5

Education at Various Stages and Related Questions

We should try to draw all the children towards us. We should admit that it is our fault if some do not come to us. They should all want to come to us.

We should treat those children who come to us as our own children. If their body and mind become sound and they acquire normal discipline, we should be satisfied that our purpose has been served.

I have taught many boys. I never allowed them to indulge in mischief. If they were under my care, I would educate them in such a way that they would learn from their very childhood that the desire to destroy was a very bad thing. Whatever they do, they should create something, produce something. There is an art in making anything and whatever they make should be artistic.

I do not believe that children are either good or bad from their very birth. Some tendency is there, but we have to mould them. This means that an infant starts learning right from the time of conception. At that time I would teach the mother. That would be a part of adult education. The training of the infant begins from that stage. We have to train the future generation on these lines. Till the child is separated from the mother, I would teach the mother. The infant is ever moving its hands and feet and is able to do something. If we are able to take under our care children of two or two and a half years of age and if they learn to move their hands and feet according to our method, I cannot set any limits to their progress.

If the child is put under our care, he will not destroy anything. He will feel hurt in doing so.

Whatever education we give to the children, it should be constructive and creative but never destructive.

When the child starts speaking, he starts learning a language. First you should teach him to distinguish different colours. Begin teaching him the letters of the alphabet only with the help of the pictures. Don’t you have charts showing 1-2, A-B and so on? Reading, writing and arithmetic will come in due course of time and the child will not be overstrained. His education should be a form of play.

Whatever thing he makes should be useful. In this way his mind and hands and feet develop in co-ordination.

There are no distinctions between work and play in basic education. For a child everything is play. I would go so far as to say that thus his whole life becomes a kind of game. I have been doing this for many years now. I never feel that it is time for play and I should go and play. For me even writing is a game. Under basic education of my conception children will learn while playing.

Speech to teachers, Sevagram, 17 February 1946 (Translated from Hindi)

Educating children should be normally the easiest of things; but somehow it has become, or been made, the most difficult. Experience shows that the children are always learning one thing or another whether we notice it or not and whether what they learn is good or bad. This may seem strange to some readers. But if we would consider carefully—who is a child; what is education and who is best qualified to teach the children?—the observation made above would not seem strange and might even appear quite correct.

By children we mean young boys and girls not more than 10 years of age. Then, education does not mean simply the knowledge of letters—the capacity to read and write. The knowledge of letters is only one of the means to education. Really speaking, education consists in learning to use in the right way all one’s sense-organs, including the mind. In other words, the child should know how to use his organs of action such as hands and feet etc. as also his organs of knowledge such as the nose, the eyes etc. A boy who knows that he should not use his hands in stealing things or killing flies or beating the younger brothers, sisters and play-mates has already made a good beginning on his way to education. The same may be said of the boy who understands the need for keeping his teeth, tongue, ears, eyes, nails etc. clean and does so. A boy who does not indulge in pranks while eating or drinking, who has learnt to eat and drink in the right manner whether alone or in company, who knows the distinction between wholesome and unwholesome food and chooses the former, who does not overeat, who does not ask for every new thing that he sees and who, when he asks for it and does not get it, remains quiet, may be said to have progressed quite a great deal in his education. Whose pronunciation is good, who can tell the history and geography of his region—even though he may not know these terms,—who knows what is meant by the motherland, he has traversed a fairly good distance on the road to education. Similarly with him who has learnt to distinguish between truth and untruth, between good and evil and who invariably chooses what is true and good, there is no need to further elaborate the point. The readers can fill in the picture themselves. Only I should make one thing clear: there is no need of the knowledge of reading and writing in order to learn the things I have spoken of above. To make the boys to learn the alphabet is to put an undue burden on their young minds and to misuse their eyes and hands. A rightly educated boy gets to learn reading and writing almost without any effort and, what is more, gladly at the proper time. At the present time, however, this thing becomes a heavy burden upon him. Much of the valuable time which could be put to better use goes to waste and in the end, instead of producing shapely letters or acquiring a finely articulated pronunciation, all that they succeed in doing is to produce mis-shapen letters and cultivate a bad handwriting. As for reading, they read much which had better been left unread and read it indifferently without any sense of pronunciation. To call it education is to abuse that august term. The boy must first get elementary knowledge before learning to read and write. If this is done our poor country would be saved from much unnecessary expense incurred on various readers and children’s books and many other evils. If children’s readers are at all thought necessary they should be written for use by the teachers and not for boys of my conception. But for our drifting with the current vogue this thing should be as clear to us as daylight.

The boys can get the education I have spoken of only at home and that too only through the mother. In a way, all boys do get some sort of an education from the mother. But seeing that the home has disintegrated, so to say, and seeing that most parents are not equal to the task, the boys should be placed in surroundings where they will get the same atmosphere as they do at home. Since of all persons the mother is the most competent to undertake the duty of educating the children, this particular task should be entrusted only to women. As a rule men are far behind women in respect of love and patience. If this is true the question of the education of children cannot be solved unless efforts are made simultaneously to solve the women’s education. And I have no hesitation in saying that as long as we do not have real mother-teachers who can successfully impart true education to our children they will remain uneducated even though they may be going to schools.

Let me now set forth in brief an outline of the children’s education. Suppose that a mother-teacher is entrusted with five children. These children have no training in manners. They do not speak distinctly. They do not know how to walk or even to sit in the right manner. The nose, eyes, ears, and nails are dirty. Asked to sit, they stretch out their legs and when they speak, they mumble. They have no knowledge of directions. The clothes are untidy and the pockets are filled with dirty tit-bits which they are always taking out and putting in their mouths. The border of the cap on the head has turned black and sticky and it gives out a foul odour. Now the teacher in question can train them only if she has the heart of a mother. The first lesson she has to give them would be that of cleanliness. She will drench them with her love and amuse them in various ways as only mothers know how to do and as did Kaushalya her Rama and thus she will bind them to herself with the ties of love and so will be in a position to secure from them willing compliance to all that she wants. She will know no rest until these boys have learnt to keep neat and tidy, until their teeth, ears, hands and feet are clean, until they learn to take care of their clothes and have improved their pronunciation. Having accomplished this she will first teach them Ramanama—the name of Lord God. He has many names and it does not matter by which name He is called. The next in order after dharma is artha i.e., the temporal knowledge. So she will now set out to teach them arithmetic. She will get them to learn the multiplication tables and teach them addition and subtraction—as much of it as can be managed orally. The boys must know the place where they live. So she will tell them of the rivers and rivulets, hills, buildings of interest etc. and in the process give them the knowledge of directions. She will improve her own knowledge for the sake of the children. History and geography are not to be treated as separate subjects in this method. Both will be taught by way of stories. She will not however be content with this. A Hindu mother will recite Sanskrit verses to her children from their infancy, so that they get used to the pronunciation of Sanskrit words. She will get them to learn Sanskrit verses in praise of God. A patriotic mother will of course teach them Hindi too. She will therefore converse with them in Hindi. She will read out to them selected passages from Hindi books and thus make them bilingual. She will not teach them the alphabet yet, but she will certainly give them the brush. She will get them to trace the geometrical figures—to draw straight lines and circles. A boy who cannot draw a flower or a water-jug or a triangle cannot be said to be educated. Again, she will not but introduce them to good music. She will not tolerate the children being unable to sing in unison the national song or hymns etc. She will teach them to sing to the accompaniment of time. If possible, she will give them ektara, or jhanjh. To make them physically fit she will get them to do physical exercises, to practise running and jumping. Then, the boys should also be taught the love of service and various skills. She will therefore teach them spinning with all the ancillary processes beginning from the picking of cotton pods. And these boys will willingly spin for at least half an hour every day.

