In the winter months of 1934, two RSS Officers Training Camps were taking place simultaneously. The first was in Nagpur, where Martand Jog was in charge, and the second, where approximately 1500 swayamsevaks had gathered, was in Wardha and was led by Appa Joshi. The grounds of the camp belonged to Jamnalal Bajaj, who, at the beginning of 1934, had gone to see Hedgewar with a series of questions about what the Sangh stood for and to ascertain what type of movement the RSS would be in a new India. He had known Hedgewar personally, having worked together in 1916 for the Congress. Bajaj was trying to understand who was behind the RSS; was it just a muscular expression of the Hindu Mahasabha, which had broken away from the Congress? Hedgewar, as had become his way, was fairly candid and told him the RSS way and why he could not align fully with the Congress or the Mahasabha. Bajaj was dissatisfied with the answers. Both men were of the same age, and though at different ends of the spectrum socio-economically, and in world views, they both nevertheless respected each other. Bajaj’s actions indicate as much in so far as he made his vast estate available to the RSS.
Directly opposite the grounds where the RSS was constructing its camp lay a vast swath of land also owned by Bajaj, which he had donated to Gandhi’s ashram. As soon as the ashram was somewhat ready to be occupied, Gandhi, unilaterally, as often was his way, decided to rename the entire village from Segaon to Sewagram. Gandhi had arrived and was settling into his new ashram when the camp was in full swing. It was hard not to notice. Gandhi stayed in a large manor house opposite the camp a few hundred metres away. He saw what would have looked like a military regiment setting up camp opposite. The RSS OTCs were notoriously like British military training camps, with the subtle but unmissable difference being that at the centre of the grounds would be a tall pole on top of which fluttered the bhagwa dhwaj (saffron flag).
The inauguration of the camp was held on 22 December 1934. Gandhi and his entourage were invited but failed to show. At the inauguration, the RSS’s marching band would have been on full display and probably could have been heard throughout Bajaj’s massive estate. Hundreds of people had gathered, with many local dignitaries present to inaugurate the forty-day camp. Gandhi observed from afar. He had obviously seen enough for his interest to be piqued. The very next day, Gandhi’s personal secretary, and lifelong follower, sent a note to Joshi. It read,
As your camp is close to the ashram, it has drawn the attention of Mahatmaji’s. He wishes to pay a visit to the camp, even though he is extremely busy. Please let us know what time would be convenient for you. It will be appreciated if you could come over to the ashram to fix the time.
There is much to glean from such notes. The man who had written it was Mahadev Desai. He was far more than Gandhi’s personal secretary; he was more of a chief of staff, everything happened through him. He was Gandhi’s loyal administrator who rose before his “master” daily and slept long after the aged man had fallen asleep. He knew everything that was to be known and tightly controlled who got to see Gandhi and, more importantly, who didn’t. He, in some way, was the gatekeeper to the most powerful man in India at the time. He diligently kept a daily diary between 1917 and his death in 1942, chronicling the life of Gandhi. Guha notes that it was Desai who acted as Gandhi’s “alter ego”, who would write down the words by which the world would remember his esteemed master.
Gandhi knew he was in the business of making history, and it was important for him to be remembered as his devotees saw him – as a mahatma. Maha can be translated as simply “great”, but the term atma requires rendering. A lazy translation is “soul”, but this would be a great disservice to the term and to what Gandhi had in mind for himself. The term atma etymologically comes from the Sanskrit term breath or essence. In other words, maha-atma means the great essence, which in Indian culture is akin to a divine being, often attributed to the devas of Hindu culture.
Gandhi had been sculpting his image for posterity right from the get-go, positioning himself as a saint, or enlightened being, more akin to a saviour who had arisen in the east, with a universal message of non-violence, which incidentally was a poor rendering of the Hindu conception of nonharming. Around the thirties, many men and their followers in India were trying to pass themselves off as “saviours from the east” – Besant’s Theosophical Society was grooming Krishnamurti; Mirra Alfassa, who was trying to build a cult around Aurobindo in Pondicherry and here we have Desai trying to do something similar around Gandhi. He was by far the most successful.
