Is This Humanity-III – Mahatma Gandhi

[Prof. Dr. Yogendra Yadav]

Prof. Dr. Yogendra Yadav

Senior Gandhian Scholar

Gandhi Research Foundation, Jalgaon, Maharashtra, India

Contact No. – 09404955338, 09415777229

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Is This Humanity-III – Mahatma Gandhi

 

Whilst I admit the possibility of having made a mistake in giving the opinion that the destruction by Mr. Ambalal’s order of sixty dogs was unavoidable, I do not regret having expressed that opinion. The result so far is all to the good. We shall perhaps now understand more clearly our duty to such animals. Much wrong has been done partly out of ignorance, partly from hypocrisy and partly for fear of public opinion. All that should now cease. But if the good is to be maintained, a clear understanding is necessary between the readers and me. I have received quite a pile of letters on the subject, some friendly, some sharp and some bitter. They do not seem to have understood my attitude on the destruction of dogs by Mr. Ambalal. I have often had the misfortune to be misunderstood. In South Africa my life was in peril over an action which was quite consistent with my avowed principles but which, as was proved later, was rashly regarded as contrary to them. The so-called “Himalayan blunder” of Bardoli is a recent memory. The Bombay Government very kindly imprisoned me at Yeravda and saved me the trouble of much writing by way of explaining and clearing my position. The Bardoli decision, I still hold, was not wrong. It was, on the contrary, an act of purest ahimsa and of invaluable service to the country. I feel just as clear about my opinion regarding the present question.

I hold that the opinion is perfectly in accord with my conception of ahimsa. The critics, whether friendly or hostile, should bear with me. Some of the hostile critics have transgressed the limits of decorum. They have made no attempt to understand my position. It seems they cannot for a moment tolerate my opinion. Now they must be one of two things. They are either my teachers or they regard me as one. In the latter case, they should be courteous and patient and should have faith in me and ponder over what I write. In the former case, they should be indulgent to me and try to reason with me as lovingly and patiently as they can. I teach the children under my care not by being angry with them, but I teach them, if at all, by loving them, by allowing for their ignorance, and by playing with them. I expect the same love, the same consideration and the same sportsmanlike spirit from my angry teachers. I have given my opinion with regard to the dogs with the best of motives and as a matter of duty. If I am mistaken, let the critics who would teach me reason with me patiently and logically. Angry and irrelevant argument will not convince me. A gentleman called on me the other evening at a late hour. He knew that my time was completely occupied. He engaged me in a discussion, used hard and bitter language and poured vials of wrath on me. I answered his questions in good humor and politely. He has published the interview in a leaflet which he is selling. It is before me. It has crossed the limits of truth, obviously of decorum. He had neither obtained my permission to publish the interview nor showed it to me before publication.

Does he seek to teach me in this manner? He who trifles with truth cuts at the root of ahimsa. He who is angry is guilty of himsa. How can such a man teach me ahimsa? Even so the hostile critics are doing me a service. They teach me to examine myself. They afford me an opportunity to see if I am free from the reaction of anger. And when I go to the root of their anger, I find nothing but love. They have attributed to me ahimsa as they understand it. Now they find me acting in a contrary manner and are angry with me. They once regarded me as a mahatma; they were glad that my influence on the people was according to their liking. Now I am an alpatma (a little soul) in their opinion; my influence on the people they now regard as unwholesome and they are pained by the discovery; and as they cannot control themselves, they turn the feeling of pain into one of anger. I do not mind this outburst of anger, as I appreciate the motive behind it. I must try to reason with them patiently, and if they would help me in my attempt, I request them to calm their anger. I am a votary of truth and seeker after it. If I am convinced that I am mistaken I shall admit my mistake (as I always love to do), and shall promptly mend it. It is the word of the scriptures that the mistakes of a votary of truth never harm anybody. That is the glorious secret of truth. Just a word to friendly critics: I have preserved your letters.

I usually reply to my correspondents individually. But the number of letters I have received this time and have been still getting is so large and they are so inordinately long that I cannot possibly reply to them individually. I cannot, I fear, make time even to acknowledge them. Some of the correspondents ask me to publish their letters in Navajivan. I hope they will not press the request. I shall try to answer all the arguments that are relevant as well as I can, and hope that that will satisfy them. I bespeak the indulgence of the reader for this necessary preface. I shall now take up some of the letters before me. A friend says: You ask us not to feed stray dogs. But we do not invite them. They simply come. How can they be turned back? It will be time enough when there is a plethora of them. But is there any doubt that feeding dogs cultivates the impulse of compassion and turning them away hardens our hearts? We are all sinners. Why should we not practice what little kindness we can? It is from this false feeling of compassion that we encourage himsa in the name of ahimsa. But as ignorance is no excuse before man-made law, even so is it no excuse before the divine Law. But let us analyze the argument.

