For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment

Experiment on Celibacy by Mahatma Gandhi, Part- I

Prof. Dr. Yogendra Yadav

Gandhian Scholar

Gandhi Research Foundation Jalgaon, Maharashtra, India

Contact No. - 09404955338, 09415777229

E-mail-dr.yadav.yogendra@gandhifoundation.net; dr.yogendragandhi@gmail.com

Experiment on Celibacy by Mahatma Gandhi, Part- I

Brahmacharya or spotless chastity is the best of all penances; a celibate of such spotless chastity is not a human being, but a god indeed... To the celibate who conserves the semen with great efforts, what is there unattainable in this world? By the power of the composure of the semen, one will become just like me. Brahmacharya is abstaining from all kinds of sexual enjoyment forever, in all places and in all conditions, physically, mentally and verbally. Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “We now reach the stage in this story when I began seriously to think of taking the brahmacharya vow. I had been wedded to a monogamous ideal ever since my marriage, faithfulness to my wife being part of the love of truth. But it was in South Africa that I came to realize the importance of observing brahmacharya even with respect to my wife. I cannot definitely say what circumstance or what book it was that set my thoughts in that direction, but I have a recollection that the predominant factor was the influence of Raychandbhai, of whom I have already written. I can still recall a conversation that I had with him. On one occasion I spoke to him in high praise of Mrs. Gladstone's devotion to her husband. I had read somewhere that Mrs. Gladstone insisted on preparing tea for Mr. Gladstone even in the House of Commons, and that this had become a rule in the life of this illustrious couple, whose actions were governed by regularity. I spoke of this to the poet, and incidentally eulogized conjugal love. 'Which of the two do you prize more,' asked Raychandbhai, 'the love of Mrs. Gladstone for her husband as his wife, or her devoted service irrespective of her relation to Mr. Gladstone? Supposing she had been his sister, or his devoted servant, and ministered to him the same attention, what would you have said? Do we not have instances of such devoted sisters or servants? Supposing you had found the same loving devotion in a male servant, would you have been pleased in the same way as in Mrs. Gladstone's case? Just examine the viewpoint suggested by me.'

Raychandbhai was himself married. I have an impression that at the moment his words sounded harsh, but they gripped me irresistibly. The devotion of a servant was, I felt, a thousand times more praiseworthy than that of a wife to her husband. There was nothing surprising in the wife's devotion to her husband, as there was an indissoluble bond between them. The devotion was perfectly natural. But it required a special effort to cultivate equal devotion between master and servant. The poet's point of view began gradually to grow upon me. What then, I asked myself, should be my relation with my wife? Did my faithfulness consist in making my wife the instrument of my lust? So long as I was the slave of lust, my faithfulness was worth noting. To be fair to my wife, I must say that she was never the temptress. It was therefore the easiest thing for me to take the vow of brahmacharya, if only I willed it. It was my weak will or lustful attachment that was the obstacle.

Even after my conscience had been roused in the matter, I failed twice. I failed because the motive that actuated the effort was none the highest. My main object was to escape having more children. Whilst in England I had read something about contraceptives. I have already referred to Dr. Allinson's birth control propaganda in the chapter on vegetarianism. If it had some temporary effect on me, Mr. Hills' opposition to those methods and his advocacy of internal effort as opposed to outward means, in a word, of self-control, had a far greater effect, which in due time came to be abiding. Seeing, therefore, that I did not desire more children, I began to strive after self-control. There was endless difficulty in the task. We began to sleep in separate beds. I decided to retire to bed only after the day's work had left me completely exhausted. All these efforts did not seem to bear much fruit, but when I look back upon the past I feel that the final resolution was the cumulative effect of those unsuccessful strivings.

The final resolution could only be made as late as 1906. Satyagraha had not then been started. I had not the least notion of its coming. I was practicing in Johannesburg at the time of the Zulu 'Rebellion' in Natal, which came soon after the Boer War. I felt that I must offer my services to the Natal Government on that occasion. The offer was accepted, as we shall see in another chapter. But the work set me furiously thinking in the direction of self-control, and according to my wont I discussed my thoughts with my co-workers. It became my conviction that procreation and the consequent care of children were inconsistent with public service. I had to break up my household at Johannesburg to be able to serve during the 'Rebellion'. Within one month of offering my services, I had to give up the house I had so carefully furnished. I took my wife and children to Phoenix, and led the Indian ambulance corps attached to the Natal forces. During the difficult marches that had then to be performed, the idea flashed upon me that if I wanted to devote myself to the service of the community in this manner, I must relinquish the desire for children and wealth and live the life of a vanaprastha of one retired from household cares.

The 'Rebellion' did not occupy me for more than six weeks, but this brief period proved to be a very important epoch in my life. The importance of vows grew upon me more clearly than ever before. I realized that a vow, far from closing the door to real freedom, opened it. Up to this time I had not met with success because the will had been lacking, because I had had no faith in myself, no faith in the grace of God, and therefore my mind had been tossed on the boisterous sea of doubt. I realized that in refusing to take a vow man was drawn into temptation, and that to be bound by a vow was like a passage from libertinism to a real monogamous marriage. 'I believe in effort, I do not want to bind myself with vows' is the mentality of weakness, and betrays a subtle desire for the thing to be avoided. Or where can be the difficulty in making a final decision? I vow to flee from the serpent which I know will bite me; I do not simply make an effort to flee from him. I know that mere effort may mean certain death. Mere effort means ignorance of the certain fact that the serpent is bound to kill me. The fact, therefore, that I could rest content with an effort only means that I have not yet clearly realized the necessity of definite action. 'But supposing my views are changed in the future, how can I find myself by a vow?' Such a doubt often deters us. But that doubt also betrays a lack of clear perception that a particular thing must be renounced. That is why Nishkulanand has sung: 'Renunciation without aversion is not lasting.' Where therefore the desire is gone, a vow of renunciation is the natural and inevitable fruit.”1

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “After full discussion and mature deliberation, I took the vow in 1906. I had not shared my thoughts with my wife until then, but only consulted her at the time of taking the vow. She had no objection. But I had great difficulty in making the final resolve. I had not the necessary strength. How was I to control my passions? The elimination of carnal relationship with one's wife seemed then a strange thing. But I launched forth with faith in the sustaining power of God.

