Chapter Nine, Section I.
We had had enough of all this constant struggling to save the lives of other people. If we were to save our own lives, we needed rest, for we both were worn out. If you readers can detect in this saga, any element of the miraculous, perhaps the miracle is that we actually did survive to tell the story.
Although the British Gospel Mission had so few resources to operate their three fields in Thailand, India and Africa, they were most generous when it came to our first furlough, enabling us to travel East-West right round the world. However, before we could set sail, we had to make one more journey to Mussoorie to fetch our three boys from boarding school. They would be flown to Australia by Ruth's mother and cared for by her while we met with supporting churches and interested groups in Britain, USA, Canada, New Zealand and Australia.
Police Daroga Faridamiya, however, had other designs. He was not finished with us yet and seemed to be determined to make his point felt by preventing us leaving the country. He just had to "prove", somehow, that I had really caused "Apprehension of Breach of Peace" under Indian Penal Codes 144 & 145. Soon after we left Bhavnagar for our eight hundred mile journey to the Himalayas, the Daroga called all the people of the village together. When the police call in this way, all have to attend; at least one responsible member of each family in the village must be present.
Faridamiya waxed most eloquent in his concern for the security of the village as though it were under threat from bandits. "It is of the utmost importance," he exhorted, in a public meeting held in the Bhavnagar bazaar, "that we save this village from grave danger. It is vital that a continual twenty-four hour vigil be mounted against the menacing force that threatens to destroy all your families and homes." We don't know if the village people really were aware, at the time, of the reason behind the macabre behaviour of this eccentric police officer, but they certainly responded in a way he least expected. Facts pertaining to this affair were later collated from various eyewitness sources in order to get an accurate account of what really happened in our absence and when our village was "under threat"!
"Now I don't want a single one of you to try to avoid your civic responsibility in this matter," said Daroga Faridamiya.
"We are all in it together; every male adult in the village must share in guard and patrol duty. Right, I want you all to give your names, one by one, and we'll draw up a roster. Yes, Lohar Mistri (blacksmith) - why have you got your hand up? Do you want me to put your name at the top of the list?"
"No, sir. My proposal is that the Skillicorn Sahib's name be put at the top of the list because he is the big man in the village." I have a feeling that the Lohar Mistri had an inkling of what skulduggery the police officer was up to.
"Why, that's ridiculous," replied the Daroga, "he's a foreigner."
"No, he's not," replied the Smithy, "he's one of us. He knows our language well and loves our culture. His name should go down first."
An impasse was reached and for a while, there was complete silence followed by spontaneous outbursts of uproarious laughter when the Daroga blurted out, "But it's from the Skillicorn Sahib's terror that we have to save the village." The Daroga had completely lost face and made an utter fool of himself. His pride was bitterly hurt and the public feared they might have to suffer the repercussions. The meeting broke up without the required official dismissal, further rubbing salt into the wounds of this beaten man.
The Lohar Mistri was to pay for his "insulting behaviour". No police officer ever 'would tolerate such humiliation from a mere blacksmith.
Lohar Mistri's friendship with us resulted in his bitter persecution so, taking full advantage of his good reputation in the area, he pretended to leave for another district.
"Where are you heading for, Mistriji?” members of the public asked.
"I've had this place, or rather the officials who keep on pushing us around; I can't stand it any longer, so I'm moving to another district." One crowd after another met and exchanged the big news of the day - "Lohar Mistri is pulling out. It's a crying shame. It should not be allowed. How shall we manage as a community without a blacksmith? And soon they'll be charging us all with building on agricultural land."
Lohar Mistri must have met with about six groups, each time dropping his baggage, expressing his grievances, gathering up his things and moving on a few more yards. All this display was having the required effect. Gradually, the concerned groups merged into one large agitated mass, fermenting with contempt for the big police bully who was harassing one of the area's most esteemed citizens. In the bazaar that Saturday afternoon, the atmosphere was electric and there was real apprehension of breach of peace!
On each large market day, police always were present in case of any possible disturbance. On this occasion, they were quick to pass on word to the Daroga they themselves hated, that there was real fear of a violent outbreak in protest against the injustice shown towards the village smithy. Infuriated crowds in India can sometimes go berserk for much less reason, so no time was wasted by the Daroga to achieve reconciliation.
One of the main ways of harassing Lohar Mistri, was to prevent him completing the construction of his new house, by withholding building permits. With all the mud walls completed, Mistriji faced utter ruin with no roofing timbers available and the monsoon fast approaching. If the blacksmith were to lose his house in the first deluge, Daroga Faridamiya would be faced with a possible riot on the part of an infuriated public.
