“THE MARCHERS SIMPLY WALKED FORWARD UNTIL STRUCK DOWN” Nonviolent Suffering and Conversion

Exponents of nonviolence such as Mahatma Gandhi and Richard B. Gregg insisted that nonresisting suffering in a given cause would “melt the heart” of an opponent and lead to their conversion. The psychological literature anda major example of when such conversion should have been achieve&the nonviolent “mids” on the salt works at Dharasana by Gandhi ‘s followers during the 1930 Salt Satygraha-40 not support this hypothesis. In f i t , sgering ojien elicits greater acts of repression and violence. Nevertheless, a form of conversion, far less direct or immediate than that suggested by the original theory, does seem to OCCUI:

‘“HE MARCHERS SIMPLY WALKED FORWARD UNTIL STRUCK DOWN” Nonviolent Suffering and Conversion

by Thomas Wekr

Mahatma Gandhi claimed that satyagraha, his principle- (as opposed to policy-) based method of nonviolence was a way of reaching the truth, that it worked through conversion rather than coercion, and that the driving force of conversion was self-suffering on the part of the satyagrahi that could “melt the heart” of the opponent. The purpose of this article is to examine that assertion.

Although conversion usually refers to religious change, it also has a wider meaning. There are varieties of conversion, and the process of change may occur at varying speeds from that charac- terized by sudden revelation to the far more gradual.’ There is a dearth of empirical studies on the unconscious and psychic mech- anisms involved in conversion, and the literature that does exist is very general. However, from it can be concluded that conversion manifests itself as a change in personal thoughts, feelings, and

AUIHOR’S NOTE: I would lik to thmk Ralph Summy of the Department of Government at the University of Qucensland and Mcsm M. V. Naidu of the Department of Political Science at Brandon University for valuable wmments 011 an earlier version of this article.

PEACE C CHANGE, h l . 18 No. 3. July 1993 267-289 €3 1993 Councilon Pem Rmarcb in History and Cwsodum on Pcacc Rcscarch Education and Dcvdopment

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268 PEACE & CHANGE / July 1993

actions, often preceded by “anguish, turmoil, despair, conflict, guilt, and other such difficulties.”’ It is generally agreed that almost all conversion follows upon some kind of crisis in which previous standards, goals, and beliefs cease to function well and the conversion can be described as a coping mechanism. The crisis need not be spiritual, but may be political, psychological, or ~ultural .~

NONVIOLENCE AND CONVERSION: THE THEORY

Gandhi had great faith in human goodness. For him, the whole notion of conversion rested upon the assumption that the opponent is open to reason, that they have a conscience, that human nature is such that it is bound, or at least likely, to “respond to any noble and friendly a~t ion.”~

The classical formulation of the way in which self-suffering is supposed to induce conversion was made by Richard Gregg in 1934. He termed the process, in which an opponent loses his or her moral balance, “moral jiu-jitsu.”

He suddenly and unexpectedly loses the moral support which the usual violent resistance of most victims would render him. He plunges forward, as it were, into a new world of values. He feels insecure because of the novelty of the situation and his ignorance of how to handle it. He loses his poise and self-confidence. The victim not only lets the attacker come, but as it were, pulls him forward by kindness, generosity, and voluntary suffering, so that the attacker loses his moral balance.’

Gandhi himself summarized this process thus:

I seek to blunt the ends of the tyrant’s sword, not by putting against it a sharper edged weapon but by disappointing his expectation that I would be offering physical resistance. The resistance of the soul that I should offer instead would elude him. It would at first dazzle him and at last compel recognition from him which recognition would not humiliate him but uplift him!

Talking about international conflict, Gandhi pushed the logic of this process to its obvious conclusion when he stated that, in the face of violent invasion, nonviolent defenders

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Would offer themselves for the aggressor’s cannon . . . the unex- pected spectacle of endless rows upon rows of men and women simply dying rather than surrender to the will of an aggressor must ultimately melt him and his soldiery.’

Gandhi adds that an army that is brutal enough to go “over the corpses of innocent men and women would not be able to repeat that experiment.”* At the time India was faced with Japanese invasion, Gandhi claimed that

men can slaughter one another for years in the heat of battle, for them it seems a case of kill or be killed. But if there is no danger of being killed yourself by those you slay, you cannot go on killing defenceless and unprotesting people endlessly. You must put down your gun in self-disgust?

Negley Farson, a correspondent for the Chicago Daily News, reported an incident that occurred during the Salt Satyagraha of 1930 that seemed to back up Gandhi’s assertion. He witnesscd a large and powerful Sikh leader offer no resistance to a savage Zahti (long bamboo baton, usually steel-tipped) beating he was receiving:

He was being struck on the head. I stood about six feet from him and watched. He was hit until his turban came undone and his topknot was exposed. A few more blows and his hair came undone and fell down over his face. A few more blows and the blood began to drip off his dangling black hair. He stood there with his hands at his side. Then a particularly heavy blow and he fell forward on his face. . . . [The police officer] drew back his arm for a final swing. . . . and dropped his hands down by his side. “It’s no use,” he said, turning to me with half an apologetic grin. “You can’t hit a bugger when he stands up to you like that.” He gave the Sikh a mock salute and walked off.”

