Ministry of Non-Conventional Energy Sources

10. collective awakenings

But while the forest was growing through the trees, other movements less organic were being propagated in Pondicherry during that spring of ‘75.

A reconstituted version of the old CAA – Comité Administratif d’Auroville – had been instigated largely through the efforts of Roger Anger. Roger was interested in “building the city”. He had had enough of this “community experience”. As chief Architect with a Mediterranean nature, he was more than a bit frustrated that almost nothing of his master plan for Auroville – not even his prototype concept of Auromodèle – had manifested. For him Auroville was bogged down between administrative incompetence in Pondicherry and the equally intransigent Aurovilians who were too lost in their quest for a “collective consciousness” to see the City.

The original CAA, which had ceased to function in February of 1971, had been something implemented as an interim body, no doubt intended to offer a coherence until Aurovilians had evolved some internal sense of discipline, purpose and direction. Its extinction coincided with a message from the Mother – on the 17^th of that February ‘71: “More committees, more useless talk.”⁷⁷ But through the insistence of a few men who refused to acknowledge what she called “the great error of governments”, that “lay down mental rules according to their conceptions and ideals, and then apply them – and that is absolutely false, it is arbitrary, unreal – and the result is that things revolt or wither .and disappear …”, they would still attempt their CAA as an external leverage. And from the minutes of the March 29, 1975 CAA meeting held in Navajata’s Pondicherry office, there emerged the “new” core group-Navajata, Chairman; Roger, member; Shamsunder, member. . . – and an agenda whose third point read: “3. Consideration and finalization of objective programme for Auroville.” They clearly wanted that damned definition now!

Nava’s concern, it seems, was not so much architectural as financial. He was feeling the pressure from the steadily accumulating seven-figure rupee debt to the State Bank of India, and the prospects for repayment were not promising. On the contrary, the liabilities were increasing.

His initial direction had poured immense investments – all borrowed – into arbitrary and out-of-proportion industrial ventures. They were approaching Auroville like the businessmen that they were, a consciousness which unfortunately represented the benevolent blindness through which most of the world’s systems still make their decisions. It would never occur to them that a community must first seek to stabilize the means for its basic capital, the things on which it depends: food, water, and a supportable living environment. That would never occur to them, it was too simple, too obvious and not very impressive. Humility never is. They could only think on paper, in terms of making money – it didn’t matter how – and trees and other such “researches” were not very commercially profitable investments.

It is ironic to note in a memo which Navajata sent to the CAA on April 11^th, 1975, the means he saw towards rectifying the mistakes which contributed to the liabilities that plagued his approach to Auroville affairs: “Bad publicity harms the work and must be avoided, and the only way is what is mentioned in item 5 [of his steps to be implemented].” . . . “item 5) pictorial and brief progress reports.” In other words, don’t look for the real solution, just keep up the image.

As for the third character, Shyamsunder, it was difficult to tell which angle he was coming in from. And perhaps at that time, he himself didn’t know. He always kept his options open. He was a lawyer. And many of us in Auroville, despite his guardedness, still somehow trusted him and felt he was worthy of the responsibilities She had entrusted to him. Besides, he was the only one of them all in a kind of daily contact with Auroville, having built a large house in Auroson’s community that he began to use concurrently with the Pondicherry residence he still maintained.

It was that same May while I was busy turning compost and other things that Francis came to me and asked if I would take over his role of Greenbelt Coordinator. He was going through that periodic cycle that we all do, of withdrawing from the paper side of things to throw himself into matter. He wanted to be free to work full-time on the construction of Matrimandir. And since I was already involved in trees, it seemed natural – so I accepted.

As Greenbelt coordinator I would meet from time to time with members of the then eight Greenbelt communities and we would try to see together our needs and directions as a whole. This meant evaluating our means and possibilities, sharing our practical experience, trying to get some more conscious approach to Auroville’s tree and food needs so we could grow towards it. We were able to produce a substantial amount of dry crop grains and millet but not sufficient quantities of vegetables – that required intensive irrigation. We often found ourselves calculating our collective requirements for such things as compost and hay so that we could purchase in bulk and avoid internal competition. It was another of Auroville’s basic exercises in understanding why we had to be one.

