Thursday, November 28, 2013
Monday, November 25, 2013
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Banality of Evil, Thanks Napolean and Hitler for now we carry a big fucking stick.
(My teacher wanted us to apply Gandhi's satyagrajah nonviolent protests to America's retaliation to 9/11 and the war in Afghanistan, the following was my response.)
The problem with entire assignment is that the American government is taking on Terrorists, not an organized and recognized nation like Gandhi did in India's bid for freedom. Al-Quida has shown itself to have extremists views which do not reflect the beliefs of mainstream Muslims thus creating a highly volatile, violent, and prejudice sect of Islamic society which refuses to negotiate or act in a humane manner toward its own people let alone to foreign countries and cultures.
They have shown that they have very little regard for fellow Muslims, freedoms and power with in Al-quida influenced nations are beset by tribal prejudice, women in both the Muslim world as well as India have little to no freedoms, their worth and rights only defined in so far as it relates to a man, and worst of all Al-Quida’s chosen understanding of the 6th pillar of islam also known as Jihad is not a great spiritual struggle but a license to kill.
Many other nations that were not involved in America’s war on terror have been the target of Al-quidas extremist religious killing machine, and even if America had not gotten involved in the middle east whatsoever I believe Americans would still have suffered at the hands of these blood thirsty monsters. That’s right MONSTERS.
You wish for me to express that if America had not gotten involved in the middle east using the excuse of possible biological weapons then the Taliban and Al-Quida would not have sought to attack us. This is frankly the most naive stance I have heard and I am sick of hearing this throwback peaceful flowerchild hippy nonsense that everything will be alright if we “make love not war man”. Peaceful resistance in the face of an unreasonable and righteous enemy will only lead to the slaughter of innocence.
Some people are simply violent and unreasonable, these people are also usually religious fundamentalists who believe their license to kill is given to them directly from God. This is what the Taliban and Al-quida are, and it was only a matter of time before Americans living abroad or peaceful Americans at home, or one of our Allies would have (and indeed did) suffer at the hands of these agents of Terror.
Satyagrajah was part in parcel a creation based on the Muslim Jihad, but instead of taking it to the Al-Quida level of suicide bombing the “infidel” Gandhi wanted to discuss the greater struggle toward holy purity of India and the Indian people. To drive out the British Infidel to unite India under one banner, one brotherhood standing strong against foreign invaders. His teachings of peaceful resistance only worked because the British were facing Hitler and World War Two just like the real reason why the Colonialist Americans won the revolutionary war was because the British were facing a closer war against Napoleon, which was also why the Americans were able to obtain French ships which essentially cut off the British from the American ports in a form of threat and blockade. .
We can not apply the ideals and mindset of that day and situation to America’s war on terror as that would be like saying if the Jews and the Brits had just surrendered to Hitler like Gandhi told them to in his letter in 1942 that everything would have been ok.
Was America’s war on terror a double duty offensive fueled by our need for oil. Yes, of course it is, however this is the real world and in the real world America’s economy had been based on the fact that all crude oil sales had to be made in dollars, not Euro’s or rupee’s or swiss franks, but dollars. This meant America got a cut of every crude oil sale that was made no matter where the oil came from or went to. Thats called a monopoly kids and thats why America enjoyed a booming economy and our big cars for so long. When this rule of petrodollars ended America went to war, but that does not mean the only reason for that war was money.
Ideologically speaking America views itself as the great hero, the protector of the underdogs of the world, and as the only nation to ever to use an atomic bomb in actual combat we carry a considerably large stick. The threat of America has always been enough to get most countries in line to our more democratic view points, whether or not you agree with American politics one can not deny that no matter how misguided this ideology which we call “Manifest Destiny” has helped to bring countries that faced isolation, and suffering into the modern age.
Should we have stayed out of Afghanistan and let the terrorists reign supreme letting them plot and plan to take over more countries, to subjugate, mutilate, and miseducate their people? To kill and attack little girls like Malala Yousafzai who only wants to go to school peacefully without threat of bombings or being poisoned, something which these terrorists do daily in Afghanistan. Do we negotiate with these kind of people? Do we sit idly by and walk through the opium fields holding hands and make peaceful Heroin?