The role of self-suffering is, in the words of Gandhian theorist Joan Bondurant, to break a deadlock, to “cut through the rational- ized defenses of the opponent.”” According to Gandhi, the aim is to convert an opponent “by sheer force of character and suffering.’’’2 This method is used because “reason has to be strengthened by suffering, and suffering opens the eyes of under~tanding,~”~ for an “appeal of reason is more to the head, but penetration of the heart comes from suffering. It opens up the inner understanding of

270 PEACE & CHANGE I July 1993

man.”14 Furthermore, “suffering is infinitely more powerful than the Law of the Jungle for converting the opponent and opening his ears, which are otherwise shut, to the voice of ~eason.”’~ And even, “suffering will melt the stoniest heart of the stoniest fanatic,”I6 “real suffering bravely borne melts even a heart of stone,”” or “the hardest heart and the grossest ignorance must disappear before the rising sun of suffering without anger and without malice.””’ Was the heart of the policeman beating the Sikh penetrated by

the nonresisting suffering? Did the suffering open the “eyes of understanding” or the “ears of reason”? It is, of course, possible that that was the mechanism causing him to cease his attack. It is also possible that the reason was somewhat different.

One potentially fruitful avenue of inquiry into the dynamics of such interaction is the psychological literature on the outcome of nonviolent responses to violent attack.

NONVIOLENCE AND CONVERSION: THE PSYCHOLOGICAL EVIDENCE

It appears that Gandhi and Gregg placed too much emphasis on the Occurrence of rapid conversion through an effort of will result- ing from shame or remorse. In fact, in the short term, the opposite is more likely to occur.

Psychologist Leroy Pelton, who has written a detailed and schol- arly book on the psychological aspects of nonviolence, claims that the idea of self-suffering melting the heart of an opponent is a gross oversimplification, that it may even “elicit a negative reaction towards the ~ictim.”’~ He points out that the psychological literature strongly suggests that we may “dislike those who suffer, because they suffer.” In conclusion to studies testing this hypothesis, Learner claims that people have a need to believe in a “just world” where “people get what they deserve and deserve what they get.””

It seems that we have a strong inbuilt desire to believe that “good things happen to good people and serious suffering comes only to bad people.” When we see others suffering, or expect that they will suffer, we tend to believe that they deserved their fate. And, para-


doxically, this reaction can be most extreme in the case of the person suffering for altruistic motives. These cases are the most threaten- ing to a belief in a just world.*’

Presumably those that cause suffering have a need to see themselves as just and this may consequently lead to an increased devaluation of the victim.u It seems the greater the social distance between the perpetrator of suffering (or audience) and the victim, the easier it is to have such a reaction.

Miller, a Christian interpreter of nonviolence, in talking of civil rights demonstrators in the southern United States, concluded that “opponents were seldom if ever won over to the side of justice as a result of voluntary suffering or Christian love on the part of the demonstrators.” Instead, it was economic pressures and desires for stability and civil order that led to success. The dormant con- sciences that were stirred belonged to “white students, liberals and churchmen,” not to the racial supremacists.u

To touch the heart of the opponent, it appears that some form of feeling of identification with the victim is necessary; the social distance must not be too great. However, in situations of self-suffering in the face of violence, especially direct violence, by definition, the social distance is so great that there is a lack of identification. A rapid conversion through reason upon realization of suffering caused is unlikely.

NONVIOLENCE AND CONVERSION: THE POLITICAL DEBATE

There is also apolitical consideration to this argument. The point is often made that nonviolence works against fair-minded and decent people (and for many this is why it worked against the British in Indiaa), but it would never work against a bloody dictator who is without conscience; that is, it would never work against a Hitler or a Stalin.

The skeptical George Orwell spelled out the problem in its starkest form in his essay “Reflections on Gandhi,” in which he made the point that


it is difficult to see how Gandhi’s methods could be applied in a country where opponents of the regime disappear in the middle of the night and are never heard of again. Without a free press and the right of assembly, it is impossible not merely to appeal to outside opinion, but to bring a mass movement into being, or even make your intentions known to your adversary?’

In short, according to this argument, nonviolence does not work against the extremely ruthless opponent,% and, according to Michael Walzer, may in fact be less than useless: “Nonviolence, under extreme conditions, collapses into violence directed at oneself rather than at one’s murde~ers.”~’ However, in the classical formulation of the theory concerning the working of conversion through self-suffering, this is precisely the point.

At the level of large social or international conflicts, an analysis of power is necessary to understand the dynamics of this process. This is an area in which leading nonviolence theorists, especially Gene Sharp, have written extensively.28 In this more pragmatic formulation, there is little or no talk of conversion. The question revolves around overcoming an opponent’s domination by undermining the opponent’s power base, coercing them into submission. That nonviolent action can be effective in undermining the political power of dictatorial rulers has been amply demonstrated by recent examples in the Philippines, the ex-Soviet Union, and Thailand, as well as in the countless historical examples chronicled by Sharp. However, these analyses and examples leave the consideration of the possibility of conversion untouched.

Can conversion, not merely victory, be achieved by nonviolent action? Perhaps the best way of tackling this question is through an examination of the most celebrated Gandhian action based on nonresisting self-suffering: the brutally suppressed nonviolent “raids,” by the followers of the man who did most to propagate the concept that self-suffering induced conversion, on the salt works at Dharasana following the Mahatma’s celebrated 1930 “salt march” to the seaside village of Dandi to shake the might of the British empire by making illicit salt.


A CASE STUDY THE RAIDS ON THE SALT WORKS AT DHARASANA

Just before his arrest by British authorities, to up the ante during the Salt Satyagraha, Gandhi addressed a letter to his “dear friend,” the Viceroy Lord Irwin, declaring his intention to proceed with his march and “to set out for Dharasana and reach there with my companions . . . and demand possession of the Salt Works.”29

A week after the Mahatma’s detention, his immediate companions were arrested as they started toward the salt depot.30 The government had claimed that the salt at Dharasana belonged to professional salt manufacturers and not to public a~thorities.~’ Gandhi’s lieutenants countered this argument by stressing the nonviolent nature of the intended raid and by declaring that the raid was not a robbery but the taking back of national

After the arrest of Gandhi’s group, many volunteers rushed to Untadi village, near the salt works, to prepare for the raids without the necessity of several days walk before commencing the action. The raids were to commence on May 15, under the direction of India’s “nightingale,” the Gandhi devotee poetess Sarojini Naidu.