Once a month I used to have to go to Pondy to receive the Rs. 5,000 ($ 650) from the SAS that was budgeted for the Green Fund – which somehow had to support the recurring expenditure for the then eight “greenwork” communities inhabited by 66 Aurovilians, their animals, gardens and trees. It was not a development budget, not even a maintenance budget, but somehow we managed to keep ourselves and the environment alive. But for them, for this revived CAA, it was seen as a continuous down-the-drain Rs. 5,000 turned to compost for trees which couldn't pay back spiralling bank debts. They didn’t see that trees were paying back a much deeper debt, one with thousands of years of interest to the Earth. And one day I was simply informed that due to the pressing financial difficulties, the Rs. 5,000 would no longer be available for the Green Fund. None of us really believed that, it just seemed that their priorities and ours didn’t seem to correspond.

There we were, the Greenbelt, abruptly on our own. We met together, knew there was no way back, knew that what money we might beg through the CAA would have too many strings attached; so we began to pool what little resources we had among ourselves and I prepared an “Auroville Green Fund Financial Survey” which we sent out to friends and Centres, giving a perspective of the Greenbelt communities, their work and their minimum budgetary needs. And somehow we managed, barely.

But by now the body of Auroville had begun to reject the pathology of this CAA.

Frederick, in a letter to the CAA dated 18 April 1975, wrote:

I consider it only fair to the CAA and particularly to Roger to make my position clear before Roger leaves for Paris. I and all those in Auroville to whom I spoke lately are aware of the need for an organized and truly representative structure of self-governing in Auroville. But contrary to those who now form the CAA, I believe that in Auroville itself an adequate governing body … will evolve provided time and discrimination is given.

It is better to work for this evolution than to superimpose an administration which has no touch with the existing realities.

I object to the members, to the objectives and to the methods and will work towards a change. I hope that it will come about without being a reaction towards the present malrepresentation, but will stand on its own truth.

Roger, you are leaving, and the change will occur while you are away. I hope that you will be able to accept a new situation which will not be master-minded by anybody, but which externally has been triggered off by the present inadequate situation.

And Jocelyn Elder, another Auroville resident, in a similar memo addressed to the CAA later that same month, observed:

… I have recently made a survey in Auroville, as some of you are aware, to ascertain how many Aurovilians recognized as valid the committee which you have constructed. My findings reveal that not only do the majority of Aurovilians not recognize the validity of your newly-formed CAA, but by and large they do not even wish to accord it enough recognition to actively deny it . . .

Something was beginning to arouse, a child beginning to awaken, to forcibly discover himself under the oppressive control of an overbearing guardian.

And Shyamsunder could sense this. He lived among us and we shared our frank misgivings with him. He seemed to understand. He seemed to sympathize. He began absenting himself from the CAA circus.

But the circus continued and the side shows and the juggling, books and all.

Then, on the 26^th of April, Shyamsunder, the General Secretary and Treasurer of the SAS, made his move. In a short communique “to the Auroville communities”, he offered a brief five-point statement clarifying his position, the fourth point of which said, “My participation in the CAA has ended”. Most of us were grateful, he had thrown in his lot with the residents of Auroville, or so we thought. And we turned to him, convinced that he could appreciate the organics of this awkward and unruly child that we were and the tolerance that it needed in order to grow.

And whether out of designs of his own or due to the influence of the Aurovilians who prevailed upon him, or more probably out of some mixture of both, Shyamsunder began to challenge Navajata’s supremacy, entered into open contention with the Chairman in a duel that remains indecipherable to the occidental mind. Two archetypal personalities repeating a struggle for power, an enigmatic struggle to control, the seed-war of the absolute “I”.

And beginning in early June, they exchanged a series of terse letters confirming the controversy in writing. In a letter of the 14^th June, Shyamsunder writes to Nava: “Both by its composition and its acts it (the CAA) is now an imposition on Auroville by yourself, Roger and some others none of whom is a resident of Auroville. The acts of the CAA are neither regular nor binding on Auroville . . . You repeatedly refer to the resolution dated 2 December ‘73 perhaps because you forget that you are not the President of the Society and the resolution (Delegation of Powers) is applicable to a president and not to you. . .”

