SOUTH ASIA R E S E A RC H www.sagepublications.com DOI: 10.1177/0262728014533854 Vol. 34(2): 155–169 Copyright © 2014 SAGE Publications Los Angeles, London, New Delhi, Singapore and Washington DC GANDHI’S PRESCRIPTION: HEALTH AND HYGIENE IN THE UNFINISHED STRUGGLE FOR SWARAJ John Mattausch Royal Holloway College, Egham, UK abstract For Gandhi, swaraj was premised upon the ethic of self-mastery and self-reliance, including taking responsibility for personal and public hygiene, which Gandhi himself was keen to practise and instil in his followers. While the article shows that much of Gandhi’s biography and development occurred by chance, it focuses ultimately on the persistence of ‘night scavenging’ in India today, perhaps the starkest failure of Gandhi’s swaraj campaign. The fate of Gujarat’s numerous Bhangis, who remain trapped in lives of misery, filth and danger, is contrasted to that of England’s earlier ‘night workers’, whose extinction as a professional class—it is argued—was brought about by chance events rather than by political design, intention or political campaigning. Ultimately, though, some people still have to do ‘dirty’ work which, in some cases, may be attractive even in India. keywords: Bhangis, biography, caste, chance, dalits, Gandhi, hygiene, India, London, night scavenging, pollution, purity Introduction I have no new religion to give, no new truth to expound. My humble role is that of a scavenger both literally and spiritually. I know the outward art of cleaning the streets, commodes and latrines, and I am endeavouring to the extent of my ability to clean my inside also, so that I may become a faithful interpreter of the truth as I may see it.1 As a self-appointed scavenger, Mohandas Gandhi devoted most of his adult life to Indian liberation from British rule. Self-rule, swaraj, was for Gandhi founded upon Indians taking responsibility for their own lives, including responsibility for cleaning up their own mess and not depending upon outcastes to do this for them. The caste burdened with carrying away the excrement of the higher castes, the Bhangis, became for Gandhi towards the end of his life revered carriers of Indian wisdom as well as Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 156 South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 excrement.2 But whilst national independence was achieved, the liberation of Bhangis and other outcastes from their filthy traditional hereditary occupations has not as yet been realised in India, or in the Mahatma’s home state of Gujarat. Arguing that the Hindu caste system and its practices are health measures which have evolved so as to protect its followers by means of a hierarchical social immunity system,3 this article connects discussions about Gandhi’s approaches to swaraj, health and hygiene to aspects of caste discrimination. It critically examines how and why certain caste communities remain disproportionately represented in ‘dirty’ work in India today. While the discussion strongly emphasises the element of chance in the development of personal trajectories as well as public institutional provisions for better and more effective hygiene and prevention of diseases, contrasting developments in Imperial London to those in India earlier and today, there remains significant concern that ascribed low caste status restricts far too many people to unhygienic occupations. This, it is argued, reflects systematic patterns of discrimination that have been outlawed in independent India and elsewhere, while it does remain necessary for some people to engage in ‘dirty’ work. Studies of Gandhi, and of Gandhiism, have tended to favour analyses and explanations focused upon formative values, ideology and the psychology of the Mahatma. For those writers of a psychological bent wishing to identify crucial episodes in the autobiography of Gandhi, the well-known, much-discussed, death of his father when Mohandas was just sixteen provides almost an embarrassment of analytical riches. On that ‘dreadful night’, having been relieved by his uncle from attendance on his bed-ridden father, Gandhi rushed off to waken his pregnant young wife for relief from his ‘animal passion’, only to be disturbed five or six minutes later by a servant knocking at their bedroom door with the news that his father had died.4 In this single episode rests more than enough material to launch a raft of psychological explanations for the development of Gandhi’s adult personality. However, in this article, rather than speculating upon the psychological effects of this particular ‘double shame’, being absent when his father died, and being overcome by ‘carnal desire’, I want instead to tread a rather more prosaic, somewhat dirtier analytical path. Rather than examining the psychology of shame and the development of Gandhi’s personality, I want instead to trace his campaigns to improve the health and hygiene of Indians, show how these campaigns were involved in the struggle for swaraj, and then demonstrate how these struggles were steered less by Gandhi’s maturing personality, and much more by chance. Gandhi, Purity and Pollution Let us return to that ‘dreadful night’, but this time shorn of psychological preoccupations. Surprisingly little about his father has been revealed in biographies of Gandhi. Like so many other inferred early influences, the detail is weak, and so we depend upon Gandhi himself for the portrait of his father and of his relationship to his Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Mattausch: Gandhi’s Prescription157 son. Gandhi Senior makes his appearance on the first page of his son’s autobiography where he arrives garlanded with admiring adjectives. Notwithstanding his short temper, and possibly strong sex drive, Gandhi Senior