At the 4:30 a.m. prayer meeting, Naidu reaffirmed the insistence on nonviolence, and the marchers assembled in batches of fifty. Two hours later, the first batch set off. At 7:05, armed with wire cutters, they entered the limits of the custom’s house, where they were stopped by apolice superintendent and sixty policemen armed with lathis. The marchers were told that they could go no further. A stalemate developed, with both sides sitting down facing each other and, in a good humored way, attempting to wear down the patience of the other.” The police requested the salt pan workers to ask the satyagrahis to leave, to tell them that they were not wanted. This the workers refused to do, so they, too, were excluded from the pansu

Food and bedding was withheld from the raiders, and, regardless of the heat of a Gujarati summer, no water was allowed through until late that night. The following morning, breakfast was allowed to be delivered to the satyagrahis.


Back at the Untadi camp, another three batches of fifty satyagrahis each prepared to march on the salt works in the early morning of May 16. They joined their colleagues at the police blockade. Naidu and the two hundred marchers were formally arrested and removed outside the area of the salt works and re- leased.3’ Some reports have it that, after Naidu’s arrest, the others were “heavily beaten with lathis. They were dragged and thrown in the ditches. Some were dragged further away and thrown in the thorns. . . . Many of [the volunteers] had to be hospitalised.”M

Whatever the truth of claims of violence on the second morning of the action, the propaganda value of the events was quickly seized upon. The widely covered story of the twenty-seven-hour stalemate ensured that there would be no shortage of volunteers for future raids, and the news of the withholding of food and water from the popular Naidu led to the refusal to supply food to government officials in many places.

It was decided to send batches out every morning to “raid” salt. These next few raids were also reasonably tame affairs. Although there were some injuries, generally, again, the game was one of waiting. The salt was raked into heaps and surrounded by barbed wire and police. Most of the raiding time was spent sitting facing the barricade and the guards, occasionally surrounding them, occasionally being surrounded by them.

On May 17, a larger raid was conducted. At 6:OO a.m., a deter- mined group set out with wire-cutting implements and ropes to broach the perimeter fence. They were lathi charged, grabbed, and dragged outside the salt works area. Up to this point, the “hostili- ties” had generally been “friendly and actually good natured.”37 Without fear of a loss of momentum on the Gandhian side, this situation could not be maintained for long.

On May 20, the decision was taken to enlarge the struggle and put pressure on the government to resort to more severe acts of repre~sion.~~ The “war council,” consisting of Mrs. Naidu and the captains of the various volunteer groups, decided to adopt all available means short of violence (defined in broad Gandhian terms) toward the police in future attempts to get through the wire fence to the salt. It was further decided that the volunteers were not


to return to camp until they had accomplished what they set out to do. Plans were made for an extensive mass action the following day. The real battle was about to begin.

The moving scenes of May 21 were observed by the American United Press correspondent Webb Miller. William Shirer, another American reporter who also worked for some time in India, said of his colleague that “Miller, one of the great American foreign cor- respondents, was a sensitive man, but in his dispatches he some- how managed to keep his emotions more in check than most of the rest of us did. This time, however, he could not hold them

Miller’s now historic account, besides being one of the more famous pieces of political reporting, was the main vehicle for transmitting facts of the raid to the outside world. And this was crucial to the dynamics of any conversion that may have been induced by nonviolent suffering. It, therefore, warrants quoting at length:

Mme Naidu called for prayer before the march started and the entire assemblage knelt. She exhorted them: Gandhi’s body is in jail but his soul is with you. India’s prestige is in your hands. You must not use any violence under any circumstances. You will be beaten but you must not resist; you must not even raise a hand to ward off blows. . . .

In complete silence, the Gandhi men drew up and halted a hundred yards from the stockade. A picked column advanced from the crowd, waded the ditches, and approached the barbed-wire stockade. . . . Police officials ordered the marchers to disperse. . . . The column silently ignored the warning and slowly walked forward. I stayed with the main body, about a hundred yards from the stockade.

Suddenly at a word of command, scores of native police rushed upon the advancing marchers and rained blows on their heads with their steel-shod lathis. Not one of the marchers even raised an arm to fend off the blows. They went down like ten-pins. From where I stood, I heard the sickening whacks of the clubs on unprotected skulls. The waiting crowd of watchers groaned and sucked in their breaths in sympathetic pain at every blow. Those struck down fell sprawling, unconscious or writhing in

pain with fmctwed skulls or broken shoulders. In two or three minutes the ground was quilted with bodies. Great patches of blood widened on their white clothes. The survivors without breaking ranks silently and doggedly marched on until struck down. . . .


Then another column formed while the leaders pleaded with them to retain their self-control. They marched slowly towards the police. Although every one knew that within a few minutes he would be beaten down, perhaps killed, I could detect no signs of wavering or fear. They marched steadily with heads up, without the encourage- ment of music or cheering or any possibility that they might escape serious injury or death. The police rushed out and methodically and mechanically beat down the second column. There was no fight, no struggle; the marchers simply walked forward until struck down. There were no outcries, only groans after they fell. . . .

The Gandhi men altered their tactics, marched up in groups of twenty-five and sat on the ground near the salt pans, making no effort to draw nearer . . . a . . . sergeant of police named Antia . . . called upon them to disperse under the non-assemblage ordinance. The Gandhi followers ignored them and refused even to glance up at the lathis brandished threateningly above their heads. Upon a word from Antia the beating recommenced boldly, without anger. Bodies toppled over in threes and fours, bleeding from great gashes on their scalps. Group after group walked forward, sat down, and submitted to being beaten into insensibility without raising an arm to fend off the blows.

