Nonviolence: The History of a Dangerous Idea Page 2
While the Buddhist interdiction on taking life was frequently interpreted in China as a condemnation of militarism, this was not the case in medieval Japan. In Japan Buddhism developed the “meditation school” commonly known as Zen. In the Middle Ages, Zen monks became warriors and monasteries became military fortresses. The original idea of Zen was the suppression of the body in order to reach a higher level of meditation. In the fourteenth century the technique was applied not only to meditation but to swords-manship and archery. Three centuries later, Zen had become an integral part of the warrior code in Japan. This was neither the first nor last incident of a religion being perverted for military purposes.
In Buddhism, as in Hinduism, there is the notion of humans reaching higher levels, and one of the ways this is accomplished is by rendering aid to all beings. But Buddhism is not the only source of nonviolent thinking in China. The position on war and nonviolence in Confucianism, a belief system developed in China from 722 to 484 B.C., is even more vague than in Hinduism. It is not even clear that Confucianism is a religion. Many prefer to describe it as a moral philosophy. Nor is there agreement on the extent of the role of Confucius, whose real name was Kong Fuzi, a contemporary of Buddha, who lived between 551 and 479 B.C. The Analects, a compilation of Confucius's sayings that was assembled long after his death, defined the function of government as providing food and troops and earning the people's confidence. Asked which could be suspended in hard times, he answered, “Dispense with the troops.” This idea that military is essential to government but less essential than other functions runs throughout The Analects.
Confucius was not a pacifist, nor did he teach the power of non-violence. But The Analects also at times rejects the notion of state violence, saying, “If good men were to administer the government for a hundred years, violence could be overcome and capital punishment dispensed with.” And when the question comes up of how to deal with neighboring barbarians, the standard rationale for military campaigns in China, the reply in The Analects is: “If the distant peoples do not submit, then build up culture and character and so win them, and when they have been won give them security.” It is a succinct statement of the nonviolent approach to political activism.
But the strongest Chinese stand on nonviolence came in opposition to Confucius, from a man named Mozi, who lived from about 470 to 390 B.C. Mozi frequently attacked Confucianists for being aristocrats, which has led some scholars to conclude that he came from a class of slaves. But like other rebels, including Jesus and Gandhi, he may have chosen to throw in with the poorest class as a protest against their unfair treatment. While Confucius was a voice of the establishment, Mozi was a rebel. While Confucius envisioned a hierarchy of love in which the greatest affection was given to family, Mozi called for universal love, chien ai, and emphasized helping the poor. Mozi described the concept of chien ai: “He throws me a peach, I return him a plum.”
Mozi saw this concept of mutual love, chien ai, as the key to righting the world's ills.
Whence come disorders? They arise from lack of mutual love. The son loves himself and does not love his father and so cheats his father for his own gain; the younger brother loves himself and does not love his father and so cheats his elder brother for his own gain. The same applies to the state officers and their overlords. This is what the world calls disorder. In the same way the father loves himself and not his son and cheats his son for his own profit, and so likewise with the elder brother and the overlord. This all comes from the lack of mutual love. Their case is the same as that of robbers and brigands who likewise love their own households, but not the homes of others and so rob others' homes for the benefit of their own. Like unto these, too, are state officers and princes who make war on other countries—because they love their own country but not other countries, and so seek to profit their own country at the expense of others. The ultimate cause of all disorders in the world is the lack of mutual love.
Mozi goes on to make a point that was later voiced in Judaism by the first-century A.D. rabbi Hillel and reiterated by his contemporary, Jesus, who called it the Golden Rule. Mozi wrote:
For if every man were to regard the persons of others as his own person, who would inflict pain and injury on others? If they regarded the homes of others as their own homes, who would rob others' homes? Thus in that case there would be no brigands or robbers. If the princes regarded other countries as their own, who would wage war on other countries? Thus in that case there would be no more war.
Chinese comes closer than most languages to a word for non-violence. In Taoism there is a concept embodied in the word teh.Not exactly nonviolence, which is an active force, teh is the virtue of not fighting—nonviolence is the path to teh.
Taoism is centered on the fifth-century B.C. teachings of Lao Tsu, who is thought to be the author of the Tao te ching, The Cannon of the Way and Virtue. Tao itself is an untranslatable word, often mentioned in The Analects. It is a balancing force sometimes said to be what keeps nature from tumbling into chaos. It says in the Tao te ching, “The ruler imbued with the Tao will not use the force of arms to subdue other countries.” But it adds that a country should have a military force for defense and that its preparedness will be a deterrent. The military should be “ready but not boastful.” This half-road to nonviolence is not nonviolence at all, since all of history shows that nations who build military forces as deterrents eventually use them—a disturbing lesson in an age of “nuclear deterrents.”
But there is in Tao, as in Hinduism, the notion that human beings evolve and the more highly evolved human beings do not need physical violence. “The skillful knight is not warlike. The skilled strategist is never angry. He who is skilled in overcoming his enemies does not join battle.”
