For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment

Ahimsa and Mahatma Gandhi-XVI

Prof. Dr. Yogendra Yadav

Senior Gandhian Scholar, Professor, Editor and Linguist

Gandhi International Study and Research Institute, Jalgaon, Maharashtra, India

Contact No. – 09404955338, 09415777229

E-mail- dr.yadav.yogendra@gandhifoundation.net;

dr.yogendragandhi@gmail.com

Mailing Address- C- 29, Swaraj Nagar, Panki, Kanpur- 208020, Uttar Pradesh, India

Ahimsa and Mahatma Gandhi-XVI

Anybody does not love truth and cannot recognize goodness or beauty lives in his own self conceit and remains ignorant of spiritual joy. Similarly, he who has no hope, who has, in other words, no faith in divine justice, will never be cheerful in heart. And he who is without love, that is, lacks the spirit of ahimsa, who cannot look upon all living things as his kith and kin, will never know the secret of living. 1 If somebody is pleased by your punishing yourself it is not correct to describe that as the effect of ahimsa. But the matter is not important. As your faith becomes stronger, your reason will develop. The Gita seems to tell us that God Himself gives us the light of reason. Our duty is to strengthen our faith. It is, of course, necessary to understand the meaning of faith and reason in this context. We cannot understand them through verbal definitions, but can do so only through true humility. He who believes that he knows, knows nothing. But he who believes that he knows nothing, acquires knowledge at the right time. Even God cannot pour Ganga water into a pot that is full. We should, therefore, always stand before God with empty hands. Our vow of non-possession means the same thing. 2

If, however, we reflect over the teaching of the Gita as a whole and examine the characteristics of the sthitaprajna, of the man who has merged in the Brahman, of the bhakta or of the yogi, we can come to only one conclusion, namely, that the Shri Krishna who taught the path of the Gita was literally an avatar of ahimsa and his exhortation to Arjuna to fight does not in the least detract from the purity of his ahimsa. On the contrary, if he had advised Arjuna to follow any other course, I am sure that the perfection of his knowledge would have been called in question and he would never have come to be worshipped as the most perfect avatar of God. You should read what I have written in this connection in Anasaktiyog. 3

We find that it breathes the pure spirit of ahimsa. We should not, believing or claiming that Shri Krishna is the most perfect avatar of God, expect that we can get from his words a simple reply to every question that may arise in our minds in the same manner that we can find the meaning of a word by looking up a dictionary. Even if we could find such replies, that would do us harm, for in that case nobody would strive for further advance or new discoveries. Man’s reason would simply atrophy. Thus, the people of every age should strive to solve the problems of that age by their own hard labour and tapascharya. We should, therefore, try to solve the problems which arise in the present age in regard to war and other issues with the help of the principles enunciated in a noble work like the Gita. But even such help will be negligible. We shall get real help only from what we learn through tapascharya. Books on Ayurveda describe the properties of innumerable herbs and plants. We may read those descriptions for guidance. But the knowledge so gained will be useless, may even be burdensome, if the properties attributed to those herbs and plants do not pass the test of actual experience. We have to seek solutions to the many difficult problems of life in exactly the same manner. 4

Now I will deal with the issue which you have raised. Compassion and ahimsa are not two different things. Compassion is not opposed to ahimsa. Anything which is so opposed is not true compassion. We can describe compassion as the concrete expression of ahimsa. It is a contradiction in terms to describe any man as free from attachment and without compassion. A person who is free from attachment should have a compassionate heart as large as the ocean. And when such compassion embraces millions, to say that, though sattvik, it is not free from attachment is to betray ignorance of the meaning of the word or else to give it a new meaning. Generally, we use the word in the sense in which Tulsidas has used it. Here, compassion is used as a synonym for ahimsa. Perfect ahimsa is possible only in the atman in its disembodied state. But when the atman takes on a body, ahimsa manifests itself in one as the feeling of compassion. Considered from this point of view, my mercy-killing of the calf was an expression of the purest ahimsa. To endure suffering in one’s own person is the very nature of the atman, but it is contrary to its nature to make or let others suffer. If the mercy killing of the calf had been prompted by a desire to relieve my own pain [at its suffering], the act was not ahimsa, but to end the calf’s pain was ahimsa. Indeed, ahimsa implies inability to endure other creatures suffering pain. From such inability arise compassion, heroism and all other virtues associated with ahimsa. It is perverse logic to argue that we should be able to look on while others suffer.