I’m sorry Gandhi’s peace was a product of time and chance, nothing more and nothing less. He got lucky because Hitler was on the march. This does not mean that Gandhi’s heart was not in the right place and he was not an excellent example to others because he was, but that simply put it was not because of Gandhi that India was freed, but that a greater and more imminent threat of violence at home presented itself to the British and made india not worth holding.
America’s occupation of Afghanistan and Iraq may not be for the purest of reasons and it may all end in nothing, but at least it is better than the banality of evil.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Mini K update
So when it rains it pours; I got my surgery done on the 29th, finally got results back and everything is fine. However very next day ( yesterday) I find out my Dad was taken to the Hospital by Ambulance after his heart stopped and he fell hitting his head. His heart is both over beating going to fast, and then seconds later was bottoming out. He was rushed to the best Hospital in the state and now he has a temporary pacemaker in, and is supposed to get a permanent one in today. Here' I am shackled to the fucking computer because I cant afford to take the time off I need to be there. Also it messes with your head to see superman suffering and royally pissed off at the effects of kryptonite. Hoping Daddys ok. :(
Friday, November 8, 2013
Photoshop weekly work by K
I have to spend the next 3 months on Gandhi....ugh!
"They live in wisdom who see themselves in all and all in them, who
have renounced every selfish desire and sense craving tormenting the
heart. Neither agitated by grief nor hankering after pleasure, they live
free from lust and fear and anger. Established in meditation, they are
truly wise. Fettered no more by selfish attachments, they are neither
elated by good fortune nor depressed by bad. Such are the seers."
Excerpt from The Bhagavad Gita
I'm sure I will shock My Professor a little bit with this little confession and perhaps some of you, knowing full well that my responses to many of these assignments have been a-light with anger, yet I tell you the above meditation has been the cornerstone of my spirituality since I was a girl of 12 when I fell in love with Hinduism.
One of my favorite Quotes of Gandhi's is the "Be the change you wish to see in the world." a sentiment which is highly reflective of Gandhi's Hindu upbringing. It is my fundamental spiritual belief that we are all one organism, each person, each life, each plant, animal, microorganism or monster we are all one being, and that being IS God.
I came to this startling epiphany during my own search for God, without the confines of church intervention I was able to academically guide my own search following those concepts which felt to me to be the most true.
In this book we are given the image of Gandhi seated in concentraited prayer listening to these lines from the Bhagavad Gita and I imagine he was actually trying to realize this connection to devinity. For it is only through great love can we be so enraged by the lack of it in others.
I believe the shaping of Gandhi the persona we idolize today that he obviously tried in the later portion of his life to cultivate was a direct result of two major contributing factors in his life. His time spent in Africa fighting on the side of the British force cleaning up the injured and the dead during the Zulu’s bid for Independence; and his mother’s deep interest in Jainism.
Jainism is one of the oldest religions in the world, indeed containing a rich library, the most literate followers in the world, and many of the ideals later followed by Gandhi are teachings of Jainists, who go so far in order to avoid even accidentally causing harm to even the lowliest of creature place a white card over their mouth and nose so they do not accidentally ingest anything living.
As Easwaran says Gandhi “sought to make himself Zero” that is to attain that state of perfection that is laid down in the Bhagavad Gita. Many religions teach that love is the answer but few warn us away from too much love. I do not mean lust, passion or desire, but I mean a truly null state of being; to live equally, to see clearly, to identify with all, and accept all with equality.
This is really only seen in the eastern religions and I am a firm believer that many of our wisest philosophical and religious minds which came into contact with this way of thought, from Jesus, Buddha, Dalai Lama, Gandhi and through Gandhi Martin Luther King Jr. we see an eventual broadening of the mind, an iris of understanding and perceiving that broadens their scope of brotherly love.