is presented to us as ‘truthful, brave and generous’ and a paragon of impartiality (Gandhi, 1987 [1927]: 3). We also learn that he was a ‘lover of his clan’, presumably a lover of his caste, a romance that would, after his death, come to weigh upon his son’s career choices. Rather more prosaically, in the ninth chapter, in the retelling of that ‘dreadful night’, we are given glimpses of Gandhi Senior’s attitudes towards hygiene and medicine. Having fallen from a stagecoach racing to Porbander so that he could attend his sons’ child marriages, when Mohandas, his elder brother and also a cousin, were married all together so as to save on wedding expenses, Gandhi’s father became bed-ridden and suffered from a fistula on his neck. Ayurvedic ointments, Hakim plasters and the nostrums of ‘local quacks’ failed to cure this. An English surgeon, too, had been unsuccessful in treating the fistula. So, as a last resort, the Englishman recommended an operation to be carried out by a well-known surgeon in Bombay. This operation, which in Gandhi’s own later estimation would have meant that the fistula could have easily healed, was at the last moment refused by Gandhi’s father in favour of various medicines prescribed by the trusted family doctor, who disapproved of an operation being performed at such an advanced age. Towards his end, his father, as Gandhi (1987 [1927]: 25) records, …was getting weaker and weaker, until at last he had to be asked to perform the necessary functions in bed. But up to the last he refused to do anything of the kind, always insisting on going through the strain of leaving his bed. The Vaishnavite rules about external cleanliness are so inexorable. At the time, Gandhi (1987 [1927]: 25) tells us as well, he ‘had nothing but admiration’ for his father’s insistence upon getting up from his sick bed to perform his ‘necessary functions’. But with hindsight, having learnt what ‘Western medical science has taught us’, he came to realise that all the functions could have in fact been done in bed and that, as he put it, ‘I should regard such cleanliness as quite consistent with Vaishnavism’. Aside from the rather obvious contradiction between Gandhi’s willingness to learn a lesson from ‘Western science’ and his earlier disavowal of ‘Western’ teachings,5 this sad and intimate detail of Gandhi’s father’s death is revealing. In fact, the wish not to perform the ‘necessary functions’ whilst in bed is a quite natural proclivity for all humans, not just for Hindus. But Gandhi presents his father’s insistence on getting out of bed as a religious ethic, as being consistent with his father’s Vaishnavism. Characteristically, thus, Gandhi views the event through a religious lens. For Gandhi, matters of cleanliness are next to his Vaishnavite godliness and this connection betwixt cleanliness and Hinduism is intimate and foundational (Mattausch, 2012). In my view, Hinduism functions to protect the health of its followers by perpetuating a ‘behavioural immune system’, a social system evolved to bolster the South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 158 South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 body’s natural abilities to avoid potential health threats. For, as Park and Schaller (2009: 942) have written, our body’s natural immune system, …is incapable of the simplest form of defence: preventing parasites from coming into contact with the body in the first place. It has thus been suggested that animals evolved an additional system of defence that enables them to physically avoid germy things and other infected hosts. This system is designed to employ perceptual cues (appearance, odour, etc.) to detect the presence of infectious parasites in other things—including humans—the detection of such cues may trigger aversive emotional and cognitive responses that motivate behavioural avoidance. This behavioural mechanism offers a first line of defence against disease-causing parasites and hence has been called the ‘behavioural immune system’. Here, then, we are moving away from the comparatively gross and towards subtle environmental influences, from the visible world of the Rajasthani Court and the early life of an Indian Dewan’s son, to the hidden, then unknown, invisible, microscopic world populated by innumerable small organisms, some of which may harm, and could even kill us. In my reading of Hinduism, including the Vaishnavism of Gandhi’s family and other Gujarati merchant caste families, the religio-cultural sphere helps protect its ascribed followers by giving them a social code, an ethic of cleanliness. This Hinduistic ethic is premised upon a dichotomy of purity and pollution, of cleanliness and uncleanliness, which finds religious expression and justification. This dichotomy is familiar from the work of Mary Douglas (1966) whose seminal discussion has more recently been revived in a postcolonial perspective by Anderson (2010: 169) who like Douglas is interested in ‘how pollution can be used analogically or symbolically to reinforce moral and social order, to demarcate categories and express transgression’. Here, sticking to my dirtier analytical path, my analytical focus is upon the non-symbolic socio-biological mechanisms of Hinduistic practices, a connection long familiar to British people visiting India. The caste system, perpetuated by ‘arranged’ marriages, is a hierarchy of purity and pollution with the cleanest humans, animals and birds placed on the highest rungs. Traditional religiously-sanctioned customs, practices, diets and much else, are caste relative, and serve to protect Hindus, within the parameters of their hierarchical caste boundaries, from potential threats to their health. Hence, for illustration, one could mention the rules of commensality; separate