Most of the text-books which we have today are useless for this purpose. The mother-teacher therefore will find out or produce new ones and her love for the children will help her in this task. Every village has its own history and geography; naturally it will have its own history-book and geography-book. The arithmetical exercises too will be new. The mother-teacher will prepare the lessons she wants to teach the children herself everyday. She will produce new sums and will always have many new things to say to the boys—which she will note down in her note-book when she prepares the lesson. Her lesson in the class will thus be not a mechanical performance but something lively and creative.

The syllabus will vary according to the progress of the children. It should therefore be drawn up after every three months. The children constituting the class come from different homes—each has his own different background of nurture. We cannot therefore have the same syllabus for all of them. At times it may be necessary even to induce them to unlearn what they have learnt. For example, if a six or seven year old child has learnt to trace letters in a slovenly way or has picked up the habit of reading without trying to understand what he reads, the mother-teacher will see that he unlearns all that. She must cast out the illusion that the child can acquire knowledge only through reading. It is easy enough to understand that even one who never had any training in reading can be wise.

I have not used the word teacher in this article; I have throughout used the word ‘mother-teacher’ in its place. Because the teacher must really be a mother to the children she teaches. One who cannot take the place of a mother cannot be a teacher. The child should never feel that he is being taught. Let her simply keep her eye upon him and guide him. A child who spends six hours in the school will possibly be wasting his time while the former will be learning something or the other all the time in terms of real education.

It is likely that we may not get good women-teachers in the existing conditions. That being so we may make use of men for the purpose. In that case these men-teachers will have to fill the place of the mother. But eventually it is the mother who will have to undertake the task. But if I am right any mother who has love for children can easily prepare herself for it. And she can also prepare the children at the same time that she is preparing herself.

Navajivan, 2 June 1929 (CW 41, pp. 5–9)

I have no difficulty in agreeing with the scientific views of Madame Montessori. However, if they are propagated in their Western garb in Indian villages they are more likely to prove useless and might even prove harmful, because in that garb they will be too expensive for Indian villages and ill-adapted to the village atmosphere. It is possible the cities may not feel the expense so much and women influenced by Western ways may be receptive to the ideas presented in Western garb; but even so it will be of no use because India lives not in cities but in its seven lakh villages. Besides, scientific education with Western trappings might prove poisonous to the city dwellers because here education begins the moment the child is conceived and ends no one knows when. These days the cities are created by the foreigners to serve their ends and so they do not represent the villages. They do not protect the interests of the villagers but are becoming their exploiters.

Letter to Saraladevi Sarabhai, 12 April 1945 (CW 71, pp. 370–71)

I saw the work done by teachers trained under Madame Montessori, and carefully observed the working of the Nursery School. Of course the things were foreign and the poor teacher had not digested what she had been taught. What to speak of the children? They could not even observe normal discipline. I am not criticising anyone. I have given the gist of my experience just for your information. Imbibe whatever you find useful and discard the rest. The conclusion I have drawn from this experience is that we shall be able to propagate scientific knowledge of child education only when our teachers are competent. They should have the will to become one with children. I am afraid I am not saying anything new in this. These things are certainly not beyond your range of experience but since I have come to know you and also love you I hope you will not find fault with me for saying the things you already know.

Letter to Tarabehn Modak, 16 October 1945 (CW 81, p. 364)

After a great deal of reflection and experimentation I have come to the conclusion that primary education should be given for at least a year without books and even after that the use of books should be restricted to the minimum.

If books are introduced from the very start and the children made to master the alphabet, the development of their various abilities are arrested and their intelligence stunted, although this is the time when it should grow rapidly. A child begins to learn immediately after its birth, but mostly through the eyes and ears or through the senses. And, as soon as he has learnt to speak, i.e., to imitate the sound of words, he begins rapidly to acquire the use of language. Naturally he picks up the same language as that of his parents. If the parents have taste and refinement, he also develops those qualities. He pronounces the words correctly and copies their good manners and conduct. This is his real education. And if our culture and traditions had not fallen apart, children would still be receiving the best kind of education in their homes.

But looking at the deplorable conditions in which we are living at present this cannot be and there is no alternative save to send our boys to schools. But if the child has to go to a school, we must see that it looks like a home to him and the teachers like parents, and the education provided should be such as would be provided in a cultured home. This means that all preliminary teaching should be oral. A child educated in this way would learn in a year ten times more than the boy taught in the other way, i.e., through the alphabet.

Oral teaching would enable the children to know the usual rudiments of history and geography much in the same way as they get to know stories, quite easily, in the very first year. They would commit to memory a fairly good number of poems; and they would learn the counting of numbers almost automatically without any effort. And because they would not be subjected to the burden of recognizing and learning the alphabet, the growth of their minds would not be stopped and their eyes would not be misused.

They would use their hands not in tracing different letters—a practice which spoils their handwriting for good—but in drawing the figures of geometry and simple pictures. This would be good preliminary training for the hand, as it would develop both co-ordination and skill.

And if we want to provide education to the crores of children of Gujarat and of India, this is the only way in which primary education should be imparted to them.

Under the conditions existing in the country it is impossible to give books to children. I admit that if it is necessary to give books to children in the primary stage also, then attempts must be made to do so whatever the expenditure, but if they are considered unnecessary and even harmful then this plea for stopping the use of books in the initial years. The idea should be given a fair trial. A thing which is unnecessary from the moral point of view is always found to be impermissible also from the practical point of view. In an ideal civilization morality and what is called practical policy are not two contradictory things.

Lastly, it is clear that the present group of teachers cannot be expected to give effect to the scheme of education presented here. They may manage to teach the boys the alphabet and also simple arithmetic. But they themselves are ignorant of the type of knowledge which, according to the scheme I have sketched, should be made available to the boys in the very first year of the school. Since they themselves do not speak correctly, how can they then help the boys to form the habit of correct speech?

We will consider this difficulty in the next article.

Navajivan, 13 May 1928 (Problem of Education, pp. 147–49)

A system of education has to be so conceived as to be an instrument of protection of the freedom of a nation.

Hence, we must make our own experiments in education. It may well be that in the course of these experiments we get to know the experiences which Europe has had; but we should never give credence to the idea that everything European is good, or that what is good for Europe under the conditions obtaining there will also be good for us here in India. Granting that this line of reasoning is correct, one of the conclusions it leads us to is that we should evaluate what goes on in the Government schools critically. Knowing as we do that Government education is detrimental to Swaraj and destructive of our civilization, we are likely to get at the right solution for us if we do just the opposite of what is done in the Government schools. Let us now study examples:

There, the medium of education is English. We should know from this that it should never be permitted in national education.

