I do not remember to have seen a handloom or a spinning wheel when in
1908 I described it in Hind Swaraj
as the panacea for the growing pauperism of India. In that book I
took it as understood that anything that helped India to get rid of
the grinding poverty of her masses would in the same process also
establish Swaraj. Even in 1915, when I returned to India from South
Africa, I had not actually seen a spinning wheel. When the
Satyagraha Ashram was founded at Sabarmati, we introduced a few
handlooms there. But no sooner had we done this than we found
ourselves up against a difficulty. All of us belonged either to the
liberal professions or to business; not one of us was an artisan. We
needed a weaving expert to teach us to weave before we could work
the looms. One was at last procured from Palanpur, but he did not
communicate to us the whole of his art. But Maganlal
Gandhi was not to be easily baffled. Possessed of a natural talent
for mechanics, he was able fully to master the art before long, and
one after another several new weavers were trained up in the Ashram.
The object that we set before ourselves was to be able to clothe
ourselves entirely in cloth manufactured by our own hands. We
therefore forthwith discarded the use of mill-woven cloth, and all
the members of the Ashram resolved to wear hand-woven cloth made
from Indian yarn only. The adoption of this practice brought us a
world of experience. It enabled us to know, from direct contact, the
conditions of life among the weavers, the extent of their
production, the handicaps in the way of their obtaining their yarn
supply, the way in which they were being made victims of fraud, and,
lastly, their ever growing indebtedness. We were not in a position
immediately to manufacture all the cloth for our needs. The
alternative therefore was to get our cloth supply from handloom
weavers. But ready-made cloth from Indian mill-yarn was not easily
obtainable either from the cloth-dealers or from the weavers
themselves. All the fine cloth woven by the weavers was from foreign
yarn, since Indian mills did not spin fine counts. Even today the
out-turn of higher counts by Indian mills is very limited, whilst
highest counts they cannot spin at all. It was after the greatest
effort that we were at last able to find some weavers who
condescended to weave Swadeshi yarn for us, and only on condition
that the Ashram would take up all the cloth that they might produce.
By thus adopting cloth woven from mill-yarn as our wear, and
propagating it among our friends, we made ourselves voluntary agents
of the Indian spinning mills. This in its turn brought us into
contact with the mills, and enabled us to know something about their
management and their handicaps. We saw that the aim of the mills was
more and more to weave the yarn spun by them; their co-operation
with the handloom weaver was not willing, but unavoidable and
temporary. We became impatient to be able to spin our own yarn. It
was clear that, until we could do this ourselves, dependence on the
mills would remain. We did not feel that we could render any service
to the country by continuing as agents of Indian spinning mills.
No end of difficulties again faced us. We could get neither spinning
wheel nor a spinner to teach us how to spin. We were employing some
wheels for filling pearns and bobbins for weaving in the Ashram. But
we had no idea that these could be used as spinning wheels. Once
Kalidas Jhaveri discovered a woman who, he said, would demonstrate
to us how spinning was done. We sent to her a member of the Ashram
who was known for his great versatility in learning new things. But
even he returned without wresting the secret of the art.
So the time passed on, and my impatience grew with the time. I plied
every chance visitor to the Ashram who was likely to possess some
information about hand spinning with questions about the art. But the
art being confined to women and having been all but exterminated, if
there was some stray spinner still surviving in some obscure corner,
only a member of that sex was likely to find out her whereabouts.
In the year 1917 I was taken by my Gujarati friends to preside at
the Broach Educational Conference. It was here that I discovered
that remarkable lady Gangabehn Majmundar. She was a widow, but her
enterprising spirit knew no bounds. Her education, in the accepted
sense of the term, was not much. But in courage and commonsense she
easily surpassed the general run of our educated women. She had
already got rid of the curse of untouchability, and fearlessly moved
among and served the suppressed classes. She had means of her own,
and her needs were few. She had a well seasoned constitution, and
went about everywhere without an escort. She felt quite at home on
horseback. I came to know her more intimately at the Godhra
Conference. To her I poured out my grief about the charkha, and she
lightened my burden by a promise to prosecute an earnest and
incessant search for the spinning wheel.