Gandhi the Man: How One Man Changed Himself to Change the World

There comes along, however rarely it may seem, someone so in tune with their humanity that it makes us realize the potential inherent in our very selves, “central to our very being”, if only we would strive to realize it. Gandhi was one of these very people. So attuned with what it means to be human, what it means to live, his was a life so full of love and meaning that it, even today, so many years after its end, leaves us inspired and awed, and this book is a beautiful reflection of that life and the meaning behind it.

As beautifully written as it is illustrated, this book, while a quick and easy read, is one that leaves a deep and lasting impression. Told by someone who actually lived in what he calls “Gandhi’s India”, the show more author shows us Gandhi, the man, and makes us realize that the meaning Gandhi found in his own life, the meaning that drove him to become the great man whose name has been taught and honored around the world, is a meaning we can all apply to our own lives and work towards. It is something that is possible for us all.

In the forward of this book, Asha Devi is quoted, when asked what the dominant impression Gandhi made on her, as revealing the “secret” of this great man as “his great love”, and through this book we are shown that great love, the dedication Gandhi had to it, and how possible it could be for us to strive to live lives of great love as well.

By revealing to us how Gandhi the man became Gandhi the great man, by showing us where Gandhi started and allowing us to see the more “human” side of someone who seems to so many to be above our level of humanity, it shows us that we all start somewhere, and the potential within us is all the same. Gandhi is quoted, more than once, saying “I have not the shadow of a doubt that any man or woman can achieve what I have, if he or she would make the same effort and cultivate the same hope and faith”.

Indeed, the point of this book seems less about being a point by point historical account of Gandhi’s life (though it does certainly reveal his life to us and leads us to an even deeper love and appreciation of him and the life he led), and more about revealing to us the meaning he applied to it, and helping us understand that we, too, can apply this meaning to our lives, if only we were to try. It is a deeply inspirational and moving book that is as essential as the art of life it has to reveal within its pages. A must read, and a wonderful addition to any collection. I’m certainly glad to have been able to add it to mine! :) show less

This is an excellent introduction to Gandhi by a man uniquely qualified to interpret his achievements to a new audience. Easwaran attempts to explain what made Gandhi such a towering figure human history, and for the most part he succeeds. Taking both an historical and psychological/spiritual approach, Easwaran demonstrates that it is only by addressing the most basic and fundamental struggles of human existence with honesty and integrity that one can achieve greatness. Gandhi's legacy is perhaps more relevant and universal today in that he wrestled with the two most pressing problems facing the human race: conflict and consumerism. Easwaran guides the reader through Gandhi's personal development and the practical implications of his show more evolving understanding, both personal and political. While pointing out the simplicity of Gandhi's discoveries, one is never left with the impression that Gandhi was a naive or simplistic man. In fact, Easwaran implicitly challenges his readers to undertake the same simple, yet demanding path that Gandhi proved to be within the reach of all who were willing.

The pictures and quotes that are scattered judiciously throughout the book make it a joy to read. While the timeline provided toward the end of the book is helpful, it suffers from a faulty design that makes reading it more difficult that it should be. In all, Nilgiri Press should be commended for releasing this new edition. show less

A truly inspirational read that takes a look at Gandhi as a person; from an intelligent, well-educated young man to an international icon of nonviolence. He will live on as an inspiration because he showed the world that force and violence aren't the only tools capable of affecting change.

His seemingly unshakeable faith and unbreakable resolve in the humanity of all people forces us to look within ourselves to question whether we really are as isolated as individuals as we were always brought up to believe.

I can't say that I'm an expert on Gandhi as this is the only book I have ever read about him. What I can say is, I'm glad that I had the chance to read this and see a glimpse of what his ideals represent in the context of his personal show more life and upbringing before being subjected to the genericised version of his ideology that I'd expect to find in a college setting.