“Evil is only real in so far as we support it. The essence of holding onto truth is to withdraw support of what is wrong.” Gandhi was known to be a highly stubborn man, how could he not be with the goals he gave himself which he accomplished. A great will and stubbornness would be needed to starve oneself by choice, to traverse the entirety of India to walk to the sea, to withstand beatings and do jail time all in the name of what you believe.
I looked up to Gandhi’s example for much of my young life, because I could identify with his mentality, his sentiment that we cannot support evil, as one of my favorite poets so aptly said
I think perhaps cleaning up after the slaughter of innocents, the people he once believed to be inferior yes in fact having once said that the "white race of South Africa should be the predominating race." struck Gandhi in a way that was perhaps pivotal to the formation of his dedication to the cause of nonviolence, for before his time serving in our majesties army Gandhi had been a meat eater, convinced that the Indian people would only be made strong of limb enough to rise up to drive out the British if they ate meat.
I think perhaps it was Gandhi’s first real experience with death and violence and what he saw changed him forever, and eventually what changed the world. Would you not be sickened by war, pain, suffering, violence and attrition if you had to clean up the remains of simply armed Zulu’s with their hide shields and rock tipped spears riddled with bullet holes and trampled by horses?
It is no wonder that he “found no glory in the fields” of Natal, but only his chosen path to enlightenment.
In fact I believe that Gandhi’s soul that “raged against the dying of the light” would not have let him rest knowing he could do something, ANYTHING to “be the change you wish to be in the world” but this first hand dance with the effects of violence deeply disturbed, sickened and left Gandhi feeling violated.
Not all of us can handle the sight of blood, not everyone can be a nurse able to take care of and nurse others, some of us can handle violence, and some of us can clean up the shit, puke, blood and guts of the world. I do not believe Gandhi could actually handle the cruelty, the ugliness in this world, so turning from this he sought to change the world into something he could understand, that he could live in because being quiet was never an option for him.
In the end I would love to believe in a world free of violence, of suffering, that man could one shining day live this way, but then I remember we are animals, and dream drifts away like a cloud drifting overhead in a blue Vermont sky. While I believe what Asha Devi said was true that “there are no limits to our capabilities.” we can BE the change we wish to see in this world if only we accepted less apathy in this world and more anger springing from the greatest love.
I'm sure I will shock My Professor a little bit with this little confession and perhaps some of you, knowing full well that my responses to many of these assignments have been a-light with anger, yet I tell you the above meditation has been the cornerstone of my spirituality since I was a girl of 12 when I fell in love with Hinduism.
One of my favorite Quotes of Gandhi's is the "Be the change you wish to see in the world." a sentiment which is highly reflective of Gandhi's Hindu upbringing. It is my fundamental spiritual belief that we are all one organism, each person, each life, each plant, animal, microorganism or monster we are all one being, and that being IS God.
I came to this startling epiphany during my own search for God, without the confines of church intervention I was able to academically guide my own search following those concepts which felt to me to be the most true.
In this book we are given the image of Gandhi seated in concentraited prayer listening to these lines from the Bhagavad Gita and I imagine he was actually trying to realize this connection to devinity. For it is only through great love can we be so enraged by the lack of it in others.
I believe the shaping of Gandhi the persona we idolize today that he obviously tried in the later portion of his life to cultivate was a direct result of two major contributing factors in his life. His time spent in Africa fighting on the side of the British force cleaning up the injured and the dead during the Zulu’s bid for Independence; and his mother’s deep interest in Jainism.
Jainism is one of the oldest religions in the world, indeed containing a rich library, the most literate followers in the world, and many of the ideals later followed by Gandhi are teachings of Jainists, who go so far in order to avoid even accidentally causing harm to even the lowliest of creature place a white card over their mouth and nose so they do not accidentally ingest anything living.
As Easwaran says Gandhi “sought to make himself Zero” that is to attain that state of perfection that is laid down in the Bhagavad Gita. Many religions teach that love is the answer but few warn us away from too much love. I do not mean lust, passion or desire, but I mean a truly null state of being; to live equally, to see clearly, to identify with all, and accept all with equality.