As I look back upon the twenty years of the vow, I am filled with pleasure and wonderment. The more or less successful practice of self-control had been going on since 1901. But the freedom and joy that came to me after taking the vow had never been experienced before 1906. Before the vow I had been open to being overcome by temptation at any moment. Now the vow was a sure shield against temptation. The great potentiality of brahmacharya daily became more and more patent to me. The vow was taken when I was in Phoenix. As soon as I was free from ambulance work, I went to Phoenix, whence I had to return to Johannesburg. In about a month of my returning there, the foundation of Satyagraha was laid. As though unknown to me, the brahmacharya vow had been preparing me for it. Satyagraha had not been a preconceived plan. It came on spontaneously, without my having willed it. But I could see that all my previous steps had led up to that goal. I had cut down my heavy household expenses at Johannesburg and gone to Phoenix to take, as it were, the brahmacharya vow.

The knowledge that a perfect observance of brahmacharya means realization of Brahman, I did not owe to a study of the Shastras. It slowly grew upon me with experience. The shastric texts on the subject I read only later in life. Every day of the vow has taken me nearer the knowledge that in brahmacharya lays the protection of the body, the mind and the soul. For brahmachrya was now no process of hard penance, it was a matter of consolation and joy. Every day revealed a fresh beauty in it. But if it was a matter of ever-increasing joy, let no one believe that it was an easy thing for me. Even when I am past fifty-six years, I realize how hard a thing it is. Every day I realize more and more that it is like walking on the sword's edge, and I see every moment the necessity for eternal vigilance.

Control of the palate is the first essential in the observance of the vow. I found that complete control of the palate made the observance very easy, and so I now pursued my dietetic experiments not merely from the vegetarian's but also from the brahmachari's point of view. As the result of these experiments I saw that the brahmachari's food should be limited, simple, spiceless, and, if possible, uncooked. Six years of experiment have showed me that the brahmachari's ideal food is fresh fruit and nuts. The immunity from passion that I enjoyed when I lived on this food was unknown to me after I changed that diet. Brahmacharya needed no effort on my part in South Africa when I lived on fruits and nuts alone. It has been a matter of very great effort ever since I began to take milk. How I had to go back to milk from a fruit diet will be considered in its proper place. It is enough to observe here that I have not the least doubt that milk diet makes the brahmacharya vow difficult to observe. Let no one deduce from this that all brahmachari must give up milk. The effect on brahmacharya of different kinds of food can be determined only after numerous experiments. I have yet to find a fruit-substitute for milk which is an equally good muscle-builder and easily digestible. The doctors, vaidyas, and hakims have alike failed to enlighten me. Therefore, though I know milk to be partly a stimulant, I cannot, for the time being, advise anyone to give it up.

As an external aid to brahmacharya, fasting is as necessary as selection and restriction in diet. So overpowering are the senses that they can be kept under control only when they are completely hedged in on all sides, from above, and from beneath. It is common knowledge that they are powerless without food, and so fasting undertaken with a view to control of the senses is, I have no doubt, very helpful. With some, fasting is of no avail, because assuming that mechanical fasting alone will make them immune, they keep their bodies without food, but feast their minds upon all sorts of delicacies, thinking all the while what they will eat and what they will drink after the fast terminates. Such fasting helps them in controlling neither palate nor lust. Fasting is useful when mind co-operates with starving body, that is to say, when it cultivates distaste for the objects that are denied to the body. Mind is at the root of all sensuality. Fasting, therefore, has a limited use, for a fasting man may continue to be swayed by passion. But it may be said that extinction of the sexual passion is as a rule impossible without fasting, which may be said to be indispensable for the observance of brahmacharya. Many aspirants after brahmacharya fail because in the use of their other senses they want to carry on like those who are not brahmacharis. Their effort is, therefore, identical with the effort to experience the bracing cold of winter in the scorching summer months. There should be a clear line between the life of a brahmachari and of one who is not. The resemblance that there is between the two is only apparent. The distinction ought to be clear as daylight. Both use their eyesight, but whereas the brahmachari uses it to see the glories of God, the other uses it to see the frivolity around him. Both use their ears, but whereas the one hears nothing but praises of God, the other feasts his ears upon ribaldry. Both often keep late hours, but whereas the one devotes them to prayer, the other fritters them away in wild and wasteful mirth. Both feed the inner man, but the one only to keep the temple of God in good repair, while the other gorges himself and makes the sacred vessel a stinking gutter. Thus both live as the poles apart, and the distance between them will grow and not diminish with the passage of time.

Brahmacharya means control of the senses in thought, word, and deed. Every day I have been realizing more and more the necessity for restraints of the kind I have detailed above. There is no limit to the possibilities of renunciation, even as there is none to those of brahmacharya. Such brahmacharya is impossible of attainment by limited effort. For many it must remain only as an ideal. An aspirant after brahmacharya will always be conscious of his shortcomings, will seek out the passions lingering in the innermost recesses of his heart, and will incessantly strive to get rid of them. So long as thought is not under complete control of the will, brahmacharya in its fullness is absent. Involuntary thought is an affection of the mind, and curbing of thought therefore means curbing of the mind, which is even more difficult to curb than the wind. Nevertheless the existence of God within makes even control of the mind possible. Let no one think that it is impossible because it is difficult. It is the highest goal, and it is no wonder that the highest effort should be necessary to attain it.

