Mahatma Gandhi’s philosophy of satyagraha, or the insistence on truth and passive resistance, marked the beginning of his pursuit for equality and acceptance. My great great grandfather walked the two lands I hold dear, India and South Africa, paving the way for independence in each, shifting the course of history and setting ideals that would be emulated by many.
South Africa a hundred years ago was a starkly different country engulfed by the dark shadows of colonialism. Many learnt about Gandhi, the slight, bald and bespectacled man clad in little else than a loin cloth who began his journey of passive resistance in South Africa, which paved the way for India’s independence. I learnt about Bapuji (what Gandhi is fondly called) the man who instilled the value of satyagraha in his children and grandchildren.
His legacy was this power of satyagraha. Gandhi’s willingness to risk his freedom through civil disobedience without violence was the core of this phenomenon. Converting the opposing force or resisting with love was novel. The allure of the movement is that once you are charmed by the stories of passive resistance, satyagraha becomes firmly entrenched in you.
Perhaps the one legacy that has impacted the Gandhi family the most has been his printing press. After 10 years of a relentless crusade, Gandhi realized that the twin tasks of mobilizing public opinion and influencing official decisions required a newspaper.
As a great great grandchild returning to the Phoenix settlement in Durban in South Africa, it is often quite incredible to imagine that Gandhi, the commercial lawyer, had the foresight to understand the power of the media by starting a newspaper, Indian Opinion. This is perhaps why so many members of my family, and I, often seek solace in words to articulate our thoughts. The allure is in the history of Indian Opinion, where words became the cornerstone for change and acceptance.
As a family, we are often so disillusioned by the times, the violence and the conflict that seems to have engulfed the world. Disillusionment is soothed, however, by gentle reminders.
Phoenix transformed into a place for community living, a hundred acres of land with a school, a clinic and an arena for activists to meet in the true tradition of Gandhi’s philosophy. Family reunions are often spent retracing these moments with afternoons at Phoenix settlement in the company of my great aunt Ela Gandhi who takes us on nostalgic adventures.
We sit captivated by tales of our great great grandfather who began as a timid young boy, became a lawyer and transformed into a movement. We are awe-struck by the accounts of unwavering and untainted passive resistance, we listen with bated breath at the steadfast ideals he passed on from generation to generation, beginning with his four sons who were instilled with strong work ethics, a moral compass and ideals.
The narrative of satyagraha echoes in South Africa’s own stories of struggle. Born a few years before the end of the apartheid in South Africa, I grew up listening to stories of resistance, the underlying message of peace and passivity often serving as the moral. In tales that could compete with Aessop’s fables, I regaled in South Africa’s history as told by family and friends. Growing up, there was a lot I didn’t fully understand. I didn’t understand human rights, I didn’t understand equality or freedom, because I couldn’t fathom not having them or anyone else being denied them. Herein lies the magic of my family and the legacy that follows us. My bedtime stories were mesmerizing tales of people I knew, these formidable men and dignified women who had become the personification of satyagraha. They had guaranteed me my human rights, my equality, my freedom. I was surrounded by these people who had fought vehemently for what they believed in and told me their enthralling stories while I sat wide-eyed, listening intently, scared I might miss a word. These stories reincarnated Gandhi’s legacy in a timeline of differing contexts, satyagraha was imbibed into the fight for democracy.
Satyagraha has undoubtedly become a global movement but it is a legacy deep-rooted in my family. History lessons for 45 minutes a day, reading begrudgingly from a textbook or listening to my teachers, had little impact in comparison to the firsthand accounts I received, the anecdotes on Gandhi and his quest for equality.
Bapuji’s legacy has stretched far beyond the notion of satyagraha, it is entrenched in the freedoms I hold dear today, it is deeply embedded in the history of South Africa, and is a guiding force for anything I write. For me, his legacy is the ability to create a fundamental shift in the conscience of the masses through the written word.