Finally, the police became enraged by the non-resistance, sharing, I suppose, the helpless rage I had already felt at the demonstrators for not fighting back. They commenced savagely kicking the seated men in the abdomen and testicles. The injured men writhed and squealed in agony, which seemed to inflame the fury of the police. . . . The police then began dragging the sitting men by the arms or feet, sometimes for a hundred yards, and throwing them into ditches. One was dragged to the ditch where I stood; the splash of his body doused me with muddy water. Another policeman dragged a Gandhi man to the ditch, threw him in, then belaboured him over the head with his luhti. Hour after hour stretchers-bearers carried back a stream of inert, bleeding bodies. . . .

By eleven, the heat reached 116 in the shade and the activities of the Gandhi volunteers subsided. I went back to the temporary hospital to examine the wounded. They lay in rows on the bare ground in the shade of an open, palm-thatched shed. I counted 320 injured, many still insensible with fractured skulls, others writhing in agony from kicks in the testicles and stomach . . . and two had died. The demonstration was finished for the day on account of the heat.40

Reports have it that, during the day, 700 of the 1,570 volunteers were beaten. Of these, 320 were hospitalized. Injuries were occur-


ring faster than the stretcher bearers and the limited number of shelters could cope.4’ The raids and the beating continued for several more days.

The raids of May 3 1 saw new heights of brutality, with the police unmercifully beating the raiders and allegedly charging them and hunting them down from horseback. By one account, at day’s end 11 1 of 165 raiders were in the hospital seriously wounded, and all the rest had received minor injuries. All the raids planned for the day could not be carried out-the casualty figures were so high that some batches of raiders had to be used to evacuate the injured to the hospital instead. Red Cross workers were denied access to the wounded, and, according to nationalist sources, “even press report- ers were chased away” to prevent bad p~blicity.~’

As with previous practice, the official government reports of the raid naturally gave quite a different picture. A communiquC issued by the Bombay director of information, explaining the role of the horses in the May 31 raid, claimed that “a corporal and four mounted signalers were asked to enter the field in order to see if the volunteers would thus be dissuaded from attacking.” The horsemen rode to cut off an approaching party of raiders. “Some half a dozen of the attackers got into the salt pans where they were easily caught, but the remainder, on seeing the horses, turned tail and fled with the horses after them. The whole affair was over in a few minutes and no casualties whatever resulted as the mounted men did not come into contact with the volunteers nor had they any sticks or weapons in their hands.” The deputy inspector-general of police reported that there were no casualties at all that day, but there was “an abundance of feigning and shamming.” The tactic, he claimed, was for the raiders to lay down when met by the police in the prohibited area. “When ordered to go most of them responded but some had to be carried off and dumped outside. Those who obeyed orders escaped Scott-free, the obstinate ones received a moderate amount of beating.”43

In the raid of June 1, according to the claims of the Gandhians, of the 162 raiders, 115 were wounded-25 of them seriously-and 15 rendered unconscious. “One satyagrahi was vomiting blood and two were getting convulsions.” Stories of torture abounded-lathis


jammed up anuses, testicles squeezed, thorns stuck into bodies, salt mud put in mouths, and heads dipped into ditch water.”

The propaganda war paralleled the war on the fields of Dharasana. The government communiqui. said of the raid that

It is here interesting to note that on this occasion aproportion of the raiders appeared very disgruntled at finding themselves in the firing line; it seems that they had been induced to “join up” on condition that they would not be used as attacking troops but would be given odd jobs about the camp, etc. They had not bargained for an active part in the operations while their leaders were occupied elsewhere in more pleasant positions.4’

There was a further raid on June 3 that was observed by two, admittedly proraider eyewitnesses of high standing: the president of the Servants of India Society and an ex-judge of the Bombay Small Causes Court. They described brutal scenes of lathi beatings and horse charges. The government countered by claiming that most of the would-be raiders left the area when warned by the police “but some force had to be used to disperse the more obstinate of their members.” The charges of “testicle squeezing and other such outrages” were totally denied. The stories of full hospitals were also denied. The communiqui. claimed that there were only a few pa- tients with bruises and added, “If, as has been alleged, satyagrahis lying passively on the ground had been ridden over by galloping mounted troops, would there not have been plenty of casualties showing unmistakable signs of hoof marks available for inspec- tions, and as it has been admitted that the chief object of the latter raids was propaganda, would not care have been taken to ensure that this evidence was utilised to its full value?” The report claimed that no such cases were shown to those government officials who visited the hospital.46

Gandhi’s chief Western disciple, Mirabehn (Madeleine Slade), visited the nearby town of Bulsar on June 6, the day of the frnal raid, as the casualties were being brought in. In Gandhi’s paper Young India, she listed her findings, claiming that police behavior used to disperse nonviolent gatherings included lathi blows on head, chest, stomach, and joints; lathi thrusts to private parts and abdominal regions; stripping of men before beating; forceful re-

Webex I WALKED UNTIL STRUCK DOWN 279

moval of loin cloths and thrusting of sticks into the anus; squeezing of testicles until the victim lost consciousness; dragging of wounded men by legs and arms, often while they were being beaten; throwing wounded men into thorn hedges or salt water; riding horses over sitting and lying demonstrators; sticking pins and thorns into bodies, even when the victims were unconscious; beating men to unconsciousness; and the use of “foul language and bla~phemy.”~’