But it was after coming to India that I realized that such brahmacharya was impossible to attain by mere human effort. Until then I had been labouring under the delusion that fruit diet alone would enable me to eradicate all passions, and I had flattered myself with the belief that I had nothing more to do. But I must not anticipate the chapter of my struggles. Meanwhile let me make it clear that those who desire to observe brahmacharya with a view to realizing God need not despair provided their faith in God is equal to their confidence in their own effort. 'The sense-objects turn away from an abstemious soul, leaving the relish behind. The relish also disappears with the realization of the Highest’. Therefore His name and His grace are the last resources of the aspirant after moksha. This truth came to me only after my return to India.”2

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “This enthusiasm and knowledge cannot remain fresh for long in a man burdened with the responsibilities of a family. A true servant will need to observe total celibacy. Those who are married but wish to render service to the country can train the members of their families to take up the same kind of work. Indian women are ignorant. It is very necessary to awaken patriotism in them. But those, who are not married and wish to render service as explained above, will find it best not to marry. The great patriot Mazzini1 used to say that it was to his country that he was married.”3 Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Some people will find these ideas strange, or ridiculous, or as born of ignorance. But we make bold to assert that every thoughtful Indian ought to give them his fullest consideration. Such as they are, these thoughts are the result of this writer’s deep experience of life. In any case, there will be no harm in putting them into practice. No one will lose anything by observing truth and celibacy. And it need not be asked what the people will gain if just a few persons follow this way of life. If anyone asks such a question, he will be taken for an ignorant person.”4

Thinking of a woman or her picture, praising a woman or her picture, sporting with a woman or her picture, glancing at a woman or her picture, secretly talking to a woman, thinking of a sinful action towards a woman actuated by sensuality, determining upon the sinful action, and bodily action resulting in the discharge of semen are the eight characteristics of copulation; and Brahmacharya is quite contrary to all these eight indications. Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Everyone, whether Hindu, Muslim or Parsi, should be proud of belonging to a country which produced a man like Shri Ramachandra. To the extent that he was a great Indian, he should be honoured by every Indian. For the Hindus, he is a god. If India again produced a Ramachandra, a Sita, a Lakshmana and a Bharata, she would attain prosperity in no time. It should be remembered, of course, that before Ramachandra qualified for public service, he suffered exile in the forest for 12 years. Sita went through extreme suffering and Lakshmana lived without sleep all those years and observed celibacy. When Indians learn to live in that manner, they can from that instant count themselves as free men. India has no other way of achieving happiness for herself.”5

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “For realizing the self, the first essential thing is to cultivate a strong moral sense. Morality means the acquisition of virtues such as fearlessness, truth, brahmacharya [celibacy] and so on. Service is automatically rendered to the country in this process of cultivating morality. Phoenix is of great help in this process. I believe that it is very difficult to preserve morality in cities where people live in congestion and there are many temptations. That is why the wise have recommended solitary places like Phoenix. Experience is the real school. The experience you have had in Phoenix you could not have got elsewhere. Thoughts about realizing the self, again, could only occur to you there. The very fact that you have asked me such a profound question when you are a mere child shows your merit. The credit of your having been able to nurse Mr. West2 and others also goes to Phoenix. As most of the people in Phoenix are just beginners, you may find faults all round you. They may be there. Phoenix is not perfect but we wish it to become so.”6

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “We shall now indicate how married couples may observe brahmacharya and so conclude this rather long chapter. A married person cannot observe celibacy merely by following rules regarding diet, air and water. He must also refrain from being alone with his wife. We shall realize on reflection that, except for the purpose of conjugal relations, it is not necessary to be alone with one’s wife. At night the husband and the wife must sleep in separate rooms. During the day they should remain fully occupied with useful activity and pure thoughts. They should read such books and meditate over such lives as would strengthen them in their good resolve and should frequently remind themselves that all pleasures lead to suffering. Whenever they feel passion rising in them, they should take a cold bath. This will transform the cosmic fire in their bodies into a benign influence for both men and women and increase their happiness. All this is certainly hard of achievement, but conquering difficulties is what we are born for and. anyone who wishes to acquire good health must conquer this one.”7

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “We have considered how to keep good health, on what it depends and how to conserve it. If all men always followed the rules of health and observed unbroken celibacy, the chapters that follow would not be necessary because such men cannot possibly suffer any physical or mental illness. But such persons are rare indeed. There is hardly one so fortunate as never to have fallen ill. The average person is perpetually ill with some sickness or other. Such a person will enjoy good health in the measure in which he follows the rules set out in the first part. If, moreover, he knows some simple remedies, he will not get into a panic and rush to a doctor or hakim when he does fall ill. It is with this in mind that the chapters which follow are written.”8

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “It is well-nigh impossible to observe these two vows unless celibacy too is observed; and for this vow it is not enough that one does not look upon another woman with a lustful eye, one has so to control the animal passions that they will not be moved even in thought; if one is married, one will not have sexual intercourse even with one’s wife, but, regarding her as a friend, will establish with her a relationship of perfect purity. Until one has overcome the palate, it is difficult to observe the foregoing vows, more especially that of celibacy. Control of the palate should therefore be treated as a separate observance by one desirous of serving the country and, believing that eating is only for sustaining the body, one should regulate and purify one’s diet day by day. Such a person will immediately, or gradually, as he can, leave off such articles of food as may tend to stimulate animal passions.”9

Know that in this world there is nothing that cannot be attained by one who remains from birth to death a perfect celibate In one person, knowledge of the four Vedas, and in another, perfect celibacy of these, the latter is superior to the former who is wanting in celibacy. Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “The Ashram does not follow the varnashram dharma. Where those in control of the Ashram will take the place of the pupils’ parents and where life-long vows of celibacy, non-hoarding, etc., are to be observed, varnashram dharma has no scope.”10 Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Those who want to perform national service, or those who want to have a glimpse of the real religious life, must lead a celibate life, no matter if married or unmarried. Marriage but brings a woman closer together [sic] with the man, and they become friends in a special sense, never to be parted either in this life or in the lives that are to come. But I do not think that, in our conception of marriage, our lusts should necessarily enter. Be that as it may, this is what is placed before those who come to the Ashram. I do not deal with that at any length.”11