This is really only seen in the eastern religions and I am a firm believer that many of our wisest philosophical and religious minds which came into contact with this way of thought, from Jesus, Buddha, Dalai Lama, Gandhi and through Gandhi Martin Luther King Jr. we see an eventual broadening of the mind, an iris of understanding and perceiving that broadens their scope of brotherly love.
“Evil is only real in so far as we support it. The essence of holding onto truth is to withdraw support of what is wrong.” Gandhi was known to be a highly stubborn man, how could he not be with the goals he gave himself which he accomplished. A great will and stubbornness would be needed to starve oneself by choice, to traverse the entirety of India to walk to the sea, to withstand beatings and do jail time all in the name of what you believe.
I looked up to Gandhi’s example for much of my young life, because I could identify with his mentality, his sentiment that we cannot support evil, as one of my favorite poets so aptly said
Do not go gentle into that good night. By Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I think perhaps cleaning up after the slaughter of innocents, the people he once believed to be inferior yes in fact having once said that the "white race of South Africa should be the predominating race." struck Gandhi in a way that was perhaps pivotal to the formation of his dedication to the cause of nonviolence, for before his time serving in our majesties army Gandhi had been a meat eater, convinced that the Indian people would only be made strong of limb enough to rise up to drive out the British if they ate meat.
I think perhaps it was Gandhi’s first real experience with death and violence and what he saw changed him forever, and eventually what changed the world. Would you not be sickened by war, pain, suffering, violence and attrition if you had to clean up the remains of simply armed Zulu’s with their hide shields and rock tipped spears riddled with bullet holes and trampled by horses?
It is no wonder that he “found no glory in the fields” of Natal, but only his chosen path to enlightenment.
In fact I believe that Gandhi’s soul that “raged against the dying of the light” would not have let him rest knowing he could do something, ANYTHING to “be the change you wish to be in the world” but this first hand dance with the effects of violence deeply disturbed, sickened and left Gandhi feeling violated.
Not all of us can handle the sight of blood, not everyone can be a nurse able to take care of and nurse others, some of us can handle violence, and some of us can clean up the shit, puke, blood and guts of the world. I do not believe Gandhi could actually handle the cruelty, the ugliness in this world, so turning from this he sought to change the world into something he could understand, that he could live in because being quiet was never an option for him.
In the end I would love to believe in a world free of violence, of suffering, that man could one shining day live this way, but then I remember we are animals, and dream drifts away like a cloud drifting overhead in a blue Vermont sky. While I believe what Asha Devi said was true that “there are no limits to our capabilities.” we can BE the change we wish to see in this world if only we accepted less apathy in this world and more anger springing from the greatest love.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” Mahatma Gandhi
“You must be the change you wish to see in the
world.” Mahatma Gandhi
Ba,
his wife looks at Gandhi hostilely. Ba Speaks, “Sora was sent to tell me I – I
must rake and
cover the latrine?” to which Gandhi replies, “Everyone takes his turn.” Ba retorts aghast, “but it is the work of untouchables!” Gandhi looking tired and a little scornful says “In this place there are no untouchables – and no work is beneath any of us!” Ba looks up at him a little shocked “I am your wife.” but he replies to her dismissively, “All the more reason.” He holds her gaze angrily as she holds his in disbelief, she finally replies scornfully “As you command Husband.” As she starts to rise he grabs her arm, but she pulls free. Ba, in a show of very rare assertiveness stands up to him and drives the knife home. “The others may follow you – but you forget, I knew you when you were a boy!”
cover the latrine?” to which Gandhi replies, “Everyone takes his turn.” Ba retorts aghast, “but it is the work of untouchables!” Gandhi looking tired and a little scornful says “In this place there are no untouchables – and no work is beneath any of us!” Ba looks up at him a little shocked “I am your wife.” but he replies to her dismissively, “All the more reason.” He holds her gaze angrily as she holds his in disbelief, she finally replies scornfully “As you command Husband.” As she starts to rise he grabs her arm, but she pulls free. Ba, in a show of very rare assertiveness stands up to him and drives the knife home. “The others may follow you – but you forget, I knew you when you were a boy!”