There, they have big expensive buildings. We should know that this is undesirable. The buildings of our school should be simple— as befit the poor.

There, they concentrate on mere literacy and the study of language and literature and neglect the indigenous crafts. Evidently this is not right.

There they leave out the teaching of religion—I mean the basic principles common to all religions and not any particular creed. We know that this has the effect of nullifying the good that the rest of the education might ordinarily do to students. History, as taught in Government schools, if not wholly untrue, is presented essentially from the point of view of the British Government. German, French and American historians would treat and interpret the same material in a different way. Even recent events, as for example, the Punjab Massacre is presented by Government writers in one way and by nationalist writers in quite another light.

Economics, as taught in Government schools, approves of the policies of the Government, while we look at them from a totally different point of view.

While in Government primary schools, the teachers are appointed without any consideration of their character, in our schools they must be men of the highest character. The former have only the minimum qualifications for the work they are expected to do and are paid the lowest salaries. The latter, on the other hand, should be highly qualified men and though they will also be paid low salaries, the reason would be their selflessness and not their helplessness.

This, I think, should give you some idea of the type of education which should be given in our city schools.

Our students should be men who will work for the stabilization and revitalization of our rural civilization. They would study the needs of the villagers, try to remove the defects they may discover in them and train their children to become good farmers and good villagers and not to be lured by the dazzle of the cities. Thus, as long as we do not set about to make a radical change in the form and content of the education now going on in the cities, we cannot fulfil one of the important aims of the Vidyapith. Take only one example: We are running three institutions in Ahmedabad—the Mahavidyalaya or the college, the New Gujarati Pathashala, and the Vinaya Mandir or the secondary school. We have the right to run these institutions only if we mean to try to make good villagers of the students studying in them. They should have a thorough knowledge of village life and develop a love for it. Eventually, those of them who pass out of the Mahavidyalaya or the Vinaya Mandir, after having completed their studies, should spread out in the villages and immerse themselves in the service of the people there.

As to how this could be done, we shall consider it in the next article.

Navajivan, 20 May 1928 (CW 36, pp. 327–29)

The problem of primary education, i.e., of rural education, can be tackled and solved only if the teachers appreciate and accept the point of view presented by me, and we agree to overhaul and change the curriculum in the Vinaya Mandir and Mahavidyalaya.

Today, we hesitate to make any changes out of fear for what people might say, or because the number of students might go down and the institution may suffer in the estimate of the people. But if we could make bold and introduce the necessary changes there would pass out from these schools a group of workers pledged to the service of the villages who would atone in some degree at least for the sin of the cities.

The students passing out of these schools should be first class carders, spinners and weavers. They should be experts in the cultivation of cotton. They should know enough carpentry for the purposes of the village, that is, they should be able to manufacture good Charkhas and should be able if not to manufacture at least to repair the carts and ploughs etc. Then they should know enough sewing for village-life. Their handwriting must be good, and they should be able to write good simple prose, as also to work out simple arithmetical problems. They should be intimately conversant with old religious books like the Ramayana and Mahabharata, and have the ability to interpret them in terms of today. They should know village games and the rules of health. They should be able to recognize simple diseases and cure them through simple home remedies. They should know the art of cleaning the village-wells, tanks and dust-heaps. I could recount many other things. But the point is that our schools should provide such training to the boys as would enable them to serve the villages in every way. And the expenditure incurred on this training should be regarded as having been incurred on education. Such training alone would qualify us to enter and reform village-life.

I am aware that some of you fear that as soon as we introduce these changes and clarify our aim as above our schools would be empty. But even if this fear proves true I would be ready to face it for the sake of truth. But as long as it is the object of the Vidyapith to work out a suitable system of education for the villages, it will be a betrayal of our trust not to do so.

But it is my experience and conviction that if we stick to our aims with undivided loyalty, the people will come to recognize their importance in the end and co-operate with us in their propagation. If we try to discover the reasons of this real or supposed failure we will find that the workers were either not loyal to their aims or only half-hearted in carrying them out. A man who wavers in his faith, as says the Gita, is doomed to failure.

It is my firm belief that if there were in our schools teachers who have faith and the spirit of sacrifice, they would be filled with students. People do recognize and appreciate fundamental values. It may seem that this takes an unusually long time to come about in many cases. But this is merely an illusion. The fact is that the right path is also always the shortest.

How does it profit anyone if a school which encourages the desire for sensual pleasures and panders to the weaknesses of people attracts large numbers? Mere numbers do not prove the usefulness of an institution or its success in its chosen task. I am aware that the acceptance of my scheme may lead to but one result, i.e, the students who have come here in the hope of getting the same sort of education as they do in Government school or of acquiring the equipment for a comfortable city-life, will leave our schools. But that would be good. It will save both us and them from an undesirable situation and enable both to serve each other in a disinterested way.

I think I have said enough to have explained my viewpoint in regard to the problem of primary education which was the purpose in writing the present series. I have to add only a little more and then I will close it. And then I hope to discuss a few questions put to me on the subject.

If the idea of not introducing the teaching of the alphabet in the first year of primary education is correct, some of its good result should also be visible in our Vinaya Mandirs or secondary schools and the Mahavidyalaya.

There is a great increase in the number of books being brought out today. Books are being published daily. Whoever has or thinks he has a certain command of the language or believes to have studied or reflected a little over a certain thing, becomes impatient to express his ideas in writing and have them printed, and actually thinks that he thereby serves the country. The result is that there is a great strain on the minds of the students and the pockets of the parents! The intellectual growth of the students is paralyzed. The minds become store-houses of strange and unrelated facts and there is no room left in them for original ideas. And those facts too do not fall each into its right place as in a well-arranged plan but lie scattered as the things in the house of a lazy man. Neither can they make any worthwhile use of them nor do they yield any good to the people.

Therefore, if I could have my way, I would not put the large number of books that are being published today into the hands of the people. Even the students who know reading and writing receive most of what they get to learn from the teacher’s mouth. So I would advise the students to read only a few selected books. But they should think over what they read and put into practice what appears worthwhile. If they do so, it will make their lives beautiful and pure as also full of strength and energy. They will have learnt to think and discriminate—the hall-mark of real education. This is the education which will suit and profit our poor people. It will do good to both the students and the people.

The solution of the difficult problem which faces Vidyapith depends upon the capacity of its present teachers to sincerely reflect upon and accept the aims of the Vidyapith and to try to implement them in practice.

Navajivan, 3 July 1928 (CW 36, pp. 343-45)

I believe in guru-bhakti.But every teacher cannot be a guru. The guru–shishya—the teacher–disciple—relation in this sense is something spiritual and springs up spontaneously. In any case it is not an artificial thing or a product of pressure from without. Such teachers still exist in India. (It should not be necessary to sound the warning that I am not speaking here of spiritual teachers who have the power to lead the aspirants to liberation.) Such teachers have no use for flattery. Respect for them must be natural and so is the love of the teacher for his pupil. That being so, the teacher is ever ready to give, and the pupil equally ready to receive.