Even though is has been years since I originally read this book (and I read it cover to cover many times), I keep it around to remind me that; through all the hatred, violence, bigotry, selfishness, and general dismay that can be found in modern society, every single individual on this planet is capable of compassion or empathy on some level. That tiny grain of resolve may pale in comparison to Gandhi's but it's a good enough reason for me to step back from the present and see people as they are not as they'd like to be seen; as people trying to do everything within their power to be better, not as alpha, omega, dominant, influential, selfless, leaders, followers, just, righteous, powerful, or any of the other personas that we all endlessly strive to shoehorn our personalities into. show less

When I was growing up, a boy in the backwoods of Tennessee, USA, Gandhi was a Name in the News. As a youngster I never knew for sure about Mohandas and Mahatma – which was his name and which his title. And then, long before I was grown, he became an Icon. Emblazoned on the mind of the world: a skinny little man, dark, wrinkled but sturdy, bright eyes, bald, barefoot, clad only in a dhoti (loincloth) and perhaps a shawl, made of khadi, a cloth he had spun himself. Along with Einstein and Freud, Gandhi embodied twentieth-century reality: Einstein gave us a new vision of matter, a whole new physical reality; Freud gave us a new vision of mind, a whole new psychological reality; and Gandhi gave us our soul, a lasting vision of the human show more spirit. As Legend and Lore, as martyred saint, he inspired us and uplifted us. We saw – and heard – him reincarnated in the body and voice of Martin Luther King, in the US uprising called the Civil Rights Movement. He rode our buses with us, sat in our lunchrooms, marched into Selma, raised his arms in front of thousands, declaiming, “We have a dream . . . .” As if at his funeral pyre once again, we sang, “We shall overcome, we shall overcome some day. Deep in my heart I do believe we shall overcome some day.”

Years later, a father now, a teacher, a mature professional, overworked and under stress, I found a paperback book with the bespectacled icon on the cover: Freedom at Midnight by Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierren, (Avon 1976, c1975), nearly six hundred pages of tiny print, a gripping story of the first year of Indian/Pakistani independence and the last year of Gandhi’s life on earth. He rose above the melee, a towering Hero. I felt, at last, that I knew him as a mortal man. It was as if we all could tell the time of day with the $1 pocket watch that swung from his handmade dhoti. I had revered him, a god among men; now I could love him, admire him, be touched by him. The Mahatma, born Mohandas K., was forever and always simply Gandhi.

So when I found a fresh, new copy of Gandhi the Man by Eknath Easwaran (Nilgiri Press, 2011, 4th ed) in my mailbox yesterday, I was pleased. It doesn’t seem fair to begin a review of a book of such spiritual dimensions by describing it as an artifact. But I’m one who loves the feel of a good book in my hands, whose eyes need to see it as a work of art in its shape and form and texture, whose vision is nourished by its design – the typography, the white space, the surface of the paper, the strength and elegance of its cover and binding, the thoughtful use and placement of illustrations, the tasteful, discreet use of color and/or other flourishes. When I sat in the breezy sunlight of our front porch and opened the package, instantly I knew that this book had a rightness to it. The book as artifact, indeed, exhibited a presence worthy of its text and its message.

Actually, the book is three books in one. First, it is a gallery of photographs, selected for an exhibition at the University of California, Berkeley, in 1969, honoring the centenary of Gandhi’s birth. For this current edition of the book, the photos have been digitally enhanced so that it’s as if one is walking among life-size images of the master himself, in black and white, of course, walking, sitting, smiling, meditating, suffering, in intimate conversation with family and friends, before thronging multitudes, with distinguished leaders, with clamoring “untouchables.” It’s those eyes, bright, shining, perceptive, penetrating – from childhood on, even in his years as a young British dandy, as an awkward attorney on the brink of failure, and in the years of his historic leadership, as the center of news, at the peak of distinction, it’s those dark, skinny legs and the white dhoti and shawl, and that penetrating gaze. Even without the simple captions in small, inconspicuous print accompanying each photograph, as helpful as they are, the gallery alone speaks volumes. Here is the man – the young man, shy and charming, the man he became, the elderly man, wise and sturdy.