Nava, in his reply dated 14^th June, begins with, “I am pained at the way the correspondence is now developing”; proceeds to refute point by point Shyam’s accusations; and concludes with the nearly prophetic phrase: “. . . if we go on like this we will ruin the Auroville project.”

Nava had the conservative backing of the Ashram Trustees, particularly Sri Counouma, the Managing Trustee – also a lawyer – who did not appreciate the exposure that Shyamsunder was attracting to the affair which was bound to reflect adversely on the Ashram. He was also a firm believer in the dictum that “bad publicity harms the work and must be avoided.” But by June of ‘75, despite all of their attempts to re-inflate it, the CAA bubble popped.

Through the remainder of that summer and into the early fall, an endless stream of Aurovilians approached Nava with a variation of proposals all seeking some form of harmonious autonomy for Auroville, including the co-option of Aurovilians chosen by Aurovilians onto the elite Executive Committee of the SAS, now that the CAA charade was over. But all of these dialogues and negotiations to bring about a more direct participation of Aurovilians in their own affairs never got beyond the satisfaction of words. There were always the promises and reassurances “that we would look into this”, and of course the lemonade. And some of us were still so gullible that we left convinced that we had converted him.

But now, despite our slumber, someone had been aroused, awakened to his first stirrings for freedom and the painful awareness of his own inadequacies and irresponsibilities. Someone who we were and would become. . . all of us.

11. the labour of being

Auroville was being propelled on a course that would carry it beyond itself. The past which was trying to overtake it was somehow provoking its future. And though in the months and years to come we would look over our collective shoulders numberless times, caught in the hesitations of witnessing our bridges burning behind us and unable to see where all this was leading – stranded on the uncertain ground of an eroding red plateau in rural South India on the margin of survival, dangling by the delicate threads of our visas – we would go on, into the unknown, come what may! We had a commitment to this Auroville, a commitment that went much deeper than we could know, that went through to that other story, forever there, vibrating in the atom, the star and the heart of man.

Ironically at this time, these first inspired acts of the child Auroville, these first rebellious stirrings of self-hood, primordial rememberings of freedom, would emanate from the Centre and Auroson’s Home, the community where Auroville's first child lived. Not from the later more dramatic movements in which Aspiration earned its reputation and labels and which Centre would later try to stay above.

In early October of 1975, one of the last and perhaps most blatantly petty and unacceptable actions was staged through the interplay of that subtle feud between Navajata and Shyamsunder. A check which had been sent for the rather desperate Green Fund from America in response to its “Financial Survey” landed up in Shyamsunder’s hands. He casually informed me afterwards that he felt obliged to turn it over to Nava’s newly-formed Auroville Financial Committee since he himself was a member. He knew that this “new” committee had made an agreement to turn over half of its receipts to the State Bank of India towards repayment of the growing debt; and he probably knew the course of action I would, and did, take. He was well versed in the politics of Pavlov.

I typed the following “Open Letter to the New Auroville Financial Committee” from Unity Office, dated October 21, 1975:

On the 1^st of June, 1975, the Rs. 5,000 previously provided by the Auroville General Fund to the Green Belt communities towards their maintenance and program expenses was suspended.

The reason given for the suspension was the extreme state of Auroville’s financial deficit. This rendered the Green Fund a fund in name only.

Accepting the action positively, the Green Fund has since attempted to develop independent sources of income. Toward this goal, an “Auroville Green Fund Financial Survey” was compiled stating the present economic conditions along with a brief bio-data description and working resume of the eight green belt communities. This Survey was then circulated freely in Auroville and abroad through certain Centres in the States as a vehicle of information as well as a request for assistance. As a result, a small but genuine response began to generate.

Last week I learned that a $ 300 check (Rs. 2,600) sent by the East-West Cultural Centre in America for the Green Fund, was turned over to the newly-formed Auroville Financial Committee; whereupon it was decided (without unanimous consensus) that half the sum was to revert to the General Fund for repayment of overdraft accounts and the remaining half released for the Green Fund.