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “The time that may be taken up in this preparation should not be considered wasted. Christ, before he went out to serve the world, spent forty days in the wilderness, preparing himself for his mission. Buddha too spent many years in such preparation. Had Christ and Buddha not undergone this preparation, they would not have been what they were. Similarly, if we want to put this body in the service of truth and humanity, we must first raise our soul by developing virtues like celibacy, non-violence and truth. Then alone may we say that we are fit to render real service to the country.”12 Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Merely to have outlined a scheme of education as above is not to have removed the bane of child-marriage from our society or to have conferred on our women an equality of rights. Let us now consider the case of our girls who disappear, so to say, from view after marriage. They are not likely to return to our schools. Conscious of the unspeakable and unthinkable sin of the child-marriage of their daughters, their mothers cannot think of educating them or of otherwise making their dry life a cheerful one. The man who marries a young girl does not do so out of any altruistic motives, but through sheer lust. Who is to rescue these girls? A proper answer to this question will also be a solution of the woman’s problem. The answer is albeit difficult, but it is the only one. There is, of course, none to champion her cause but her husband. It is useless to expect a child wife to be able to bring round the man who has married her. The difficult work must, therefore, for the present at least, be left to man. If I could, I would take a census of child-wives and would find the friends of their husbands and through such friends, as well as through moral and polite exhortations, I will attempt to bring home to them the enormity of their crimes in linking their fortunes with child-wives and will warn them that there is no expiation for that sin unless and until they have by education made their wives fit not only to bear children but also to bring them up properly, and unless, in the meantime, they live a life of absolute celibacy.”13

Brahmacharya or spotless chastity is the best of all penances; a celibate of such spotless chastity is not a human being, but a god indeed. To the celibate who conserves the semen with great efforts, what is there unattainable in this world? By the power of the composure of the semen, one will become just like me. Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “You have asked me a very searching question. I have always recognized that there are fundamental differences between you and me on the marriage and the caste question. I do not consider marriage to be a necessity in every case. From the highest standpoint it is a status lower than that of celibacy but I recognize it to be an absolute necessity in most cases. At the same time I would put disciplinary restraints upon the choice of man and woman and just as it would be considered improper for a brother to marry his sister I would make it improper for a person to marry outside his or her group which may be called a caste.”14

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “The word in Sanskrit corresponding to celibacy is brahmacharya and the latter means much more than celibacy. Brahmacharya means perfect control over all the senses and organs. For a perfect brahmachari nothing is impossible. But it is an ideal state which is rarely realized. It is almost like Euclid’s line which exists only in imagination, never capable of being physically drawn. It is nevertheless an important definition in geometry yielding great results. So may a perfect brahmachari exist only in imagination? But if we did not keep him constantly before our mind’s eye, we should be like a rudderless ship. The nearer the approach to the imaginary state, the greater the perfection. But for the time being I propose to confine myself to brahmacharya as in the sense of celibacy. I hold that a life of perfect Extracted from Mahadev Desai’s account of Gandhiji’s tour. Gandhiji, accompanied by Shaukat Ali and Mahomed Ali, met students in the Union Hall. The remarks were in answer to a criticism. Continence in thought, speech and action is necessary for reaching spiritual perfection. And a nation that does not possess such men is the poorer for it. But my purpose is to plead for brahmacharya as a temporary necessity in the present stage of national evolution. When we are engaged in a death-grip with a powerful Government, we shall need all the strength physical, material, moral and spiritual. We cannot gain it unless we husband the one thing which we must prize above everything else. Without this personal purity of life, we must remain a nation of slaves. Let us not deceive ourselves by imagining that because we consider the system of Government to be corrupt, Englishmen are to be despised as competitors in a race for personal virtue. Without making any spiritual parade of the fundamental virtues, they practice them at least physically in an abundant measure. Among those who are engaged in the political life of the country there are more celibates and spinsters than among us. Spinsters among us are practically unknown except the nuns who leave no impression on the political life of the country. Whereas in Europe thousands claim celibacy as a common virtue.”15

“Mahatma Gandhi wrote, It is only when your action is pure, when your motive is pure and the result is pure, that the action can have been inspired by your conscience. There is, however, another restriction which the shastras lay down in this matter. He alone who practices non-violence, is truthful and keeps the vow of non-hoarding, can claim that he has had a command from the conscience within. If you are not a brahmachari, if you have no compassion in your heart, no regard for modesty and truth, you cannot claim any action of yours to have been inspired by your conscience. If, on the other hand, you have a heart such as I have described, if you have given up Western ways, if you have God in the pure temple of your heart, you may respectfully disobey even your parents. If you are in such a state, you are free and can act on your own. I know that in the West there is a powerful trend towards licence. But I have no desire to see students in India take to such licence. If, in this hallowed Banaras, in this sacred place, I wished to turn you to ways of licence, I would be unworthy of my task.”16

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “It was the duty of the teachers to be good and conscientious. Let them teach the boys to be good, fearless and truthful, let them make their students observe brahmachary (celibacy). He was appalled at the adultery that was prevalent in India and he feared that, if things went on in this strain for ever they would never be fit for swaraj. It was not their business to imitate any other country in such matters. It was the duty of the teachers to teach their boys to be brave and truthful. The swaraj they were going to establish was one based on righteousness and not on unrighteousness. They were out to establish dharmarajya and they were not going to do that by means.”17 Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “When thousands of Muslims were ready to die and not to kill, when thousands of Hindus were ready to sacrifice their lives and not to sacrifice the lives of others, then they could feel sure that swaraj was theirs. With the solution of the Khilafat question the question of cow-protection would be solved.”18

