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Learning from Mahatma Gandhi's mistakes
Dr. Koenraad Elst
Mahatma Gandhi is often praised as the man who defeated
British imperialism with non-violent agitation. It is still a delicate and
unfashionable thing to discuss his mistakes and failures, a criticism
hitherto mostly confined to Communist and Hindutva publications. But at
this distance in time, we shouldn't be inhibited by a taboo on criticizing
official India's patron saint.
Gandhiji's mistakes
Without attempting to approach completeness, we may sum
up as Gandhi's biggest political failures the following events:
(1) Recruiting Indian soldiers for the British war
effort in 1914-18 without setting any conditions, in the vain hope that
this unilateral gift to Britain would bring about sufficient goodwill in
London for conceding to India the status of a self-ruling dominion within
the British Empire, on a par with Canada or Australia. While it was
already off line for a pacifist to cooperate in such a wasteful war (as
contrasted with World War 2, to both sides a kind of holy war where
fundamental principles were at stake), Gandhiji's stance was also a
glaring failure of political skill, since he neglected to extract any
tangible gains for India in return for the thousands of Indian lives which
he sacrificed to British imperial interests.
(2) Committing the mobilisation potential of the
freedom movement to the Khilâfat agitation in 1920-22, again a
non-negotiated unilateral gift. The Khilafat movement was a tragicomical
mistake, aiming at the restoration of the Ottoman Caliphate against which
the Arabs had risen in revolt and which the Turks were dissolving, a
process completed with the final abolition of the institution of the
Caliphate in 1924. It was a purely retrograde and reactionary movement,
and more importantly for Indian nationalism, it was an intrinsically
anti-nationalist movement pitting specifically Islamic interests against
secular and non-Muslim interests. Gandhi made the mistake of hubris by
thinking he could reconcile Khilafatism and Indian nationalism, and he
also offended his Muslim allies (who didn't share his commitment to
non-violence) by calling off the agitation when it turned violent. The
result was even more violence, with massive Hindu-Muslim riots replacing
the limited instances of anti-British attacks, just as many level-headed
freedom fighters had predicted. Gandhiji failed to take the Khilafat
movement seriously whether at the level of principle or of practical
politics, and substituted his own imagined and idealized reading of the
Khilafat doctrine for reality.
(3) His autocratic decision to call off the mass
agitation for complete independence in 1931, imposed upon his mass
following and his close lieutenants against their wishes and better
judgment, in exchange for a few puny British concessions falling far short
of the movement's demands. His reputation abroad didn't suffer, but to
informed observers, he had thrown away his aura as an idealist leader
standing above petty politics; the Pact between Gandhi and Viceroy Lord
Irwin amounted to the sacrifice of a high national goal in favour of a
petty rise in status for the Congress. Also, every delay in the
declaration of Independence gave the emerging separatist forces the time
to organize and to strengthen their position.
(4) Taking a confused and wavering position vis-à-vis
India's involvement in World War 2. His initial refusal to commit India to
the war effort could have been justified on grounds of pacifist principle
as well as national pride (the Viceroy had committed India without
consulting the native leadership), but it was a failure because his
followers weren't following. Indian recruits and business suppliers of the
Army eagerly joined hands with the British rulers, thus sidelining Gandhi
into political irrelevance. By contrast, the Muslim League greatly
improved its bargaining positions by joining the war effort, an effect not
counterbalanced by the small Hindu Mahasabha's similar strategy. The
pro-Partition case which the Muslim League advocated was bolstered while
Gandhi's opposition to the imminent Partition was badly weakened. Gandhi
was humiliated by his impotence before the degeneration of his "Quit
India" agitation into violence and by ultimately having to come around to
a collaborationist position himself.
(5) Taking a confused and wavering position vis-à-vis
the Partition plan, including false promises to the Hindus of the
designated Pakistani areas to prevent Partition or at least to prevent
their violent expulsion. He chose not to use his weapon of a fast unto
death to force Mohammed Ali Jinnah into backing down from Partition, a
move which cast doubt on the much-touted bravery of all his other fasts
"unto death" performed to pressurize more malleable opponents. If
acquiescing in the Partition could still be justified as a matter of
inevitability, there was no excuse for his insistence on half measures,
viz. his rejecting plans for an organized exchange of population,
certainly a lesser evil when compared to the bloody religious cleansing
that actually took place. Gentle surgeons make stinking wounds.