Again, it is not always true that death is more painful for human beings than anything they may suffer in life. I think that it is we ourselves that have made death the terror it is. The so-called savages do not have the same fear of death. The martial races also have very little of it. And in the West a school of thought is spreading whose followers would prefer to end their lives rather than go on living in extreme pain. I think that the assumption of excessive fear of death proceeds from ignorance or dry theorizing. Because of that assumption, we, and especially the Jains, have perverted the meaning of ahimsa; with the result that true ahimsa has practically disappeared. A woman who jumps into a well in anger may clutch at a rope offered to her, but one who has jumped into it deliberately under the force of some belief, whatever it be, will disdain to avail herself of a rope even if offered to her. The practice of harakiri among the Japanese is a well known example of this. Whether that practice is the result of right knowledge or ignorance is beside the point. Here I am only pointing out that there are countless instances in which men prefer death to life. In the West they kill animals whose condition is hopeless and who suffer extreme pain, and behind this practice lies the belief that they do not experience much fear of death, and that they will prefer death to suffering pain beyond a certain limit. This idea may not be true, and it is, therefore, our duty to behave towards animals as if life was as dear to them as it is to human beings. The martial races also have very little of it. And in the West a school of thought is spreading whose followers would prefer to end their lives rather than go on living in extreme pain.

I think that the assumption of excessive fear of death proceeds from ignorance or dry theorizing. Because of that assumption, we, and especially the Jains, have perverted the meaning of ahimsa; with the result that true ahimsa has practically disappeared. A woman who jumps into a well in anger may clutch at a rope offered to her, but one who has jumped into it deliberately under the force of some belief, whatever it be, will disdain to avail herself of a rope even if offered to her. The practice of harakiri among the Japanese is a well known example of this. Whether that practice is the result of right knowledge or ignorance is beside the point. Here I am only pointing out that there are countless instances in which men prefer death to life. In the West they kill animals whose condition is hopeless and who suffer extreme pain, and behind this practice lay the belief that they do not experience much fear of death, and that they will prefer death to suffering pain beyond a certain limit. This idea may not be true, and it is, therefore, our duty to behave towards animals as if life was as dear to them as it is to human beings. If you accept so much, it is not very necessary to consider the matter from a social point of view or from the point of view of our duty towards society. Where the people have regard for ahimsa, there is little risk of the example of my killing the calf being misused. Where people have no such regard, in any case animals are killed. Thus, my action is not likely to increase violence to animals. When killing the calf, it was not necessary for me to know all the possible consequences of my action. If it was certain that the calf would never die in any other manner, I should of course have paused before killing it. In other words, if it were the case that nobody but I could have ended the calf’s life, it would have been necessary for me to think of all the possible consequences of my action. But the fact is that all creatures, calves as much as we, live with the possibility of death always hanging over us. Therefore, the utmost that could have happened was that the calf would have lived for a few days or months or a year more.

These considerations are not irrelevant to the case, since my motive was disinterested and my only aim was to end the pain of the calf. We may, therefore, say that even if there was any error in my reasoning, no harmful consequence to the calf followed which would never have followed but for my action. Ask me again and again till you have understood the point. The subject is an important one and the explanation deserves to be carefully grasped. It is easy to grasp, and once it is grasped you will be able to deduce many other consequences from it. It is undoubtedly true that my approach to the problem attacks certain generally accepted beliefs. But I do believe that we, that is Hindus, have become so full of cowardice and inertia that the true essence of ahimsa is forgotten and the thing has come to be identified with superficial concern for the lives of lower creatures. In its essence, ahimsa is a powerful emotion of the heart which finds expression in numerous forms of service. If it manifests itself in its perfection even in one human being, its light would be far more powerful than that of the sun. But where do we find such ahimsa today? 5

Can we kill a snake? Can we use violence against a ruffian attempting to rape a woman? Can we plough a field, though knowing that we kill germs thereby? A votary of ahimsa need not concern himself with such problems. Let them solve themselves when they will. If we lose ourselves in this labyrinth, we shall forget ahimsa. Those who are sincere in their desire to follow ahimsa will examine their own hearts and look at their neighbours. If one finds ill will and hatred in one’s heart, one may know that one has not climbed the first step towards the goal of ahimsa. If a person does not observe ahimsa in his relations with his neighbours and his associates, he is thousands of miles away from ahimsa. A votary of ahimsa, therefore, should ask himself every day when retiring: “Did I speak harshly today to any co-worker? Did I give him inferior khadi and keep better khadi for myself? Did I give him imperfectly baked roti and reserve for myself a fully baked one? Did I shirk my duty and throw the burden on my co-worker? Did I neglect serving the neighbour who was ill today? Did I refuse water to a thirsty passer-by who asked for it?

