seek to humiliate our manhood.

We accordingly find that wherever the gift of the government and our strength do not match, the gift itself turns sour and becomes for us a source of danger. If the police with their privileges become robbers, there is no corrective to their oppression. If the village council which enjoys the favours of the government itself acts as a spy, it becomes the greatest source of worry for the village. When a particular community is specially favoured, the result is envy and jealousy among our own people. Such aberrations could not have happened if we possessed in ourselves energy and strength. We would then have been in a position to accept gifts and utilize them. Favours would not then have been a prelude to surrender.

This does not mean that we shall not accept from the government any help in our programmes of work. It does however mean that we are entitled to accept gifts from any source only if we engage with all our might in the work that we undertake. Otherwise, our plight will be like that of the man in the fable who offered to sacrifice a buffalo to the Goddess Kali even though he knew it was quite beyond his means, and when finally she asked for nothing more than a grasshopper, replied that she might as well get it for herself! We too may go on talking big but when the time comes we shall try to shirk even the smallest responsibility.

If we are serious about our task, it will not do—through anger, pride or any other cause—to leave out of account that which definitely exists. We can shut our eyes to the [p. 117] existence of the British Government in India only when we are lying passive on our beds, but if we do so in action, we alone shall suffer at every step.

It is of course true that the British also are behaving as if we do not exist. They remain far away even while living in the midst of three hundred million people. That is perhaps why they have lost all sense of proportion in their dealings with us. That is why they can flog in the jail a fifteen-year-old schoolboy just because he is forward. That is why they can characterize the death-cries of starving men as exaggerated complaints. That is why a man like Morley has been able to regard the partition of Bengal as a settled fact, heedless of the feelings of the entire Bengalee community. We find that the British think and act and rule as if we are huge cyphers. We in our turn try to pay them back by ignoring them as far as we can.

We do not become cyphers just because the British treat us as such in their ledgers. On the contrary, their accounts go wrong because British accountants are continually denying the existence of integers. Mathematics does not forgive us if we forcibly try to convert 'yes' into 'no'. But shall we, out of anger, make the same mistake? Shall we hurt ourselves because we are annoyed with somebody else?

Every conflict involves the expenditure of energy. All unnecessary conflict is therefore waste. Those who have pledged themselves to serve the motherland will have to walk over thorns at every step. But is it patriotic to plant thorns in our own way out of sheer bravado? Our resolve to give up foreign goods has imposed on us heavy obligations. In Europe itself, the capitalist seeks to frame rigid laws for labour to further his own interests. Serious conflicts have arisen there over this issue. In our country, the [p. 118] capitalist is not merely rich, he is also the jailor and has mortgaged himself to Liverpool.

It is by exploiting our resources that the British have today become the leading power among nations. How can we expect that they will forego easily what they hold? The conflict which faces us is no child's play and will need all our strength and all our patience. Anyone who adds to these difficulties by vain insolence and needless words is injuring the cause he professes to serve. We will accept fully the burdens of our task and refuse to admit defeat. We must free our industries, reshape our education and make the community strong and fit for service. It will need all our strength to do so and we shall strain every nerve in this stupendous endeavour. We must not, however, indulge in the luxury of irresponsible strife within or without. One cannot serve the nation through mere exuberance. We can serve only through self-restraint and steady endeavour.

How then should we set about building our programme of work? The higher a tower, the broader must be its foundation. If we desire to build an edifice that will reflect our national aspirations, we must work up from each and every district to a representative body for each province. These Provincial Conferences should establish branch organizations in every village and begin with the collection of all possible information about every part of the province. This is necessary as precise knowledge must precede all efficient work.

Our aim must be to restore to the villages the power to meet their own requirements. We should combine a number of villages to form a regional unit. Self-government will become real only if the leaders of these units can make them self-reliant and capable of coping with the [p. 119] needs of their component villages. They must have their own schools, workshops and granaries, their own co-operative stores and banks which they should be assisted to found and taught to maintain. Each community unit should have its common meeting place for work and play where its appointed headmen may hear and settle local disputes and differences.