After hasty consultation with the other officials concerned, the Daroga dispatched three constables to intercept the Mistri on the outskirts of the village. The smithy was informed that there had been a "misunderstanding" and that all building permits had been granted!
Mistriji was held in very high esteem in the whole area, mainly because of his moral integrity, manifested in honest business dealings and concern for any member of the community who was hurting.
Although Lohar Mistri remained a Hindu, he always was ready to speak a little word for Jesus, especially where Truth and Justice were involved. He was the first Hindu in the village to purchase a New Testament from me and I feel sure that it was the influence of the Gospel that made this simple smithy and very close friend of mine such a loving and caring person as well as one of considerable courage.
One other incident took place in relation to the persecutions that makes the Lohar Mistri memorable, but I'll leave it to Ruth to tell that story.
Chapter Nine, Section ***II
One of the most tragic experiences during our first term on the field was to suffer the loss of our Bhavnagar church building, which also served as a mission school. By rather surreptitious means, it had been taken over illegally by an anti-Christian group, which, each year, invoked the blessing of Sarswati, the Hindu goddess of light and knowledge.
This "Puja" or veneration was performed in a most ostentatious, provocative and blatantly arrogant manner designed to create ill feeling between the two communities. It was at such times that we were driven to prayer, seeking the Lord's help that hate might not well up in our hearts. Our ministry was to love those who would hurt us and to render good for evil.
Our Hindu opponents, all brought in from outside the village by the local influential land-lords, money-lenders and drink-shop people, had with them an idol-maker who most dexterously fashioned the Sarswati from sticks, straw and mud. Paint was applied, along with hair and clothes, and these clever craftsmen would often vie with each other to produce the most lifelike deities. Some very much resembled the screen beauties popular with India's millions of cinemagoers.
The rowdy "Puja" devotees, made all the more boisterous through alcohol, shouted whoops of triumph as the deity was carried into our former house of Christian worship. She was given all the regular obeisance, presented with sweetmeats and flowers and then prepared for her ceremonial procession, to be carried shoulder high to the river for her immersion at sunset.
The journey back from the river would be after dark, necessitating the use of kerosene pressure lamps, but none of the lamps would work.
One of the tenets of the Hindu faith, as practiced by the upper crust of society in our area, was that there is no dignity in manual work. I believe that this is one of the reasons why India has failed to keep pace with other more industrialized nations. Within a Hindu society, those who have the mental aptitude to design labour-saving devices are not those who would make or maintain them. They may not even see the need for them.
A Hindu male may say to his wife, "Bring me food." It is not for him to worry about how that food is prepared and with what inconvenience to his wife who has to slave over a smoky stove without a chimney of any sort. Such concern is not in his department; his business is to eat the food when he needs food!
Those with enough brains to design, make and operate a pressure lamp are not those who would service it. The high- caste Hindus could never stoop to such a menial task as cleaning lamps. This would be below their dignity. For this reason, kerosene pressure lamps were always breaking down.
On this occasion, it was the Lohar Mistri who had to be called. He took the lamps home but was unable to remove the vaporizers for lack of a suitable spanner. As was often the case, when he needed help, he went to Keith who found much dirt in the tanks, the filters clogged and vaporizer jets carboned up. Such pressure lamps and other modern inventions were coming to be seen more and more in the remote villages and it would not be long before the village smithy would be called upon to repair lamps. Keith thought this would be a good opportunity to give the Lohar Mistri some tuition in doing so, and the smithy soaked up all he was taught.
With the lamp burning brightly, he proceeded to the place of Sarswati worship just as the priest was arranging for the idol to be carried to the river. Calling the crowd to attention, he shouted, "Do you see this light? Do you know where it comes from? Look how brightly it burns; see how the light shines on everything round about. It is all because of the Sahib. I could not fix it, even though I am a Hindu, but the Sahib fixed it."
"Why should he help you when you are doing all this just to hurt him? You say this idol brings light. Why, she couldn't even fix a lamp. It is the Sahib's God Jesus who brings the Real Light!"
Courageously pointing to the priest, the Lohar Mistri said, "And what about Punditji? You have brought him here to breathe life into this idol. How can that be possible when he has no life in himself? You say that this idol is the goddess of knowledge, but what do you do with the little knowledge you do have? You priests keep it all to yourselves, and you high-caste people only teach us little people what you think we ought to know. In this way, you keep us in perpetual slavery."
Although he remained a Hindu, Lohar Mistri had to pay for his courage and his faith - a faith borne out of a real love for Jesus.