(6) Refusing to acknowledge that Pakistan had become an
enemy state after its invasion of Kashmir, by undertaking a fast unto
death in order to force the Indian government to pay Pakistan 55 crore
rupees from the British-Indian treasury. Pakistan was entitled to this
money, but given its aggression, it would have been normal to set the
termination of its aggression, including the withdrawal of its invading
troops, as a condition for the payment. Indeed, that would have been a
sterling contribution to the cause of enduring peace, saving the lives of
the many thousands who fell in subsequent decades because of the festering
wound which Kashmir has remained under partial Pakistani occupation.
Coming on top of Gandhi's abandonment of the Hindus trapped in Pakistan in
August 1947, it was this pro-Pakistani demand, as well as his use of his
choice moral weapon (left unused to save India's unity or the persecuted
Hindus in Pakistan) in the service of an enemy state's treasury, that
angered a few Hindu activists to the point of plotting his murder.
Problems with pacifism
The common denominator in all these costly mistakes was
a lack of realism. Gandhi refused to see the realities of human nature; of
Islamic doctrine with its ambition of domination; of the modern mentality
with its resentment of autocratic impositions; of people's daily needs
making them willing to collaborate with the rulers in exchange for career
and business opportunities; of the nationalism of the Hindus who would
oppose the partition of their Motherland tooth and nail; of the nature of
the Pakistani state as intrinsically anti-India and anti-Hindu.
In most of these cases, Gandhi's mistake was not his
pacifism per se. In the case of his recruiting efforts for World War 1,
there wasn't even any pacifism involved, but loyalty to the Empire whether
in peace or in war. The Khilafat pogroms revealed one of the real problems
with his pacifism: all while riding a high horse and imposing strict
conformity with the pacifist principle, he indirectly provoked far more
violence than was in his power to control. Other leaders of the freedom
movement, such as Annie Besant and Lala Lajpat Rai, had warned him that he
was playing with fire, but he preferred to obey his suprarational "inner
voice".
The fundamental problem with Gandhi's pacifism, not in
the initial stages but when he had become the world-famous leader of
India's freedom movement (1920-47), was his increasing extremism. All
sense of proportion had vanished when he advocated non-violence not as a
technique of moral pressure by a weaker on a stronger party, but as a form
of masochistic surrender. Elsewhere (Elst: Gandhi and Godse, Voice
of India, Delhi 2001, p.120-121) I have cited four instances of his advice
to the victims of communal violence which is simply breathtaking for its
callousness in the face of human suffering. Two more instances follow.
During his prayer meeting on 1 May 1947, he prepared
the Hindus and Sikhs for the anticipated massacres of their kind in the
upcoming state of Pakistan with these words: "I would tell the Hindus to
face death cheerfully if the Muslims are out to kill them. I would be a
real sinner if after being stabbed I wished in my last moment that my son
should seek revenge. I must die without rancour. (*) You may turn round
and ask whether all Hindus and all Sikhs should die. Yes, I would say.
Such martyrdom will not be in vain." (Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi,
vol.LXXXVII, p.394-5) It is left unexplained what purpose would be served
by this senseless and avoidable surrender to murder.
Even when the killing had started, Gandhi refused to
take pity on the Hindu victims, much less to point fingers at the
Pakistani aggressors. More importantly for the principle of non-violence,
he failed to offer them a non-violent technique of countering and
dissuading the murderers. Instead, he told the Hindu refugees from
Pakistan to go back and die. On 6 August 1947, Gandhiji commented to
Congress workers on the incipient communal conflagration in Lahore thus:
"I am grieved to learn that people are running away from the West Punjab
and I am told that Lahore is being evacuated by the non-Muslims. I must
say that this is what it should not be. If you think Lahore is dead or is
dying, do not run away from it, but die with what you think is the dying
Lahore. (*) When you suffer from fear you die before death comes to you.