Second, the book is a collection of quotations from Gandhi’s own writings, printed in italic and placed quite appropriately within the text, close to the photographs. I understand that they are quotations that were used in the centenary exhibit. Whatever, they are like scriptures scattered among the pages, representing the Mahatma’s ideas and ideals, clarifying the nature and depth of his influence. And once again, I must pay tribute to the design. Such quotations are usually set aside – in sidebars or shadowed boxes, in smaller print, indented or separated from the body of the text. Not so in this edition. The design makes clear that the words of the master are highlights, not to be missed. The quotation marks, printed in a subtle brown, larger than the type, provide the only touch of color on most pages. The body of the text is indented, not the quotations, and the quotations are placed within the text so that one is reading one and then the other with no sense of interruption or discontinuity. The quotations illustrate the ideas being developed in the text, just as the photographs keep the man at the center of our vision and bring his image to life with his words. It’s as if one actually hears his voice, echoing across the years, the space, the barriers of language and circumstances, the bar of death itself. White space used judiciously around the quotations and within the text encourages calm thoughtfulness. Let me give just one example. On p. 114, a single quotation stands alone on pure white paper:

“Strength of numbers is the delight of the timid.
The valiant in spirit glory in fighting alone.”

On the opposite page is a full-page photograph of Gandhi walking alone, along a rough path in the country, his bald pate, his skinny legs, his white dhoti and shawl, a long white walking pole, his feet in simple sandals, his head bowed as if he might be reciting his mantra, “Rama, Rama.” These two pages are placed in the text between two paragraphs: the one on the preceding page says, “Though in his seventies he went straight to the heart of the violence and walked barefoot through the remote ravaged villages of Bihar state and Noakhali as a one-man force for peace, dependent even for his food on the mercy of his enemies.” The following page adds, “He walked, worked, wrote, and spoke sixteen to twenty hours a day. Everywhere he went, by his personal example, he dissolved barriers erected by religious customs, superstition, and mistrust.”

Third, the book is the biography, actually a hagiography, based on personal memory, written by Eknath Easwaran. In my eagerness to respond, I am writing this review too soon. For Easwaran’s work requires (and will reward) rereading and rereading again. It’s packed. So my comments henceforth are tentative first impressions. However, I must say immediately that, as dense as the text may be, it reads quickly and easily. Among the lofty truths, just as one is about to say, “Hold on a minute, I need to go back and get this straight in my mind” – just at this point, the author will provide an illuminating anecdote, a little story or a specific example, that steadies us and keeps us striding confidently along, not trudging or plodding, but maintaining an even pace.

For instance, on p. 116, just following the packed sentences I quoted, there is the story, recounted in just five sentences, of a fierce agitator who attempts to choke the life out of Gandhi, but instead is overwhelmed by the Mahatma’s courage and sense of love and falls sobbing at his feet. The anecdote concludes, in the fifth simple sentence, “For those who watched, it seemed a miracle.” The text proceeds matter-of-factly that Gandhi had grown used to such “miracles,” and then moves into a profound quotation from Buddha: “Hatred does not cease by hatred at any time; hatred ceases by love. This is an unalterable law.” The very next page has a photograph of Gandhi and company crossing a very rickety-looking bridge “after communal rioting” in Bengal, with two quotations standing out against white space. The second one contends, “Devotion is not mere lip-worship, it is wrestling with death.”

This example is not unusual, but in fact is one that I chose quite randomly, simply by letting the book fall open itself and using what I found there. It is a fairly typical set of passages, showing the careful design of the book, managing the interconnections among text, photographs, and quotations as a composer manages the strings, winds, and percussion instruments in an orchestra.

Now, to be quite candid, if I had chanced upon Easwaran’s text without the photographs and Gandhi quotations, I am not sure whether I would have understood it as well or be eager to reread it. Because it deals with the master’s lofty ideals, it tends to soar off into an etherium on occasion. In defining terms like satyagraha and ahimsa, the author relies largely on abstractions and generalizations. There are not many detailed explanations; the concrete examples are anecdotal, few and brief. Because I was expecting a biography, I kept longing for more biographical detail. I wonder, for example, whether Easwaran was influenced in the development of his “passage meditation” by Gandhi’s practice (for example, his meditation on the second chapter of the Bhagvad-Gota, or did he find in the Mahatma sterling confirmation of the exercise he was already practicing? I guess what I’m saying is that I needed more: I kept wishing for my own one-on-one conversation with the writer. But what I also need to say is that Easwaran’s writing itself is spiritual and poetic, and demands intensive reflection – over and over again, I suspect.