Navajivan, 3 July 1928

Having written the previous three articles about primary education, it is now somewhat easy to answer the following questions:

You once wrote that if the burden of English were lightened it will save a few precious years in the life of the students which are now wasted. What is your estimate of this wastage in terms of years and of the loss it means to society?

Let me first explain what I mean by lightening the burden of English. I do not mean that the students should stop learning English altogether. We may learn it and use it but only as a Frenchman knows and uses English; that is, we should learn and know it as one does a foreign language. If we try to limit our learning of English to this extend, we would not be required to think in English and speak it correctly with the right pronunciation and to write it with the mastery of an Englishman. I am inclined to think that every student wastes at least five years of his life in this useless endeavour. Not only that, this forced labour over a thing for which he feels no genuine attraction cripples his power of original thinking. His body weakens and he becomes almost a blotting-paper—a blind imitator of superfluities. How much more a man can acquire if he spends five years in acquiring knowledge through his mother tongue? How much time and energy would he save? He will easily get to know the best thought through his own language and yet be saved from the great trouble in mastering the difficult pronunciation of a foreign language.

Child education at one end and college education at the other are both very expensive. Are both these to be included in national education? Have you a scheme to provide both and an equally high type of education at a cheaper cost?

I have tried to show in the three previous articles how the education of the children can be made cheaper, even, almost self-supporting. If we could bring the same approach to bear on college education, it too could be made cheaper, and the students well enabled to acquire such knowledge which will strengthen the nation. If by the expression—‘an equally high type of education’ the correspondent means an education resembling that to be found in Government institution, the question does not arise, because I do not consider Government type of education to be desirable at all. The education offered in national colleges or national schools is different from the former and often original in many ways. Therefore, it is good in its own way.

Do you think that teachers have the right to impart religious instruction to the boys in their charge in whatever way they like?

Teachers have to conform to the policy or policies laid down by the organization to which they belong; they cannot, therefore, claim the right to give religious education in the way they would like to do it. As in other subject so also in the matter of religious instruction the teacher must carry out the policy decided upon by those in charge of the organization. Of course, the teacher should be free to choose his method of teaching, but what he teaches will have to be in conformity with the ideals accepted by the organization in the matter of religion. It is true that while one may teach other subjects by reading a few selected books on those subjects, this is not possible in the case of religious education. In fact, it cannot be imparted through books at all. While instruction in other subjects is mostly through the intellect, in religious education it has to be from the heart to the heart. Therefore, a teacher should not undertake to teach religion unless he is himself deeply religious. It is also necessary to exercise a certain discrimination. For example, nothing that is likely to promote violence should be taught in a school which accepts non-violence as the highest form of religion. Similarly, there should be no room for any propaganda against any of the other religions in a school which has adopted for itself the ideal of love, charity and tolerance in regard to all religions. In short, if a school accepts the need for providing religious education, it must also clearly define the content of such education, and not leave it to the whims of the teachers concerned as this would result in chaos.

If it is considered necessary for every student to know at least three to four languages don’t you think it is equally necessary to introduce students to the basic tenets, rites, dogmas and superstitions of all the existing religions?

If we want to create a feeling of respect and love among the students towards every religion—which is religion in the true sense of the word and not an irreligion, we must surely provide them a knowledge of its main tenets. I do not think it is necessary to know the superstitions which have crept in into different religions and the special rites pertaining to each of them. In a country like India everyone who keeps his eyes and ears open can easily see for himself what these rites and superstitions are. If we would become seekers of good—wherever we find it, as we must, we should not want to know the rites and superstitions of every religion. They are quite unnecessary. It should be enough to know the rites and superstitions of our own religion and to impress upon the boys the need to reform them wherever necessary. That would itself take up enough of their time.

Since you believe in the varna, i.e, the four-fold division of society, do you accept, or not accept, that education provided to students should differ according to the varna?

I do not think that education should differ according to varna. There is much that is common between the different varnas and the education provided to them should be the same. The chief aim of education is to make of the students decent men and women. And he who would become a decent man would easily learn the laws of conduct governing human society—the laws which add to the glory of men. My conception of varna is that since the varna division rests on the difference in vocations, and every varna has to earn its livelihood through its appointed vocation, it would be found that men belonging to a particular varna generally inherit the characteristics of their class. I do not mean that a particular varna does not or cannot have the characteristics of the other three varnas. A Brahman would not earn his bread by working for others on hire-purchase basis, but if he does not know the art of service or is ashamed of it, he is not a Brahman at all. In the same way, though a Shudra may not teach the Vedas etc. and has to live on alms voluntarily given, he would surely have been given a sufficient grounding in the Vedas etc. in a well-organized society.

Is it true that training in useful crafts automatically includes all other education and that intellectual education is no more than a superficial decoration? If it is true, why do you approve and support the education given by the Mahavidyalaya?

This view is as true as it is false. Where people have idolized intellectual education I say that training in crafts includes all other education, for there is no insurmountable barrier between what is called intellectual education and the crafts. They are not like two water-tight compartments without any relation with each other. On the contrary, training in arts and crafts offers full scope for the development of the intellect. And I venture to claim that without it the development of intellect is impossible. If a mason knows just enough to earn his bread, he cannot be said to have had any education. The education of a mason should therefore include: the place of this craft in social life, the science of brick-laying, the need of housing, the requisites of a good house, and the close relation between civilization and houses for human habitation. To think that intellectual education means no more than a knowledge of certain facts is a gross misapprehension. Development of intellect is fully possible without any such knowledge. A teacher who turns the mind of students into a cupboard for storing all manner of facts has himself not learnt even the first lesson in teaching. The reader must, by now, have gathered from the above why I have called the view stated by the correspondent both true and false. It is false if my view about the training in crafts and intellectual training is accepted. But it is true if the question has been framed keeping in view the misunderstanding which springs from regarding intellectual education and training in useful crafts as two different things. It should be easy to see now why, and on what conditions, I approve and support the Mahvidyalaya and the education provided by it. In the institution of my conception the mason, the carpenter and the weaver will be intelligent social workers and not mere bread-earners who know only as much of their job as may be sufficient for the purpose. I hope for Kabir, Bhoja Bhagat, Akha and Guru Govind springing up respectively from the weavers, cobblers, goldsmiths and peasants studying at the Maha-vidyalaya. Who would say that Kabir, Bhoja Bhagat, Akha and Guru Govind were not men with an intellectual education?

If training in crafts be the essence of education why shouldn’t you entrust the Vidyapith to a committee composed of carpenters, blacksmiths and weavers? Let them then engage the services of teachers having to do with intellectual education if they so choose.

I think the answer to this question is already covered before. If I had weavers like Kabir I would certainly place the direction of the Vidyapith in their charge, and I am sure ‘the teachers having to do with intellectual education’ would consider it an honour to work as servants under them. That we did not consider arts and crafts fit to be included in the content of education is the reason why our craftsmen are relegated today to an inferior status in society and we cannot get any help from them in our endeavour to serve society.