That is not glorious. I will not feel sorry if I hear that people in the
Punjab have died not as cowards but as brave men. (*) I cannot be forced
to salute any flag. If in that act I am murdered I would bear no ill will
against anyone and would rather pray for better sense for the person or
persons who murder me." (Hindustan Times, 8-8-1947, CWoMG,
vol. LXXXIX, p.11).
So, he was dismissing as cowards those who saved their
lives fleeing the massacre by a vastly stronger enemy, viz. the Pakistani
population and security forces. But is it cowardice to flee a no-win
situation, so as to live and perhaps to fight another day? There can be a
come-back from exile, not from death. Is it not better to continue life as
a non-Lahorite than to cling to one's location in Lahore even if it has to
be as a corpse? Why should staying in a mere location be so superior to
staying alive? To be sure, it would have been even better if Hindus could
have continued to live with honour in Lahore, but Gandhi himself had
refused to use his power in that cause, viz. averting Partition. He
probably would have found that, like the butchered or fleeing Hindus, he
was no match for the determination of the Muslim League, but at least he
could have tried. In the advice he now gave, the whole idea of non-violent
struggle got perverted.
Originally, in Gandhi's struggle for the Indians'
rights in South Africa, non-violent agitation was tried out as a weapon of
the weak who wouldn't stand a chance in an armed confrontation. It was a
method to achieve a political goal, and a method which could boast of some
successes. In the hands of a capable agitator, it could be victorious. It
was designed to snatch victory from the jaws of powerlessness and
surrender. By contrast, the "non-violent" surrender to the enemy and to
butchery which Gandhi advocated in 1947 had nothing victorious or
successful about it.
During the anti-colonial struggle, Gandhi had often
said that oppression was only possible with a certain cooperation or
complicity from the oppressed people. The genius of the non-violent
technique, not applicable in all situations but proven successful in some,
was to create a third way between violent confrontation between the
oppressed and the oppressor, fatally ending in the defeat of the weak, and
the passive resignation of the oppressed in their state of oppression.
Rather than surrendering to the superior power of the oppressor, the
oppressed were given a method to exercise slow pressure on their
oppressor, to wrest concessions from him and to work on his conscience. No
such third way was left to the minorities in Pakistan: Gandhi's only
advice to them was to surrender, to become accomplices in their
extermination by meekly offering their necks to the executioner's sword.
My point is not that Gandhi could and should have given
them a third way, a non-violent technique that would defeat the
perpetrators of Partition and religious cleansing. More realistically, he
should have accepted that this was the kind of situation where no such
third option was available. Once the sacrifice of a large part of India's
territory to a Muslim state had been conceded, and given previous
experiences with Muslim violence against non-Muslims during the time of
Gandhi's own leadership, he should have realized that an exchange of
population was the only remaining bloodless solution. The Partition crisis
was simply beyond the capacity of Gandhian non-violence to control. If he
had had the modesty to face his powerlessness and accept that alternatives
to his own preferred solution would have to be tried, many lives could
have been saved.
Robust pacifism
It cannot be denied that Gandhian non-violence has a
few successes to its credit. But these were achieved under particularly
favourable circumstances: the stakes weren't very high and the opponents
weren't too foreign to Gandhi's ethical standards. In South Africa, he had
to deal with liberal British authorities who weren't affected too
seriously in their power and authority by conceding Gandhi's demands.
Upgrading the status of the small Indian minority from equality with the
Blacks to an in-between status approaching that of the Whites made no real
difference to the ruling class, so Gandhi's agitation was rewarded with
some concessions. Even in India, the stakes were never really high.
Gandhi's Salt March made the British rescind the Salt Tax, a limited
financial price to pay for restoring native acquiescence in British
paramountcy, but he never made them concede Independence or even Home Rule
with a non-violent agitation. The one time he had started such an
agitation, viz. in 1930-31, he himself stopped it in exchange for a few
small concessions.