Gandhi
was a hypocrite.
Gandhi
was not fit to lead his home and family let alone his countrymen into freedom.
As Plato describes his idealized ruling class of the wise and educated slaves
which had sought out the light of education, to seek out a better and truer
life devoted to equality and freedom we must ask ourselves realistically does
this description fit the Gandhi of reality?
The
British may not have been right to rule over a foreign people, but Gandhi’s
idea of a “pure India” would have been similarly as unhealthy, dangerous and
corrupt. Far from the paragon popularity would make us believe him to be, this
spiritual and political leader that we have all grown up idolizing, a man known
for his impact on Martin Luther King Jr. and the civil rights movement due to
his example of nonviolent protest that changed an entire nation lived a life
far removed from what this Hollywood production would have us believe of him.
Far
from the image of Plato’s wise man Gandhi lived a life as suspicious and narrow
minded as any slave in the cave praising himself for his ability to correctly
identify shadows. Gandhi the man behind the pop cultural divinity lived a life
dictated by a supreme force of will a stubborn egocentric personality and
created a society dedicated to his warped sense of guilt, repression and
inhumanity towards his fellow man and woman.
He
demanded of others in the Phoenix community he created, and latterly via his
own twisted example to live in a manner that kept them in the allegorical cave
of ignorance, suffering in his name and the common cause of freedom. A cause
for freedom from a large and militaristic western power, excusing terrorism and
jihadist self-sacrifice while he enjoyed the lifestyle known only to us today
in the realm of cult leaders and polygamists like Jim Jones and David Koresh.
He
was a volunteer British soldier in a war of oppression of native peoples, was a
racist, supported the Indian caste system, took part in censorship of other
religions and desecrations of their Holy sites, took part in lascivious and
improper relations with children and family members, and was a sexist who’s
heartless egocentric path to glory left his children broken and estranged and
due to his own steadfast and blind ignorant refusal of modern medicine caused
the death of his wife.
While
this Film was an artistic work of fiction, dialogue being created, characters
being glossed over by the Gaussian Marilyn Monroe filter of Hollywood, the
meaning of the film and eventually the sole purpose of the Allegory of the cave
was a simple one; Freedom of the people to rule themselves wisely, to be free
to dictate their own destiny in equality.
I
will not dwell too much on quotes from this stylized and sugar coated rendering
of the man but will bring to you his own personal quotes from his
Autobiography, open source letters written by himself and others that knew him,
and factual accounts of his followers as well as those poetic lines enacted by
the feminists feminist Candice Bergen, and the sloe eyed Ben Kingsley.
In
one scene in which Candice Bergen who portrayed Margaret Burke-White a
journalist and photographer is talking to Gandhi while repeatedly taking his
picture as he moves throughout his home. Gandhi addresses Margaret “You're a
temptress.” Margaret responds enthusiastically “Just an admirer!” to this Gandhi
retorts “Nothing is more dangerous, especially for an old man.”
Gandhi
shows here, just as he does in the scene between himself and his wife over the
raking of latrines his views on women. Indeed many of the novels written about
Gandhi and even his own autobiography dwell on Gandhi’s strange and strained
struggle with sexuality and his treatment of women.
Married
at 13 to the Mayors daughter, his next door neighbor, Gandhi described himself
as a young teenager and husband as being overcome with jealousy, wondering what
his wife was getting up to at home while he was at school. While marriage at
such a young age was normal during that time and place in history I feel it
might have been a part of the psychological fracturing that occurred in
Gandhi’s mind when associated with sex. Indeed a severe trauma occurred to a
seventeen year old Gandhi which would extremely shift and radicalize the idea
of sex in Gandhi’s mind.
