The banyan of Dandi

April 6, 2025, marks the 95th anniversary of the historic Dandi March spearheaded by Mahatma Gandhi. Of all the satyagrahas undertaken by him, the ‘Salt March’ from Ahmedabad to Dandi is perhaps the most famous. Dandi rose to national and international fame in 1930 when Gandhiji chose this coastal hamlet in western Gujarat as the destination for his Salt Satyagraha. Accompanied by 78 followers, he marched the 241 miles (388 km) to Dandi in 25 days. It was here on the morning of April 6 that the Mahatma lifted a fistful of salt from the sea to defy the oppressive British Salt Act.

The Salt March, also called the Dandi March, sparked a nationwide non-violent Civil Disobedience Movement against British rule throughout the subcontinent. It also proved to be a tipping point in the erosion of legitimacy and ultimately led to the end of colonial rule in India. The Dandi March is thus an emblem of India’s unique freedom struggle.

Close to this site, where the National Salt Satyagraha Memorial now stands, is another historic landmark — a banyan tree under which the Mahatma held prayer meetings and delivered speeches during his stay in Dandi.

A large tree with several branches in 1930, the banyan stood in front of Dandi’s primary school, close to Saifee Villa, where Gandhiji had taken up residence. The marchers arrived in Dandi from the neighbouring village of Matwad on the morning of April 5. At dusk, turning left from Saifee Villa, Gandhiji walked about 200 metres to the banyan tree and addressed a large gathering, eagerly waiting to hear their leader before he broke the draconian salt law. Seated under the tree on a rickety chair that evening, the Mahatma delivered a powerful message that challenged the unfair British taxation system, setting the tone for the long struggle ahead.

The next morning, everyone was up early, and the prayer meeting under the tree was markedly solemn. Speaking on the occasion, Gandhiji announced that if he were to be arrested, the satyagraha would continue to be led first by Abbas Tyabji and later by Sarojini Naidu. The group then proceeded to the sea and there, amid chants of “Gandhiji ki jai” and “Vande Mataram”, the Sage of Sabarmati picked up a fistful of saline mud — turns out it had 23 grams of salt — and famously declared, “With this salt, I am shaking the foundations of the empire.” This marked the beginning of civil disobedience nationwide.

The banyan tree served as the venue for prayer meetings throughout Gandhiji’s stay in Dandi. The historic tree gradually slipped from national memory but continued to survive in relative obscurity over the three decades following the Salt March. In 1961, someone in the government thought of developing the area around it. An enclosure with a low wall and a decorative gateway was built to honour the unity of religions. A small statue of the Mahatma, seated on a pedestal, along with quotations from his speeches (also carved in stone), was installed under the tree. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru inaugurated the memorial and dedicated it to the nation at a ceremony in 1961.

When I visited Dandi in March 2020, the banyan tree that I beheld in this enclosure appeared much smaller than what I had imagined it to be in my mind’s eye. Was it the same old tree that had been made famous by the Mahatma, or was it a younger substitute for the original one that was no more? If so, when did the old one die? Who planted the new one? More puzzlingly, why were several other banyans there? Within the limited time at my disposal in Dandi, I was only able to gather that the original tree had died in a storm and was subsequently replaced.

After my return to Delhi, I began searching for clues regarding the banyan of Dandi. Searching for information on trees, even famous ones, can often be a frustrating experience in India. The Dandi banyan was no different. The vast literature on the Salt March yields precious little on the tree itself, with one notable exception: a book written by Thomas Weber, an Australian scholar and Gandhian, who had retraced the entire route of the Salt March in 1983 and wrote about it in a book titled ‘On the Salt March’ (Rupa Publications, New Delhi, 2009).

When Weber reached Dandi, he found the tree missing. “The low wall and the ornate concrete gateway representing the unity of religions,” he recorded, “was there. The area for speeches and the quotations from Gandhi were there — the tree, however, was missing.” Only a few months earlier, that historic banyan had been knocked down in the storms that had devastated Gujarat.