Sunita-Menon

Gandhi

It’s 8am and Ela Gandhi, wearing a traditional khadi kameez, is seated on a sofa by the window of her modest 13th floor apartment in the hilly Glenwood area of Durban, South Africa.
The apartment, where she lives with her youngest daughter Ashish Ramgobin and her two children, overlooks the Durban harbor and offers sweeping vistas of the city. A stately piano is next to her, which she often plays, and above it, a painting of her grandfather Mahatma Gandhi gifted to her by the Rustomjee business family in Durban.
In the living room where she is, are glass showcases filled with sepia photographs, Gandhi memorabilia, pictures of Ela with Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama, and several silver and crystal plaques, medallions and awards, among them, the prestigious Padma Bhushan (India’s third highest civilian award) she received from the Indian government in 2007.
In January this year, Ela received an award for her lifetime contribution to the freedom struggle in South Africa alongside other veterans of the Umkhonto we Sizwe (Spear of the Nation) – the armed struggle wing of the African National Congress (ANC). Ela clarifies she had never been a member of the armed wing, but receiving the award was an honor.
On the other side of the room, pictures of her as a child with her grandmother Kasturba Gandhi, and in the lap of Abdul Gaffar Khan, a lifelong pacifist and friend of her grandfather’s. There is a black and white photo in the hallway that is a particular favorite: of a six-year-old Ela in a white dress standing next to Mahatma Gandhi at the height of the freedom struggle in India.
In her bedroom are bookshelves laden with tomes on her grandfather; she rates the one by author Sudheendra Kulkarni to be the best. She spends most mornings here, working on the computer, editing articles for the monthly non-profit newspaper Satyagraha published in Durban.
<div id="attachment_6385" style="width: 210px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-6385" class="wp-image-6385 size-medium" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/FWA-2014-Aug-Sep-030-031-Ela-Gandhi-002-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" />Ela at the Phoenix Settlement in Inanda; on the wall is the reproduction of a note signed “MK Gandhi”</div>
“I have been inspired by my grandfather’s teachings all my life. Be the change you wish to see, is my favorite quote of his,” says Ela.
Her daughter Ramgobin, who runs an NGO promoting sustainable livelihoods for the poor, says Gandhi is an important part of their legacy in South Africa. “In India, Mahatma Gandhi is a public holiday, but his messages are very relevant in our lives here,” she says.
Ela has upheld the family’s legacy, running several community projects, among them the Phoenix Settlement where Gandhi ran his anti-discrimination activities during his 21-year stint in South Africa. All through her illustrious political career, Ela has had the distinction of interacting with Nobel laureates – Tutu, Mandela, and Albert Luthuli who was also a close friend of the Gandhis.
&nbsp;
The Drive To Phoenix
Ela revs up the engine of her turquoise Toyota sedan for the 20 kilometer drive to the Phoenix Settlement in Inanda district. As she hits the N2 North freeway – she is a careful driver – she speaks of the apartheid era, when she was banned in 1973 for her political activism, and placed under house arrest for eight-and-a-half years.
“I had to report to the police station every Saturday and couldn’t leave the house between 7PM and 7AM. I had to stay indoors on weekends and public holidays,” she says.
The years roll by as she recollects the day her son Khush was shot dead, a year before South Africa’s democratic elections. He was only 29. To date, she does not know who was behind it or if it was politically motivated.
“The scar of losing a child will never leave you. [We] will never know why it happened. It was covered up,” says Ela.
In 1990, she was among the United Democratic Front team that met with Mandela at Pollsmoor Prison in Cape Town prior to his release. When the ANC government came to power in 1994, she served as an MP for nine years. She has met with Madiba many times since.
“He used to call me by name,” she says.
As still part of the Phoenix constituency, Ela developed a program against domestic violence, and started her work with the Gandhi Development Trust.
When we finally reach the Phoenix Settlement, it is clear Ela feels at home here.
This is where she was born in 1940, living here for the first six years of her life. After the Mahatma’s return to India in 1914, it was Ela’s father Manilal Gandhi who came back to Phoenix in 1917 to run the Gujarati-English newspaper Indian Opinion and continue his father’s legacy. Ela’s father was also a strong influence in her life on the Phoenix farm.
“We had a small kitchen with a chimney and a central dining room. All the children slept on the wooden floor. The place was buzzing with life. Although we had no power or water, we had very good times here,” she recalls.
When her grandfather first set up the communal farm in 1904, the homestead was a humble wood and iron dwelling. He valued simplicity, manual work and self-sufficiency. “It was a snake-infested property and my grandfather was afraid of snakes,” she says.
What was a 100-acre farm is today “a fenced-in area of about 1.5 acres” including a school and a museum, which records Mahatma Gandhi’s influences – Tolstoy being one of them – and how he influenced the world.
“This is a site of extraordinary significance in the liberation movement. John Dube, the founding president of the ANC, was his neighbor. There was so much contact between them, but it’s not talked about,” says Ela.
Ela remembers one particular conversation she had with her grandfather, while at the Sevagram (land of service) ashram in India that advocated simple living and farming.
“I told him that if they want to cook and serve pumpkins in the communal kitchens everyday, why do they call it ‘land of service’? They should call it ‘land of pumpkins’. Later during a speech, he told the people that when he asked them to live in simplicity, he did not expect them to eat pumpkins every day. I remember so distinctly that conversation with him and the aftermath of it. Everybody was curious who had leaked it to him.”
Ela says even after he left South Africa, Gandhi stayed in touch with Indians here, telling them “your destiny is connected with Africans, so work closely with them”.
Ela visits India at least twice a year, visiting her mother’s relatives in the state of Maharashtra, and never missing an opportunity to visit the Gandhi memorial at Raj Ghat in New Delhi.
“I visit India, but I am a proud South African,” says Ela. She is Gandhi’s indelible link to South Africa.

Tag: Mahatma Gandhi

FORBES AFRICA SOCIAL MEDIA

Gandhi

Grandfather Gandhi AND I