As
his father lay dying Gandhi left his father’s bedside to go have sex with his
then pregnant wife Ba, during the heat of his passion Gandhi’s father died, for
this he never forgave himself. However to make matters worse, the child that Ba
was carrying at the time died in infancy only a few short months after birth.
As
any sane and rational human being knows its next to impossible to be there for
an exact moment of death, more often than not those suffering from a great
illness die unattended, infant mortality was not an abnormal thing, however to
Gandhi’s superstitious and still forming young mind decided this was a sign
from God, divine retribution for leaving his father to die alone while he
sought out the sins of the flesh. He not only brooded in his guilt over this,
but blamed his wife for tempting him to such actions; and so rooted deep in his
mind the abusers mantra of “she made me do it.”
Indeed
he goes on to blame Katsurba for his own personal failings to do good or
thoughtful things for her always complaining that they had such an active sex
life that there was never any time for what he would have much preferred to do
- which was to educate the illiterate Katsurba. ‘I am sure that, had my love
for her been absolutely untainted by lust, she would be a learned lady today,'
As
Plato so wisely observes that if a prisoner were made to look directly into the
light of the fire, after the wool had been taken from his eyes and he freed of
his bondage, the prisoner would “turn back to the things which he could see
distinctly” Gandhi instead of reasoning logically and forgiving himself for this
all too natural need for a boy of seventeen, he instead reverts back to a more
primitive and oddly a Christian mindset, that women after all use sex to guide
men away from the path of righteousness. In Hinduism sex and sexuality is
prized and praised as a part of health, philosophical and religious understand.
The act of sex and being sexual is a tool of enlightenment, and not the work of
a devil.
It
is also important to note that shortly after his father’s death Gandhi went to
England to study law, during this time in English history we have Victorian
values which treated the human sex drive as a source of weakness, illness, and
was inherently evil. The human body was something to be ashamed of and women
were beginning to restart the suffragette movement which was generally frowned
upon and likened to perversion of the mind and spirit.
Gandhi
during his time in England was greatly influenced by Christianity and the
vegetarian movement which was also popular at the time. Before this Gandhi
despite being raised Hindu was a meat eater who was convinced that the only way
the Indian people could rise up and toss off the British colonial rulers was to
gain strength from the ingestion of meat. However I believe that Gandhi’s time
in England influenced his politics and spiritual education far more than just
his knowledge of the law, for after he returned home he became a strict
vegetarian who believed that violence in man comes from the consumption and
passions for flesh.
Instead
during the creation of the Phoenix settlement in Durban South Africa, an Ashram
created by Gandhi, he decided to declare his chastity, declaring he saw sex and
family as a emotional distraction and they were downgraded to the role of mere
followers to the growing cult of Gandhi.. Indeed during this same period in the
movie and continuing on until the end of the film, we do not see much of Ba or
her children, they take on a role as just a part of the crowd which Gandhi
surrounded himself with. We see more touching and emotive scenes between Gandhi
and his other male friends than we ever get the notion of Gandhi “the family
man”.
Yet
when Saraladevi Choudhurani, a Bengali nationalist activist, came into his life
his attraction to her was so great that he even confessed that he was playing
with the idea of breaking his own rules. Saraladevi provided the intellectual
companionship his wife never could and never was allowed to be in his strict
Victorian masculine totalitarian world. When he wrote to a friend calling her
'my spiritual wife' she would not be the last.
In
fact Gandhi surrounded himself almost entirely by slavishly devoted women,
including two beautiful young women to act as his “walking sticks” wherever he
went. He slept beside both the teenage girls, one his niece and one named
Sushilla who was gifted to him like a slave by her own mother when Gandhi asked
to have her. He talked at length about keeping men and women separate and yet
would sleep naked beside both of these young and impressionable women,
discarding them once they grew too old, watching them bathe, or having them
press their naked bodies against him all in the guise of “learning to control
and master his lust”
The
movie however decides to gloss over completely Gandhi’s unfaithful extramarital
relationships, by instead of touching on these “spiritual marriages” he had
with other women, the director decided that in one of the last and few scenes
containing Ba, they would show one of these spiritual marriages in an interview
like quality taking place by the sea, none of which ever happened. Gandhi’s
abandonment of his wife was so complete and his nature so unfeeling that later
on in his life after his wife Ba died in his arms he even began sleeping in the
arms of his friend’s wives.
