01/10/2026
Gandhi was thrown off a train at Pietermaritzburg in 1893 for not being white, with a valid first-class ticket in his hand. It’s the story everyone knows. The part we skip is that for years afterwards, in his writings in South Africa, he used racist language about Black Africans and argued Indians shouldn’t be classed with them. He was fighting one hierarchy while accepting parts of another.
Then came a second train. In 1904, boarding at Johannesburg for the twenty-four hour journey to Durban, his friend Henry P***k handed him John Ruskin’s Unto This Last. Gandhi read it on the way and couldn’t sleep that night. He called the chapter about it, in his autobiography, “The magic spell of a book.”
One of the things it told him was that a lawyer’s work is worth no more than a barber’s. He didn’t only agree with it. He moved Indian Opinion to a hundred-acre farm outside Durban, where everyone did the same work and drew the same monthly allowance of £3, in his own words “irrespective of colour or nationality.”
A book didn’t make Gandhi perfect. It made him question himself. Changing your mind is harder than being right the first time.
Happy Gandhi Jayanti.