Greatness Rediscovered...

Reverence can be blinding, rendering us incapable of viewing the subject impartially. All the more so when he or she is the primary symbol of an entire system of indoctrination.

The original and valid reason for the veneration is often forgotten with time, and only the residual aura and larger-than-life image remain. Long years of strife, sacrifice, discipline, determination and meticulous strategizing – they all degenerate into comic book heroism.

It is human tendency to place on a pedestal a person of superior qualities. If the ‘superior’ person is of any social relevance, a glass comes free with the pedestal. The transformation of a flesh-and-blood human being into a myth is, thus, complete.

Once the real, flesh-and-blood person gives way to the mythical hero, the next stage of the downfall begins.

When an image is portrayed across several generations as ‘perfect’, the resurfacing of relatively minor defects (which were a publicly-accepted part of the real life), can be devastating. This is because, the edifice of infallibility is usually not based on any in-depth study or understanding of the subject. It is based on a staple diet of legends, quotations and hearsay.

Add to this hype, the machinations of some who use the subject to further their own agenda and you have the stage set for the crumbling of any great image, and, sadly, the real personality too.

In short, the easiest way to make man’s achievements supremely un-repeatable is to turn that person into god. And the easiest way to pull that god down is to reduce his/her entire lifetime of fantastic achievements into myths and to portray the relatively unimportant failures as supreme flaws.

I, like most other Indians, have grown up in a system where, besides the 33,000 crore Hindu gods and a handful of non-Hindu ones, the society also thrust upon me a bunch of political gods.

So, when in my 20s I saw, heard and felt a new social wave assaulting these, by now brittle, characters for some compelling and otherwise mostly flimsy reasons, I was forced into a deepers understanding of these gods – call it modern theology, if you please!

Needless to say, Mahatma Gandhi, was on the top of that list.

The two most distinctive personalities I came across in my small-scale quest to understand Gandhi were Rabindranath Tagore (through his books of course) and Gopal Godse through his brother, Nathuram Godse’s writings, and personal tete-e-tetes.

Gopal Godse, for starters, was one of the five convicted in the Gandhi assassination case and the younger brother of Nathuram Godse, the man who shot Gandhi.

Tagore, who according to me had a better vision for mankind than Gandhi, was both a great critic as well as admirer of Gandhi. He joyfully welcomed Gandhi’s attempts to awaken the teeming masses of the subcontinent, who, till then, had been left in the cold by the political currents of the day. Tagore, however, decried Gandhi’s use of nationalism and religion as platforms for the process.

The ‘Mahatma’ title is said to be bestowed by the poet-philosopher, although according to records, Gandhi had received that title much before. In South Africa to be precise.

Godse, whom I met a few times as a post-graduate student in Pune, on the other hand, was obviously a virulent critic of Gandhi. An innate hatred for non-Hindu identities and a myriad image of past Indian glory had conviced him – contrary to stark facts – that Gandhi was out to defang ‘Hindus’ virility.

Both, Tagore and Godse, had the advantage of having spent a good part of their adult lives in the Gandhian era.

However, neither had the advantage of hindsight in forming their first impressions of the Mahatma. Neither, I will argue, did they have a deeper understanding of Gandhi’s mundane life and involvement in the humdrum of the politics of the day.

At best both Tagore and Godse had an overall view of Gandhi’s personality through his own speeches, media coverage and, worst of all, hearsay. In Godse’s case, one is compelled to believe that a strong ideologically-coloured perceptive filter played a major role (something Tagore was arguably bereft of).

That is where Mohandas – A True Story Of A Man, His People And An Empire scored a march over other critiques of Gandhi.

If meticulous research, uncomplicated language, and making full use of hindsight is the hallmark of a good biography, ‘Mohandas’ has just one word to describe it: “Brilliant”.

The author (whose name I would leave for the end) traverses the tedium that the reticent boy from Porbandar goes through in the process of transforming into one of the mightiest personalities of all times. I use the word “tedium” here because that is what the biographer chooses to highlight in this book -- the dull details that eventually added up into exhilarating upheavals.

For those looking for the ‘whys’ behind most of Gandhi’s decisive moves and acts – particularly the controversial ones – ‘Mohandas’ is a treasure-trove. Rarely is there any justification given for Gandhi’s thoughts. Most often, only the thoughts are presented.

Be it the better-known ones such as the Khilafat move, his troubled relationship with his eldest son Harilal, his experiments with Brahmacharya, his last fast or lesser understood ones like his relationship between Vallabhbhai Patel and Jawaharlal Nehru or his relationship with his wife Kastur, or his understanding of non-violence and Gita, ‘Mohandas’ cleared most of my doubts.

Those who think they know everything there is to know about the above list will be in for quite a few surprises.

The author attempts to gauge the man that Gandhi was, the human being that the Mahatma was, the mere mortal that the demi god was. The irritability, sadness, biases, prejudices, desperation and frustrations that went into the making of the Mahatma are curved out in delicious detail.

The most poignant aspect about being the Mahatma was that throughout his nearly 60-year career as a mass leader, he was constantly spending himself out emotionally. Yet, rarely did anyone realise that he too needed emotional replenishment. The great man too suffered pain, hurt and agony during the course of his interactions with the people around him – relatives or otherwise.

Trust me. The picture of Gandhi that emerged at the end of the biography was much more sober and humane. Nevertheless, at least for me, his humanity was all the more inspirational.

At the end of the book, I came to this conclusion: “I do not believe that Gandhi, with his credo of non-violence and truth, was a modern day god or demi-god on the lines of a Christ, the Prophet or Buddha. But I am increasingly convinced that the Prophet, Christ and Buddha were the Gandhis of their respective eras. The deficiencies of technology of their day and age elevated them to the status of gods.”

The author of the biography is Rajmohan Gandhi, the grandson of the protagonist. Now, before anyone is tempted to say, “No wonder”, let me just quote what M V Kamath of the Organizer – the RSS mouthpiece – has to say about the book:

“The only word to describe this work is ‘fabulous’. Literally scores of people have written on Mahatma Gandhi…But…Mohandas will henceforth be remembered as the last word on the subject.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Because -- despite being written about so much -- Gandhi remains one of the least understood of Indian national icons. But for sure, Rajmohan Gandhi’s Mohandas is a masterful contribution to those who are looking for the man behind the Mahatma.