wells or taps for outcastes; not physically touching outcastes; not marrying those from lesser, less clean castes; and always washing before all religious rituals, except in funeral ceremonies where washing happens after the ceremony has ended. Indeed, it is easy to list the many ways in which Hinduistic customs, practices and doctrine serve as a hierarchical immunity system, offering increasing protection against threats to health the higher you are placed on the caste hierarchy. Perhaps the most bluntly evidential illustration, and the one pertinent to this discussion, is the practice of only touching food and serving-dishes with your right Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Mattausch: Gandhi’s Prescription159 hand. In many cultures the left hand is sinister. For Hindus (and many other Asiatics) it is unclean, polluted when they use it to clean themselves after their ‘necessary functions’.6 We may safely presume that Gandhi’s father faithfully followed these rules for using his hands, and we may also presume that once he had performed his ‘necessary functions’ and returned to his sick-bed, his excrement was cleaned up by an outcaste person called Uka, thus by a ‘night scavenger’ and not by Gandhi’s father himself. Persuading Hindus to clean up their own mess, including cleaning up after defecating, was to become a life-long campaign for Gandhi, a component of swaraj. So, too, was the Mahatma’s concomitant campaign to reform the caste system and abolish untouchability. This latter campaign failed, as untouchability has persisted, as did night scavenging, whereas the English caste of night scavengers, known as ‘night-workers’, had become virtually extinct by the time Gandhi arrived as a student in London.7 Night Workers and Night Scavengers in the Metropolis Why and when Gandhi became obsessed with cleanliness is unclear. Scholars tend to skirt demurely around topics such as personal hygiene,8 but we do know from his autobiography that on board ship bound for England he, ineptly, used soap ‘taking its use to be a sign of civilisation’ (Gandhi, 1987 [1927]: 39). A key fillip arose when he encountered British toilets and hygiene, allowing him to compare these modern, Imperial, foreign ways with those that he had left behind. Regardless of the precise origins of his concern with the topic, persuading his followers and other Indians to be cleaner in their personal habits became a life-long feature of the Mahatma’s politicking, beginning when he founded his South African communities and continuing upon his return to India. A rather vivid example of Gandhi’s obsession, and of his characteristic approach of teaching by example, is found in his account of attending the Indian National Congress’ Conference in 1901, reported by Adams (2010: 75): At the conference venue Gandhi made his customary inspection of the sanitary arrangements and found them disgusting. He complained to the volunteers who had come to help with the meeting but they were not interested, considering such work to be fit only for untouchables. Gandhi asked for a broom and cleaned a latrine. Later he invited volunteers to help him clean faeces from the veranda outside the dormitory where he was staying, where delegates had defecated during the night. They declined, so he found a broom and did it himself. By the time Gandhi arrived in London in November 1888, the British caste of ‘nightworkers’ was in terminal decline. Gandhi would certainly have noticed that, unlike in Gujarat, people used both hands when eating and that amidst the city’s millions living in abject squalor, housed in slums, there were hardly any night scavengers. However, their disappearance was not a victory for any public or political movement for their liberation of the kind Gandhi would mount in support of untouchables in India. One key difference in the political economies of night-workers and night South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 160 South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 scavengers was that in London and other larger British cities of the nineteenth century, night-work had become rather lucrative.9 As the British population grew rapidly and more and more people moved from the countryside to the towns and cities during that century, sanitation became a new and pressing issue. It also offered new economic opportunities for those prepared to work at night emptying the growing numbers of cess pits. Urban expansion had not been planned. There was woefully inadequate housing to accommodate the burgeoning city populations and no provisions had been made for their sanitary needs. Novelists, newspaper reporters, artists and early social investigators such as Chadwick (1842), all drew attention to the appalling conditions endured by the majority of Londoners. There was a common concern with plagues and illness, as cholera had arrived 50 years before Gandhi, at a time when, before the mid-century, very little was understood either about the cause or cure of such epidemics. All these factors heightened public interest in sanitary issues (Fisher and Cotton, 2005). The filthy and dangerous,10 often physically hard but well-paid ‘night-work’ could, by law, only be carried out between midnight and five in the morning, the ‘legal hours’. Unlike their Gujarati counterparts who were forced into the trade by cursed parental inheritance, in the Imperial metropolis men worked voluntarily, in gangs of four—a tub man, a rope man, a hole man and a gang master, the ‘master nightman’. Again unlike their Gujarati counterparts, the night-workers of London, according to Mayhew (1851), always did night-work as a sideline, never as their main occupation. Mayhew (1851) recorded: ‘A rubbish-carter, a very powerfully-built man, told me he was partial to night-work, and always looked out for it, even when in daily employ, as “it was sometimes like found money”.’ However, the unforeseen consequences of growing urban populations which led rich and poor to share a common concern with measures to protect their health, and filled more and more cess pits, would lead nightwork to become far less financially attractive. Once the ‘night soil’ had been collected from the cess pits it was taken, by cart, to ‘night yards’, where it was left ‘to desiccate and mature before being sold as manure to farmers and gardeners’. According to Mayhew (1851) there were about 60 such yards in London until about 1848. Alternatively, the night soil was taken by barge on the Grand Union Canal to more distant customers. However, the London night yards were suppressed after the passing of sanitary measures in September 1848 (Eveleigh, 2006: 13). As the capital expanded, farms, the night-workers’ main customers, retreated further and further from the urban centre, adding to the time, trouble and cost of the night-work economy (Halliday, 2007: 133). In fact, though social scientists may now remember 1848 as the ‘year of revolutions’, for nightworkers that year was significant for the introduction of new parliamentary acts and policies which impacted more upon their lives than the revolutions sweeping Europe. As Eveleigh (2006: 15) notes: In the second half of the nineteenth century, the primitive privy-midden [a hut or room with a pit dug in the floor] was slowly replaced in towns either by dry closets Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Mattausch: Gandhi’s Prescription161 or water closets. From the 1840s successive governments passed legislation directed at improving levels of cleanliness and health in the rapidly expanding towns: by 1850 roughly 50 per cent of the country’s population was urban. In London, the Metropolitan Sewers Act of 1848 forbade the construction of new houses without a water closet or privy and created a body, the Metropolitan Commission of Sewers, which began the work of removing cesspools: within about 6 years, 30,000 had been abolished. The first Public Health Act of 1848 established a General Board of Health at national level and enabled local boards of health to be created in districts where the death rate exceeded 23 per 1,000. Dry or water closets were after 1848 mandatory in London. Of these two varieties it was to be flushing toilets that would predominate, obviously to the ruin of the nightwork trade. Water closets had been known in Britain since Elizabethan times but were at first expensive and unreliable. It was not until the beginning of the nineteenth century with the improved designs and mass-production techniques of men such as Joseph Bramah, George Jennings and, best known, a certain Thomas Crapper, that potential customers could be confident in Crapper’s advertised promise of ‘a certain flush with every pull’. In London the 1844 Metropolitan Buildings Act mandated all new buildings to be connected to the sewers, a reversal of earlier sanitation mandates and one made in the pressing battle against misunderstood diseases as raw effluent from the capital’s water closets travelled through the sewers right into the Thames from whence drinking water was taken. Water closets, as well as leading to epidemics of disease in London, also ruined the jobs of night-workers employed in districts still using cess-pits. Halliday (2007: 133) observes: When flushed, the WC despatched a small quantity of human waste and a far larger volume of water into the cesspool, which consequently filled up twenty or more times as fast with liquid that was difficult to transport and that no farmer wanted to buy.11 Moreover, after 1847, farmers could now buy a better, more attractive alternative to desiccated human waste, guano. Rich in nitrogen and phosphor, and blessedly free of odour, this South American import was a superior—and thanks to the development of steam ships readily available—cheaper nail in the night-workers’ coffin. Just as species extinction in the natural world is often caused by chance events, so, too, the ending of the night-trade in London and other cities and towns in England had several chance causes. Driving the processes of change along were the growth and urbanisation of Britain’s Victorian population, a demographic motor leading to metropolitan overcrowding in dismally unhygienic conditions, perfect for the incubation and spread of deadly diseases. Long before Gandhi visited London, an earlier arrival from India, the cholera bacterium, had found the capital to its liking, first in 1831, then again in 1849, leading to terrifying epidemics, galvanising efforts to improve the capital’s sanitation by introducing water closets. However, locked into the miasma epidemiological paradigm, the all too plausible theory became that disease South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 162 South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 was caused by malodour, basically bad air. Along with the ruin of the night-trade, a further unintended consequence of introducing water closets was thus an increase in disease, as ever more polluted water from these closets flowed into the Thames, from which drinking water was still taken. In the words of a Victorian government statistician (Carter, 2006: 97–9): Almost coincidentally with the appearance of epidemic cholera, and with the striking increase of diarrhoea in England, was the introduction into general use of the water closet system, which had the advantage of carrying nightsoil out of the house but the incidental and not necessary disadvantage of discharging it into the rivers from which the supply was drawn. It would take the deaths