As long as the landowner and the tiller go each his separate way, neither can thrive. All over the world, men are forming unions to mobilize strength. Whoever remains isolated in the modern world is bound to remain enslaved and a hewer of wood. Unless we unite to build an embankment by our joint effort, the results of our labour will, like trickles of water, slide down hill-slopes to fill alien reservoirs. We shall then produce food for others and ourselves starve and not even know why this is so. We must therefore first bring together those whom we wish to serve.

Many labour-saving appliances have been invented in Europe but the smallness of our holdings and our lack of resources make them almost useless for us. If the farmers in a village or, better still, in a community unit combined and engaged in joint cultivation of their land on a co-operative basis, they could all profit by the use of these modern machines which would reduce expenditure and give larger yields. It is economical for them to buy even an expensive machine if all the sugar-cane in the village is crushed by it. They can afford to have a Jute Press in the village if the produce of all the fields and homesteads is brought to a common centre. There would be an improvement in animal husbandry if all the milkmen in the village combined. Similarly, weavers in the village can indent for improved powerlooms if they pool their resources and work on a co-operative basis.

[p. 120] We all know the threat of degradation which labourers face when they migrate to town to work in the factories set up by capitalists. This danger is specially strong in a country like ours where society is based entirely on the home. If domestic life is once disturbed, one of the main supports of religion will disappear and evils accumulate in the heart of the community. If large factories are established in India and like whirlpools draw into their vortex the poor villagers, if they employ large numbers of displaced people in the joyless and mechanical work of tending machines, we can easily imagine the degradation which may overtake these men and women. No society can endure if human values are wasted in order to increase the production of goods by the use of the machine. It would be in our true interest if villagers combined and set up in their own localities such machines as could be locally used by them. This would be not only an economic gain, but it would also be a means of teaching the value of united action to the people at large. If each Provincial Conference could by precept and example build up even one community unit of this type, its success would rapidly spread it throughout the country.

If the Provinces of India become self-reliant and organized in this way, the time will come to establish a Central Unit for the whole country. Such a centre will then be the real heart of India. Until this has been done, a central organization can have no meaning. How can there be a centre where no circumference exists? How can the Congress have the authority and the strength to demand a share in the administration of the country if it is not moved by the urge of national work and remains merely a platform for raising weak complaints and offering irresponsible advice?

[p. 121] As the mills are killing our handicrafts, so is the all-pervading machinery of an alien government destroying our simple old village organizations. The results are invariably good when a small-scale unit expands with the increase in our demands, provided this is a natural development. The village organizations we had may have been small but they were essentially ours. What the British have set up may be grand but they do not belong to us. They not only make us passive but fail to satisfy our needs adequately. It will never do if we seek to use somebody else's eyes because we have lost our own.

Villagers have no longer before them any high ideal of service nor any living example of self-sacrifice. Nor are moral sanctions that arise from the inner consciousness at work among them. They are held back from anarchy only by the mechanical restraints of a soulless law. Rival factions are madly tearing at one another with claws of false litigation, and no one can bring them back to reason. In the meantime, the village is fast growing into a jungle and malaria is devastating the land. Famine recurs in ever-narrowing cycles, and the surplus stores which used to feed the people between harvests are fast disappearing. There is no social responsibility or manhood left to defend the house against the thief and the robber, and the ravages of the police when they enter on the pretext of enquiry into these crimes. And where is the food which is to sustain the body and increase resistance to disease? Milk is prohibitive in price, ghee adulterated, fish a rarity and the oil rank poison. And while indigenous diseases sit enthroned on our enlarged livers and spleens, a host of foreign visitations have likewise come to stay.

No food, no health, no joy, no hope, no man to help his neighbour. When the blow falls, we accept it with [p. 122] bowed heads. When death threatens, we surrender without a struggle. When justice is denied, we blame our evil star. If neighbours are in trouble, we leave them to Providence. It is because of the canker at the root that it is so with us. The soil which is to sustain life has dried up. The village community, which is the mother of nations and supports national endeavour, has been disrupted and is now moribund. Its life-giving institutions are uprooted and are floating like dead logs down the river of time.