It is mentioned in the statement of the aims and objects of Vidyapith that the progress of the country depends on the villages and not on the cities. If it is so, why do you spoil our city boys? Give village education to the village boys, if you must. But the city boys desire to live a city life. Why not arrange to give them an education which would suit them? And don’t you get all the money for the Vidyapith from the cities? Of course, we will have nothing to say if you would transfer the Vidyapith to some ideal village and collect the necessary money, grain and cotton locally from the village itself.

Fortunately, this question does not arise in the mind of many city people or city students. How can the city people who have expressed their readiness to atone for the wrong done to the villages ask for the village education to be given to the village boys at their own expense? The Vidyapith has come into existence as a result of the city people’s attention being drawn to the villages. It is the city people who decided to start the Vidyapith after they had their eyes opened. How could the villagers be called upon to pay its bill if it aims specially at the uplift of the villages? It is up to the city people to provide the wherewithal for the education even in the villages for the time being at least. The villagers can bring against us the same charge as we do against the Government. They may well say: "You city people have exploited us and are still exploiting us. Please stop it now. We will forget the past. Some of us realized the reality of the situation and woke up to our duty. We saw the wrong we have done to the villagers and resolved to make amends for it. The first part of this process was to non-co-operate with the Government under whose protection and with whose help we could and still can drain out the sap of life from them. The next was that as we learnt the deeper implications of non-co-operation, we also learnt to reject the illegitimate gains of that co-operation. If, after launching out on non-co-operation, we had simply sat quietly, it could justly be said against us that we had not grasped the meaning of non-co-operation. Supposing somebody started plundering our house, then it would not be enough not to help him. We must also step in to stop him from his nefarious business as also desist from sharing the spoils. Then only can it be called true non-co-operation with the plunderer. This non-co-operation can either be violent or non-violent, riotous or peaceful, based on brute-force or on soul-force. We have chosen to practise non-violent and peaceful non-co-operation based on soul-force. And we have come to realize in the process that as an expiation for the exploitation of the wealth of the villages which many city people indulge in, we should render some service at least to the villagers. The Vidyapith had its birth as a result of this realization on our part. And as some of us are wakeful and persistent in our efforts to know the truth, we are realizing the secret of non-co-operation more clearly every day, and to that extent trying to give a truer shape to the Vidyapith. This is sufficient reason why a major portion of the money donated by the city people should be spent on bringing education to the villagers. And the education for time being should be carried to them only through the students from the cities trained by the Vidyapith?

I am of the opinion that any other use of the money received by the Vidyapith will be a betrayal of the assurance given to the people. The donors have given the money in the belief that it will be used in providing education which will be of a different kind from the present one and conform to my conception of it.

The Vidyapith has consistently followed a policy of the removal of untouchability for the past eight years. How many vinitas and snatakas from among the untouchables has it turned out during this period?

The question appears strange, and suggests ignorance to me. The removal of untouchability does not and should not mean that we are to make the so-called "untouchable" boys vinitas and snatakas. It is quite possible that in the course of time some of them may become vinitas and snatakas. And that would be welcome. It is also right that the Vidyapith should be ready to help such boys. But to turn out snatakas from among the untouchables is in no way a part of the campaign for the removal of untouchability. The Vidyapith has demonstrated its love for the cause of the removal of untouchability by refusing thousands, if not lakhs, of rupees offered to it, by staking its very existence and by foregoing the valuable help of quite a few who were otherwise very able men in organizing its work.

We see quite clearly that in the absence of brahmacharya the nation has become both physically and mentally weak and its capacity for adventure, enterprise and perseverance has gone down. How is it then that you have not included brahmacharya in the last article of the constitution dealing with its aims and objects?

It is a good question. It cannot be proved that the physical and mental weakness afflicting the nation and the slackening of its capacity for adventure and enterprise are all due directly to the absence of brahmacharya. Nor can it be proved that brahmacharya will always result in physical strength. It is not therefore proper to connect brahmacharya with physical strength or weakness—which is after all an ephemeral good—and thus to detract from the importance of that celestial virtue. The people of the West are not brahmacharis, but they are not physically or mentally weak. Their capacity for sustained work and enterprise are excellent and exemplary. It may be said that the Gurkhas, Pathans, Sikhs, Dogras, and the English among the soldiers are not brahmacharis, but they have strongly built bodies. They will easily beat the student of our vyayamshala in a physical contest. It can thus be proved that it is not quite correct to maintain that physical strength, even a kind of mental energy, capacity for persistent effort and enterprise are impossible to achieve except through brahmacharya. The brahmacharya of my conception—the brahmacharya which leads one to the realization of Brahma is beyond physical and mental fitness. It is itself both the end and the means. I will, therefore, be willing to sacrifice the body to be able to observe it and achieve it. He who is attached to the body can hardly observe unbroken brahmacharya. Examples of its observance by Bhishma and others are likely to misdirect us in this case. Literal acceptance of things mentioned in the Mahabharata and Ramayana will lead us astray. What is required is to grasp their inner meaning which we should then put into practice. If we do that in the spirit of true inquiry and experimentation we would surely march forward.

The body is not a thing to be carelessly thrown away. It has to be preserved. The body, if it is at times the abode of Ravana, is also the Ayodhya of Rama. If it is kurukshetra—the field of action, it is also dharmakshetra—the field of duty. Hence, it cannot be ignored. It has to be kept fit and strong. Physical exercise is therefore necessary. But this is as far as we can go to praise physical exercise and this should be enough to popularize it among the students. We cannot insist on an unbreakable relation between physical exercise and brahmacharya. It will not only be an exaggeration; there is in it the further danger of a person abandoning brahmacharya when he finds himself lagging behind in physical strength in the erroneous belief that the reason for his failure lies in his practice of brahmacharya.

Brahmacharya does not need the support of physical strength. Its importance and need lie elsewhere. The West may have physical strength and mental energy, but they do not have soul-force. How can we entertain any feeling of envy for their physical strength and mental energy when we see that they succumb to inferior passions at every moment, cannot put up with the least opposition to their will, and spend all their energy, industry and enterprise in plundering and destroying other races? How can we think of copying them? Their strength and energy, shows lack of brahmacharya; this is why it has proved disastrous to the real progress of the world, and that is why I have called it satanic. I am not condemning the West, nor belittling it. There are many in the West who are votaries of truth and other moral principles. There are also many brahmacharis there. They understand these undesirable features of Western life I am referring to here. And so we can, in spite of our love and respect for the West, speak of all the sad results its furious endeavours have led to. If the civilization of the West had been raised on the secure foundations of the brahmacharya ideal, the world today would have been a different place. It would not then be the sorry mess it is, but a happy and beautiful habitation of noble men and women. Knowing thus the evil consequences of the non-observance of brahmacharya, we should put forward the ideal of brahmacharya before the people. Full development of the soul is impossible without it. A man may behave like an unbridled wild horse without brahmacharya, but he cannot achieve refinement and purity which is the mark of culture. There can be no sattwik, i.e., pure and enlightened endeavour and enterprise without brahmacharya. One may seem to have a strong and energetic mind even without brahmacharya, but then it will be a prey to a thousand passions and lures. Similarly, one may have a well-built and strong body even without brahmacharya, but it will not be a truly healthy body. It is not necessary for health to strengthen the muscles and put on fat. A body which, though lean and thin like a chip of wood, can bear cold and sun and rain and yet remain healthy—such a healthy body is impossible to have without brahmacharya. This is not a belief which I have come to hold today; it is an old belief and is moreover based on experience. I can give you numerous examples from my life and from the life of my friends and co-workers as to how every single impure thought wastes man’s energy and destroys his soul. I will say, therefore, that those who seek self-realization should preserve their brahmacharya even though the body may decline.