The growing of trees and the rebuilding of soil is not a commercial enterprise but a service-a service invaluable to the future of Auroville – and as such should not be evaluated in the narrow terms of monetary return and cash equivalent. Yet, when the Old Committee determined that money was no longer available for the Green Fund, the Green Fund undertook the initiative to seek its own support and bear its own burden, however awkwardly. It now finds itself in the ironic position of not only having been cut off from the General Fund support. . . but having to provide half of its own barely visible resources according to the discretion of the new regime. Presently the Green Fund is reduced to virtually nothing, while half a dozen communities are caught in the bind between trying to meet the expenses of harvesting the last crop and planting the new one.

One can only hope that those who look upon themselves as decision-makers see that the diversion of funds donated for specific projects without the mutual consent of the donor and the intended recipient is bound to disrupt the flow of money, the flow of trust, and the flow of Truth.

At the service of Truth,

(signed) Savitra

I added my own little irritant by indicating that copies of this letter had been sent to the donor and to the Centres concerned in America. This was understandably intolerable to those who did not wish such exposure. It might harm the work. What work? dammit! The work of effectively blocking and undermining Auroville's work behind closed doors? Enough of the polite sophistries of these Gentlemen who did not wish to disturb decorum or dignity but who were prepared to smother Auroville's first breaths, honourably of course, by the rules. Priests who were prepared to sacrifice this living grain of a Dream before their altar of Law.

There were several sequels to that open letter. The first and most obvious was that the Green Fund never even got half the donation which we were told we would get. The second was that the term “foreigners” entered into the vocabulary of the SAS and Ashram Executives. We were now considered “foreigners” meddling in “their” Auroville affairs, “Auroville wants to be Universal township where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realize human unity.” (The Mother, 8.9.65)

The third sequel to that letter was a spontaneous discussion I had with Frederick concerning the present events in which we concluded, “We’ve had enough”. We had had enough.

Frederick, of German origins, was one of Auroville’s earliest inhabitants and the father of Auroson. He lived in the house bearing his son's name with Shyama, mother of Auroson who was now in her last months of pregnancy with their second child.

Auroson’s Home was the chrysalis for these first embryonic movements of a free Auroville. It was the focus of the ferment, the place of incubation. It had been dedicated by the Mother as “a new house for a new consciousness”.

A series of decisions took place at Auroson’s during those last days of October between a number of Auroville residents who had felt that things had gone too far, that Auroville was slowly being suffocated by the SAS and its Chairman, that one by one, all of Auroville's attempts to become and to express itself were being squeezed out before it could be born. All of the life-lines were being cut: we had no chance to determine our priorities, no way to receive our finances, no way to represent or communicate Ourselves, no way to even be recognized except through the SAS. Even the land we worked on was held in their name. They could swallow us alive and everything was legal.

It was not long before these talks and the questions which they forced us to ask ourselves led us to the inevitable: Auroville had to be free. Auroville could no longer be imposed upon, would no longer meekly submit to the grip that was tightening – and the result is that things revolt or wither and disappear . .

Auroville, despite all of the internal resistances that each of us carried in himself, was in revolt. It was following the most basic law of all, the law To Be.

The conclusions were now inescapable. It was only a question of how, of methods. The most logical, though perhaps not the most inspiring course, was to seek an independent legal status for Auroville whereby it could freely exercise its living functions which now had been usurped by the Executive Committee of the SAS. Something which could offer a protection, even if only transitionally, so that Auroville could live according to its Charter whose first line says: “Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. Auroville belongs to humanity as a whole.” The line which challenged the rule of the ego.

We could not at that time, however, anticipate the implications of such a legal course of action, nor could we envisage its limitations; for just as Auroville was something which defied traditional bureaucratic categories, likewise it was not something which lent itself to existing legal formulations. We did not realize that even if we succeeded, we might be heading into another straight-jacket of our own making. But it was the step in front and the only one which seemed available to us then. And you have to take the step, even if it stumbles; for it's the leverage of the next one and the next one. There are no ultimate mistakes except to stand still.