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “He again asked students to observe celibacy, for in no other religion was so much stress laid on that question as in Hinduism. Indians should also give up adultery. They should consider every woman except their wife as their mother or daughter or sister. When he saw so much sin committed in this country, he felt despair in his heart of having swaraj broad-based on dharma. If they were determined on having dharmarajya, then their teachers must immediately realize that they had to train the boys in the proper spirit. Only when they succeeded in inculcating the right principles in the minds of their boys and girls would they have good citizens. For their dharmarajya, they wanted righteous men and women. But if the teachers themselves expected the students to be truthful, if they told lies to their official superiors, the students would learn that lesson from their teachers. Therefore, they had to be taught by personal example. We had to purify ourselves of our sins; we must be free from those things and not be slaves of vice.”19

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “A volunteer has written to me a very pathetic letter saying that, despite his earnest efforts, he cannot observe brahmacharya. He suffers from discharges in sleep and often wished to commit suicide. I see panic in this mentality. As long as a man is not doing a wrong deliberately or a man and a woman do not look at each other with a lustful eye, there is no cause for concern. Having learnt to control our mind while we are awake, we should trust to God for what happens in sleep. If there is a discharge in sleep, we should understand that the mind is not yet totally free from lust. “Sense-cravings subside in a man who refrains from gratifying them, but pleasure in their objects remains; it vanishes only when he has had a vision of the supreme.” This is a statement of experience and is literally true. Sinning is possible only so long as the atman has not realized itself. Once it is illuminated, all possibility of sin vanishes. One who constantly strives to observe brahmacharya should follow these rules:

1. He should be moderate in eating.

2. He should eschew from his diet spices, excessive ghee, fried articles, sweets, meat, etc.

3. He should of course never take liquor, but even tea, coffee, and other similar drinks may be taken only for medicinal purposes.

4. He should wash his private parts with cold water twice or thrice a day and should pour cold water over them.

5. He should never take heavy meals.

6. He should give up late meals in the evening.

7. His last meal should always be light so that he goes to bed with an empty stomach.

8. He should not read erotic books, should not talk above or listen to such things.

9. He should look upon every woman as his sister and never look at anyone with greedy eyes. He should never allow any such thought in-his mind that this woman is good-looking and the other is not. If beauty consisted in shape or colour, we would have gratified our sight by looking at statues. Beauty lies in virtue and this is not a thing which can be perceived by the senses. He should control his passions by reflecting that a man who thinks of his mother or sister as beautiful or not beautiful commits a sin.

10. He should never be alone with a woman.

11. He should always keep his body and mind well occupied. I believe regular spinning to be a great help. This is only a guess. I am not yet in a position to speak from experience. It is my conjecture that the spinning-wheel helps more in acquiring self-control than any other type of physical work.

12 He should ever keep repeating God’s name for self purification. A theist believes that God sees the inmost depths of our heart, that He watches our movements even when we sleep. Such a man, therefore, should remain vigilant for all the twenty-four hours. Whatever the work we may be doing, mental or physical, we should never forget to go on repeating God’s name. His name delivers us from all our sins. After a little practice, everyone will discover that it is possible to keep repeating God’s name while one is doing anything or thinking about anything. Inward repetition of God’s name is the only exception to the general rule that a person can think about only one thing at a time because it is spontaneous to the atman. Other thoughts are the product of ignorance. For one who knows that God does everything, who is wholly absorbed in thoughts of Him, what remains for such a one to do or to think about? Such a person stops thinking about his separate identity and regards himself only as an instrument in God’s hands. I believe it is impossible to observe perfect brahmacharya in action, speech and thought without this constant remembering of God. Anyone who observes these rules will certainly succeed in mastering his senses. Striving in this manner, he should stop worrying and not be troubled in the least by discharges in sleep. He should regard them as evidence of his not being watchful enough and should become more vigilant, but should not in the least feel nervous. Yes, if his thoughts become impure and he is tempted to infect another person with his impurity, he may by all means commit suicide. Committing suicide is a thousand times preferable to sleeping with another’s wife.”20

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Civility, good manners and humility these virtues are at such discount these days that they seem to have no place at all in the building of our character. If a person observes mere physical celibacy, he acts like a Bajirao1, frowns upon and runs down everyone else and we tolerate his rudeness as we do kicks from a milch cow. Similarly, if a person is truthful in speech, we give him a licence to be sharp-tongued and a khadi-wearer can come down in fury upon those who do not wear khadi. In like manner, a person who offers civil disobedience sometimes acts as if he had a licence to be insolent to others. These corporals of the army of incivility are not a true brahmachari or a truth-lover or a khadi lover or a civil resister, as the case may be. All the four of them are as far away from their vows as the north is from the south. It may be safely asserted that a person deficient in good manners lacks discrimination and that, lacking discrimination, he lacks everything else. Vishvamitra’s tapascharya was considered incomplete till he had learnt civility.”21

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “I shall have to answer this question at some length. The aim of human life is moksha. As a Hindu, I believe that moksha is freedom from birth, by breaking the bonds of the flesh, by becoming one with God. Now marriage is a hindrance in the attainment of this supreme object, inasmuch as it only tightens the bonds of flesh. Celibacy is a great help, inasmuch as it enables one to lead a life of full surrender to God. What is the object generally understood of marriage, except a repetition of one’s own kind? And why need you advocate marriage? It propagates itself. It requires no agency to promote its growth. Yes. Then you fear there will be an end of creation? No. The extreme logical result would be, not extinction of the human species, but the transference of it to a higher plane.”22 And those students who find that world of God through chastity, theirs is that heavenly country; theirs, in whatever world they are, is freedom. A wise man should avoid married life as if it were a burning pit of live coals. From the contact comes sensation, from sensation thirst, from thirst clinging; by ceasing from that, the soul is delivered from all sinful existence. Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Yes, I know that is the legacy of Protestantism. Protestantism did many good things, but one of its few evils was that it ridiculed celibacy.”23

“I have been asked to say something about brahmacharya. This is one of those subjects on which I write in Navajivan from time to time. I rarely speak on it, because I think that it is an extremely difficult subject to talk about and one cannot explain one’s ideas about it in a speech. You wish to hear my views on ordinary brahmacharya and not on brahmacharya in the extended definition of the term which connotes the control of all organs of sense. Even ordinary brahmacharya is said by the Shastras to be very difficult to observe. Permit me to say that there is ninety-nine per cent truths in this view, but that it falls short of absolute truth by one per cent. The observance of this ordinary brahmacharya is felt to be difficult because we do not strive to control the other organs of sense. The most important of these is the palate. For him who has learnt to control the palate. The observance of brahmacharya will be easy enough. Students of zoology tell us that lower creatures observe brahmacharya better than man. What they say is true, and if we try to know the reason we shall discover that the lower creatures have the completest control over the palate, which is not the result of an effort of will but is instinctive. They feed on grass and plants, and eat only as much as would satisfy their hunger. They eat to live, and do not live to eat. We do quite the opposite of this.