In Taoism teh is a perfection of nature, and, as in Hinduism, it is something few people have the strength and character to live up to. The concept is echoed in Christianity by such notions as the meek being blessed and the last being first. Teh holds that:
In nature the softest overcomes the strongest. There is nothing in the world so weak as water. But nothing can surpass it in attacking the hard and strong; there is no way to alter it. Hence weakness overcomes strength, softness overcomes hardness. The world knows this but is unable to practice it.
Eastern religions, which Westerners tend to regard as ethereal and only workable for the dreamiest of idealists, actually have a pragmatic side. They recognize that violence is wrong, that nonviolence is the path that ought to be taken, but they also recognize that humans are weak and imperfect and that only a few of the most evolved and extraordinary among us will choose that path and stay with it.
Judaism, a religion that is more than 5,700 years old, has many layers of both laws and commentaries on those laws. It is full of seeming contradictions, including on the subject of violence. Rabbis attempt to resolve the contradictions by ascribing priorities— certain writings are more important than others, some doctrines, some practices, some beliefs take precedence over others. Of course the arguments about which writings take precedence are without end. In Judaism there is usually room for arguments, but there are a few inviolable laws. Monotheism is the central tenet of the religion and there are no exceptions or variations, nor is any form of idolatry tolerated. It is also universally accepted that the ten commandments that are said to have been handed to Moses by God on Mount Sinai are a central and leading set of nonnegotiable laws. The first of these commandments is monotheism and the second forbids idolatry. The sixth commandment is “You shall not kill.” It is one of the shortest commandments and offers no commentary, explanation, or variations. It does not say, as many Jews claim, “except in self-defense,” nor does it say “except when absolutely necessary.” It is one of the most plain declarative sentences in the Bible. But those who wish to kill can take refuge in lesser writings. The Old Testament is full of accounts of warfare and even justifications for them. This does not change the fact that the central law states “no killing.” Th
roughout the rest of the Bible, among all the battles and bloodshed, are other messages. The dictum in the book of Leviticus, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” is also considered central to the religion.
The ancient Jews did engage in warfare, but they apparently never felt comfortable about it. Unlike so many modern cultures, they did not celebrate military victories. The only holiday on the Jewish calendar that celebrates a military triumph is Chanukah. It is a postbiblical holiday celebrating the 166 B.C. victory of a guerrilla army led by the Maccabees against the Seleucid rulers of Palestine who, with the support of some Jews, had tried to dilute traditional Jewish practice. Rabbis were never comfortable with this holiday, and the writings that record it were not kept with sacred text and have only survived in Greek translation, the language of the defeated. Chanukah was always a minor holiday of very limited religious significance until modern times, when two things happened to change its role. In the 1890s, with the growth of Zionism, Chanukah was promoted because it celebrated the Jewish military conquest of Jerusalem. Like the Zen monks, the Zionists knew how to use religion in the quest for political power. Today in Israel it is virtually a political holiday.
Chanukah's popularity continued to grow, though it is still not considered a religious holiday, and it has been given new importance in modern times by retail merchants eager to sell gift items to Jews during the Christmas season. The traditional time of year for giving children gifts in the Jewish calendar used to be Purim, which falls at the end of winter. While not celebrating a military victory, this holiday is also bloodied by the hanging of the wicked Haman and his cohorts at the city gates and the slaughter of 75,000 Persians. Centuries of commentaries have discussed the unseemly grisliness of this story. But while most Jewish holidays are somber, Purim is intended to be a time for silliness, a bit like the pre-Lenten Mardi Gras in Catholicism. Drunkenness is encouraged, as is ridiculing revered scholars. The story of the book of Esther is retold on Purim intentionally as a farcical, overblown melodrama in which the good guys are cheered and the bad guys booed. Scholars and rabbis point out that “God is not present” in the story of Purim. The book of Esther is the only book in the Old Testament, aside from the love poem Song of Songs, in which God never appears. The characters do not pray, they do not ask God's help. God is not involved in this bloody operation. It has already been made plain that God does not want people to kill each other.
Generally Jewish holidays reject such violence. On Yom Kippur violence is among the sins for which to atone. On Passover, which celebrates Moses leading the Hebrews out of slavery in Egypt, there is a moment of sorrow for the Egyptians, the enemy who drowned trying to pursue the Hebrews across the Red Sea. Jews are instructed every year not to hate the Egyptians. It is a fundamental tenet of Judaism that you should not hate your enemies.
Judaism, too, teaches of the possibility of perfection. Someday, it is said, the perfect human, the Messiah, will come and show mankind the way to perfection. By tradition, the Jews were to return to Israel only when the Messiah appeared, not following World War II. Reform Judaism does not predict a Messiah but an entire messianic age. According to the angry prophet Isaiah, at some point in the future, when God is finally listened to, nations “shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks, nation shall not lift sword against nation, nor ever again be trained for war.”