Frederick, along with Toine and Ruud – two Dutchmen involved with the Matrimandir-and Yusuf, an Indian living in Auroson’s community, had reached the point of combustion. They began to translate their feelings into an action which led to a series of discussions with Shyamsunder who, as a lawyer and as one who seemed sympathetic to Auroville’s aspirations, could offer the necessary legal advice.

Simultaneously converging in this rapidly approaching moment-to-be, as if in some race to avoid the inevitable, Counouma, Managing Trustee of the Ashram and a lawyer in his own right, sent off an urgent memo to Nava and Shyamsunder dated 23^rd October 1975:

We were to appoint to the Executive Committee of Sir Aurobindo Society two more members from Auroville. As previously decided, if the both of you have agreed on two names, please send me those names. If not, we are to sit with Dyuman [another Ashram Trustee and the fourth member of the then Executive Committee] to find out two good people acceptable to all concerned. For that purpose, could you please come to my house tomorrow at 10:30 A.M. Dyuman has been informed. This matter must not be delayed, as it is very important for all of us not to lose our credibility.

(s/d) Counouma

But it was too late for them to agree, they could never condescend to meet Aurovilians as equals. . . nor themselves. And in the accelerating vortex of the moment, all of those last desperate attempts to compromise burned into an anachronism along with the pathetic mirage of their credibility.

All of the forces were playing out their parts, doing what they had to do in that pregnant moment that nothing could stop. Even all of our resistances and denials and deformations could only serve now to quicken the birth, to hasten the process of a free Auroville which none of us could control. None of us.

And so it was, as if out of some ancient allegory, some archetypal myth, that Shyamsunder handed over a document to four Aurovilians that he had long ago prepared, which had been lying dormant for a year when men like Roger had first conspired to carve Auroville out of the Empire of the SAS-a document called “Memorandum of Association and Rules and Regulations of Auroville”. It was a legal document to be used for the formal registration of a Society called “Auroville”.

There it was. Ready-made. Immediately useable. Tempting. And ironically modelled upon the Constitution of the SAS, the very body which Auroville was seeking its freedom from. But even rotten apples carry seeds of new and unforeseen possibilities.

Yusuf hesitated, felt the old format grafted on. But Frederick was impatient, driven like the rest of us to our destiny. For him it was now, the Constitution was only a temporal instrument, it could be changed. But the moment could not be delayed.

And so it was that seven names of Aurovilians were gathered, the minimum number of Trustees required to constitute a Society in Tamil Nadu, India. There was already Yusuf and Toine and Ruud and Frederick. And then Boris, a young Frenchman from Fertile happened by to see his wife and new-born son. And that made five. Two more. They thought it would be good to have another Indian and at least one woman. Frederick turned to Rajan, a young Indian who had graduated through the ranks of being an SAS employee to become an Aurovilian; and to Shraddhavan, an English girl formerly known as Maggie, teaching in Aspiration. And there was seven. And Shraddhavan, the single woman member, was invited to be Chairman.

On the eve of that moment, Frederick spoke with Bomi of the imminent event. Bomi, a fiery and uncompromising Gujarati of Parsee descent, was himself fiercely in the middle of legal consultations in Madras towards the same end. He was terribly disappointed to hear of the impending act. Why couldn’t you wait? he asked Fred, Why were you so impatient? You knew I was working with a lawyer myself. And why Shyamsunder? Bomi was one of those who distrusted Shyam from the beginning.

Frederick tried to be conciliatory, he realized his own tendencies toward bullishness. He told Bomi that there was still time if he wished to be an eighth signatory. But Bomi was a proud man and answered Fred with a story of a wandering swami who had come to the door of a householder in search of some milk. Carefully the householder's wife poured the milk for him, watching closely so that the cream she guarded should not spill out into his bowl. But she could not prevent some of the cream from slipping out and the swami observed her sudden reflex to retrieve it. Before she could explain herself, the swami politely returned the milk to the woman. “No thank you,” he said and he left. “No thank you, yar” Bomi told Frederick. Bomi always called his friends "yar". He clearly felt we had been passed a rotten apple.

But even rotten apples carry the grains of something else, something incorruptible.

And on the morning of 4^th November 1975, seven Aurovilians did what they had to and went to the Registrar of Societies in Cuddalore where they duly registered a Society whose name was “Auroville”.