The reason for the weakness of the body and the mind to be found in our students lies elsewhere. The reasons are: child-marriage, the burden of the family, the lack of good food due to poverty, etc. Let not the readers make the mistake of regarding child-marriage as just non-brahmacharya. Great and persistent efforts are necessary in order to eradicate these evil habits. The harmful customs prevailing in society have to be reformed, and the burden of the present artificial type of education should be lightened. This is however a different subject; I will therefore not dwell on it here. I will merely state that our students cannot have a strong and healthy body merely by taking physical exercise. Efforts will have to be made in all directions; only then may we hope to achieve the results we desire.

Ever since you made your entry into the public life of this country, there has been a tendency to approach you and get your view of a problem whenever a person or persons have been in doubt and have thus failed to reach a clear-cut conclusion. People are eager to know from you whether a certain thing on a certain occasion is right or not. I am only describing the situation as it really is. It shows that all your activity is basically of a religious nature. Would it be right that when you are no more, these decisions be delivered by a body of persons by a majority vote if necessary? If not, is it not necessary to create what may prove to be continuous line of knowledgeable men, versed in the precepts of dharma?

I do not deem it worthy that people should approach me and ask me to pronounce judgment on disputable points. It is true that all my activities, whatever their outer form, are fundamentally religious. But the fact that I am asked to pronounce judgments on every disputed matter shows that people have either not understood the principles which I follow in shaping my conduct, or they have doubts about them. And because I am known as the Mahatma or respected as a good man, our people are credulous and not given to thinking for themselves, they continue to put all forms of questions to me. This may gratify my sense of pride or even help me up to a point in doing my work, but it does not appear to me if it helps in any appreciable way either the people or questioners. Indeed, I have often felt how nice it would be if I stopped making any pronouncements and did whatever suggested itself to me silently. But in that case I must first stop this weekly that I am now conducting, as also severely cut down much of my present correspondence. That, however, would need a courage which I do not feel within myself. But, there is the great friend of man, the Lord of Death, who can extend his invitation to me at any time and put a stop to all this chatter on my part whether I agree or not.

I do not see any wrong in bodies or associations of men following my principles and giving their opinions on disputed questions by a majority vote when I am no more, or even now whilst I am alive. But as in the case of individuals so also in that of groups they must be inspired by the ideal of dharma.

The education in the Vidyapith is divided into three distinct stages: the primary, the secondary and the higher. How far would it be right to name these respectively as the education for the village, education for the city, and the education for those who would take up social service work?

I do not like the meanings suggested here by the correspondent to the primary, the secondary and the higher education respectively. Why should we want village people to be satisfied merely with primary education? They too have a right to receive secondary and higher education—those of them at least who want it. And the boys in the cities cannot do without primary education. The object of all the three should be the prosperity of the villages.

Why do you always attach so much importance to music?

It is said that the study of music is generally neglected in our country today. Without it, the entire educational system seems to me to be incomplete. Music brings sweetness to the individual and to the social life of the people. Even as pranayam is necessary for the regulation of breath, so is music for disciplining the voice. A dissemination of the knowledge of music among the people will greatly help in controlling and stopping the noise which is an usual feature of public meetings in this country. Music pacifies anger and its judicious use is highly helpful in leading a man to the vision of God. It does not mean shouting and shrieking a tune anyhow like a rigmarole, nor does it mean the singing of film songs. I have already referred to its ordinary meaning above, but its deeper meaning is that our whole life should be sweet and musical like a song. It goes without saying that life cannot be made like that without the practice of virtues such as truth, honesty etc. To make life musical means to make it one with God, to merge it into Him. He who has not rid himself of raga and dwesha, i.e., likes and dislike, who has not tasted of the joy of service, cannot have any understanding of celestial music. A study of music, which does not take account of this deeper aspect of this divine art, has little or no value for me.

The art of painting means an expression of the emotions of the artist through line and colour. If this definition of painting were to be accepted, would you include painting as an essential part of the scheme of national education which should be universally taught to all?

I have never disparaged drawing and painting, though I have certainly deprecated the blots of ink and colour passing under its name. I doubt if painting as defined by the artist could be made universal. There is this difference between music and painting: While painting can be learnt only by a few who have a natural aptitude for it, music must be and can be learnt by all. In painting too, drawing of straight lines and the figures of animate and inanimate objects can be taught to all. It is certainly useful and necessary and I want it to be taught to every boy before he is taught the alphabet.

Some people are of the view that such subjects as grammar, compound interest, higher geometry etc, which the learners are apt to forget in after years should not be included in the courses to be framed for purposes of national education. Do you agree to this? If you do, why should not Urdu also be put in the same category? When Hindus and Muslims feel the urge to come into close contact with each other and to understand each other’s cultures, then only will the knowledge of Sanskrit and Urdu prove useful and lasting. Knowledge of Urdu will be put to active use and hence increase only when there is respect for and a desire to learn the culture of which Urdu is the vehicle. Until then it is bound to remain no more than a religious rite like the worship of Ganesh—a formal affair without any practical value.

I do not understand why grammar, compound interest and higher geometry have all been classed together. I have always believed that grammar is absolutely necessary for the mastery of a language, and that grammar and higher geometry are highly interesting subjects. Both provide innocent intellectual entertainment. Besides, grammar is indispensable for the study of philology. I will, therefore, accord a place to both these subjects in the courses of study for national education. In the same way, he who wants to be good at accounts cannot do so without learning compound interest. Therefore, all the three things mentioned by the correspondent in the question will have their due place in the syllabus for national education. The point is that there are things which are common to all schemes of education. Today, we have to differentiate between Government education and National education because the former is detrimental to national development. But there are many things in Government schools which will and must also be in our schools. Thus, though there are points of similarity between the two, the atmosphere in Government schools strengthens the bonds of slavery and is used at critical moments to suppress us. Therefore, such schools are to be renounced. Besides, as we have already seen, a portion, at least, of the education imparted there is wholly unnecessary; it is just a burden and nothing more. But I am moving away from the subject under discussion. I have thought it fit to offer this clarification under the impression that I might not have grasped the point behind this question.