In the history cum propaganda booklet of the raids issued soon after the battle by the Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, the testimony of twelve doctors who treated the injured following the raids of May 29 and later at field hospitals was included. They reported that, of 797 volunteers sent out for raids, 450 had to be treated in hospital, with 27 head injuries; 16 face, eye and ear injuries; 12 neck injuries; 216 shoulder injuries; 73 chest injuries; 57 abdominal injuries; 229 back injuries; 193 thigh and leg injuries; 21 scrotum injuries; and 40 cases of U ~ C O ~ S C ~ ~ U S ~ ~ S S . ~ ~ The authors of the book, Dinkar Mehta, an ex-standby marcher to Gandhi’s original group, and Rangil Das Kapadia, a subeditor of the nationalist paper Bombay Chronicle, claimed that, altogether, 2,699 volunteers were sent into the field and that, of these, 1,333 were wounded and 4 died as a result of the beatings they re~eived.~’

The government reports meanwhile aimed at ridiculing the raiders and their leaders. For instance, the Bombay communiquC men- tions “on the lighter side” that a wide net had to be spread to catch enough conscript volunteers. The report continued that

The satyagrahis have included old men who when reaching the “line” have thankfully accepted a lift back to Untadi in a bullock cart, cycle scouts who on arrest have prayed to be allowed to go home, warriors who have asked to be beaten so that they could return and on receipt of a tap or two on the back of the legs have done so after some complaint that they are not sure that they have been beaten sufficiently to earn their meal tickets, and, best of all, a “leader” who denied his leadership, after reaching the fringe of the battle.s0

The viceroy wrote the king a letter in a similar vein, starting with the sentence, “Your Majesty can hardly fail to have read with


amusement the account of several battles for the Salt Depot at Dharasana.” After detailing a similar list of sham injuries and desires for “an honourable contusion or bruise,” Irwin concluded that “as Your Majesty will appreciate, the whole business was propaganda and, as such, served its purpose admirably ell."^'

The government claim that the “obvious futility of the raids appeared to have so depressing an effect that the next day witnessed a wholesale exodus of volunteers for Bulsar,” was, however, fairly close to the truth. The last camp leader, Chhaganlal Joshi, declared a postponement of the raids on June 3. Only the June 6 raid was held thereafter, before this phase of the campaign was abandoned. The official reason for the abandonment of the raids was proclaimed by Joshi’s statement that “nonviolent raids on Dharasana salt depots will be suspended for the season on account of the approaching monsoon after one more raid.”52 The last raid was to be held on the second-month anniversary of the inauguration of the salt campaign by Gandhi at Dandi. Volunteers however, were still arriving, and not a drop of rain had fallen by June 6. Some of the newly arrived volunteers were angry at the suspension and threatened to inform Gandhi of the lack of resolve. It appeared that the repression was so great and brutal that fewer volunteers were arriving from the outside, and it was certain that the rains would come soon and the campaign would have to be called off in the near future. Conse- quently, the leaders decided to cut their losses in terms of human suffering. Some of the leaders could just no longer send men out into the field to be beaten senseless.53

On June 18 the Surat district magistrate was able to report that “the remainder of the police force at Dharasana is to be evacuated tomorrow. The Hindu Salt Agents who had begun to boycott the works resumed business on the 16th, on which date they purchased 2234 Bengal maunds of salt and around 1800 ye~terday.”’~

What then did the raids achieve? They seem to indicate that those who talk of nonviolent action working in the realm of political power are correct, not those who believe that it can work through conversion. Even analysts from the Gandhi camp seem to reflect this conclusion. For example, the authors of Black Regime, the book detailing the incidents at Dharasana from the Congress and Gandhi

Weber I WALKED UNTIL STRUCK DOWN 28 1

side, with a large degree of accuracy, pointed out that “in three weeks, the eyes of millions of people have been rudely opened, the government has lost all the sympathy and faith some people had for it and in it. Its moral backbone is incurably br~ken.”’~ Mirabehn concluded of the government repression that “the whole affair is one of the most devilish, cold-blooded and unjustified in the history of nations. India has now realized the true nature of the British Ruj and with that realization the Ruj is doomed.”56

Perhaps the most accurate assessment of the success of the Dharasana raids was provided by Gandhi’s supporter Professor J. C. Kumarappa when he said, in somewhat less than ideal Gandhian language (gone was the talk of moral pressure through self-suffering bringing about a change of heart in the opponent), that

before we can pass judgement on our campaign it is well for us to be clear in our mind as to what was our goal. To the extent that we approach that goal we succeed and the measure by which we fall short of it we fail. Dharasana raid was decided upon not to get salt, which was only the means. Our expectations was that the Govern- ment would open fire on unarmed crowds. . . . Our primary object was to show the world at large the fangs and claws of the Govern- ment in all its ugliness and ferocity. In this we have succeeded beyond mea~ure.~’

The raids did not achieve independence for India-at least not immediately. The police that Miller observed were not converted by the unresisting suffering of those whom they were beating. He noted, as Pelton warns is likely to happen, that they became infuri- ated at the lack of resistance from their victims and increased their savagery. The high officials mocked the voluntary sufferers. But eventually, Britain did give up India, not only because its power base had been eroded by the Second World War but also because of increasing opposition from the Indian masses who witnessed the ugliness of imperialism at places like Dharasana.

The relationship between Britain and India following independence seems to indicate that, to some degree, the British had come to accept the legitimacy of the views expressed by Gandhi and his nonviolent followers. But can we say that any of this conversion was the result of the self-suffering during events such as those at Dharasana? Quite possibly we can.


HOW THEN DOES NONVIOLENT CONVERSION WORK?

Nonviolent self-suffering may lead to the direct conversion of an opponent;58 however, it appears that the process generally occurs in a way more circuitous than those, such as Gregg, who formulated the original theory, believed.

