A struggle on a stagecoach

June 2, 2023

On Friday, June 2, 1893, Gandhi woke up aboard a northbound train in a first-class compartment, halfway through his 500-mile journey to Pretoria, where he expected to work for the next year representing his client’s interests in a lawsuit. The rail line ended in Charlestown, on the border between the British-controlled province of Natal and the Boer-controlled Transvaal.

The next leg of his journey would be by stagecoach. Leaving the British territory brought new opportunity for hardship. The “leader” of the stagecoach was a large Dutchman, and he was not enamored with the idea of the “coolie barrister” riding with the other passengers. The Dutchman claimed Gandhi’s place inside the coach, and directed him to take a seat up top next to the driver.

In the afternoon, the warm sun inspired the Dutchman to reclaim his usual seat in the fresh air. At one of the stops, he spread out a dirty rag on the footboard and directed Gandhi to sit there instead. Trembling, Gandhi refused. “Now that you want to sit outside and smoke, you would have me sit at your feet. I will not do so, but I am prepared to sit inside.”

He had hardly finished the sentences when the attack came. Cursing and boxing Gandhi’s ears, the Dutchman tried to rip him violently down from the stagecoach. Gandhi grabbed the brass rails of the coachbox and hung on, declining to fight back. Was this the principled nonviolence he would later advocate or cowardice? Gandhi hints at an answer in his autobiography: “He was strong and I was weak.”

Whatever Gandhi’s motivation, his passivity brought a resolution. “Stop, leave him alone,” the other passengers cried. The beating stopped first, then the profanity tapered off. Biographer Jad Adams observes that Gandhi learned a valuable lesson – public injustice can draw protests from those otherwise disinterested.

As the coach rattled along, we can picture the stocky Dutchman talking jocularly with the driver, as though Gandhi wasn’t a few feet away, describing what a beating he would give the “coolie barrister” when they stopped for the night. Gandhi had no choice but to sit stoically as the hours passed. Fortunately, when the stagecoach pulled into the village of Standerton, a group of Indians was there to greet him. His employer, Dada Abdulla, had sent word ahead, and Gandhi was escorted safely away.

Before he would rest for the night, Gandhi wrote out a letter to the stagecoach company’s local agent. Drawing on his experience preparing court briefs, Gandhi described the insults, assault, and standing threat he had received as a passenger with a valid ticket. He requested an assurance that he would be able to continue his journey peacefully. Much to his relief, the prompt reply informed him the Dutchman would not be present when the trip continued, and a seat inside the morning coach with the other passengers was promised to him.

Would you object if a public injustice occurred in front of you?