The mother feeds her child all manner of delicacies, believing that only so can she express her love. By acting in this way, we do not make our food tastier, but rather less so. Food is made tasty by appetite. A plain rotla is tastier to a hungry person than ladu can be to a person who has no appetite. We actually use all kinds of spices and prepare an endless variety of dishes so that we may be able to load our stomachs to the full, and then we ask why we cannot observe brahmacharya. We let our eyes, which God has given us for seeing things, be tainted with lust, and do not learn to observe what we ought to. Why should a mother not learn the Gayatri and teach it to her child? It would be enough if, without going into its deeper meaning, she merely understands that it is an invocation to the Sun-god and teaches the child to worship the Sun. Sanatanist and Arya Samajists, both may worship the Sun. In explaining the Gayatri as worship of the Sun, I have given its most obvious meaning. What is the meaning of this worship? It means that, holding up our heads and looking at the Sun we should cleanse our eyes. The author of the Gayatri was a rishi, a seer. He tells us that nowhere shall we find anything to equal the drama of sunrise or see beauty and mystery like it. There is no sutradhara as skilled as God and no stage grander than the sky. But which mother ever asks her child to look at the sky; for fear that the child might hurt its eyes?

Her mind is filled with all manner of worldly thoughts; the education which they give in that big building, she perhaps tells herself, will make her child a well-paid officer. Does she ever ask herself, however, how much the child benefits from what it learns, consciously or unconsciously, from the atmosphere in the home? Parents paid their children with clothes till they feel suffocated, try to make them look smart and handsome, but do the children really look so? Clothes are meant to cover the body, not to beautify it; they are meant to protect us against heat and cold. We should ask a child shivering with cold to go and warm itself at the stove, or sun in the street or go and work on the farm; then alone can we help it build a body as strong as steel. Anyone who has observed brahmacharya ought to have a body of such strength. We, on the contrary, ruin children’s bodies. We wish to keep them within the four walls of the home and make them comfortable. This produces a kind of artificial heat in their skin which we can only compare to eczema. We have ruined our bodies by pampering them overmuch; we have been playing with fire. So much about clothes. Then, through the things we talk about in the home we produce harmful effects on a child’s mind. We talk about marrying the boy or the girl, and the things which the child sees around it have much the same effect on its mind. What surprises me is that we have not yet become the most uncivilized people on the earth.

Despite everything calculated to destroy decent social restraints, they have survived. God has so made man that, though placed again and again in circumstances which might tempt him to evil, he comes out safe so profound is His mystery. If we eliminate all such factors which increase the difficulties in the way of brahmacharya, we would find it quite easy to observe. Though this is our condition, we wish to oppose others with physical force. Than are two ways in which we can make ourselves fit to do this, a lower and a higher. The lower way is to cultivate strength of body by any means whatever, by eating and drinking anything which may serve our purpose, training ourselves for physical fighting, eating beef, and so on . When I was a boy, a friend used to tell me that we ought to eat meat, that if we did not we would never be as strong and stout as Englishmen. The poet Narmadashanker1 also gave this advice in a poem of his. The lines, “The Englishman rules and the Indian is content to submit” and Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “The foreigner is full six feet tall” are intended to suggest this very idea. Narmada shanker has rendered great service to Gujarat but there were two phases in his life, the first of self-indulgence and the second of self-control. This particular poem belongs to the period of self-indulgence. In Japan too, when they found it necessary to fight other countries beef eating became common. If, therefore, we wish to cultivate physical strength the lower way, we shall have to start eating such things. But brahmacharya is the only means for us if we would cultivate physical strength the higher way. I feel pity for myself when I hear people describing me as a man of inviolate brahmacharya. I have been so described in the address presented to me. I must tell you, therefore, that the person who drafted the address does not know who may be called a man of inviolate brahmacharya. Didn’t he ask himself how a man like me, married and having several children, could be so described? A man of inviolate brahmacharya would never get fever, even as much as headache; he would never have an attack of bronchitis or appendicitis. Doctors say that appendicitis may even result from an orange seed sticking in the intestines. But the seed will never be retained inside if one’s body is clean and healthy.

When the intestines have lost their tone, they cannot eliminate such things in the natural course. My intestines also must have lost their tone and so I might have failed to assimilate something which I swallowed. Children often swallow similar things, but their mothers seldom take serious notice of that. The reason why no harmful effects follow is that their intestines have the natural strength to eliminate such things. I do not, therefore, want anyone to become a hypocrite by attributing to me the observance of inviolate brahmacharya and following my example. The power and light of inviolate brahmacharya are far greater than what I can boast of. I am not perfect in my brahmacharya, though it is true that I strive to be so. I have only placed before you a few observations from my experience which indicate how one may erect a protecting hedge to preserve one’s brahmacharya. Observing brahmacharya does not mean that one may not touch any woman, not even one’s sister. It means that one’s mental state must be such that touching a woman would disturb one no more than touching a piece of paper. If, in order to preserve my brahmacharya, I must guard against touching my sister to nurse her when she is ill, that brahmacharya is worth no more than the dust under our feet. We would be perfect in our brahmacharya if, even when touching a young and extremely beautiful woman, we are disturbed no more than when we touch a corpse. If you wish your children to be capable of such brahmacharya, you cannot prescribe their studies but should let a man like me, imperfect though he be in his brahmacharya, do that. A man who observes brahmacharya is a sannyasi by nature. The stage of brahmacharya is superior to that of sannyasa, but we have corrupted it and in the result the stage of active life as a householder and that of retired life have lost their beauty, to speak nothing of the stage of sannyasa such is our plight. If we follow the lower path indicated above, we shall not, even after five hundred years, be strong enough to fight the Pathans. If we can follow the higher path today, then we can meet them this very day, for the inward change required by that path can take place in no time, whereas change in our physical constitution will require ages to bring about. We shall be able to follow that higher path only if we have earned holy merit in our previous lives and if our parents equip us for the purpose.”24