The clue to how conversion works is contained in the scene from Attenborough’s celebrated film Gandhi, in which the reporter Walker (to a large degree based on Miller), after witnessing the brutality at Dharasana, rushes to the nearest village telephone and rings his story through to the American press (something that probably could not be achieved from Untadi even sixty years later!). Miller’s moving prose helped to swing the pendulum of moral righteousness from the side of the British to that of the nationalists not just in the eyes of the uncommitted Indians but in the eyes of the world. His report appeared in 1,350 newspapers that were served by United Press and “sent a wave of shock through the civilized world.”sg

When self-suffering does not touch the heart of the opponent immediately, it may still do so through the agencies of third parties. The opponent may be converted indirectly if the endured suffering moves public opinion or the opinion of those closer to the perpetrator of the suffering to the side of the sufferers. Gandhi was candid enough to claim that “the method of reaching the heart is to awaken public opinion. Public opinion, for which one cares, is a mightier force than that of gunpowder.”60

In 1927, an important event occurred, which was to help the British justify their domination of India at a time when the nationalists were become ever more vocal in questioning it. That event was the publication of Katherine Mayo’s book Mother Zndi~.~’

The book was a sensation from the moment it appeared. Its purpose, according to the author, was to tell the American people about India, to convey “what a volunteer unsubsidised, uncommitted, and unattached, could observe of common things in daily human life.”62 Attempting this goal was important because the average American knew little else about the subcontinent other than


“that Mr. Gandhi lives there; also tigers.” The book was a damning account of social malpractices, the types that Gandhi had been fighting against for years-child marriages, untouchability, animal sacrifices, and so on-and was aimed at discrediting and slandering both the country and its recognized leader, Gandhi. Within a few months, the book had gone into twenty-seven editions, and sales topped the quarter-million mark. It became the most widely read book about India in the United States. And discredit India though it did, Gandhi managed to maintain his enigmatic, yet popular, image.

Mother India had greatly damaged the standing of Indians in the eyes of Americans-and at a time when it helped the British the most.63 Gandhi was anxious to redress this imbalance, and planning and circumstances came to his aid. The choice of the salt law as the one to contravene at the onset of the civil disobedience campaign was extremely fortunate from this perspective. The American press could not resist the analogy between Gandhi’s solemn manufacture of illicit salt and the famous Boston Tea Party. Editorials, even in influential American papers, forecast that, as Britain lost America through tea, it was about to lose India through salt. The British were worried by American press coverage (during the Salt March, lime magazine referred to the Mahatma as St. Gandhi, and made him its Man of the Year for 1930) and angered by American simplification of a complex issue. And with good reason-the tempting analogies and the positive publicity following an adherence to nonviolence in the face of physical attacks such as those at Dharasana, according to Negley Farson, “rubbed out Mother India as easily as you can clean a child’s late.'^

Gandhi’s great mentor, Tolstoy, noted in 1893 in his book The Kingdom of God Is Within You that

the individual seldom changes his life merely in accordance with the indications of reason, but as a rule, in spite of the new meaning and the new aims indicated by reason, continues to live his former life and changes it only when his life becomes entirely contradictory to his conscience, and, therefore, agonising.6’

It is likely that the living of such an “incongruent” life can become existentially dysfunctional at some stage and will force conver-


sional change in individual behavior,% but the incongruence itself is most likely to be initiated by being out of step with third parties who are in a close social relationship. Self-suffering that touches the heart of an audience at a closer social distance to the opponent or alters public opinion-the milieu in which he or she must live-has the best chance of influencing opponent attit~des.6~

The upshot of this argument is that the policeman who was beating the Sikh may not have stopped his brutality because his heart was melted by the voluntarily endured suffering but may have done so because the American journalist Farson was watching. It is more likely that he was shamed into modifying his behavior through the perceived probable disapproval of a peer rather than through the actions (or lack of actions) of his victim. And those ultimately responsible for the beating of the raiders at Dharasana were not converted by the suffering they were causing but because they had to examine their behavior when it became increasingly out of step with the moral standards of other international actors whose opinions mattered to them. The psychological pressure toward congruence is just as great at the interpersonal (and international) level as it is at the intrapersonal. This conclusion may be a little disappointing to idealists who want to believe that nonviolent conversion works by the most direct route, but it does not diminish the fact that conversion through suffering can work.

Some recent writing has looked at this connection. One of the most eminent theorists of peace and nonviolence, Johan Galtung, while examining the IsraeVPalestine conflict, has given a name to this indirect conversion brought about by self-suffering. He calls it the Great Chain of Nonviolence.

Galtung points out that there is truth in the proposition that Washington lost the Vietnam war in the streets of America, not the jungles of Asia.

Conversion comes through those

who are sufficiently close to the oppressors to be seen by them as human beings, and so touch the human nerve in them, if not in sympathy with the victim, at least in response to the demands put upon them by the intervening/interceding group. By the Other in the Self, in other words, since the Self in the Other has been erased!"

Weber / WALKED UNTIL STRUCK DOWN 285

He summarizes the great chain hypothesis through an analogy with a theory of classical physics that holds, for one thing to move another, there must be proximity in space and time, or there must be a field through which energy can be communicated.

Black people suffering nonviolently, making their plight evident, touchable, speakable, would not be enough. The field does not connect blacks with white supremacists. Nonviolence has to be communicated from group to group until it reaches the nucleus of the structure challenged through civil disobedience. And the field through which it operates is not spatial distance but social distance. Via social proximity this age-old principle in physical theory can be translated into social dynamics. The field has to reach all the way for a message to arrive undi~torted.6~

CONCLUSION

This article has more or less accepted the proposition that nonviolence works. The literature making this point is voluminous. The argument has concerned itself with the working of conversion in nonviolence, through the process of self-suffering. If conversion is more than remotely possible by the direct route, the police at Dharasana should have put down their lathis in disgust, and their leaders should have, as a minimum, curbed the brutal treatment of unarmed, nonthreatening, and nonresisting activists. (It would be interesting, were it possible, to plot the history of their individual attitudes to those they beat as public opinion changed).

