borrowed at three per cent than to mortgage his life away to the money-lender?”
“Money-lending is an ancient institution,” he explained, “and it is deeply rooted in the village. What you advocate cannot be done before we are free.”
“What would happen in a free India?” I asked. “What is your program for the improvement of the lot of the peasantry?”
“The peasants would take the land,” he replied. “We would not have to tell them to take it. They would take it.”
“Would the landlords be compensated?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “That would be fiscally impossible. You see,” he smiled, “our gratitude to our millionaire friends does not prevent us from saying such things. The village would become a self-governing unit living its own life.”
“But there would of course be a national government,” I said.
“No,” he said.
“But surely you need a national administration to direct the railroads, the telegraphs, and so on,” I insisted.
“I would not shed a tear if there were no railroads in India,” he replied.
“But that would bring suffering to the peasant,”