The invitation to Gandhi for the inauguration of the camp would have arrived on Desai’s desk. Did he ignore it? Did he advise Gandhi to not attend such a public gathering? Or was it that, as Gandhi would have us believe, he knew nothing about the camp and the RSS until it just so happened to be taking place at the same time as his arrival at his new ashram? History will not tell us the secret thoughts of men, but we can conjecture.
Joshi, the head man at the camp, did as requested, and immediately marched out to see Gandhi, where he was met by Desai. Desai was a tall man of medium build with a small moustache and thinning hair, who wore round spectacles, similar in style to his master. “Good-looking” and “well spoken”, he received Joshi’s note. The note read, “Whenever you can come to the camp, we shall be ready to welcome you.” Desai informed the enthusiastic Joshi, who had remained a Congress worker while also devoting much of his time to the Sangh, that Gandhi was maintaining silence and so would write you a note. A few moments later, Desai returned with a note claiming to be from the Mahatma stating, “Tomorrow the 25th, early morning at 0600 hours, I shall visit the camp. I can spend an hour and a half with you”. Joshi took leave and returned to the camp. He was probably feeling elated at the thought of Gandhi’s visit.
That night, preparations were made. Swayamsevaks, many of whom would have been thrilled at the thought of meeting Gandhi, the godman and international celebrity, practised well into the evening to demonstrate their martial skills; exhibitions were tidied up, and the grounds swept clean. At exactly six in the morning, Gandhi could be seen walking in his customary way, slightly hunched, with his walking stick and white robes, coming towards the camp. Behind him walked his familiar entourage – Desai walked a few feet behind with his customary diary in hand. To the right of him was an English lady by the name of Madeleine Slade, who liked to be called Mira-behn, which meant sister Mira. Gandhi had named her after the famous Mirabai, a household name across India, who was a sixteenth-century Hindu mystic and wrote mesmerizing poetry and devotional songs dedicated to Krishna. Slade was the daughter of an aristocratic English family. She had come to India after hearing about Gandhi in England, when a friend had described “Gandhi as another Christ and as the greatest figure of the twentieth century”. Like many European women looking for their Christ, Slade ventured forth. Then trailing the Mahatma’s disciples was Bajaj, who was the money man and power broker and who, in turn, led a small contingent of servants and clerks.
Joshi received the Congress leader at the arched entrance of the camp. They were all greeted, and a customary red tilak would have been smeared on their foreheads, and then they would have been led inside. The first place Gandhi would have been taken to is the Bhagwa Dhwaj, as is the RSS way, in the centre of the ground. Here, Gandhi, with the arranged RSS troops in line and uniform, saluted their Guru. Following the salute, Gandhi saw the Sangh’s marching band and 1500 uniformed young men march past in complete unison. It would have felt like a military parade to the bystanders. Even the music was taken directly from British military instruments. It is not clear how Gandhi and his devotees would have felt at seeing this kind of strength and organization, but one can imagine they would have been somewhat unnerved.
According to Palkar, “Mahatmaji placed his hand on Appaji’s shoulders and said, ‘I am extremely pleased. I have never seen a more impressive sight in the whole of the country.’” This line should be taken with a pinch of salt as it comes out of Palkar’s hagiography, but nevertheless, it does communicate somewhat how Gandhi may have felt having seen how the swayamsevaks lived. Gandhi visited the kitchens, breakfast areas and sleeping quarters, and he personally interacted with swayamsevaks, asking them all sorts of questions. He was surprised to find that most of the young men did not know the caste or class of men they were sitting next to, nor did they care, and said as much to Gandhi, who, according to Sinha, would have been charmed by the occasion. Men from all strata of society lived, ate and trained together. RSS camps are still executed with the same Hedgewarian spirit of equality and brotherhood. Gandhi also noted that there were no images of deities; the usual pantheon of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses was visibly absent. The only imagery that he found was an image of India personified as a mother goddess – an image that still pervades the Sangh world.
Excerpted with permission from Hedgewar: A Definitive Biography, Sachin Nandha, Penguin India.