To
go one step further, his wife Ba served several of his prison terms for him, so
he could remain free to work on his various campaigns and political rallies,
often serving out this time in hard labor camps. What’s more Ba was born with
respiratory condition which often left her breathless, and fatigued. She was
always getting pneumonia and bronchitis and in her old age Gandhi only allowed
her to be treated with traditional Indian medicine as he distrusted modern
medical practices and she died in his arms after Gandhi himself denied her the
simple treatment of penicillin.
Gandhi
himself says over and over again “an eye for an eye makes the whole world
blind” and yet he owned a slave, subjugating women, endangering their health
and welfare of his family members, active sexual misconduct with minors, and
his abandonment and elder abuse of his wife. How can he not have been just as
blind, if this was the world in which he built for himself, a man as Plato
describes who “covets those prizes...exalted to honor and power in the cave”
and yet as Gandhi says in the film “No Indian must be treated as the English
treat us. We must remove untouchability from our hearts and from our lives.”
Yet is this not what he does to the women in his life? Uses them as tools and
servants, playthings and devotees in awe of his splendor, subjects, admirers
and temptresses that he can denounce, deny and vilify as he so desires?
Gandhi
was so sexually repressed, that in the 1930’s he along with Jawaharla Nehru
attempted to deface and erase all mention or depiction of Indian homoerotic
tradition from temples throughout India in a bid for “sexual cleansing”. Does
this not also show his homophobia as well as his religious insensitivity to his
fellow Indians? As well as clearly placing Gandhi himself in the role of the
chained slave that tells the wise man that “he had gone up only to come back
with his sight ruined;” He thought himself so wise and yet maintained these
backward ideals which is perhaps even a direct result of his Victorian English
Christian indoctrination?
Indeed
the impact of the Christian agenda upon Gandhi and then Gandhi as a tool used
by the Christians for their own ends is an enduring legacy. We have been kept
in the dark about the darker sides of a man, fed propaganda and lies in order
to easily swallow another form of shadow puppetry. In short we have been
hoodwinked into glorifying a mortal man through the means of Christian
pressure.
Gandhi’s
deeds were glorified by Christian mercenaries that wanted to convert the
Hindu’s, his real life was glossed over in favor of a grandiose myth; John
Holms a pastor from New York described Gandhi as “The modern Christ” and he was
even announced to be the seventh reincarnation of Vishnu.
The
example of Gandhi created by the Christian church however was as acceptable at
that time as it was for Gandhi to be a socially acceptable racist and murder of
native Africans. In an open letter to the legislature of South Africa's Natal
province, Gandhi wrote of how his fellow Indians after being imprisoned for
their involvement in the civil disobedience which he lead saying quite clearly
and reusing the word several times; "the Indian is being dragged down
to the position of the raw Kaffir" Kaffir is the Indian equivalent of
the N-word and just as hateful and bigoted.
During
the pan-African war of the British Authority during the Boer War, Gandhi served
as a company leader on the side of the British in 1899 and served again in 1906
during the Zulu rebellion. Gunning down the Native Africans and Zulus with WWI
era military grade weaponry versus the hide shields and stone tipped spears of
those attempting to free their homeland from the colonial rule of the British.
During this time Gandhi even said he believed "that the white race of South
Africa should be the predominating race."
Gandhi
also maintained throughout his life to be a classist denying his support to the
untouchable class in 1925 when all they asked was to be able to pray in the
same temples as all other Hindus, and then using them for his own ends in the
1930’s much like he used women and untouchables during the Salt March. To
further prove Gandhi was like many lawyers, someone with pretty words and
actions which speak to the contrary; Gandhi during his time in Africa began his
social injustice struggle by creating a merchant group, for merchants by
merchants that was not inclusive to all classes of Indians and certainly not to
the Native Africans.