Indeed, a severe storm had pounded the coastal districts of Gujarat in 1982, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The toll included hundreds of human lives and lakhs of heads of livestock. Strong winds and incessant rains flooded low-lying areas, inflicting heavy damage on trees. Thousands of them were laid low. One of the casualties was Gandhiji’s banyan or Gandhi Vad, as it is locally known, which collapsed at the site. Though highly disheartened by this information, I felt vindicated at another level. My search then became more frantic as I tried to find out what happened afterwards. I poured over more literature, tapped several contacts I knew, all to no avail. Finally, I sought help from Professor Weber. He recalled, even after so many years of his Dandi days, that the tree had fallen and that Morarji Desai had planted a sapling. He also helpfully advised me to contact Anuj Ambalal in Ahmedabad for any possible clues.

Ambalal had recently made a name for himself by photographically documenting Gandhi’s legacy of satyagraha through the physical route of the Dandi March in his book ‘23 Grams of Salt: Retracing Gandhi’s March to Dandi’ (Navajivan Trust, 2020). Ambalal promptly responded to my plea for help and reiterated that the tree now standing in Dandi was planted from the branches of the fallen banyan by Desai, and provided me with the contact information of Mohanbhai Dandikar, a well-known writer, translator and Gandhian based in Dandi, for more definitive information.

Just before contacting him, I looked up Dandikar on the Internet. To my great dismay, I found that he had recently passed on in Navsari due to a heart attack. By now, my luck seemed to have ended in a cul-de-sac. In desperation, I contacted Anuj Ambalal again. Displaying great patience, he promptly provided me with another contact in Dandi: Dhirubhai Haribhai Patel, yet another Gandhian. With great trepidation, I dialled his mobile number. The voice at the other end confirmed that it was, indeed, Dhirubhai’s. To my great delight, he also confirmed that he was familiar with the story of the Dandi tree.

In a series of telephone conversations and WhatsApp messages from January to March 2021, Dhirubhai provided me with firsthand information about the event. He also sent me a few photographs of the replanting ceremony and the letter issued by the Yuva Mandal of Dandi inviting people to the function.

Dhirubhai was born in Dandi in the year of the Salt March, and was 92 when I contacted him. He has remained a steadfast Gandhian all along. Here is the story he narrated:

The collapse of the Gandhi Vad in the storm was a tragic event. For the young Gandhians in Dandi, the tree was not only historic, but also sacred. Since all government agencies were preoccupied with the devastation caused by the cyclone and no one had time for Gandhi Vad, the Dandi Yuva Mandal, led by Dilkhushbhai Diwanji, a local Gandhian, decided to take matters into its own hands. First, a few cuttings from the original tree were carefully prepared and kept ready for planting at the site. The complex where the original tree had stood was spruced up. Morarji Desai, former Prime Minister and a staunch Gandhian, was invited to replant the tree. At that time, Desai was out of power and had retired from active politics. A function was held on November 6, 1982.

After performing a brief puja and havan in front of a small assembly of local people, Desai replanted one of the rescued cuttings of the mother tree. Dhirubhai recalls that the function was entirely organised by the people of Dandi, with no officials from either the state or Central governments present on the occasion. It is this tree, originating from a branch of the parent, that stands at the site today and is now approximately 43 years old. Some of the other stem cuttings taken from the original tree were also planted on the premises, including one by Professor Weber. Today, there are several banyan trees within the walled premises, not organically connected to the central tree.

For over nine decades, the tree has continued to inspire generations of people who come to Dandi from around the world. For some strange reason, the sprawling National Salt Satyagraha Memorial, inaugurated on January 30, 2019, does not include this historic tree. Not even a signboard at the memorial directs you towards the Gandhi Vad. Yet, it is the only living, still breathing, visceral connection in Dandi to the great man. I suppose it is another illustration of how built heritage is favoured over living heritage in this country.

— The writer is the author of ‘Iconic Trees of India’

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