Conversion-or, at the very least, the moving of public opinion leading to feelings of incongruence-does seem to work through self-suffering. However, the route is a little more tortuous and subtle than the early nonviolence theorists believed, although there is much in Gandhi’s actions and writings to indicate that, at least at an intuitive level, he did understand this process. Perhaps his optimistic faith in human reason and the basic goodness of human nature did not allow him consciously to reject the notion that conversion induced by self-suffering would work via the most direct and spontaneous path.


Following the ruthlessness at Dharasana, the convert was public opinion-not in the least American public opinion. And it was pressure from those at a closer social distance to the British authorities who were touched by the self-suffering that, in turn, initiated what conversion the imperial rulers eventually underwent. Al- though some may question whether a process that operates over such an extended time frame can still validly be called conversion rather than incremental changes brought about through myriad other causes with the passage of time, it nevertheless does seem appropriate to use that term for an acceptance of the legitimacy of the position of the sufferer, even if it occurs indirectly. Religious theorists have no difficulty in defining such slow processes as conversion-conversions rarely happen on the road to Damascus?’

The likes of Gandhi and Gregg provided us with a theory of conversion induced by self-suffering; events such as those at Dharasana in May and June of 1930 provide case studies for examining the theory; and in light of these examples of self-suffering, psychological researchers and peace theorists like Sharp and Galtung have enabled us to refine the theory, to come to a clearer understanding of the working of this powerful force. Gandhi admitted that his knowledge of nonviolence was a continually expanding one, that there was no definitive source to turn to as “satyagraha . . . is a science in the making.”” With further experimentation and analysis of the results, its workings become increasingly clear. Gandhi would be the most displeased if we accepted old dogmas without further experiments, if we did not stand on the shoulders of those who went before to see that little bit further.

NOTES

1. The classical discussion of conversion is contained in chepers 9 and 10 of William James’s seminal work 7% krielirs ofReligious ErpericnCe (New York: Modem Library, 1929).

2. L. R. Rambo, ‘%onversion,” io The Encyclopedia OfReligion, ed. M. Eliade. vol. 4.

3. Ibid.,75. 4. Young I&. August 4.1920,

(NCW York: Macmillan, 1987). 73-79. at 74.

Weber / WALKED UNTIL STRUCK DOWN 287

5. R. B. Gregg, The Power of Non-Violence, 2nd ed. (Ahmedabad, India: Navajivan,

6. Young India, October 8, 1925. 7. Hardan, April 13,1940. 8. Young India, December 13, 1931. 9. Quoted in PyarelaL Mahafma Gandhi: The Lasf Phase, vol. 2 (Ahmedabad, India:

10. N. Farson, “Indian Hate Lyric,” in We Cover the World, ed. E. Lyons (London:

11. J. Bondurant, The Conquesr of Violence: The Gandhian Philosophy of Conflict, rev.

12. Young India, September 18,1924. 13. Young India, March 19,1925. 14. Gandhi, quoted in G. Sharp, The Polifics of Nonviolenf Action (Boston: Porter

15. Young India, November 5, 1931. 16. Young India, June 4,1925. 17. M. K. Gandhi, Satyagraha in South Africa (Madras, India: S. Ganesan, 1928). 32. 18. Young India, February 19, 1925. 19. L. Pelton, The Psychology of Non- Violence (New York: Pergamon, 1974). 135,143. 20. Ibid., 137. 21. Ibid., 138. 22. Ibid., 140. 23. W. R. Miller, Nonviolence: A Chrisrian Inferprerarion (New Yo&: Association Press,

1964). 313. 24. On this point, see R. Vora and R. Bharadwaj, “Uncivilized Civility and Civilized

Satyagraha,” Gandhi Marg 3 (1985): 266-79; J. Galtung, Nonviolence and IsraeUPalesrine (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1989). 21-22.

25. G. Orwell, The Collected Essays, Journalism and Lefters of George Orwell, vol. 4. (Hmondsworth, England: Penguin, 1970). 529.

26. For the counter argument, see R. Summy, “Nonviolence and the Case of the Extremely Ruthless Opponent” (Unpublished manuscript, University of Queensland, 1991).

27. M. Walzer. Jusi and Unjusr Wars: A Moral Argument wirh Historical Illusrratiorrr (Harmondsworth, England: Penguin, 1980), 332.

28. See the first part of Sharp’s book, The Polirics of Nonviolenr Action, titled “Power and Struggle”; G. Sharp, Social Power and Political Freedom (Boston: Porter Sargent, 1980); B. Martin, “Gene Sharp’s Theory of Power,” Journal of Peace Research 26 (1989): 213-22; Summy. “Nonviolence and the Case of the Extremely Ruthless Opponent.”

1%0), 41.

Navajivan, 1950). 815.

George Harrap, 1937). 144.

ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1%7), 228.

Sargent, 1973), 709.

29. Young India, May 8, 1930. 30. See Young India, May 15, 1930; Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Black

Regime at Dharasana (A Brief Survey of the “Dharasana Raid”) (Ahmedabad, India: Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, 1930), 27-28; Bombay Chronicle, May 13, 1930; The Leader, May 1930; and the reminiscences of marcher Anand Hingorani in Northern Indian Patrika, March 12,1973.

