For most of life, I (like most people I know) have held Gandhi with the highest esteem that I have ever bestowed upon any person. In fact, I guess I did not even think of him as a person. Maybe an incarnation, or a saint to the least. He did give an appearance of sainthood, with the white piece of clothe he used to cover his body, the traditional slippers that I had only seen elsewhere in mythological series, his crouched posture as he held on to a wooden staff. And he led an entire nation with that.
And the words he spoke seemed no less than something that would come out of a saint’s mouth. “If someone slaps you, turn the other cheek.” He truly was an epitome of patience, perseverance for me.
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The creation of national heroes
Uptil my Seventh Grade, I learned of King Prithvi Narayan Shah whose foresight united the separated states into a single country. I learned of Bhimsen Thapa whose courage kept the British colonizers out of Nepal. I learned of King Tribhuvan who fled his own eternal house arrest to rid the country once and for all of the century-old ruthless Rana regime. Fast forward to today, we seem to have lost all of these national heroes from the national consciousness. We have removed the national holidays dedicated to them. We rarely talk about their contributions to the founding of the nation as we used to do.
What brought the fall of these national heroes? No, no historian uncovered a previously-unknown information about these individuals that put the entire nation to shame. What changed in the national consciousness has little to do with any actions that these national heroes could have taken in their lives. Fifteen years ago, a people’s revolution threw away monarchy from Nepal.
It is not a unique phenomenon. Everywhere when a major shift is power occurs, the national consciousness shifts against any member of the previous regime. It rarely has anything to do with the personality or actions of those people.
This pattern also highlights an important fact about national heroes. Many national heroes are created by the people for the people. A national figure gives us a sense of solace and inspiration. An entire nation can be united under such figures. That culminates in glorification, or “herofication” if you will, of certain individuals.
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A universal standard for resistance?
When I think of resistance, I think of Gandhi, who inspired an entire nation on a path of nonviolent resistance. I also think of leaders like Bhagat Singh, who lost their lives in the struggle, and like Nelson Mandela, who spent almost three decades in prison for this. When I think of resistance, I think of the guy who attempted to bomb Hitler, all on his own, and of the numerous front line resistors who died for the cause, but of whom we never learnt in our history classes. When I think of resistance, I think of the indigenous leaders who know well the risks they are undertaking in order to defend the land of their ancestors. I think of the million people who realize how fucked up this culture is, and want to do anything they can to change it. And of their family members, who may or may not believe in the cause, but who, nevertheless, provide the much needed emotional support that makes any form of resistance possible. When I think of resistance, I think of the mother who put her body in front of her child so that at least for a day, their batterer is not able to touch her child. And of the woman who was burnt alive by a mob for daring to report being raped by her school principle. When I think of resistance I think of the last pregnant female of an endangered species, putting all her might in ensuring that her child survives this increasingly hostile environment. I think of the grass that grows from the smallest creek of concrete. When I think of resistance, I think of the river flowing from the mountains, perhaps knowing quite well that she may not reach the ocean, that she may dry up even earlier than the last year, but yet she moves on her route.
Resistance is everywhere. Resilience is everywhere. Every being is capable of resisting in their own way. Some forms of resistance may be more effective than others. Some forms of resistance justify the means by the ends, others insist on high standards for means. There are some forms of resistance I personally agree with more than others. And that is the basis of the unique form of resistance I choose for myself. Not everyone needs to agree with my form of resistance. They can (and should) create a unique form of resistance for themselves.
To prefer one form of resistance (for oneself or for one’s organization) is understandable. To discard every other form of resistance is unstrategic, to say the least. As long as a form of resistance is strategic and just, it is unfair for anyone member to hold another’s resistance up to an arbitrary standard. It’s for the same reason that I cannot disparage a battered woman for not writing articles in favor of the environment. (Personally I would prefer if she left her abuser, but it is not up to me to force her to do so unless she is willing.)
When we glorify one movement, we inadvertently begin to develop arbitrary standards for all the movements that preceded and follow the said movement. This is what has happened with Gandhi’s nonviolent movement. The strategy that Gandhi used (nonviolence) has been internalized by many of my generation, and also the generations before me. It has become a yardstick with which we judge every other resistance. “If Gandhi could drive away the British without violence, why should any other group feel the need to resort to violence?” Nevermind, that the said violence was only a small part of an overall strategy. Nevermind the said violent act did not hurt any living creature, it could have destroyed a torture chamber for all we know, it still is a form of “violence” that should be discredited at all costs. Nevermind the said violent action was able to cease multiple future violent acts against the oppressed, the committer of the said violent action’s moral credibility is lost. Heck, if a woman who has been abused for decades by her husband kills her husband one fine day, she would be the one labeled as “immoral.” If she could prove that it was an act of self-defense, perhaps she could expect some leniency, if not to translate a vernacular saying, “she should not have taken the law into her hands.”