of tens of thousands of Londoners, and the un-ignorable ‘Great Stink’ rising from the horribly polluted Thames, to persuade the British Parliament, in 1859, to fund building a proper sewage system, a hugely impressive system designed and meticulously executed by Joseph Bazalgette, son of French immigrants, and a man who recognised the need for the capital’s sewage outflows to be built above the river’s high-tide mark. The rapid growth of London’s population in the nineteenth century was wholly unplanned, as were the filthy, crowded conditions in which many were forced to live. The illnesses and diseases these unplanned demographic changes promoted, just like the arrival of cholera, were chance outcomes met by a faltering process of trial and error. This led eventually to far better sanitation in the metropolis at about the same time as guano became a vastly preferable type of manure. These wholly coincidental factors combined to lead to the complete ruin of the night-trade, so that by the time the young Gandhi arrived in London, the extinction of the night-workers had been brought about by coincidence, by contingency, indeed by chance. Chance Factors in Gandhi’s Development Gandhi himself was blessed by chance, largely by good fortune, at crucial times during his life, as was his political campaigning. As with us all, chance first spawns us of two unchosen parents in unchosen circumstances. In Gandhi’s case, as the son of the Dewan, the first minister in the comparatively small and unremarkable Princely State of Porbander, his fortuitous birth as son of the second most important man in this state was then compounded when the family moved home. Spodek (1971: 362) records familiar facts: When Gandhi was a child, his father moved to Rajkot from Porbander and assumed two new political positions, one with the local government and one with the British government. He became diwan, or prime minister, to the ruler of Rajkot State and he also became a member of the Rajasthanik Court which had been established by the British in 1873 especially to decide legal disputes among landholders and princes. Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Mattausch: Gandhi’s Prescription163 Rajkot, though another small and unremarkable Princely State like Porbander, was the base for the British Political Agency of Kathiawar. In 1873, in an attempt to lessen the endemic disorder and violence on the peninsula, the British set up, at the local Princes’ expense, a special law court, the Rajasthanik Court, to offer disinterested adjudication in the frequent disputes over land and tribute that lay behind much of the violence.12 Gandhi’s father had been seconded to this court by the Rana of Porbander, a rather nice appointment given that Gandhi’s paternal uncle Tulsidas would automatically take over as Dewan, keeping the post and its remuneration in the family. Moreover, Rajkot was the only place on the Kathiawar peninsula which offered secondary education delivered in English and in English style. It was also good that the family relocated because Porbander had become notoriously misruled and the Rana of Porbander was to prove, in British eyes at least, such a determinedly poor ruler that, in 1884, he was deposed by the British, one of the very few Kathiawari Princes to be deposed after Empress Victoria’s declaration to the princes (Copland, 1982: 10). If the young Mohandas had not been enrolled by chance into this schooling, then his horizons as an adult would have remained narrow, as entry into the Imperialists’ world was highly difficult for those who could not speak English. Hay (1969: 311) asserts that the young Mohandas’s ‘positive view of British culture’ had its origins in this secondary schooling. Chance next enters the young Gandhi’s biography following the death of his father when, as the brightest of the six children, from four mothers, Mohandas’ future career became crucial to the family’s fortunes. Mohandas had hoped to enter medical college and become a doctor. But this ambition was quashed by his elder brother’s reminder of their father’s caste-based prejudice against touching dead bodies. This rather neat example of Hinduism protecting higher castes against potential dangers from communicable disease was a serious blow to the young Gandhi’s ambitions. On the advice of a Brahmin family friend and the urging of his brother, Gandhi opted to study law for which knowledge of English was a prerequisite, while a degree was not needed. Having sent him to school in Rajkot, then to Samaldas College in Bhavnagar, chance now packed his suitcase for London, where he was to study law. This was a chance the young Gandhi, who had been struggling with his studies, and who was keen to visit the land of philosophers and poets, the very centre of civilisation, eagerly took. It was during the one-third of his life he spent abroad that the later Gandhi was forged. ‘Gandhi’ in this sense was made not in India but abroad, signalled by his changes of costume from a parody of English dress into the faux poor bania’s costume he wore on his return to India from South Africa, clothing of a kind never actually worn by a Dewan’s son. His political and professional apprenticeships were served abroad living amongst the Indian ex-pat community in South Africa. His idiosyncratic religious philosophies developed in response to having to live, for the first time, amongst a majority of Christians, some of whom knew far more about Hinduism than did Gandhi. The passport for the next definitive biographical step was once again stamped by chance. Having returned from London as a qualified, but inept lawyer, Gandhi South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 164 South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 