Urdu stands apart from the above-mentioned subjects: the question of its study must be considered separately. Hindus and Muslims will ultimately unite but in our national schools we must continue to strive unremittingly to bring them closer together. For this, we must acquaint ourselves with each other’s religion. If the students forget whatever little of Urdu they learn, evidently they are not serious about its study and must be learning it only because they must. But this can also be said about Hindi. Only God knows how interest in Hindi or Urdu can be created among the students, but there is no doubt in my mind that its knowledge is necessary for the progress of the nation.

Students should have full freedom; there should be nothing which will obstruct their free growth; to achieve this objective the teachers should have no prejudices for or against anything; while they teach they should so conduct themselves as though they have no partiality for any particular rule or habit or principle: This ideal for a teacher is coming to be accepted in many places. Do you accept it?

What has been said above can be supported as well as opposed. If it does not help in preserving the real essence, is should be opposed, and if it does help, the students may well be allowed full freedom and the teachers remain as detached and neutral as they like. They may do what they wish with a view to securing the independence of the students, the only condition being that they must mix with the students to the extent of being one of them. In the language of Akha, I will say to them:

"Live in the world as you like, but keep constantly before your mind the aim of attaining to God at any cost."

An ideal teacher never had nor should he ever have any other aim before him.

Navajivan, 3 June–1 July 1928 (The Problem of Education, pp. 154–69)

The National University stands today as a protest against British injustice, and as a vindication of national honour. But it has come to stay. It draws its inspiration from the national ideals of a united India. It stands for a religion which is the Dharma of the Hindus and Islam of Mohammedans. It wants to rescue the Indian vernaculars from unmerited oblivion and make them the fountains of national regeneration and Indian culture. It holds that a systematic study of Asiatic cultures is no less essential than the study of Western sciences for a complete education for life. The vast treasures of Sanskrit and Arabic, Persian and Pali, and Magadhi have to be ransacked in order to discover wherein lies the source of strength for the nation. It does not propose merely to feed on, or repeat, the ancient cultures. It rather hopes to build a new culture based on the traditions of the past, enriched by the experience of later times. It stands for the synthesis of the different cultures that have come to stay in India, that have influenced Indian life and that in their turn, have themselves been influenced by the spirit of the soil. This synthesis will naturally be of the Swadeshi type where each culture is assured its legitimate place, and not of American pattern, where one dominant culture absorbs the rest, and where the aim is not towards harmony, but towards an artificial and forced unity. That is why the University has desired a study of all the Indian religions by its students. The Hindus may thus have an opportunity of studying the Koran and the Muslims of knowing what the Hindus Shastras contain. If the University has excluded anything, it is the spirit of exclusion that regards any section of humanity as permanently untouchable. The study of Hindustani, which is a national blend of Sanskrit, Hindi and Persianized Urdu, has been made compulsory. The spirit of independence will be fostered not only through Religion, Politics and History but through vocational training also, which alone can give the youths of the country economic independence and a backbone that comes out of a sense of self-respect. The University hopes to organize higher schools throughout the mofussil towns, so that education may be spread broadcast and filtered down to the masses as early as possible. The use of Gujarati as the medium of education will facilitate this process and, ere long, the suicidal cleavage between the educated and the non-educated will be bridged. And as an effect of industrial education to the genteel folks, and literary education for the industrial classes, the unequal distribution of wealth and the consequent social discontent will be considerably checked. The greatest defect of the Government Universities has been their alien control and the false values they have created as regards ‘careers’. The Gujarat Universities by non-co-operating with the Government has automatically eradicated both these evils from its own system. If the founders and promoters stick to this resolve till the Government becomes nationalized, it will help them to cultivate a clear perception of national ideals and national needs.

Tagore, pp. 455–57; 17 November 1920 (CW 18, p. 481)

I would revolutionize college education and relate it to national necessities. There would be degrees for mechanical and other engineers. They would be attached to the different industries which should pay for the training of the graduates they need. Thus the Tatas would be expected to run a college for training engineers under the supervision of the State, the mill associations would run among them a college for training graduates whom they need.

Similary for the other industries that may be named. Commerce will have its college. There remain arts, medicine and agriculture. Several private arts colleges are today self-supporting. The State would, therefore, cease to run its own. Medical colleges would be attached to certified hospitals. As they are popular among moneyed men they may be expected by voluntary contributions to support medical colleges. And agricultural colleges to be worthy of the name must be self-supporting. I have a painful experience of some agricultural graduates. Their knowledge is superficial. They lack practical experience. But if they had their apprenticeship on farms which are self-sustained and answer the requirements of the country, they would not have to gain experience after getting their degrees and at the expense of their employers.

Harijan, 31 July 1937 (CW 65, p. 451)

Higher education should be left to private enterprise and for meeting national requirements whether in the various industries, technical arts, belles-letters or fine arts.

The State Universities should be purely examining bodies, self-supporting through the fees charged for examinations.

Universities will look after the whole of the field of education and will prepare and approve courses of studies in the various departments of education. No private school should be run without the previous sanction of the respective Universities. University charters should be given liberally to any body of persons of proved worth and integrity, it being always understood that the Universities will not cost the State anything except that it will bear the cost of running a Central Education Department.

The foregoing scheme does not absolve the State from running such seminaries as may be required for supplying State needs.

Harijan, 2 October 1937

Thus I claim that I am not an enemy of Higher Education. But I am an enemy of Higher Education as it is given in this country. Under my scheme there will be more and better libraries, more and better laboratories, more and better research institutes. Under it we should have an army of chemists, engineers and other experts who will be real servants of the nation, and answer the varied and growing requirements of a people who are becoming increasingly conscious of their rights and wants. And all these experts will speak, not a foreign language, but the language of the people. The knowledge gained by them will be the common property of the people. There will be truly original work instead of mere imitation. And the cost will be evenly and justly distributed.

Harijan, 9 July 1938 (CW 67, p. 158)

Your third conclusion about general revenue and claims of Higher Education and its corollary, viz. that Universities should be self-supporting, has left me unconvinced. I believe that every country to be a progressive country must have sufficient facilities for the pursuit of all branches of knowledge—not merely chemistry, medicine and engineering, but every kind of knowledge, literature, philosophy, history, sociology, both abstract and applied. All higher pursuits require many facilities which cannot be had without State support. A country depending only on voluntary effort for such pursuits is sure to fall behind and suffer. It can never hope to be free and be able to maintain that freedom. The State must be jealously watchful over the position of higher education in all fields. Voluntary effort must be there and we must have our Nuffields and Rockfellers. But the State cannot and must not be allowed to remain a silent spectator. It must actively come forward to organize, help and direct. I wish you to clarify this aspect of the question.