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Have you heard the story of the Kangri Gurukul? (If you have not heard it, your teacher should be dismissed). Near it the Ganga flows in torrents. Tigers and leopards infested the area and the forest was dense. Swamiji was tall like a rock. Little boys like you could hardly reach Swamiji’s ears even by standing upon one another. He enrolled such boys and got everything done by them. Even now the leopards are there, but the boys were not afraid even of leopards. This is how the Gurukul was established. There is certainly self-interest in making the Gurukul a beautiful place, but the work is also spiritually uplifting. You should do the yajna of mental work along with that of physical labour. The mind should be trained, not in order to amass wealth but to serve the country. Even the yajna of spiritual striving should be for the service of the country. With every gift we possess we should perform a yajna for the service of the country and in the cause of dharma. We can thus engage ourselves in three types of yajna. One should remain a celibate up to the age of 25. Unless an institution gives such training that up to that age the student is not disturbed by physical desire, it does not deserve the name of Gurukul. Children and sannyasis are alike. Children drink in purity of mind and self-control with their mother’s milk. If one cannot observe celibacy throughout life, there is the stage of married life. One should observe the rules of that stage and lead a life of self-control. I wish that you should learn to lead a life of self-control, and bless you that you may.”25

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “In my talks with public workers in Bengal, I came across a young man who among his claims for public recognition, mentioned his and his fellow-workers’ brahmacharya or celibacy. The manner of presenting the claim and the self-assurance with which the young man spoke repelled me and I felt that he was talking about things he little knew. His fellow-workers repudiated the claim. And the young man himself, when I cross-questioned him, admitted that the claim could not be sustained. A man who consciously sins with his mind, even though he may not sin with his body is not a celibate. One who cannot remain unmoved at the sight of a woman, however beautiful she may be, is not a celibate. One, who keeps his body under control from sheer necessity, does well but is not a celibate. We may not degrade sacred words by a loose use of them. True celibacy has important results which can be verified. It is a difficult virtue to practice. Many attempt it but few succeed. Those who walk about the country in the garb of sannyasis are often no more celibates than the ordinary man in the street. Only the latter is often a better man as he makes no pretension to virtue. He is satisfied that his Maker knows his trials, temptations and his century of triumphs in resisting temptations as also his few falls in spite of heroic attempts. He is satisfied to be judged by the world for his falls. His successes he treasures secretly like a miser. He is too humble to make them known. Such a man has hope of redemption. Not so the self-satisfied sannyasi who does not even knows the A B C of restraint. There is danger of public workers who do not wear the garb of sannyasis, but who prate about sacrifice and celibacy, making both cheap and discrediting themselves and their mission of service. When I drew up the rules for the guidance of the Ashram at Sabarmati, I circulated copies among friends for advice and criticism. One was sent to the late Sir Gurudas Banerjee. In acknowledging his copy he advised me to add humility to the vows mentioned in the rules. In his letter he said that young workers lacked humility. I told the late Sir Gurudas that whilst I valued his advice and fully recognized the necessity of humility, the mention of it as a vow would derogate from its dignity. It must be taken for granted that those who cultivate truth, ahimsa, brahmacharya, must be humble. Truth without humility would be an arrogant caricature. He who wants to practice truth knows how hard it is. The world may applaud his so-called triumphs. Little does the world know his falls? A truthful man is a chastened being. He has needed to be humble. A man who wants to love the whole world including one who calls himself his enemy knows how impossible it is to do so in his own strength. He must be as mere dust before he can understand the elements of ahimsa. He is nothing if he does not daily grow in humility as he grows in love. A man who would have his eye single, who would regard every woman as his blood sister or mother, has to be less than dust. He stands on the brink of a precipice. The slightest turn of the head brings him down. He dare not whisper his virtue to his very own. For he knows not what the next moment has in store for him. For him “pride goeth before destruction and haughtiness before a fall.” Well has the Gita said, “Passions subside in a fasting man, not the desire for them? The desire goes only when man sees God face to face.” And no one can see God face to face who has aught of the in him. He must become a cipher if he would see God. Who shall dare say in this storm-tossed universe, ‘I have won’? God triumphs in us, never we. Let us not lower the values of these virtues so that we may all be able to claim them. What is true of the physical world is true of the spiritual. If in order to gain a worldly battle, Europe sacrificed several million lives during the late War, itself a transitory event, what wonder that, in the spiritual battle, millions have to perish in the attempt so that one complete example may be left to the world. It is ours merely to make the attempt in the uttermost humility. The cultivation of these higher virtues is its own reward. He who cashes anyone of them loses his soul. Virtues are not to trade with. My truth, my ahimsa, my brahmacharya are matters between myself and my Maker. They are not articles of trade. Any young man who dares to trade with them will do so at his peril. The world has no standard, no means, wherewith to judge these things. They defy scrutiny and analysis. Let us workers, therefore, cultivate them for our own purification. Let the world be asked to judge us only by our work. An institution or an Ashram that claims public support must have a material object, e.g., a hospital, a school, spinning and khaddar propaganda. The public have the right to know the worth of these activities and if they approve of them, they may support them. The conditions are obvious. There must be honesty and ability about the managers. An honest man who knows nothing of pedagogy has no claim to public support as a teacher. These public institutions must keep proper and audited accounts which should be subject to inspection by the public. These are the tests which conductors have to satisfy. Their private character must not obtrude itself upon public attention for admiration and patronage.”26