31. Home Department Political Files 1814 1930. 32. I. E. Desai, Dharasanuni Shauryaghafha (Surat: Swatantraya Itihas, Samiti Jilla

33. New York ‘limes, May 16,1930. Panchayat Surat, 1973), 7.


34. J. Gandhi, Dhorasma no Jung (Gandhinagar, India: lnformation Department, Gujarat Government, 1978), 36.

35. G. Sharp, Gandhi Welds rhe Weapon of Moral Power (Three Case Histories) (Ahmedabad, India: Navajivan. 1960), 136-37; Chicago Daily News, May 17, 1930.

36. D i n k Mehta, Oral History, Oral History Interview Transcript, no. 300, Nehru Memorial Museum and Library, New Delhi, 58.

37. Sharp, Gandhi Welds the Weapon, 137; and see the eyewitness report by English reporter George Slocombe in the Daily Herald, May 19, 1930.

38. See 1. E. Desai, Dharasnnani Shauryaghatha, 15-16; G. Sharp, Gandhi Wields the Weapon, 137; Pyarelal and S. Nayar, in Gandhiji’s Mirror (New Delhi: Oxford University P ~ s , 1991). 88-89.

39. W. Shirer, Gandhi: A Memoir (New York Touchstone, 1979). 97. 40. W. Miller, I Found No Peace: The Journal of a Foreign Correspondent (Harmonds-

worth, England Penguin, 1940). 134-137. Copyright Q 1940; reproduced with the permis- sion of Penguin Books Ltd.

41. Young India. May 29,1930; Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Bkck Regime, 33-34.

42. Young India, June 5,1930; Cujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Black Regime, 50-52.

43. Communiqu-5 by director of information, Bombay, June 11,1930, Home Pol. 22/39 1930.

44. Young India, June 5,1930; Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Black Regime,

45. Home Pol. 22/39 1930. 46. Home Pol. 22/39 1930. 47. Young India, June 12,1930. 48. Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Black Regime, 90-91. 49. Mehta, Oml History. 61; Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Black Regime, 4. 50. Home Pol. 22/39 1930. 5 1. Quoted in Earl of Birkenhead, Halifar: The Life of Lord Halifax (Boston: Houghton

52. Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Black Regime, 60. 53. This information comes from interviews, conducted between October 1982 and

March 1983, with several of those. present during the final raids, including Chhaganlal Joshi, Sumangal M a s h , and Dinkar Mehta.

52-53.

Mifflin, 1966). 284.

54. Home Pol 247/2, Report 2 1930. 55. Gujarat Provincial Congress Committee, Bkzk Regime, 64. 56. Young India, June 12,1930. 57. Young India, May 29,1930. 58. Perhaps, with the recent rise of ecofeminism, the currently most often cited example

of nonviolent self-suffering directly melting the heart of a tyrant is the 1731 case of the death of 359 members of Rajasthan’s Bishnoi sect. Led by Amrita Devi, they died, hugging their sacred trees, at the hands of the maharaja’s axemen who had been ordered to cut their forests. When the news of the massacre reached the maharaja, he underwent a change of heart, apologized to the villagers, and granted perpetual security to the natural environment surrounding Bishnoi areas. See T. Weber, Hugging the Trees: The Story of the Chipko Movement, (New Delhi: Penguin, 1989). 91-93. For a discourse on the possibility of direct conversion and the factors that increase its likelihood, see G. Sharp, The Politics of Nonviolent Action, 710-17,726-31.


59. C. Seshachari, Gandhiand the American Scene: An Intellectual History and Inquiry

60. Young India, March 19,1925; see also Young India, October 8, 1929. 61. K. Mayo, Mother Indiu, (London: Jonathan Cape, 1927). 62. Ibid., 20. 63. See C. Seshachati, Gundhiund the American Scene, 50-54; W. W. Emilsen, “Gandhi

64. Farson. “Indian Hate Lyric,” 139. 65. L. Tolstoy, The Kingdom of God is within You: Or Christianiry Nor m a Mystical

Teaching but us a New Concepr of Life mew Yok Noonday, l%l), 117. 66. On this point, see Carl Rogers, On Becoming a Person: A Therapist’s View ofPsy-

chorherapy (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, l%l), 344-46; M. Rokeach, The Nature of Human Values (New York: Free Press, 1973).

67. See G. Sharp, The Politics of Nonviolent Action, 710. Although not quite realizing the complexity of the process, even Gregg notes that moral pressure can pave the way for conversion when the opponent “with the audience as asolt of mirror. . . realizes the contrast between his own conduct and that of the victim. In relation to the onlookers, the attacker with his violence perhaps begins to feel a little excessive and undignified-ven a little ineffectiveand by contrast with the victim, less generous and in fact brutal” (Gregg, The Power of Nan-Rolence, 43).

(Bombay: Nachiketa, 1969). 57.

and Mayo’s ‘Mother India,”’ South Asia 10 (1987): 69-8 1.

68. Galtung, Nonviolence and IsrueWalesrine, 20-21. 69. Ibid., 25. 70. There is, of course, a problem greater than the semantic for the proponents of

principle-based nonviolence. When the acceptance of legitimacy takes a long time and the path is less than direct, it could possibly also come about through the agency of nonviolent coercion, accommodation, or even violence. They have to convince the pragmatists that there is a reason for aiming at conversion through self-suffering, that there is at lemr an ethical superiority in choosing this, as opposed to another, change-inducing path. On this point, see T. Weber, ‘The Satyagrahi as Heroic Ideal” Gundhi Marg 11 (1989): 133-53; T. Weber, Conflict Resolution and Gundhian Ethics (New Delhi: Gandhi Peace Foundation, 1991). 32-36, 131-41.

71. Harijan, September 24, 1938.

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“THE MARCHERS SIMPLY WALKED FORWARD UNTIL STRUCK DOWN” Nonviolent Suffering and Conversion

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