Did I not care even to greet the guest who had arrived? Did I scold a labourer? Did I go on exacting work from him without thinking that he might be tired? Did I goad bullocks with spiked sticks? Did I get angry in the kitchen because the rice was half cooked?” All these are forms of intense violence. If we do not observe ahimsa spontaneously in such daily acts, we shall never learn to observe it in other fields and, if at all we seem to observe it, our ahimsa will be of little or no value. Ahimsa is a great force which is active every moment of our lives. It is felt in our every action and thought. He who takes care of his pennies may rest assured that his pound is safe. But he who does not take care of pennies will lose them, and as for the pound he never had it. 6

I think that the image of the Lord reclining on the Shesha has some mystic significance and does not contradict the idea of his being ceaselessly active. The word atandrita in that verse can only mean doing everything with perfect vigilance and without lethargy. It does not mean working all the twenty-four hours of the day. This can be said about God’s manner of working as contrasted with that of unenlightened human beings, and the verse only draws such a contrast. In truth, however, God is neither awake nor asleep. He neither does anything nor does nothing. It is therefore, not possible to compare Him with anything. After saying this, I may add that this is how I interpret the image of the Lord reclining on Shesha: that God is so perfectly free from fear that He can sleep soundly even with His head on the body of a snake. I interpret it thus for my own satisfaction and the meaning gives me strength. That is, if we are filled with perfect ahimsa, we would not feel the slightest fear even in the presence of a snake and, more than that, the snake would have no fear of us. 7

The greatest difficulties perhaps were encountered as regards the observance of ahimsa. There are problems of Truth, but it is not very hard to understand what Truth is. But in understanding ahimsa we every now and then find ourselves out of our depth. Ahimsa was discussed in the Ashram at greater length than any other subject. Even now the question often arises whether a particular act is violent or non-violent. And even if we know the distinction between violence and non-violence, we are often unable to satisfy the demand of nonviolence on account of weakness which cannot easily be overcome. Ahimsa means not to hurt any living creature by thought, word or deed, even for the supposed benefit of that creature. To observe this principle fully is impossible for men, who kill a number of living beings large and small as they breathe or blink or till the land. We catch and hurt snakes or scorpions for fear of being bitten and leave them in some out-of-the-way place if we do not kill them. Hurting them in this way may be unavoidable, but is clearly himsa as defined above. If I save the food I eat or the clothes I wear or the space I occupy, it is obvious that these can be utilized by someone else whose need is greater than mine. As my selfishness prevents him from using these things, my physical enjoyment involves violence to my poorer neighbour.

When I eat cereals and vegetables in order to support life that means violence done to vegetable life. Surrounded thus as I am by violence on all sides, how am I to observe non-violence? Fresh difficulties are bound to arise at every step as I try to do so. The violence described above is easily recognized as such but what about our being angry with one another? A teacher inflicting corporal punishment on his pupils, a mother taking her children to task, a man losing his temper in his intercourse with equals, all these are guilty of violence, and violence of a bad type, which is not easy to tackle. Violence is there where there is attachment on the one hand and dislike on the other. How are we to get rid of it? The first lesson therefore that we in the Ashram must learn is that although to sever some person’s head from his body for the sake of the country or the family or oneself is indeed a violent act, the subtle violence involved in injuring the feelings of other people day in and day out is possibly very much worse than that. Murders committed in the world will seem to be numerous when considered by themselves and not so numerous when compared with the number of deaths due to other causes; but the subtle violence involved in daily loss of temper and the like defies all attempts at calculation. We are constantly striving in the Ashram to deal with all these kinds of violence. All of us realize our own weakness.

All of us including myself are afraid of snakes, for instance. We therefore as a rule catch them and put them out of harm’s way. But if someone kills a snake out of fear, he is not taken to task. There was once a snake in the cowshed, and it was impossible to catch it where it was. It was a risky thing to keep the cattle there; the men also were afraid of working thereabouts. Maganlal Gandhi felt helpless and permitted them to kill that snake. I approved of his action when he told me about it. I believe that even if I had been there on the spot, I could not have done anything other than what he did. My intellect tells me that I must treat even a snake as my kinsman and at the risk of losing my life I must hold the snake in my hands and take it away from those who are afraid of it. But in my heart I do not harbour the necessary love, fearlessness and readiness to die of snake-bite. I am trying to cultivate all these qualities but have not still succeeded in the attempt. It is possible that if I am attacked by a snake, I may neither resist nor kill it. But I am not willing to place anyone else’s life in danger. Once in the Ashram the monkeys made a terrible nuisance of them and did extensive damage to the crops. The watchman tried to frighten them by making a show of hurling stones from a sling but in vain. He then actually threw stones and injured and crippled one of the monkeys. I thought this even worse than killing it. I therefore held discussions with co-workers in the Ashram, and finally we took the decision that if we could not get rid of the monkeys by gentle means short of wounding them, we must kill one or two of them and end the nuisance. Before this decision was taken there was a public discussion in the columns of Navajivan which may be consulted by the curious.