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “The Corps was disbanded in a month. Its work was mentioned in dispatches. Each member of the Corps was awarded the medal especially struck for the occasion. The Governor wrote a letter of thanks. The three sergeants of the Corps were Gujaratis: Shri Umiashankar Manchharam Shelat, Surendra Bapubhai Medh, and Harishankar Ishvar Joshi. All the three had a fine physique and worked very hard. I cannot just now recall the names of the other Indians, but I well remember that one of these was a Pathan, who used to express his astonishment on finding us carrying as large a load as, and marching abreast of, him. While I was working with the Corps, two ideas which had long been floating in my mind became firmly fixed. First, an aspirant after a life exclusively devoted to service must lead a life of celibacy. Second, he must accept poverty as a constant companion through life. He may not take up any occupation which would prevent him or make him shrink from undertaking the lowliest of duties or largest risks.”27

These sexual propensities, though they are at first like ripples, acquire the proportions of a sea on account of bad company. Sensuality destroys life, luster, strength, vitality, memory, wealth, great fame, holiness and devotion to the Supreme. Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Brahmacharya means not merely mechanical celibacy, but it means complete control over all the organs and senses enabling one to attain perfect freedom from all passion and hence from sin in thought, word and deed.”28

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “Though the Satyagraha Ashram has kept before itself the ideal of inviolate celibacy, it recently celebrated some marriages; the events being of general interest, I have commented on them in Navajivan. I have discussed privately among friends how the Ashram which has accepted celibacy as its ideal can thus encourage marriages. However, a brief reply to the question for the benefit of readers who take interest in the activities of the Ashram will not be out of place. If those who aspire to follow the ideal of brahmacharya accepted by the Satyagraha Ashram cannot even bear to see a wedding, I think, they will never be able to practice brahmacharya for their whole life. We all know the story of Rishyashrung1. If a person hankers after a thing from which he keeps himself away and still pretends that he is indifferent to it, his pretence will not succeed for long. He should, on the contrary, be ready to battle with the temptations which may occasionally face him. He whose mind wavers is no brahmachari; only that self-restraint which is exercised of one’s own free will can endure. This is what Nishkulanand had in mind when he wrote in his poem: “Renunciation cannot last without detachment”. One who feels joy in self-restraint and loves it will not be tempted by things which might violate his vow of self-restraint, but will remain indifferent to them. Moreover, there are boys and girls in the Satyagraha Ashram and it cannot attempt to keep them unmarried against their will. It naturally becomes the Ashram’s duty to help them to marry when they feel that they will not be able to observe brahmacharya throughout their lives. Moreover, the Ashram has a few well-wishers and its inmates feel bound to help in any way they can to make the weddings of these friends’ sons and daughters model celebrations. It has been my view that, though arranged under the auspices of the Ashram, such weddings are not likely to harm its ideal of brahmacharya. Hence, instead of forbidding I have actually encouraged the Ashram to arrange them under its auspices. One such wedding of a girl brought up in the Ashram itself took place recently. Readers of Navajivan know Shri Lakshmidas Purushottam. His eldest daughter, Chi. Moti, was married about a month ago to Shri Najuklal Chokshi, a worker in the Broach Kelavani Mandal. The marriage was arranged without any stipulation of gifts from either side. I have been told that such marriages are rare in the Bhatia community. We may add that the marriage was the result of free choice by the bride and the bridegroom, for though the initiative was taken by the bride’s parents the final decision was made by the parties themselves. The wedding was arranged only when both of them felt that they wished to be joined in holy wedlock. None except close friends were invited to the ceremony, either as guests in the party of the bride or the bridegroom or in any other capacity. The couple wore their usual khadi dress. They had, on their own, decided not to wear ornaments. Both of them kept a fast till the ceremony of joining their hands in marriage. The wedding ceremony included nothing besides what was laid down in the ancient Shastras. The bridegroom had sent no gifts for the bride, for the latter’s parents did not want any to be sent. Weddings like this where neither side is put to the expense of even five rupees nor the occasion is regarded as an opportunity for the exercise of self-restraint is very rare in the country.”29

Mahatma Gandhi wrote, “A marriage celebrated in this manner cannot be considered a licence for self-indulgence. The couple’s married life will be a course of self-restraint, just as brahmacharya is. I know that expenditure on marriages among Bhatias is increasing day by day, since the community has plenty of money. The bride is, so to say, a commodity offered in sale, and this is done shamelessly since the practice is almost universal among them. A poor Bhatia, therefore, finds it extremely difficult to get a bride. I have given such publicity to this event in the hope that religious-minded Bhatia families will follow the example of the wedding here described. Another wedding, of the same kind as the one described above if not exactly like it, was celebrated under the auspices of the Ashram on Sunday last. The parties were members of the Marwari community. Shri Jamnalal Bajaj gave in marriage his eldest daughter, Chi. Kamla, to Chi. Rameshwar Prasad, son of the late Shri Kanaiyalalji. Shri Rameshwar Prasad is studying in the Gujarat Vidyapith. The families of both the parties being rich, it was extremely difficult for them to have only the religious rites for the wedding and nothing else. I have not heard of any wedding among rich Marwari families celebrated with such simplicity. Ordinarily, the wedding would have been arranged at Wardha or in Bombay. Shri Jamnalalji wanted it to be solemnized without ostentation and with the minimum of expenditure, and wished at the same time that the ceremony should bring home to the bride and the bridegroom the significance of marriage, it’s essentially religious character, and also clearly explain to them their mutual obligations. Shri Jamnalalji and I felt that such a wedding could be celebrated only in the precincts of the Ashram. This religious reform, however, could not be carried out without the consent of the bridegroom and his family. But Shri Ramavallabhji and Shri Keshavdevji won over Shri Rameshwar Prasad’s mother and other elders, and thus secured the consent of all.”30

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