Gandhi walked for his health, to save money, as a tourist, in war, and with his children. And most tellingly, he walked for the nation.
Most Indians may find Gandhi almost, if not completely, irrelevant in their personal lives. But it’s time we are inspired by his famous words, “My life is my message” at least in one aspect in which Indians are becoming increasingly interested: their health.
If we concede that the collective health of citizens is a nation’s health, then India is in an unenviable position regarding diabetes and heart disease. Both are classified as noncommunicable diseases (NCDs). India has 77 million diabetics, the second highest in the world, whose numbers are expected to increase to 134 million people by 2045.
Cardiovascular disease in India has more than doubled from 1990 to 2016 with deaths increasing by 34% in the same period. Heart disease in India accounts for nearly 60% of the global impact of cardiac health even though India accounts for less than 20% of the global population. Additionally, obesity—a risk factor for NCDs—increased from 2.2% to 5.1% between 1998 and 2015, which means over 135 million individuals were obese in India by 2015.
The obvious public health policy challenge is how to respond. The World Health Organization’s (WHO) strategy to prevent deaths from NCDs involves reducing the major risk factors including increasing physical activity.
Here is where Gandhi ought to make a grand reentry in our lives as he cultivated the habit of walking all his life to stay healthy. His autobiography has fascinating references to it.
It records that as a schoolboy, having read about the benefits of “long walks in the open air, and having liked the advice” he “formed the habit of taking walks which has remained with me” that gave him “a fairly hardy constitution.” For school children, he believed “physical training should have as much place in in the curriculum as mental training.”
In London, as a young man, he rented rooms “so selected as to enable me to reach the place of business on foot in half an hour and so, save fares.” This “combined walks and economy, as it meant a saving of fares, and gave me walks of 8 to 10 miles a day.” He further records the “habit of long walks […] kept me practically free from illness throughout my stay in England and gave me a fairly strong body.”
In Paris, in 1890, which had an ongoing exposition, as a tourist, he saw the city “mostly on foot” and “ascended [the Eiffel Tower] twice or thrice.” When plague broke out in Johannesburg, the municipal authorities moved Indians out by a special train to Klipspruit Farm that was thirteen miles from Johannesburg. Gandhi used to cycle there daily-the distance of a marathon.
During the Anglo-Zulu War in 1878 he records that “twice or thrice, we had to march forty miles a day” with stretchers carrying the wounded. And similarly, during the Boer War in 1899, he and others had to “march from 20 to 25 miles a day, bearing the wounded on stretchers.”
He was also a tough taskmaster. As Gandhi had not enrolled his children in formal school, he “used to get them to walk with me daily to the office and back home—a distance of about 5 miles in all. This gave them and me a fair amount of exercise.” At Tolstoy Farm, without servants, but with “many fruit trees” and gardening to be done […] the children had the lion share of the work” that included “digging pits, filling timber and lifting loads. This gave them ample exercise.” At home, he purchased a hand operated grinding machine and wrote “The grinding proved very beneficial exercise for the children.” When he was nursing his son Manilal back to health, he rented a bungalow in Santa Cruz and often “walked to Bandra in order to take the fast train from there direct to Churchgate.”
Gopal Krishna Gokhale was also at the receiving end of gentle remonstrance from Gandhi. On finding Gokhale unwell, Gandhi pointed out, “but you do not even go out for walks. Is it surprising that you should be always ailing? Should public work leave no time for physical exercise?” In Calcutta, he wanted to see Swami Vivekananda and “with great enthusiasm I went to Belur Math, mostly, or maybe all the way on foot.”
In short, Gandhi walked for his health, to save money, as a tourist, in war, and with his children. And most tellingly, he walked for the nation. Surprisingly, the obvious fact that the physical basis for the 390-kilometer long Dandi March were Gandhi’s tireless legs and his stamina have escaped adequate comment.
Inspired by his example, a Gandhi Health and Peace Walk was organized in New York on 2 October for two consecutive years with the support of the American Association of Physicians of Indian Origin (AAPI) and the Permanent Mission of India to the United Nations. With its motto, “In His Footsteps, For Your Health” the walk was warmly received by the community with many requests for making it an annual event. I believe this can be a model for similar annual walks in India.
Of course, Gandhi’s approach to health was much more than simply walking. In 1906, Gandhi had written a few articles in the Indian Opinion under the heading “Guide to Health” that were compiled in a book. In 1942, he minimally revised and republished it as “Key to Health.” Gandhi wrote he was puzzled why the book “became the most popular of his [Gandhi’s] writings.”
This clearly written and comprehensive book deserves a place in every home and should be essential reading in our schools and for public health policymakers. It has Gandhi’s definition of health. His definition preceded the WHO definition issued in 1948 that was criticized as “hopelessly vague.” According to Gandhi, writing more than a century before today’s gender neutral language, “A healthy man is free from all disease; he carries on his normal activities without fatigue. Such a man should be able with ease to walk 10 to 12 miles a day and perform ordinary physical labour without getting tired. He can digest ordinary simple food. His mind and his senses are in a state of harmony and poise. A man with extraordinary strength is not necessarily healthy. He has merely developed his musculature, possibly at the expense of something else.”
This is masterful drafting, its meaning amplified by examples, clear criteria and a telling message for today’s gym fanatics obsessed with ballooning their chests or biceps. Why not adopt this definition as the “Gandhi Standard of Health and Wellness”?
Expectedly, Gandhi, being Gandhi, did not want to keep the body healthy for cosmetic reasons. Rather, it was an instrument of selfless service and to that end, “we cannot take too much pains in keeping in a fit condition the temple of the spirit—the human body.”
Readers who wish to delve deeper into his thoughts and approach will find “Key to Health” a simple, direct and holistic book that could easily replace personal health coaches increasingly popular in urban India.
On his birthday, there is no better reason for adopting a more active healthy lifestyle than to repeat Gandhi’s words: “Anyone who observes the rules of health mentioned in this book will find that he has got in it a real key to unlock the gates leading him to health. He will not need to knock at the doors of doctors or vaidyas from day to day.”
So at the very minimum, let’s get take Gandhi off a pedestal, get on our own two legs and walk like him, day after day, year after year, decade after decade.
Walk in his footsteps, for your health.