Let me quickly add, however, that two sections of the book, chapters 1 and 4, provide information that had escaped me in all my years of reading about Gandhi, and there’s another insight into his life and nature that is scattered throughout the book that I had genuinely longed for.

In the first chapter, I began to see clearly, for the first time, the young Mohandas Gandhi: the shy boy, the mediocre student, the thirteen-year-old bridegroom, the would-be British dandy, the cultish vegetarian, the ineffectual attorney, the beneficiary’s of family funds and influence, the domineering husband and autocratic father, and at last the “transformation” during his sojourn in South Africa. Though it may seem a minor detail, I had never realized what a handsome young British gentleman he was (as seen, for example in full-page portraits – in stiffly starched collars and dignified neckties – on pp. 37, 41, and 50).

But the highlight of the book for me was Chapter 4, also entitled “Gandhi the Man.” Here we see him, as I never had before, warm, good-humored, comfortable, laughing, joking, snuggling childen, interacting with friends and family. Once gain, the photographs are absolutely crucial. “You must watch my life,” Gandhi insisted, “how I live, eat, sit, talk, behave in general. The sum total of all those in me is my religion.” But books about Gandhi rarely achieve that image. Easwaran does. Here is just one – to me very moving – example.

"Meals in the ashram [family/community] had the intimacy of a family sacrament. Gandhi knew that even the most wholesome meal needs to be cooked and eaten with love, and he kept those around him in the best of spirits with just the right touch of jokes and friendly questions. He talked very little, but to everything worthy of interest he gave his complete concentration. Even in such little matters he was teaching his family by personal example to keep all the attention on the work at hand . . . . " (p163)

Finally, I had always wondered about his relationship with his wife Katsurbai. I knew that there were tensions in the marriage from time to time, and I was under the impression that he was neglectful of her and, perhaps, a bit dismissive of the woman’s role in his community. Not so. Scattered throughout this text are passages that pay tribute to Katsurbai and show the Mahatma’s devotion to her. In the last chapter is a passage that corrects the false impression I had fallen into and shows, indeed, the very critical role Katsurbai played in Mohandas’ “transformation”:

"It was his wife, Gandhi admitted later, who taught him how to love. By her personal example, Kasturbai showed the way to root out the anger and competition eroding their marriage: not by retaliating and inflaming the situation more, but by constantly trying to support him and bear with him through his outbursts and mistakes, keeping her eyes always on what was good in him and encouraging him silently to live up to her respect. Gradually Gandhi began to see that she was practicing every day what he himself had been admiring as a theoretical ideal. He took up her example, and each became the other’s teacher . . . ." (p159)

The portraits show her as a young maiden (p28), as a serious, mature, assertive woman, dressed and posed regally in 1915 (p48), and, finally, in her seventies, calm, content, pleasant, dignified, seated on the floor spinning (p151). In 1944 they were in prison together when she died, with her head in his lap. I suspect that were always together, that close, even when circumstances and distance kept them apart. “If nonviolence is the law of our being,” Gandhi said – and he certainly believed it was – then “the future is with woman.” Many of his followers were women, and he welcomed them into his household. Easwaran summarizes this aspect of his nature: “He took them all into his family, and because he had learned to extend his love for Katsurbai and their children to everyone else as well, there always seemed to be room for one more. The whole world was his family.” (p160)

So get hold of this book. Enjoy holding it in your hands. Press it against your chest. Read it through once hurriedly and eagerly if you just, as I did. But then reread slowly, deliberately, reflectively. Dip into every now and then. Let it speak to you. Let it imprint its images on your mind. Eager as I was, I began reading with what I thought was the beginning (p25, “The Transformation”). Later I had the pleasure of reading what the table of contents calls an introduction, “Gandhi: Then and Now,” actually a personal account of Easwaran’s acquaintance with him. Only then did I allow myself to read the brief foreword by Michael Nagler, a man of my own generation, an advocate of non-violence who was first exposed to Gandhi (as I was) on the pages of Life magazine but who later discovered the real man through Easwaran.

I haven’t even mentioned – and praised, as I should have – the chronology, maps, and notes appended to the text, nor the Afterword, a detailed essay on “How Nonviolence Works,” by Timothy Flinders, nor the selective but promising bibliography.

