ocable withdrawal. I am essentially a man of compromise because I am never sure that I am right. But now it is the unbending future in me that is uppermost. There is no halfway house between withdrawal and non-withdrawal. It is, of course, no complete physical withdrawal that I ask. I shall insist, however, on the transfer of political power from the British to the Indian people.”
“What about the time factor?” I inquired. “When you launch your civil disobedience movement, and if the British yield, will it be a matter of the immediate transfer of political power?”
“The British,” he said, “would not have to do that in two days or in two weeks. But it must be irrevocable and complete political withdrawal.”
“Suppose the British say they will withdraw completely after the war?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “In that case my proposal loses much of its value. I want them to go now so I can help China and Russia. Today I am unable to pull my full weight in favor of them. It is my philanthropy that has made me present this proposal. For the time being, India disappears from my gaze. I never wanted independence for India’s sake alone. I never wished to play the role of frog-in-the-well.”
“You have not felt this way before, Mr. Gandhi,” I suggested.
“The whole idea,” he explained, “keeps blossoming out within me. The original idea of asking