No one outside India thinks that one should not kill even a violent animal. Some individuals like St. Francis observed this rule, but the common people did not, so far as I am aware. The Ashram believes in the principle, but it is a pity that we have not succeeded in putting it into practice. We have not still acquired the art of doing this. It is possible that many men will have to lay down their lives before this art is mastered. For the present it is only a consummation devoutly to be wished for. The principle has long been accepted in India but the practice is very imperfect on account of our laziness and self-deception. Mad dogs are killed in the Ashram, the idea being that they die after much suffering and never recover. Our people torture mad dogs instead of killing them and deceive themselves into thinking that they observe non-violence. As a matter of fact they only indulge in greater violence. Non-violence sometimes calls upon us to put an end to the life of a living being. For instance a calf in the Ashram dairy was lame and had developed terrible sores; it could not eat and breathed with difficulty. After three days’ argument with myself and my coworkers, I had poison injected into its body and thus put an end to its life. That action was non-violent, because it was wholly unselfish inasmuch as the sole purpose was to achieve the calf’s relief from pain.

It was a surgical operation, and I should do exactly the same thing with my child, if he were in the same predicament. Many Hindus were shocked at this, but their reaction to the incident only betrays their ignorance of the nature of ahimsa, which has for us long ceased to be a living faith, and has been degraded into formalities complied with when not very inconvenient. Here we must take leave of the Ashram experiments with ahimsa as regards sub-human species. Ahimsa as regards sub-human life is from the Ashram point of view an important aspect but still only one aspect of this comprehensive principle. Our dealings with our fellow-men are still more important than that. The commonest form of human intercourse is either violent or non-violent. Fortunately for humanity nonviolence pervades human life and is observed by men without special effort. If we had not borne with one another, mankind would have been destroyed long ago. Ahimsa would thus appear to be the law of life, but we are not thus far entitled to any credit for observing it. Whenever there is a clash of ephemeral interests, men tend to resort to violence. But with a deliberate observance of non-violence a person experiences a second birth or ‘conversion’. We in the Ashram are out to observe ahimsa intelligently. In so doing we meet with numerous obstacles, disappointments and trials of faith. We may not be satisfied with observing ahimsa in deed only. Not to think badly of anyone, not to wish ill to him though we have suffered at his hands, not to hurt him even in thought, this is an uphill task, but therein lays the acid test of our ahimsa. Thieves have visited the Ashram from outside, and there have been thieves in the Ashram itself. But we do not believe in inflicting punishment on them. We do not inform the police; we put up with the losses as best we may. This rule has been infringed at times. A thief was once caught red-handed by day. The Ashramites who caught him bound him with a rope and treated him contemptuously. I was in the Ashram at the time.

I went to the thief, rebuked him and set him free. But as a matter of fact ahimsa demands from us something more than this. We must find out and apply methods which would put a stop to thieving altogether. For one thing we must diminish the number of our ‘possessions’ so as not to tempt others. Secondly we must bring about a reformation in the surrounding villages. And thirdly the Ashram ministry should be extended in scope so that the bad as well as the good would learn to look upon the Settlement as their own. We thus find that it is impossible for a man with ‘possessions’ to observe ahimsa even in the gross meaning of that term. A man of property must adopt measures for its security involving the punishment of whoever tries to steal it. Only he can observe ahimsa that holds nothing as his own and works away in a spirit of total detachment. If there are many such individuals and organizations in society, violence will not be much in evidence. As gunpowder has a large place in a society based on violence and a soldier who can handle it with skill becomes entitled to honour and rewards, even so in a non-violent society self-suffering and self-control are its ‘munitions of war’, and persons endowed with these qualities are its natural protectors. The world at large has not still accepted ahimsa in this sense. India has accepted it more or less but not in a comprehensive manner. The Ashram holds that ahimsa should be universal in scope, and that society can be built up on the foundations of ahimsa. It conducts experiments with this end in view, but these have not been very successful. I have been unable to cite in this chapter much that would hearten the votary of ahimsa. This does not apply of course to ahimsa as applied to politics, to which I propose to devote a separate chapter.

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