(1906-1908: On
Nationalism, pp. 360-364)
AGES
AGO there was a priest of Baal who thought himself commissioned by the
god to
kill all who did not bow the knee to him. All men, terrified by the
power and
ferocity of the priest, bowed down before the idol and pretended to be
his
servants; and the few who refused had to take refuge in hills and
deserts. At
last a deliverer came and slew the priest and the world had rest. The
slayer
was blamed by those who placed religion in quietude and put passivity
forward
as the ideal ethics, but the world looked on him as an incarnation of
God.
A certain class of minds
shrink from aggressiveness as if it were a sin. Their
temperament forbids them
to feel the delight of battle and they look on what they cannot
understand as
something monstrous and sinful. "Heal hate by love, drive out injustice
by
justice, slay sin by righteousness" is their cry. Love is a sacred
name,
but it is easier to speak of love than to love. The love which drives
out hate,
is a divine quality of which only one man in a thousand is capable. A
saint
full of love for all mankind possesses it, a philanthropist consumed
with the
desire to heal the miseries of the race possesses it, but the mass of
mankind
do not and cannot rise to that height. Politics is concerned with
masses of
mankind and not with individuals. To ask masses of mankind to act as
saints, to
rise to the height of divine love and practise it in relation to their
adversaries or oppressors is to ignore human nature. It is to set a
premium on
injustice and violence by paralysing the hand of the deliverer when
raised to
strike. The Gita is the best answer to those who shrink from battle as
a sin
and aggression as a lowering of morality.
A poet of
sweetness and
love who has done much to awaken
Hinduism recognizes
human nature and makes no such impossible demand. It sets one
ideal for the
saint, another for the man of action, a third for the trader, a fourth
for the
serf. To prescribe the same ideal for
all is to bring about varNasankara
the
confusion of duties, and destroy society and the race. If we are
content to be
serfs, then indeed boycott is a sin for us, not because it is a
violation of
love, but because it is a violation of the Sudra's duty of obedience
and
contentment. Politics is the field of the Kshatriya and the morality of
the
Kshatriya ought to govern our political actions. To impose on politics the Brahminical
duty of saintly sufferance, is to preach varNasankara.
Love has a
place in
politics, but it is the love for one's country, for one's countrymen,
for the
glory, greatness and happiness of the race, the divine aananda of
self-immolation for one's fellows, the ecstacy of relieving their
sufferings,
the joy of seeing one's blood flow for country and freedom, the bliss
of union
in death with the fathers of the race. The feeling of almost physical
delight
in the touch of the mother soil, of the winds that blow from Indian
seas, of
the rivers that stream from Indian hills, in the sight of Indian
surroundings,
Indian men, Indian women, Indian children, in the hearing of Indian
speech,
music, poetry, in the familiar sights, sounds, habits, dress, manners
of our
Indian life, this is the physical root of that love. The pride in our
past, the
pain of our present, the passion for the future are its trunk and
branches.
Self-sacrifice, self-forgetfulness, great service and high endurance
for the
country are its fruit. And the sap which keeps it alive is the
realisation of
the Motherhood of God in the country, the vision of the Mother, the
knowledge
of the Mother, the perpetual contemplation, adoration and service of
the
Mother.
Other love
than this is
foreign to the motives of political action. Between nation and nation
there is
justice, partiality, chivalry, duty but not love. All love is either
individual
or for the self in the race or for the self in mankind. It may exist
between
individuals of different races, but the
love of one race for another is a thing
foreign to nature. When, therefore, the Boycott as declared by
the lndian race
against the British is stigmatised for want of love, the charge is bad
psychology as well as bad morality. It is interest warring against
interest,
and hatred is directed not really against the race but against the
adverse
interest. If the British exploitation were to cease tomorrow, the
hatred
against the British race would disappear in a moment. A partial adhyaaropa
makes
the ignorant for the moment see in the exploiters and not in the
exploitation
the receptacle of the hostile feeling. But like all Maya it is an
unreal and
fleeting sentiment and is not shared by those who think. Not hatred
against
foreigners, but antipathy to the evils of foreign exploitation is the
true root
of Boycott.
If hatred is
demoralising, it is also stimulating. The
web of life has been made a mingled
strain of good and evil and God works His ends through the evil as well
as
through the good. Let us discharge our minds of hate, but let us
not deprecate
a great and necessary movement because, in the inevitable course of
human
nature, it has engendered feelings of hostility and hatred. If hatred
came, it
was necessary that it should come as a stimulus, as a means of
awakening. When tamas,
inertia, torpor have benumbed a
nation, the strongest forms of rajas
are
necessary to break the spell, and there is no form of rajas so
strong as
hatred. Through rajas we rise to sattva, and
for the Indian
temperament, the transition does not take long. Already the element of
hatred
is giving place to the clear conception of love for the Mother as the
spring of
our political actions.
Another
question is the
use of violence in the furtherance of boycott. This is, in our view,
purely a
matter of policy and expediency. An act of violence brings us into
conflict
with the law and such a conflict maybe inexpedient for a race
circumstanced
like ours. But the moral question does not arise. The argument that to
use
violence is to interfere with personal liberty involves a singular
misunderstanding of the very nature of politics. The whole of politics
is an
interference with personal liberty. Law is such an interference,
Protection is
such an interference, the rule which makes the will of the majority
prevail is
such an interference. The right to
prevent such use of personal liberty as will
injure the interests of the race, is the fundamental law of society.
From this
point of view the nation is only using its primary right when it
restrains the
individual from buying or selling foreign goods.
It may be
argued that
peaceful compulsion is one thing and violent compulsion another. Social
boycott
may be justifiable, but not the burning or drowning of British goods.
The
latter method, we reply, is illegal and therefore may be inexpedient,
but it is
not morally unjustifiable. The morality of the Kshatriya justifies
violence in
times of war, and Boycott is a war. Nobody blames the Americans for
throwing
British tea into
Justice and
righteousness are the atmosphere of political morality, but the justice
and
righteousness of the fighter, not of the priest. Aggression is unjust only when
unprovoked, violence unrighteous when used wantonly or for unrighteous
ends. It
is a barren philosophy which applies a mechanical rule to all actions,
or takes
a word and tries to fit all human life into it. The sword of
the warrior
is as necessary to the fulfilment of justice and righteousness as the
holiness
of the saint. Ramdas is not complete
without Shivaji. To maintain justice and
prevent the strong from despoiling and the weak from being oppressed is
the.
function for which the Kshatriya was created. Therefore, says
Srikrishna in the
Mahabharat, God created battle and armour, the sword, the bow and the
dagger.
Mankind is of a less
terrestrial mould than some would have him to be. He has an
element of the
divine which the practical politician ignores. The practical politician
looks
to the position at the moment and imagines that he has taken everything
into
consideration. He has indeed studied the surface and the immediate
surroundings, but he has missed what lies beyond material vision. He
has left
out of account the divine, the incalculable in man, that element which
upsets
the calculations of the schemer and disconcerts the wisdom of the
diplomat.