Why the British Empire Secretly Loved Gandhi

We are taught from childhood to view Mahatma Gandhi as the ultimate underdog - a single, ascetic figure shaking the foundations of the global British Empire through sheer spiritual power.

But in 1949, the sharp-eyed essayist George Orwell published a critique titled Reflections on Gandhi. He peeled back the myth to reveal a much more complex, uncomfortable political reality: The British Empire didn't just tolerate Gandhi; they frequently found him incredibly useful. Here is the unvarnished breakdown of the political chess game between a saint and an empire, seen entirely through Orwell's lens.

Strictly speaking, as a nationalist leader, Gandhi was an enemy of British rule. Yet, whenever a major national crisis threatened to boil over into a violent, chaotic revolution, Gandhi would exert his immense moral authority to stop the violence, or wasn’t that his stand always?

From the British strategic perspective, preventing violence meant preventing any truly effective anti-colonial action.

Because Gandhi kept the masses dedicated to Satyagraha (non-violent resistance), the British handled him with a unique gentleness. In private circles, British officials cynically but openly admitted that Gandhi could be regarded as “our man”. They preferred dealing with his peaceful protests over facing an uncontrollable, bloody uprising.

The British government weren't the only ones who found Gandhi’s approach convenient. India’s wealthiest industrial millionaires heavily backed and funded his movement.

During the 1930s and 40s, the global rise of Socialism and Communism terrified the ruling class. Wealthy elites knew that if a radical, left-wing revolution took hold of the independence movement, their lands, riches, and factories would be forcibly seized.

Gandhi offered a peaceful alternative. Instead of demanding a total overthrow of the class system or the forced redistribution of wealth, he merely called upon the rich to "repent" and act as moral trustees of their wealth. Naturally, the millionaires vastly preferred moral appeals over having their fortunes stripped away by radical socialists.

The gentleness with which the British treated Gandhi only evaporated when his actions threatened their survival during World War II.

In 1942, as a Japanese invasion of India loomed, Gandhi pushed his non-violent stance to its absolute limit, effectively turning his passive resistance against the Allied war effort.

It was only then - when his non-violence crossed the line from a manageable domestic protest into a threat to the global military machine - that British Conservatives under Winston Churchill grew genuinely furious with him. They realized his methods relied entirely on commanding global publicity and appealing to a government with a free press; it was a tactic that worked against Britain, but would have been utterly useless against totalitarian regimes like Stalin's Russia.

Despite his deep criticisms of Gandhi's anti-humanist asceticism, Orwell's ultimate conclusion was surprisingly respectful. He noted that British officials, despite their disapproval, genuinely liked and admired Gandhi after a fashion, knowing he was entirely free from corruption, vulgar ambition, malice, or fear.

Ultimately, the British did exit India without a war. While this was partly due to the election of a domestic Labour government in 1945, Orwell notes that Gandhi's relentless, non-hating struggle succeeded in "disinfecting the political air," allowing a decent post-colonial relationship to form.

Orwell's final thought leaves us with a profound question:

Cheers,

KC