When changes are introduced from outside, old social institutions fall into disuse and die. Nations that failed to evolve new institutions to meet the needs of a new age have disappeared in such crises of history. Shall we too be content to watch with listless eyes the slow extinction of our race? Malaria and famine and epidemic are not sudden visitations but symptoms of a chronic malady. Even more disturbing than these disasters is the deadly resignation that numbs our hearts. When a nation loses its self-confidence and no longer believes that it can do anything for itself, when a nation is content to submit to events as a decree of fate and beats its brow in helpless and hopeless passivity, it cannot withstand even a minor attack and the smallest scar becomes for it a fatal wound. A nation then invites death precisely because of its fear of death.

A simple test will indicate that our national consciousness is not spread uniformly throughout the community. Our sensitivity is confined to the towns and even there to a particular segment of society. The Swadeshi movement was initiated by the urban educated classes, even if on the whole not they but the villagers have had to pay the price. We have all heard, in our fairy tales, of the world-crushing jagaddal stone. This is now being placed on the prostrate breast of village after village in the form of the punitive [p. 123] police. But why do we not all share in this burden that is crushing the poor villager? Why do we not feel the pain in our hearts and by sharing common woes achieve equality in suffering? If it is a crime to propagate the cult of swadeshi, then we are all equally guilty. If we all join in sharing its weight, it will cease to be a burden and become a source of national uplift.

However, spending in charity from a distance will not do any good. Sometime ago, I learnt that a highly placed police official, not content with causing serious loss to some fishermen, had harassed their entire village under pretence of a local enquiry. I called the fishermen to me and offered to pay for the services of a senior counsel from Calcutta to defend their rights. "Master!" they said with folded hands, "what shall it profit us even if we win the law suit? The police will remain with us always and we shall never live in peace again." I thought within myself that they were right. The weak suffer even if they win. The operation may be a great success, but the weak patient does not survive the ordeal. The only real gift is the gift of strength; all other offerings are vain.

There is a story that a kid went weeping to the Lord and said, "Lord, how is it that all creatures seek to devour me?" The Lord replied, "What can I do, my child? When I look at you, I myself am so tempted."

Even God cannot guarantee that justice will always be done to the weak and the undeserving. Why then do we persist in vainly seeking justice from the administration or the Parliament? Good intentions are irrelevant in this context. Law itself becomes weak in contact with the weak. The police become a terror: he from whom we seek redress against the police becomes its greatest patron.

We must also realize that it is against the present-day [p. 124] policy of our rulers to attempt to strengthen their subjects. The very man who, in the exercise of his judicial functions on the Police Commission declared the police guilty, in his administrative capacity finds it necessary to protest in tearful tones against the slightest check to their irresponsible power. He is perhaps afraid that if the subjects gain in strength, they may prove too strong for him as well. If the kid be made too tough for other jaws, it may prove less succulent to his own palate! Verily are the gods the slayers of the weak!

I would therefore appeal to the landlords of my country and say that they must help their tenants to become so educated, strong and healthy that they can defend themselves against tyranny from any quarter, be it the tyranny of the landlord or someone else. Otherwise the tenants can never be guaranteed their rights through mere legislation or government favour: their weakness will always tempt whoever sees them. How can the manhood of the country be restored if the majority of our people remain easy victims for the landlord and the moneylender, the police and the revenue officer and the clerk of the law court? And if our countrymen do not learn to be men, how can they be taught to be a sovereign people?

And finally, let the blessings of the motherland be showered on you, devoted young men, who have regardless of all risks volunteered in the country's cause. You have been the first to rise with the flush of dawn and to endure the conflicts and hardship of the day's work. Your awakening manliness has spoken not only in the thunder of battle but also in bountiful showers that have poured upon the thirsty land. Those who have been down-trodden, despised and callous to insults, unaccustomed to any consideration except from members of their own family and oblivious [p. 125] even of their rights as men, have today learnt because of you what human brotherhood means.

As the power inherent in you has today blossomed into love, barriers can no longer remain and the desert shall bloom into an orchard, for God will not deny us His grace. Like Bhagirath whose penance brought Mother Ganges to this world and revived life in the burnt-up ashes of his forefathers, your endeavours are bringing new life to India. No obstacles can resist this flow, no more than Airavath, the titanic elephant of Indra, the Lord of Heaven, could block the waters of the Ganges. I hail you today as messengers of love sent by the Arbiter of India's destiny and bid you remember that consecration in the service of the country is not a momentary affair like the ceremonial bath on the occasion of a feast like the Ardhodaya. The privations and terror suffered by India's helpless children are not confined to a particular time or place. Nor need you think that your endeavours alone, without an effort on their part, can save and protect them.

