To give a full account of the Champaran inquiry would be to narrate the
histroy, for the period, of the Champaran ryot, which is out of the
question in these chapters. The Champaran inquiry was a bold
experiment with Truth and Ahimsa, and I am giving week by week only
what occurs to me as worth giving from that point of view. For more
details the reader must turn to Sjt. Rajendra Prasad's history of
the Champaran Satyagraha in Hindi, of which, I am told, an English
edition1 is now in the press.
But to return to the subject matter of this chapter. The inquiry
could not be conducted in Gorakhbabu's house, without practically
asking poor Gorakhbabu to vacate it. And the people of Motihari had
not yet shed their fear to the extent of renting a house to us.
However, Brajkishorebabu tactfully secured one with considerable
open space about it, and we now removed there.
It was not quite possible to carry on the work without money. It had
not been the practice hitherto to appeal to the public for money for
work of this kind. Brajkishorebabu and his friends were mainly
vakils who either contributed funds themselves, or found it from
friends whenever there was an occasion. How could they ask the
people to pay when they and their kind could well afford to do so?
That seemed to be the argument. I had made up my mind not to accept
anything from the Champaran ryots. It would be bound to be
misinterpreted. I was equally determined not to appeal to the
country at large for funds to conduct this inquiry. For that was
likely to give it an all-India and political aspect. Friends from
Bombay offered Rs. 15,000, but I declined the offer with thanks. I
decided to get as much as was possible, with Brajkishorebabu's help,
from well-to-do Biharis living outside Champaran and, if more was
needed, to approach my friend Dr. P.J. Mehta of Rangoon. Dr. Mehta
readily agreed to send me whatever might be needed. We were thus
free from all anxiety on this score. We were not likely to require
large funds, as we were bent on exercising the greatest economy in
consonance with the poverty of Champaran. Indeed it was found
in the end that we did not need any large amount. I have an
impression that we expended in all not more than three thousand
rupees, and, as far as I remember, we saved a few hundred rupees
from what we had collected.
The curious ways of living of my companions in the early days were a
constant theme of raillery at their expense. Each of the vakils had
a servant and a cook, and therefore a separate kitchen, and they
often had their dinner as late as midnight. Though they paid their
own expenses, their irregularity worried me, but as we had become
close friends there was no possibility of a misunderstanding between
us, and they received my ridicule in good part. Ultimately it was
agreed that the servants should be dispensed with, that all the
kitchens should be amalgamated, and that regular hours should be
observed. As all were not vegetarians, and as two kitchens would
have been expensive, a common vegetarian kitchen was decided upon.
It was also felt necessary to insist on simple meals.
These arrangements considerably reduced the expenses and saved us a
lot of time and energy, and both these were badly needed. Crowds of
peasants came to make their statements, and they were followed by an
army of companions who filled the compound and garden to
overflowing. The efforts of my companions to save me from darshan-seekers
were often of no avail, and I had to be exhibited for darshan
at particular hours. At least five to seven volunteers were required
to take down statements, and even then some people had to go away in
the evening without being able to make their statements. All these
statements were not essential, many of them being repetitions, but
the people could not be satisfied otherwise, and I appreciated their
feeling in the matter.
Those who took down the statements had to observe certain rules.
Each peasant had to be closely cross-examined, and whoever failed to
satisfy the test was rejected. This entailed a lot of extra time but
most of the statements were thus rendered incontrovertible.
An officer from the C.I.D. would always be present when these
statements were recorded. We might have prevented him, but we had
decided from the very beginning not only not to mind the presence of
C.I.D. officers, but to treat them with courtesy and to give them
all the information that it was possible to give them. This was far
from doing us any harm. On the contrary the very fact that the
statements were taken down in the presence of the C.I.D. officers
made the peasants more fearless. Whilst on the one hand excessive
fear of the C.I.D. was driven out of the peasants' minds, on the
other, their presence exercised a natural restraint on exaggeration.
It was the business of C.I.D. friends to entrap people and so the
peasants had necessarily to be cautious.
As I did not want to irritate the planters, but to win them over by
gentleness, I made a point of writing to and meeting such of them
against whom allegations of a serious nature were made. I met the
Planters' Association as well, placed the ryots' grievances before
them and acquainted myself with their point of view. Some of the
planters hated me, some were indifferent and a few treated me with
courtesy.