was readmitted into his caste fold on condition that he took a ritual bath—a blatant health measure—but he found entry into the Indian legal profession more troubling. Burdened with his family’s over-egged expectations, Gandhi went to live in Bombay but failed dismally to build a professional career there and returned to Rajkot. There, unwisely playing upon an earlier brief encounter in London with the British Political Agent, Charles Ollivant, when trying to curry favour for his brother, Gandhi offended the man who oversaw the court in which he sought work (Gandhi, 1987 [1927]: 97–99). As Arnold (2001: 41) writes, at this crucial juncture ‘Gandhi might then perhaps have vanished into the obscurity of life as a small-town lawyer’, if chance had not intervened again. As it was, his brother had caught wind of a Muslim family merchant firm based in Porbander and Natal whose very wealthy South African-based patriarch, Abdulla, was looking for a barrister to help with a pending legal case. Arnold (2010: 43) reports: Though barely literate, Abdulla had made his fortune several times over […] He needed a man such as Gandhi as an intermediary between his lawyers, who spoke no Gujarati, and himself (having only poor English). Gandhi, proficient in both languages, legally qualified and familiar with the trading milieu (he came from a Gujarati merchant caste, after all), was in the right place at the right time. That Gandhi was ‘in the right place at the right time’, that he was proficient in English and legally qualified was, in common with the coincidental offer of a lucrative job in South Africa, all down to chance. By the time he finally returned to India in 1916, Gandhi had become a competent lawyer (Kincaid, 1934: 73), a successful freedom fighter, a quester after truth and Indian swaraj. The manufacturer of all of this was chance, expressed as coincidence acting in a world circumscribed by the Hindu social immunity system. The Unfinished Business of Swaraj However, not all Gujaratis have been as lucky as Gandhi. Gujarat’s numerous night scavengers have been especially unlucky. About 110 years after Gandhi left the Imperial capital aboard the steamship Oceana bound for Bombay, and over 50 years after the Mahatma’s assassination in 1948, half the householders in rural Gujarat still drew their drinking water from wells or hand-pumps, 86.3 per cent were without ‘drainage connectivity for waste water outlet’, and 78.3 per cent had no latrines. Only 11.3 per cent had water closets. These dismal figures, taken from housing tables of the 2001 Census of India,13 are somewhat better for the urban population. Nonetheless in 2001, when the majority of Gujarat’s population, 62.6 per cent, still lived in rural villages, only 62.1 per cent of urban households boasted water closets and only 59.3 per cent of urban households had ‘closed drainage’. In 2001 most Gujaratis, along with some two-thirds of India’s population, still did not have a toilet. Unlike in late Victorian London, there still remains plenty of work for Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Mattausch: Gandhi’s Prescription165 night scavengers in present-day Gujarat, dangerous, filthy, degrading work carried out unwillingly by over 64,000 Gujarati night scavengers.14 Along with the 17 per cent of Gujarat’s population consigned by religious superstition to a life as dalits, these people also face further dangers from higher castes who regularly subject them to atrocities. The Government of India designates eleven districts in Gujarat as ‘atrocity sensitive’.15 This is a side to modern Gujarat unpublicised by Gujarat’s tourism industry, unmentioned by the state’s Chief Minister Narendra Modi, a curious omission from a man proud of his beginnings in an organisation purportedly dedicated to the well-being of all Indian citizens. Gujarat’s night scavengers were not only failed by Modi’s RSS/BJP, they were also failed by Gandhi and Congress. Of all the Gujarati communities who deserved better lives in independent India, those who should most have benefited from swaraj, the night scavengers in the Mahatma’s home state must have a strong claim, yet they continue to suffer horribly. Why did the Mahatma’s campaign fail them, and their children, too? The comparatively dirty habits of Indians had been a concern of Gandhi’s which he included in the first public speech he gave to Indians assembled in Pretoria whom he admonished for their slovenness (Gandhi, 1987 [1927]: 142): I had found our peoples’ habits to be insanitary, as compared with those of the Englishmen around them, and drew their attention to it. I laid stress on the necessity of forgetting all distinctions such as Hindus, Musalmans [sic], Parsis, Christians, Gujaratis, Madrasis, Punjabis, Sindhis, Kachchhis, Suratis, and so on. However, it was the ‘distinctions’ within, and not simply between, religions and regions which needed to be overcome. These distinctions were the bedrock of the Hindu social immunity system which had evolved in India to meet the threat posed by virulent, unpredictable health threats, a hierarchical system in the case of Gandhi’s co-religionists, a caste ladder whose bottom rung was occupied by those who cleaned up after the higher castes performed their ‘necessary functions’. As late Victorian Britons keen to improve India’s sanitary conditions had ruefully noted in the Imperial Gazetteer of India in 1908,16 this system was and remains highly resistant to change, even if championed by a Mahatma or challenged by the introduction of new technologies. Change is at the beck and call of chance, not under the command of politicians and not to be brought about simply by the adoption of modern sanitation technologies. As Tam (2012: 29) has shown, the introduction