It is simply not true that India's Independence was the
fruit of Gandhian non-violent agitation. He was close to the British in
terms of culture and shared ethical values, which is why sometimes he
could successfully bargain with them, but even they stood firm against his
pressure when their vital interests were at stake. It is only Britain's
bankruptcy due to World War 2 and the emergence of the anti-colonial
United States and Soviet Union as the dominant world powers that forced
Clement Attlee's government into decolonising India. Even then, the
trigger events in 1945-47 that demonstrated how the Indian people would
not tolerate British rule for much longer, had to do with armed struggle
rather than with non-violence: the naval mutiny of Indian troops and the
ostentatious nationwide support for the officers of Subhas Bose's
Axis-collaborationist Indian National Army when they stood trial for
treason in the Red Fort.
So, non-violence need not be written off as a Quixotic
experiment, for it can be an appropriate and successful technique in
particular circumstances; but it has its limitations. In many serious
confrontations, it is simply better, and on balance more just as well as
more bloodless, to observe an "economy of violence": using a small amount
of armed force, or even only the threat of armed force, in order to avoid
a larger and bloodier armed confrontation. This is the principle of "peace
through strength" followed by most modern governments with standing
armies. It was applied, for example, in the containment of Communism:
though relatively minor wars between Communist and anti-Communist forces
were fought in several Third World countries, both the feared Communist
world conquest and the equally feared World War 3 with its anticipated
nuclear holocaust were averted.
The ethical framework limiting the use of force to a
minimum is known as "just war theory", developed by European thinkers such
as Thomas Aquinas and Hugo Grotius between the 13 th
and 18th century, but in essence already present in the Mahabharata as
well. Thus, waging war can be a just enterprise when it is done in self-defence,
when all non-violent means of achieving the just objective have been
tried, when non-combatants are respected as such, when the means used are
in proportion to the objective aimed for, etc.
One of the less well-known criteria for just warfare
which deserves to be mentioned here in the light of Gandhi's advice to the
Hindus in Pakistan is that there should be a reasonable chance of success.
No matter how just your cause, it is wrong to commit your community to a
course of action that only promises to be suicidal. Of course, once a
group of soldiers is trapped in a situation from which the only exit is an
honourable death, fighting on may be the best course remaining, but
whenever possible, such suicide should be avoided. This criterion is just
as valid in non-armed as in armed struggle: it was wrong to make the
Hindus stay among their Pakistani persecutors when this course of action
had no chance of saving lives nor even of achieving certain political
objectives.
As the Buddha, Aristotle, Confucius and other ethical
guides already taught, virtue is a middle term between two extremes. In
this case, we have to sail between the two extremes of blindness to human
fellow-feeling and blindness to strategic ground realities. It is wrong to
say that might makes right and that anything goes when it comes to
achieving victory, no matter what amount of suffering is inflicted on the
enemy, on bystanders or even on one's own camp. It is equally wrong to
strike a high moral posture which haughtily disregards, and hence refuses
to contain or subdue, the potential for violence in human confrontations
and the real pain it causes. In between these two extremes, the mature and
virtuous attitude is one which desires and maintains peace but is able and
prepared to fight the aggressor.
Limiting the use of force to a minimum is generally
agreed to be the correct position. In this case, disagreeing with Gandhi
is not an instance of Communist or Hindu-chauvinist extremism, but of the
accumulated wisdom of civilized humanity. Excluding the use of force
entirely, by contrast, may simply whet the aggressor's appetite and
provoke far more violence than the achievable minimum. This is a mistake
which an overenthusiastic and inexperienced beginner can forgivably make,
but in an experienced leader like Mahatma Gandhi during his time at the
head of the freedom movement, it was a serious failure of judgment. The
silver lining in the massacres which his mistakes provoked, is that they
have reminded us of the eternal wisdom of "the golden mean", the need for
a balanced policy vis-à-vis the ever-present challenge of violence and
aggression. It has been known all along, and it is crystal-clear once
more, that we should avoid both extremes, Jinnah's self-righteousness and
Gandhi's sentimentalism.
(January 2004) |
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