-M. K. Gandhi
When I found myself drawn into the political coil, I asked
myself what was necessary for me in order to remain absolutely untouched by
immorality, by untruth, by what is known as political gain . . . . I do not
propose to take you through all the details of that act or performance,
interesting and, to me, sacred though they are—but I can only tell you that it
was a difficult struggle in the beginning and it was a wrestle with my wife
and—as I can vividly recall —with my children also. Be that as it may, I came
definitely to the conclusion that, if I had to serve the people in whose midst
my life was cast and of whose difficulties I was witness from day to day. I
must discard all wealth, all possession.
I cannot tell you with truth that, when this belief came to
me, I discarded everything immediately, I must confess to you that progress at
first was slow. And now, as I recall those days of struggle, I remember that it
was also painful in the beginning. But, as days went by, I saw that I had to
throw overboard many other things which I used to consider as mine, and a time
came when it became a matter of positive joy to give up those things. And one
after another then, by almost geometric progression, the things slipped away
from me. And, as I am describing my experiences, I can say a great burden fell
off my shoulders, and I felt that I could now walk with ease and do my work
also in the service of my fellow-men with great comfort and still greater joy.
The possession of anything then became a troublesome thing a burden.
Exploring the cause of that joy, I found that, if I kept
anything as my own, I had to defend it against the whole world. I found also
that there were many people who did not have the thing, although they wanted it;
and I would have to seek police assistance also if hungry famine-stricken
people, finding me in a lonely place, wanted not merely to divide the thing
with me but to dispossess me. And I said to myself: if they want it and would
take, they do so not from any malicious motive, but they would do it because
theirs was a greater need than mine.
And then I said to myself: possession seems to me to be a
crime: I can only possess certain things when I know that others, who also want
to possess similar things, are able to do so. But we know —every one of us can
speak from experience —that such a thing is an impossibility. Therefore, the
only thing that can be possessed by all is non-possession, not to have anything
whatsoever. In other words, a willing surrender.
You might then well say to me: but you are keeping many
things on your body even as you are speaking about voluntary poverty and not
possessing anything whatsoever! And your taunt would be right, if you only
superficially understood the meaning of the thing that I am speaking about just
now. It is really the spirit behind. Whilst you have the body, you will have to
have something to clothe the body with also. But the then you will take for the
body not all that you can get, but the least possible, the least with which you
can do. You will take for your house not many mansions, but the least cover
that you can do with. And similarly, with reference to your food and so on.
Now you see that there is here a daily conflict between what
you and we understand today as civilization and the state which I am picturing
to you as a state of bliss and a desirable state. On the other hand, the basis
of culture or civilization is understood to be the multiplication of all your
wants. If you have one room, you will desire to have two rooms, three rooms,
the more the merrier. And similarly, you will want to have as much furniture as
you can put in your house, and so on, endlessly. And the more you possess, the
better culture you represent, or some such thing, I am putting it, perhaps, not
as nicely as the advocates of that civilization would put it, but I am putting
it to you in the manner I understand it.
And, on the other hand, you find the less you possess, the
less you want, the better you are. And better for what? Not for enjoyment of
this life, but for enjoyment of personal ser-vice to your fellow-beings;
service to which you dedicate yourselves, body, soul and mind . . . . even the
body is not yours. It has been given to you as a temporary possession, and it
can also be taken from you by Him who has given it to you.
Therefore, having the absolute conviction in me, such must
be my constant desire that this body also may be surrendered at the will of
God, and while it is at my disposal, must be used not for dissipation, not for
self-indulgence, not for pleasure, but merely for service and service the whole
of your waking hours. And if this is true with reference to the body, how much
more with reference to clothing and other things that we use? . . . .
And those who have actually followed out this vow of
voluntary poverty to the fullest extent possible (to reach absolute perfection
is an impossibility, but the fullest possible extent for a human being) those
who have reached the ideal of that state, they testify that when you dispossess
yourself of everything you have, you really possess all the treasures of the
world. In other words, you really get all that is in reality necessary for you,
everything. If food is necessary, food will come to you.
Many of you are men and women of prayer, and I have heard
from very many Christian lips that they got their food in answer to prayer,
that they get everything in answer to prayer. I believe it. But I want you to
come with me a step further and believe with me that those who voluntarily give
up everything on earth, including the body —that is to say, have readiness to
give up everything (and they must examine themselves critically, rigidly, and
give always an adverse judgement against themselves) —those who will follow
this out will really find that they are never in want . . . .
Want
must not again be taken literally. God is the hardest task-master I have known
on this earth, and He tries you through and through. And when you find that
your faith is failing or your body is failing you, and you are sinking, He
comes to your assistance somehow or other and proves to you that you must not
lose your faith and that He is always at your beck and call, but on His terms,
not on your terms. So I have found. I' cannot really recall a single instance
when, at the eleventh hour, He has forsaken me . . . .