Though most religions shun warfare and hold nonviolence as the only moral route toward political change, religion and its language have been co-opted by the violent people who have been governing societies. If someone were to come along who would not compromise, a rebel who insisted on taking the only moral path, rejecting violence in all its forms, such a person would seem so menacing that he would be killed, and after his death he would be canonized or deified, because a saint is less dangerous than a rebel. This has happened numerous times, but the first prominent example was a Jew named Jesus.
II
If the force of arms is considered the only means of authority, it is not an auspicious instrument.
—LAO TSU,
the Tao te ching,fifth century B.C.
Jesus, like Mohammed after him, looked at the great complexity of Jewish law that had been layered over millennia and said that implanted in the law were certain clear precepts of right and wrong. Others offered the same clarity. Hillel, a Babylonian Jew who lived at about the same time as Jesus, also preached a message of simplicity. Like Mozi, Hillel was said to have come from particularly humble origins. He studied by climbing to the roof of the school, literally eavesdropping on lessons, because he had no money to register as a student. Hillel became the head rabbi of Palestine, from which position he constantly wrestled with the conservative rabbinate. In a stance that is unusual even today, he was extremely open to converts. One aspiring convert, apparently frustrated with the verbosity of Jewish law, challenged him to recite the Torah while standing on one foot. Hillel responded, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. The rest is commentary on this. Go and study.” Hillel's followers became the dominant political force among the Jews.
Jesus and his followers were clearly influenced by Hillel. Hillel's summary of the Torah became Jesus' “Golden Rule” in the Sermon on the Mount: “In everything, treat people the same way you want them to treat you, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Jesus taught the doctrines of Judaism. Where he differed was in priorities. As with traditional Judaism, his first priority was the love of God. But his number two was the love of man. Jesus believed that love should be given to all fellow humans unconditionally. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus' most succinct sermon, which he delivered seated, in the traditional manner of a rabbi, he made clear that he did not want to reject Judaism but to revive it and have its most important laws more rigorously observed. “Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill.” His first example was the interdiction against killing. But he went even further. Even being angry at a fellow human being was a sin. In Jesus' view of Jewish law, there was no room for violence of any kind, even emotional violence, and weapons, military, and war were clearly illegal. The righteous person who walked in God's path loved everyone, even his enemies.
Jesus was seen as dangerous because he rejected not only warfare and killing but any kind of force. Those in authority saw this as a challenge. How could there be authority without force? This was trouble for the rabbinate, and was even more trouble for the military occupiers, the Romans. Jesus built a following that was attracted to his uncompromising point of view—the kind of people who are called troublemakers. He was tortured to death by the Romans in a manner so grisly and violent, it was surely designed to repel his followers. But they insisted that Jesus had died forgiving his torturers.
Death by crucifixion is believed to be a Phoenician invention. Unarguably a horrifying death, it was thought by the Romans to be a humiliating and degrading one as well, and they did not use it on Roman citizens. Those first Christians would not have used the symbol of a cross, a weapon of violence, much less a crucifix, which was a depiction of violent death. They were led by a fisherman, and their symbol was a fish.
The early Christians persisted in an uncompromising and narrow interpretation of Jewish law. In the book of Matthew is written, “You have heard it said: An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say unto you, resist not him that is evil.” The rejected eye-foran-eye formula is not a peripheral piece of Jewish commentary, it is from the book of Exodus. Major Old Testament figures, including not only David but Samson, Joshua, and Gideon, were military men. But slowly the idea emerged among the followers of Jesus that they should hold Jewish law to a higher standard and that though warfare had been tolerated, it would be no longer.
A split, the first and probably the most important of many schisms in Christianity, occurred between Jesus' disciples Peter and Paul. Paul, whose original name was Saul, and Peter, who was originally named Simon, were both Jewish. But Pau
l, unlike Peter, was not one of Jesus' entourage and never knew him. While Peter was a fisherman in Galilee, Paul was a religious scholar from Asia Minor. And yet it was Peter, the fisherman, who wanted the followers of Jesus to remain Jewish and apply Jesus' teachings to the perfection of Judaism. Paul, the Hebraic scholar, wanted to open up Christianity to the world, pursuing converts wherever they were found, a most un-Jewish approach.
Under Paul's influence the Christians moved further away from the body of Judaism, further away from everyone. They became an odd and distinct cult on the outer margins of society, uncompromisingly dedicated to pacifism. Theirs was a unique antiwar posture. Even the pious and spartan Jewish sect known as the Essenes did not entirely denounce weapons.
The early Christians are the earliest known group that renounced warfare in all its forms and rejected all its institutions. This small and original group was devoted to antimilitarism, another concept, like nonviolence, that has no positive word. This anti-militarism was never expressed by Jesus, who, in fact, did not much address the issue of warfare, though he did denounce the violent overthrow of the Romans. Warmongering Christian fundamentalists have always clung to the absence of a specific stand on warfare, ignoring the obvious, which is that the wholesale institutionalized slaughter of fellow human beings is clearly a violation of the precise and literal teachings of Jesus. In the days of the great Western debate on slavery, slave owners used a similar argument—that Jesus had not said anything about slavery. But obviously the buying and selling of human beings would not constitute treating others as you would have them treat you.