Satyagraha – the abused spiritual weapon – By Hemantha Abeywardena
Mahatma Gandhi with Jawaharlal Nehru (Image Source: archives.dailynews.lk)
Source:- dailynews.lk
If you have a penchant for reading, grab a local or regional newspaper from South Asia and you hardly miss this news: a folk switching to fasting mode to fight for his rights – lost, abused or existence of which he was unaware, until he had a brainwave or a lawyer did a wink at him.
It is worth looking into the fact how this phenomenon caught on, in the Indian subcontinent; so soon and so fast.
The influence of fashion industry sheds some light on this mystery. Teenage boys in the Western capitals, now put on a special form of trousers: it is a cross between the old-bell bottom and the garment worn by prison inmates, something to be worn far below the waist line.
Follow a youth in this particular garment from behind and you will be anxious to avoid an embarrassing spectacle before your eyes – the trousers appear to be hanging by a thread, as it exposes, what the rebellious youth so jealously conceals underneath it.
Catching-on
Why do our youth wear this garment that virtually handicaps their god-given gift of walking freely, without a limp? The fashion industry calls it the catching-on effect. The choice of our youth does not matter, really.
The catching-on effect explains why our South Asian folks resort to Satyagraha, not necessarily as the last resort, when their very existence, salary increase or employment is threatened. It is well-known, well-heard and above all, has a ring of piety to it.
So, it catches on. Satyagraha is practised by a wide range of human beings of all walks of life, from common criminals to aspiring politicians, in the Indian subcontinent.
For instance, in our own country, Sri Lanka, if an individual is threatened with the sack by his employer, all he has to do is to climb up a tall building and switch on his fasting mode: it grabs a headline; the individual shows the signs of starvation and dehydration; fellow folks flock en masse to see the spectacle; women shed tears and the main player wins his demand and brings the exercise to a close on a happy note – a very happy, one indeed.
No wonder, we love to indulge in Satyagraha. It works. If a politician is forced to do it, it has a much wider audience – blind followers, television crews, journalists, swarms of green flies, to name but a few.
Success
Statistically speaking, Satyagraha has a success rate that is far higher than that of the possibility of being run over by an errant driver on a Sri Lankan highway, for being on the wrong side, because drivers are very careful these days.
They know the nature of the outcome if they make their contribution to this ugly event; their fate – life or death – is determined by the sole factor of how fast the hapless men can run towards the nearest police station before a lynch mob catches up.
Satyagraha is not something to poke fun at, or abuse though; it is serious, because we conveniently overlook its spiritual significance.
The great Indian sage, Mahatma Gandhi, popularly known as Gandhiji, invented it. On his first return from South Africa, after a very successful campaign against the ill-treatment of the Indians, he was compelled to intervene in an industrial dispute that involved a powerful textile baron and his workforce.
Gandhiji was in deep thought as to how to bring about an amicable settlement to the dispute, and he hit upon the idea; it came in a flash, on a certain day, early in the morning. The greatest of all spiritual weapons – the Satyagraha – was born.
However, Gandhiji did not show any excitement with his discovery, because he was not ambitious.
Being a living saint, he never indulged in Satyagraha for personal gains, because he didn’t have any, the kind of things, that we, earthly mortals, so eager to have.
Ritual
Before, starting a Satyagraha, he followed a certain routine that borders on a ritual, in strict literary sense: at first, there was a need for it, when his conscience troubled him on a certain issue; then he would go on fasting for a day or two, followed by, observing a period of solitude, during which he would wait for what he proudly called his ‘still small voice,’ the inner voice – a form of intuitive message.
As soon as he got this signal, he would launch his Satyagraha to a devastating effect that defied both reason and logic, by taking the contemporary political establishment by storm.
The Empire where the sun never set, saw cracks appearing all over. The freedom struggle had its much-needed impetus.
Great sage
How many of our folks follow this ritual before making use of this great weapon? May be none. Simply because either they do not know the story behind it due to ignorance or they conveniently assume it was not the case.
Who can be bothered to do fasting for days, when there are better ways to spin it to suit for individual needs? I am a fan of the great sage Gandhiji and just a member of a fan club that can claim millions in the membership.
Therefore, when meat-eating, liquor-tasting folks indulge in this spiritual act, eclipsing its saintly inventor, I get angry and frustrated. So my first thoughts just cross the border of non-violence, for a brief incursion into the other-side. As far as I know, the only politician who made a reference to this great man, while admiring this weapon was, late J.R. Jayewardene.
Gandhiji is now in the sphere that is allocated for the saints of his kind that is just above our atmosphere. I wish he temporarily came down, took the form of a wasp and stung the folks, at a place in their anatomy, where it really hurt, who indulged in this great spiritual exercise for all the wrong reasons.
The first weapon invented by man was a spear and his rival matched it by the invention of a shield. The former lost his advantage and the latter thought it was the end of warfare. They both got it wrong and the ugly concept of arms-race was born amidst the fanfare of sabre rattling.
However, no one has ever invented something to complement Gandhiji’s spiritual weapon – Satyagraha. I wish its abusers noted its significance, both spiritual and moral.
It is ironic that Gahdhiji’s main fans are in the West which he fought against. If you walk into a library, there are volumes of books that dissect his struggle with surgical precision. It is sad that even in his own country he is pushed into a legion of mere historic figures.
I still cannot forgive the taxi driver who took me to Birla Mandhir, when I told him in no uncertain terms, the place I wanted to see was Birla House, where Gandhiji wound up his campaign, leaving millions in eternal tears, when I was in New Delhi, recently. I know it is not Ahimsa, but I am a great fan of this one-in-a-million human being. I simply can’t help it.
Asian Tribune
