A Burman walks in front of his wife because in the very recent past, everywhere in Burma, and in most places even now, the advance was the place of difficulty. There were no roads, only paths through jungle or across the fields. There were thorny creepers to be cut back, streams and mud puddles to be forded, cattle and buffaloes to be driven away, snakes to be killed, and the nasty, snapping pariah dogs to be kept at a distance. No woman could or would go in front. The man goes in front from courtesy and carries a chopper, the woman follows with the bundle. It is their courtesy. If this habit continues when the necessity has passed, that is simply because a custom once established is, East or West, hard to break. See what Yoshio Markino says about this same custom in Japan.
Polyandry was due to restriction of the means of subsistence, limiting the population and so necessitating the exposure of girl children; occasional polygamy—for it is always only occasional, exceptional—is an imperfection of humanity, universal East or West. In the East they try to make the best of it by acknowledging it; the West hides it and pretends it does not exist. That is a difference of treatment, not of fact.
If you want to know the true instinctive feeling of men to women in the East you will find it not in laws, customs, or religions, but in the literature. Read their folk-tales, their love-stories, those which warm the hearts of boys and girls, of men and women, aye even of the old, those that rising from the heart appeal unto the heart. Their ideals are our ideals—one woman and one man; and I think sometimes they come nearer their realisation than we do. We pretend more, but pretence is not reality.
If this be true of love, the mother of all emotions, it is true of all the others. Their circumstances being different they must find different ways of reaching towards their ideals, but the ideals are the same.
Therefore all the Indian peoples have a common humanity; and more, they have a great many circumstances in common. They are all, for instance, mainly agricultural; they are all in a very similar stage of evolution—the village community stage; they are all poor, they are all natural and simple; they are all under our rule. These are more potent influences than religion or race if they are allowed to have their sway.
Then as to races, I do not think, for instance, that races in India are much more mixed than in Italy. Think of the races there are all grouped under the name Italian: there are Roman, Etruscan, Greek, Saracen, Norman, Goth—who shall say how many more? And in Great Britain I cannot count them.
Therefore, because in this book I am speaking of the real humanity hid beneath the clothes, the bonds, the chains of conventions and of customs, of religions and belief, I can speak of the Indian peoples as one people. Details differ enormously, but details do not ever affect principles, only the method of their application. And creeds, faiths, laws, and customs pass; humanity remains.
The Indian people, then, over whom we established our government accepted it, and helped us to establish it. They wanted peace. For two centuries or more they had been torn with wars, with insurrections, with internal anarchy, and with their consequences. They wanted rest, to plough, to sow, to reap, to trade in peace. We gave them that. They wanted Courts Criminal and Civil that were not corrupt. We gave them honest Judges. They wanted facilities for trade—roads, posts, and such things—which we provided. They could expand and use some of their energies.
But the field was a narrow one. Men are not born to sow and reap and trade alone. They have other emotions which seek for outlet, other energies which require a vent. Man is gregarious, and he is so made that he cannot fully develop himself except in larger and again larger communities. To reach his full stature in any way he must develop in all ways. He must feel himself part of ever greater organisms, the village first, the district and the nation—finally of humanity.
But in India all this is impossible. Except the village there is no community that exists even in name, and we have injured, almost destroyed, even that. Thus an Indian has no means of growth. He cannot be a citizen of anything at all. Half his sympathies and abilities lie entirely fallow, therefore he cannot fully develop the other half. A man is a complete organism, and if you keep half in inaction you affect the other half too. A man is not a worse but a better merchant, or lawyer, or landowner, or soldier, because he is interested in his locality, his community, his nation. It gives him wider views, makes him more tolerant, more humane, more wise. Man as a unit is a poor thing, physically, morally, and intellectually. Ability is the product of communities, of men formed into organisms, not of individuals. Each man in himself has no duty but to himself; to own a duty to a community he must be part of the community; to a government he must have a place in the government; to a nation he must be part of the nation. But in India there is no nation, no community at all, save very weakened village communities. As far as the Indian is concerned no larger community exists. And I have already pointed out that India has no place in the organism of government.