of new technologies in Gujarat’s de facto capital city Ahmedabad did not liberate Bhangis, it merely allowed them to continue to be exploited by modern methods: Sanitation technologies that were intended to replace Bhangi labour have instead contributed to the preservation of their living and working conditions, perpetuating the belief that they are irreplaceable and essential to the city. [...] The hope for Bhangi emancipation therefore cannot arise from notions of development or modernity—they will only provide new methods for subjugating Bhangis. South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 166 South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Swaraj under Gandhi meant political independence for Indians who were to be free to follow their religious callings. In Gujarat, a Hindu-majority region and then a state, this formula preserved the ascribed hierarchical social immunity system and the concomitant political privileges (Chaplin, 1999) that condemned tens of thousands of men, women and children to lives of filth and persecution, a nocturnal army of the damned. Unlike London’s caste of night workers, they were not rescued from their misery by chance.17 This hereditary blight has also not fallen by misfortune just upon Gujarati Bhangis living in their home state. Migratory flows have taken Gujaratis of all castes and religious persuasions to live throughout the world. In India, beginning in the late seventeenth century, groups of Gujarati traders began to move down to Bombay after the East India Company colonised this former Portuguese stronghold. By the late nineteenth century, there were in fact more Gujaratis living in Bombay than in any Gujarati city. From this new rapidly growing conurbation arose, it has been argued, a modern Gujarati intelligentsia and a modern Gujarati identity, too. Just as with the rise of London, so too has the growth of Bombay offered attractive employment to many diverse peoples, including notably Gujarati Bhangis, who have come to monopolise sectors of Mumbai’s public health work (Solanki, 2011: 175–86). It will be interesting to see whether or not the fate of Mumbai’s Bhangis follow a similar pattern to their nineteenth century London counterparts, and whether or not in future the modernisation of Mumbai’s sanitary infrastructure renders night-work obsolete. It remains to be seen, if and when this does occur, how Mumbai’s Bhangis will respond to a chance extinguishing of their hereditary curse. Maybe, but again this needs to be researched, we already find the descendants of those people in airports all over the world, particularly in the Middle East, where new staff is constantly needed, willing to work at all hours of the day and to engage in ‘dirty’ work, albeit in more modern conditions. Notes 1. Gandhi cited in Adams (2010: 216). 2. For Gandhi’s reverential attitude towards Bhangis, see his speech at the closing session of the Inter-Asian Relations Conference held on 2 April 1947 at New Delhi.URL (consulted September 2012) http://www.gandhiserve.org/information/listen_to_gandhi/lec_2_iarc/ lec_2_iarc.html 3. An earlier version of this article was presented at the Fourth Biennial Conference of the Gujarat Studies Association in Dubai, February 2012. I am grateful to the audience for their instructive comments. 4. This familiar episode is recounted in Chapter IX of Gandhi (1987 [1927]). The child his wife Kasturba was carrying died a few days after being born, a tragedy which Gandhi, characteristically, blamed upon his failure to restrain his sexual appetite. 5. Gandhi’s opposition to ‘Western science’, along with the rest of ‘Western civilisation’, in favour of purportedly superior ‘Indian’ religious culture, is the major theme in his declaratory Hind Swaraj. Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Mattausch: Gandhi’s Prescription167 6.This was noted over three centuries ago, appropriately enough by an English doctor, at Surat in the 1670s (see Fryer, 1698: 200). 7. One of the peer reviewers observed that in a metropolis like London today, much of the cleaning of toilet occurs invisibly before office goers reach their desks in the morning. It appears that we need fresh research about the various people that are today doing such ‘dirty’ work for others. 8.For example, Hunt (1978) omits any discussion on these topics and yet it is hard to imagine that Gandhi’s adventures with British toilets were any less notable than modernday European visitors confronting India’s toilets for the first time. 9. Again, one of the anonymous reviewers pointed to intriguing recent evidence from Mumbai about the various benefits of being hired by local authorities for performing polluting tasks. This evidence relates directly to dalit groups that migrated over time to the city from Gujarat. For details, albeit in a rather different context, see Solanki (2011: 175–86). 10. For a nasty example of the dangers of working in sewers, see ‘Tragedy at the Farm, Railway and Sewer’, a report on the death of a boy aged 14 in the Manchester Guardian of 17 September 1851. He had become wedged in a sewer pipe and died, eleven hours later, before he could be rescued. URL (consulted 30 August 2012) http://www.theguardian. com/theguardian/2011/sep/19/archive-tragedy-at-the-farm-1851 11. The separation of waste solids from liquids did not occur, in London, for a further thirty years after work had started on the new sewers. After 1887 solids were taken by sludge barges and dumped in the ocean, while liquids were chemically treated before being pumped into the Thames. 12. The rather obscure Rajasthanik Court had been modelled on the Cutch Jhareja Court and was in session from 1873 until 1899. For some discussion of this court, see Wilberforce-Bell (1916: 230–31), where the date for the cessation of the Rajasthanik Court is erroneously given as 1890. See also Bombay Central Government (1876: 10). 