Teach them to be strong and to protect themselves, for that is the only way. Take, each of you, charge of one village and organize it. Educate the villagers and initiate new programmes of agriculture and production in the villages. Put new heart into the people so that they can build for themselves clean, healthy and beautiful homes. Teach them the value of co-operative action so that they may put forward their united strength and meet their social obligations. Do not expect fame or praise in the undertaking. Instead, be prepared for opposition and distrust rather than gratitude from those for whom you would give your life. There will be no excitement, conflict or ostentation in this programme of work. It will need patience, love and silent striving, but let one single-minded [p. 126] resolution sustain you in all your work: the resolve that you will make it your life's mission to share in the sufferings of those who are the most afflicted in the land and through participation in their sorrows find remedies that will destroy the very roots of their misery.

If our Provincial Conference undertakes the responsibility of establishing such bodies in every district, and if these district organizations spread out to every village, then and then alone shall we have a real claim to our motherland. Then alone will the Congress be fed with living blood from every part of the country through numberless arteries and become the throbbing heart of India and the symbol of its vital unity.

I have not in my Presidential address referred to any of the items in the agenda but endeavoured to point to the basic principles that must determine all our activities in the service of the country. Let me place these once more before you:

(1) We shall be swept away and into oblivion if we cannot achieve harmony between our social conditions and the demands of the modern age. The watchword of the day is unification, consolidation, organization. An aggregate of individuals may have many fine qualities but it can never stand up to a people that is organized. We must therefore organize our villages for survival and put a stop to the separation that is driving them relentlessly towards death.

(2) Our national consciousness is not spread uniformly throughout the community. While we are busy strengthening one limb, another grows weak. National unity is not becoming real because of the separation between the educated classes and the masses.

[p. 127] (3) The unity of national consciousness that we need cannot be brought about by argument or advice alone. A sense of kinship will pervade the entire community only when the educated classes are united with the masses in common programmes of work.

It is not possible to frame a national programme of work that will attract everyone so long as the educated classes are divided among themselves. Different ways and methods there must be, and perhaps such differences are ultimately for our good. These long-range considerations may, however, be reserved for the future and disputes restricted to debating societies. On one point there can be no difference and that is the need to embark on the perilous journey of common endeavour, in spite of all our differences, if we are to save the country from division and ruin. If there be differences even on this issue, then we shall have no option but to conclude that either we do not realize the dangers that beset us or that we have been overwhelmed by the lethargy of despair which is the worst of all possible ills.

Friends, let us today dedicate our hearts to those vast and broad fields of action where man's majesty has revealed itself through suffering and sacrifice. Let us salute the great men who have laboured long and strenuously to achieve perfection for their nations. Then alone shall we be able to carry out successfully the tasks which the anxious heart of Bengal is expecting this Conference to accomplish. If we do not remember this, we may forget ourselves in vain disputations or tarnish our ideals through personal jealousies or, worse still, mistake the fulfilment of mere party ends for the victory of the country's cause.

We of today shall be gone tomorrow. Who will then [p. 128] remember our petty jealousies, quarrels and disputes? But our deeds with their endless sequence of cause and effect will under God's mysterious guidance accumulate from generation to generation and give substance and form to the emergence of a progressive nation. In the midst of our poverty and squalor, let us dream of that bright and cloudless day when our grandsons may be able to say with pride: "All this is ours, all this we have built up. We have made these fields fertile, these waters clear and this atmosphere pure. All this knowledge we have spread abroad and from our hearts cast out fear." And may they be able to say: "Ours is this beautiful land where waters flow and harvests multiply, a land where soft breezes blow and society is sustained by manliness and self-control to serve humanity in knowledge and action and faith. All this is what we have striven for and achieved. All our land is filled with our life and glad with our songs. Wherever we cast our eyes, we see at work our ideals and our efforts and the earth aquiver with the unwearied tread of pilgrims journeying along numberless paths towards the Promised Land."