A struggle on a stagecoach

June 2, 2024

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 on the border between the British-controlled province of Natal and the Boer-controlled Transvaal. (Two decades later, another border crossing here would trigger the end of his time in South Africa.)

The most commonly used stagecoach of the era was the “Concord Coach.”

The next leg of his journey would be by stagecoach. Leaving the British territory brought new opportunity for hardship. The stagecoach conductor was a large Dutchman, who disapproved 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 was it 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, I imagine 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, leaving the young man no choice but to sit stoically as the hours passed. Fortunately, a group of Indians was there to greet him at their destination. His client 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, and 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 promised a seat inside the morning coach.

Have you objected to a public injustice occurring in front of you?