The book is like a little treasure chest. You keep opening up compartments and finding more little surprises. But I would encourage you to do just what I did. Sit down immediately, when you get your hands on the book, and begin reading on p25 with “The Transformation.” Huston Smith, the great writer and scholar of the world’s religions, has been quoted as saying, “This book belongs in every public library in the English-speaking world.” I was a teacher and teacher-educator for forty-five years. What I would add is that this book should be required reading for every high-school student and every college graduate.

In the quotation with which the text closes, we hear Gandhi’s modest but confident assertion: “I have not the shadow of a doubt that any man or woman can achieve what I have, if he or she would make the same effort and cultivate the same hope and faith.” I must respond with one of my all-time favorite prayers, “I believe; help thou mine unbelief.” Amen show less

It is strange to read a book like this. It is not so much a biography as it is a spiritual explanation of a man who is so very familiar to history and yet is so different from others. It contains beautiful photos and is physically a very beautiful book. It is a reissue of a book written by an Indian spiritualist several decades ago.

I say it felt strange to read this book because it was like deja vu. I felt I already knew the person who was the subject of the book. His ideas are powerful, but they are not complicated. In fact, it's really their simplicity that makes them so powerful. The one thing I wonder about when I read a book like this is, why are there not more people out there who are like Gandhi? And perhaps the answer is, most show more of us are just too complicated. It's very difficult to realize and live by the idea that life is actually very simple, that we are just put on this earth to love God and each other.

The book is a treasure, with its photos, insets, timelines and creamy thick paper. It makes me smile through tears to read about the things Gandhi said - which were often very funny. His wit is all the more funny because it is not cruel. It contains love within it, love and a sort of wry appreciation of human error and potential.

I recommend the book and recommend that it not just sit elegantly on a shelf or a coffee table but that it be read. show less

I came to this book rather sheepishly knowing, in only the most general ways, about Gandhi. Of course, I've read quotations. I've heard him referenced. But I had never taken the time to explore further.

This was a wonderful introduction. An easy read. Lots of pictures. And in fact, it's really three books: the first is an admiring portrait by Eknath Easwaran. He brilliantly ties the biographical to the Bhagavad Gita--of which he is a leading translator and interpreter. Part two is a timeline of Gandhi's life and the world politics that help frame his work in a historical context. In some ways, I wish I had read this section first.

The final section is an essay that delves more deeply into the principles that were at the core of Gandhi's show more life--those we interpret as non-violence (ahimsa and satyagraha). Taking these techniques into daily life at home and work again further enlightens the reader.

I'm still left with questions about how this little, rather unsuccessful, man transformed into one of the most reknowned and beloved figures in recent history. I look around my life and try to imagine how it would work today vs a century ago.

So the book was successful. It made me reflective. Perhaps a bit more tolerant. And curious. I want to know more. I'm eager to share this book with friends and hope that it starts a great dialog. show less

In its simplicity, this book is profound. Commemorating an exhibit of photos and quotes, and interspersed with commentary by Eknath Easwaran, this brief collection goes straight to the heart of Gandhi's philosophy and shocks the Western reader with the enormity of his vision, perseverance and success. Gandhi's observation of the limits of violence as a tool for social change, as well contemplation of the lessons in the Bhagavad Gita, led him to renounce personal gain and devote his life to the poor and oppressed, by living their life and by applying non-violence to every corner of his life, thought and action, whether in political, social or private matters. His belief in the power of refusal to submit to unfair laws, coupled with a show more willingness to suffer the consequences without anger or violence, broke the governments of South Africa and colonial India. He and his followers simply wore them out.

Easwaran was a beloved teacher of passage meditation, as well as an interpreter of Indian writings. His organization, Blue Mountain Center of Meditation in California, continues to publish his books under the Nilgiri Press imprint. This is the 4th edition of "Gandhi the Man", and includes essays on Ahimsa and Satyagraha, a detailed chronology, maps, many photos, an index, and a bibliography and reading list.

Very highly recommended to anyone with an interest in Gandhi, India, British South Africa, passive resistance, Hinduism, or meditation. I will go back to it many times, even just to browse the quotes, which are fodder for years of contemplation. What a gift this book has been. show less