As we were preparing to leave for Bombay and London, a number of Daulatapur and Mandya officials, feeling rather embarrassed and ashamed over the way we had been treated, openly apologized on behalf of their nation. One magistrate, in particular, remarked, "Please don't feel too badly about them (the guilty petty officials) Sahib; they were only trying to tease you!".
Well, it was a strange way of teasing us and to keep up such behaviour relentlessly, for over five years. But, as with everything in the life of the believer, all things work together for good. For those who put their trust in Jesus and apply his principles to all of life's situations, nothing can have an adverse effect.
So long as hate is met with love, violence with compassion and evil with good, we are assured of the happiness and peace that surpasses all understanding. It was nothing less than a miracle that we, our British colleagues and many of our Indian brethren and sisters, endured those years of bitter trial and came though it all in our right minds.
The sea voyage to Britain was a most refreshing
experience. Our ship, the "Strathmore", was the first large passenger
liner to pass through the Suez Canal, following its take-over by Egypt's
Colonel Nasser. For the first time in seven years, we were privileged to meet
the British Home
Six months of extensive travel took us thousands of miles all over England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland as well as Eire. While in Britain, friendships were forged which have lasted to this day. The type of life a missionary lives for many years in remote, primitive situations, demands close and intimate relationships. Following a missionary refresher course at the Selly Oak Colleges, Birmingham, we set sail for New York, in the "Queen Mary". There, began a hectic month’s itinerary by rail, plane and bus from the east coast to the west, meeting those US churches that had supported us. The schedule covered New York State, Indiana, Ohio, Texas, Arizona, California, Canada, Mexico, with Hawaiian and New Zealand stopovers on the way to Australia.
It was while we were on furlough that one of the Daulatapur officials sent us word of the repercussions that followed the cessation of all the harassment and my full acquittal of all criminal charges.
"You have no idea of the work you caused us over the litigation", he informed. "Do you realize that Prime Minister Nehru ordered a 'Priority One' investigation of all your cases that were handled by our court? He asked for copies of all the files, so we had to spend many days and long nights over weeks of time, consuming reams and reams of paper to cover those four years of litigation of all your fifteen cases"
I can well appreciate the extra work we caused them, for in those days, the courts in our area had neither typewriters nor duplicators. All the documents had to be copied by hand - a most laborious job which often kept the clerks working long hours into the night. To make matters worse, with no electricity in the town at that time, the low-grade Russian kerosene kept clogging up the pressure lamps with carbon!.
We also received the report that the officials responsible for the fabrication of legal charges against us were severely disciplined. Daroga Faridamiya was demoted to the rank of "Literate Constable". We never quite understood just how Prime Minister Nehru came to take personal action to have the persecution stopped and the cases thrown out of the courts. It could have been due to reports sent to him by his very close friends, Lord Mountbatten, Lord Casey or perhaps General Kariappa. Most likely, it was Rajkumari Amrit Kaur, who was regarded as Nehru's Chief Adviser in the Cabinet.
We believe that the main purpose of the court cases was to drive out the foreign missionaries, but the program of opposition had failed. Although it had been so difficult for us on a village level to achieve justice for the people, we cannot speak too highly of India's Constitution and legal system, when once you get to the top. We have the utmost respect for the Government of India in the way that, eventually, truth was made to triumph.
A full year's furlough, including that round-the-world travel was meant to be a most refreshing experience but the sojourn in our home country was one of very mixed feelings -joy and sorrow.
When we were about to leave Melbourne to return to India, our eldest son, Robert, expressed his desire to opt out.
He had no wish to return to India, to the land, which had embittered him. We could see his point of view, which he expressed in no uncertain terms. "My father only did good to people but what did they do to him? They put him in jail." These words stand out in our memories, revealing that Robert was just too young to understand the rationale of the Cross in Christian ministry.
He had seen so much of human exploitation and injustice, so much of blatant social inequities, which a deep scar had been left on his mind. There had been times in India when our very lives had been threatened by those right-wing fanatics, who sought to grow fat on the underdog. The trauma of being involved in such bitter persecution was more than our young son could endure. All we could do was to commit him to the Lord and hope and pray that He would direct his ways.
Eventually, our prayers for Robert were to be answered, but only after many years of bitter heart- ache. Robert remained in Australia to take his high-school education, following which he gained a scholarship to Hull University, England. After marrying a fellow-graduate, Susan, he felt a call to serve in the trade union movement in Wales, where he became a top official in the Union Movement.
It was while in that responsible service that, at the early age of only thirty-nine years, he died, having worn himself out in concern for Welsh workers who were at the mercy of obdurate and rapacious industrialists.
In retrospect, our sorrow in losing Robert, helped to condition us for the next phase of ministry, but I shall leave it to Keith to introduce that subject - LEPROSY.