You say at the end of your article: ‘Under my scheme there will be more and better libraries.’ I do not find The Scheme you speak of in your article, nor am I able to make out how ‘more and better libraries and laboratories’ will come into being thereunder. I am of opinion that such libraries and laboratories must be maintained, and so long as donors and voluntary agencies are not coming forward in sufficient numbers, the State cannot divest itself of this responsibility.1

My article is clear enough if the expression ‘definite use’ mentioned in it is given its extensive meaning. I have not pictured a poverty-stricken India containing ignorant millions. I have pictured to myself an India continually progressing along the lines best suited to her genius. I do not, however, picture it as a third class or even a first class copy of the dying civilization of the West. If my dream is fulfilled and every one of the seven lakhs of villages becomes a well-living republic in which there are no illiterates, in which no one is idle for want of work, in which everyone is usefully occupied and has nourishing food, well-ventilated dwellings, and sufficient Khadi for covering the body, and in which all the villagers know and observe the laws of hygiene and sanitation, such a State must have varied and increasing needs, which it must supply unless it would stagnate. I can therefore well imagine the State financing all the education my correspondent mentions and much more that I could add. And if the State has such requirements, surely it will have corresponding libraries.

What, however, according to my view the State will not have is an army of B.A.’s and M.A.’s with their brains sapped with too much cramming and minds almost paralyzed by the impossible attempt to speak and write English like Englishmen. The majority of these have no work, no employment. And when they have the latter, it is usually clerkships at which most of the knowledge gained during their twelve years of High Schools and Colleges is of no use whatsoever to them.

University training becomes self-supporting when it is utilized by the State. It is criminal to pay for a training which benefits neither the nation nor the individual. In my opinion there is no such thing as individual benefit which cannot be proved to be also national benefit. And since most of my critics seem to be agreed that the existing Higher Education, and for that matter both Primary and Secondary, are not connected with realities, it cannot be of benefit to the State. When it is directly based on realities and is wholly given through the mother tongue, I shall perhaps have nothing to say against it. To be based on realities is to be based on national, i.e., State, requirements. And the State will pay for it. Even when that happy time comes, we shall find that many institutions will be conducted by voluntary contributions. They may or may not benefit the State. Much of what passes for education today in India belongs to that category and would therefore not be paid for from the general revenue, if I had the way.

Harijan, 30 July 1938 (CW 67, pp. 210–12)

Gandhiji remarked at the Conference of Education Ministers in Poona that what he had said about adult education applied to University education. It must be originally related to the Indian scene. It must therefore be an extension and continuation of the Basic Education course. That was the central point. If they did not see eye to eye with him on that point, he was afraid they would have little use for his advice. If, on the other hand, they agreed with him that the present University education did not fit them for independence but only enslaved them, they would be as impatient as he was to completely overhaul and scrap that system and remodel it on new lines consonant with the national requirement.

Today the youth educated in our universities either ran after the Government jobs or fell into devious ways and sought outlet for their frustration by fomenting unrest. They were not even ashamed to beg or sponge upon others. Such was their sad plight. The aim of University education should be to turn out true servants of the people, who would live and die for the country’s freedom. He was therefore of opinion that University education should be co-ordinated and brought into line with Basic Education, by taking in teachers from the Talimi Sangh.

Harijan, 25 August 1946

There seems to be a mania for establishing new universities in the provinces. Gujarat wants one for Gujarati, Maharashtra for Marathi, Karnatic for Kannad, Orissa for Uriya, Assam for Assami and what not. I do believe that there should be such universities if these rich provincial languages and the people who speak them are to attain their full height.

At the same time I fear that we betray ourselves into undue haste in accomplishing the object. The first step should be linguistic political redistribution of provinces. Their separate administration will naturally lead to the establishment of universities where there are none. The province of Bombay absorbs three languages: Gujarati, Marathi and Kannad and, therefore, stunts their growth. Madras absorbs four: Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam and Kannad. Thus there is overlapping also. That Andradesh has an Andhra University is true. In my opinion it does not occupy the place it would, if Andhra was a separate administrative unit, free from foreign control. India attained that freedom only two months ago. The same thing can be said of the Annamalai University. Who can say that Tamil has come to its own in that University?

There should be a proper background for new universities. They should have feeders in the shape of schools and colleges which will impart instruction through the medium of their respective provincial languages. Then only can there be a proper milieu. University is at the top. A majestic top can only be sustained if there is a sound foundation.

Though we are politically free, we are hardly free from the subtle domination of the West. I have nothing to say to that school of politicians who believe that knowledge can only come from the West. Nor do I subscribe to the belief that nothing good can come out of the West. I do fear, however, that we are unable as yet to come to a correct decision in the matter. It is to be hoped that no one contends that because we seem to be politically free from foreign domination, the mere fact gives us freedom from the more subtle influence of the foreign language and foreign thought. Is it not wisdom, does not duty to the country dictate, that before we embark on new universities we should stop and fill our own lungs first with the ozone of our newly got freedom? A university never needs a pile of majestic buildings and treasures of gold and silver. What it does need most of all is the intelligent backing of public opinion. It should have a large reservoir of teachers to draw upon. Its founders should be farseeing.

In my opinion it is not for a democratic State to find money for founding universities. If the people want them they will supply the funds. Universities so founded will adorn the country which they represent. Where administration is in foreign hands, whatever comes to the people comes from the top and thus they become more and more dependent. Where it is broad-based on popular will, everything goes from bottom upward and hence it lasts. It is good looking and strengthens the people. In such a democratic scheme money invested in the promotion of learning gives a tenfold return to the people even as a seed sown in good soil returns a luxuriant crop. Universities founded under foreign domination have run in the reverse direction. Any other result was perhaps impossible. Therefore, there is every reason for being cautious about founding new universities till India has digested the newly-acquired freedom.

Then take the Hindu–Muslim question. The poison has assumed dangerous proportions, such that it is difficult to forecast where it will land us. Assume that the unthinkable has happened and that not a single Muslim can remain in the Union safely and honourably and that neither Hindu nor Sikh can do likewise in Pakistan. Our education will then wear a poisonous form. If, on the other hand, Hindus, Muslims and all the others who may belong to different faiths can live in either dominion with perfect safety and honour, then in the nature of things our education will take a shape altogether pleasing. Either people of different faiths having lived together in friendship have produced a beautiful blend of cultures, which we shall strive to perpetuate and increasingly strengthen and shape, or we shall cast about for the day when there was only one religion represented in Hindustan and retrace our steps to that exclusive culture. It is just possible that we might not be able to find any such historical date and if we do and we retrace our steps, we shall throw our culture back to that ugly period and deservedly earn the execration of the universe. By way of example, if we make the vain attempt to obliterate the Muslim period, we shall have to forget that there was a mighty Juma Masjid in Delhi second to none in the world, or that there was a Muslim University in Aligarh, or that there was the Taj in Agra, one of the seven wonders of the world, or that there were the great forts of Delhi and Agra built during the Moghul period. We shall then have to rewrite our history with that end in view. Surely, today we have not the atmosphere whch will enable us to come to a right conclusion about the conflicting choices. Our two months’ old freedom is struggling to get itself shaped. We do not know what shape it will ultimately take. Until we know this definitely, it should be enough if we make such changes as are possible in the existing universities and breathe in our existing educational institutions the quickening spirit of freedom. The experience we will thus gain will be helpful when the time is ripe for founding new universities.

Harijan, 2 November 1947 (CW 89, pp. 402–04)