We cast a morsel at the beggar come to our door, and feel that we have earned some merit, but we really thereby add to the numbers of beggars, aggravate the evil of beggary, encourage idleness and consequently promote irreligion. This does not mean that we should starve the really deserving beggars. It is the duty of society to support the blind and the infirm, but everyone may not take the task upon himself. The head of the society, i.e., the Mahajan or the State where it is well organized, should undertake the task, and the philanthropically inclined should subscribe funds to such an institution. If the Mahajan is pure-minded and wise, it will carefully investigate the condition of beggars and protect the deserving ones. When this does not happen, i.e., when relief is indiscriminate, scoundrels disguised as beggars get the benefit of it and the poverty of the land increases. If it is thus a sin on the part of an individual to undertake feeding beggars, it is no less a sin for him to feed stray dogs. It is a false sense of compassion. It is an insult to the starving dog to throw a crumb at him. Roving dogs do not indicate the civilization or compassion of the society; they betray on the contrary, the ignorance and lethargy of its members. The lower animals are our brethren. I include among them the lion and the tiger. We do not know how to live with these carnivorous beasts and poisonous reptiles because of our ignorance. When man knows himself better, he will learn to befriend even these. Today he does not even know how to befriend a man of a different religion or from a foreign country. The dog is a faithful companion. There are numerous instances of the faithfulness of dogs and horses.

 But that means that we should keep them and treat them with respect as we do our companions and not allow them to roam about. By aggravating the evil of stray dogs we shall not be acquitting ourselves of our duty to them. But if we regard the existence of stray dogs as a shame to us and, therefore, refuse to feed them, we shall be doing the dogs as a class a real service and make them happy. What, then, can a humane man do for stray dogs? He should set apart a portion of his income and send it on to a society for the protection of those animals if there be one. If such a society is impossible—and I know it is very difficult even if it is not impossible—he should try to own one or more dogs. If he cannot do so, he should give up worrying about the question of dogs and direct his humanity towards the service of other animals. “But you are asking us to destroy them?” is the question angrily or lovingly asked by others. Now, I have not suggested the extirpation of dogs as an absolute duty. I have suggested the killing of some dogs as a “duty in distress” and under certain circumstances. When the State does not care for stray dogs, nor does the Mahajan, and when one is not prepared to take care of them oneself, then, and if one regards them as a danger to society, one should kill them and relieve them from a lingering death. This is a bitter dose, I agree. But it is my innermost conviction that true love and compassion consist in taking it. The dogs in India are today in as bad a plight as the decrepit animals and men in the land. It is my firm conviction that this sorry plight is due to our misconception of ahimsa, is due to our want of ahimsa.

Practice of ahimsa cannot have as its result impotence, impoverishment and famine. If this is a sacred land we should not see impoverishment stalking it. From this state of things some rash and impatient souls have drawn the conclusion that ahimsa is irreligion. But I know that it is not ahimsa that is wrong, it is its votaries that are wrong. Ahimsa is the religion of a Kshatriya. Mahavir was a Kshatriya, Buddha was a Kshatriya, Rama and Krishna were Kshatriyas and all of them were votaries of ahimsa. We want to propagate ahimsa in their name. But today ahimsa has become the monopoly of timid Vaishyas and that is why it has been besmirched. Ahimsa is the extreme limit of forgiveness. But forgiveness is the quality of the brave. Ahimsa is impossible without fearlessness. Cows we cannot protect, dogs we kick about and belabor with sticks, their ribs are seen sticking out, and yet we are not ashamed of ourselves and raise a hue and cry when a stray dog is killed. Which of the two is better those five thousand dogs should wander about in semi-starvation living on dirt and excreta and drag on a miserable existence, or that fifty should die and keep the rest in a decent condition? It is admittedly sinful always to be spurning and kicking the dogs. But it is possible that the man who kills the dogs that he cannot bear to see tortured thus may be doing a meritorious act. Merely taking life is not always himsa; one may even say that there is sometimes more himsa in not taking life. We must examine this position in another article.

 

Reference:

Young India, 4-11-1926