13. The figures are taken from the 2001 Census of India for Gujarat (Volume 24), Housing Profile, Tables H-8 and H-10. 14. This figure for Gujarat’s night scavenger population is taken from WaterAid India (2009). 15. For distressing details of atrocities visited upon Gujarat’s dalits, see Centre for Dalit Human Rights (2008). 16. See Volume 1: 152. URL (consulted 8 September 2012) http://dsal.uchicago.edu/reference/ gazetteer/ 17. Meanwhile, others in Gujarat have fallen into economic despair and face awkward choices between accepting ‘dirty’ work and destitution. For much depressing evidence on the situation in Ahmedabad, see Breman and Shah (2004). References Adams, Jad (2010) Gandhi: Naked Ambition. London: Quercus. Anderson, Warwick (2010) ‘Crap on the Map, or Postcolonial Waste’, Postcolonial Studies, 13(2): 169–78. Arnold, David (2001) Gandhi: Profiles in Power. London: Longman. Bombay Central Government (1876) Report on the Administration of the Bombay Presidency. Part II. Bombay: Central Government Press. South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 168 South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Breman, Jan & Shah, Parthiv (2004) Working in the Mill No More. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Carter, W. Hodding (2006) Flushed: How the Plumber Saved Civilization. New York: Atria Books. Centre for Dalit Human Rights (2008) Justice Undelivered. Public Hearing on the Lack of Enforcement of the Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989 in Gujarat. URL (consulted 8 September 2012) https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=ju stice+undelivered+dalits&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-GB:official&client=firefoxa&gws_rd=cr&ei=Q31FUvuIBonO0wWCsoCAAg Chadwick, Edwin (1842) Report on the Sanitary Condition of the Labouring Population and on the Mean of its Improvement. London: R. Clowes & Sons. URL (consulted 30 August 2012) http://codesproject.asu.edu/sites/default/files/code_pdfs/Chadwicks%27sreport.pdf Chaplin, Susan (1999) ‘Cities, Sewers and Poverty: India’s Politics of Sanitation’, Environment and Urbanization, 11(1): 145–58. Copland, Ian (1982) The British Raj and the Indian Princes. Bombay: Orient Longman. Douglas, Mary (1966) Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Eveleigh, David (2006) Bogs, Baths and Basins: The Story of Domestic Sanitation. Thrupp: Sutton Publishing. Fisher, Julie & Cotton, Andrew (2005) Learning from the Past Delivery of Water and Sanitation Services to the Poor in Nineteenth Century Britain. URL (consulted 30 August 2012) http:// www.lboro.ac.uk/well/resources/Publications/Briefing%20Notes/BN%20Learning.htm Fryer, John (1698) A New Account of East-India and Persia, in Eight Letters. London: Chiswell. Gandhi, Mohandas (1987 [1927]) An Autobiography OR The Story of My Experiments with Truth. Ahmedabad: The Navajivan Trust. Halliday, Stephen (2007) The Great Filth: The War Against Disease in Victorian England. Chalfount: Sutton Publishing. Hay, Stephen (1969) ‘Between Two Worlds: Gandhi’s First Impressions of British Culture’, Modern Asian Studies, 3(4): 305–19. Hunt, James (1978) Gandhi in London. New Delhi: Promilla & Co. Kincaid, Charles (1934) Forty-Four Years A Public Servant. Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons. Mattausch, John (2012) ‘“Where There Is One Gujarati, There Is Gujarat”: The Integration of Hindus in the United Kingdom’. In Sharmina Mawani & Anjoom Mukadam (Eds), Gujarati Communities Across the Globe: Memory, Identity and Continuity (pp. 190–209). London and Stoke-on-Trent: Trentham Books. Mayhew, Henry (1851) London Labour and the London Poor. Volume 2: London: Griffin, Bohn & Company. URL (consulted 7 September 2012) http://hdl.handle.net/10427/14951 Park, John & Schaller, Mark (2009) ‘Parasites, Minds and Cultures’, The Psychologist, 22(11): 942–5. Solanki, Gopika (2011) Adjudication in Religious Family Laws: Cultural Accommodation, Legal Pluralism, and Gender Equality in India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Spodek, Howard (1971) ‘On the Origins of Gandhi’s Political Methodology: The Heritage of Kathiawad and Gujarat’, The Journal of Asian Studies, 30(2): 361–72. Tam, Stephanie (2012) Coprology and Caste: The Status of Sewerage in Ahmedabad, India. (Working Paper No.12-002). Evanston and Chicago: Northwestern University. The Roberta Buffet Centre for International and Comparative Studies. Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Mattausch: Gandhi’s Prescription169 WaterAid India (2009) Burden of Inheritance (October). URL (consulted 9 September 2012) http://www.wateraid.org/~/media/Publications/manual-scavenging-india.pdf Wilberforce-Bell, Captain Harold (1916) The History of Kathiawad from the Earliest Times. London: Heinemann. Dr John Mattausch is a Lecturer in the Department of Politics and International Relations, Royal Holloway College, University of London. For the past 20 years he has been researching diverse topics concerning the joint history of Britons and Gujaratis from 1608 up to the present day. His publications and academic interests are listed at http://pure.rhul.ac.uk/portal/en/persons/john-mattausch%28bf129ac3-a08e-46e28fbc-de8aa16a93e2%29.html. Address: Department of Politics & International Relations, Royal Holloway College, Egham, Surrey TW20 0EX, UK. [e-mail: [email protected]] South Asia Research Vol. 34 (2): 155–169 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016 Downloaded from sar.sagepub.com at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on March 6, 2016
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