Gandhi
wrote his Satyagraha, literally meaning “Truth Force” which is influenced by
Islam and the Islamic concept of jihad, for during the time of Gandhi’s
exploration of his key concepts and ideals for Indian freedom he was surrounded
by and learning about Islam. The core idea of Satyagraha and Jihad is asking
the reader (and eventually what Gandhi asked of his followers) what they would
not do for a cause they believe in, what they would not suffer to create
change; asking his followers to withstand beatings, jail time, or even death in
pursuit of their ideals.
Yet
when Gandhi and 2,000 people were thrown in jail, he caved under the pressure
in Johannesburg fort prison when an emissary negotiated a deal with Gandhi to
repeal the black act (cards of identification with fingerprints) if only the
Indians would voluntarily register. Feeling betrayed by their leader for such
cowardice and spineless behavior when victory was at hand Gandhi was attacked
by one of his own followers nearly killing him, but a friend of his through
himself in front of Gandhi, taking the beating.
Do
we see a theme here; An upper middle class/caste boy, shifting the blame for
his own misdeeds, convincing others lower on the totem pole than himself to
fight his battles for him. Standing up when it’s the most convenient, a lawyer
of pretty words and shifting loyalties, an egotist basking in a community
designed to worship him as a born again god. When he does choose to make a
stand he lets others pay the price or starves himself and throws a temper
tantrum until the world does what he wants.
While
Gandhi took his own lumps and served his own jail time it is not until the
Jallianwala Bagh Massacre in 1919 that killed over a thousand people, that
Gandhi seemed truly to be touched by the ramifications of his actions, what
terrible power his Satyagraha could lead to. I believe that this scene made
such a harrowing impact in the movie as well as the world over, that we see
only this terrible act and others like it carried out by the British in a scope
that eclipses over the other hateful realities of the time in contrast.
That
like Plato describes the freeing of the prisoner and dragging him out into the
sunlight, that the massacre with its sudden brilliant illumination of
inhumanity, death and suffering would burn his vision, and the worlds vision
eclipsing the acts of violence which Gandhi’s own words had encouraged in the
Indian people which put the horrible General Dyer on such a paranoid guard,
that only now as the world’s eyes adjust are we able to “make out the shadows”
of this upper world.
In
the Allegory of the Cave Plato concludes that it is the journey “of the soul
into the region of the intelligible” and that in the real world, a world of
reason without sentiment, or popular belief of social indoctrination. We take
off the blinders of sentiment and instead peel back the layers of common
thought and find “the last thing to be perceived and only with great difficulty
is the essential form of goodness.”
Gandhi’s
essential goodness was that in the end of his life he peacefully enacted
change, though more truly a product of his times than we would care to admit
the man was still extraordinary in what he accomplished, even on the backs of
others and what his example, real or otherwise meant to the freedom fighters
that came after him. He spoke with the voice of the people and led them to
freedom.
It
begs me to question if the world can forgive those that took part in opposing
the civil rights movements because it was normal behavior for their time, if we
can forget the banality of evil during the Holocaust which chose to look away
and stand aside for the Nazi’s to commit genocide (even Gandhi himself wrote a
letter to the British people urging that they stand aside for Hitler to take
over Europe) for surely it has been ok to revere in ignorance a man so flawed as
Gandhi obviously was.
Death is easy, living is hard.
Death is easy, living is hard.
The
day was beautiful. It was still a little overcast from all of the recent rain,
the wind still had a chill in it but the sun was warm and the humidity was
thick in the air. The rainstorm of that morning hadn’t done enough to abate
that thick sweat-like feeling which clung to our skin as we made our way down
to the river.
I
had never gone to this part of the river from this direction, it seemed less
like the jungle expedition I was used to and more like a treacherous descent
into certain death. The large rocks which had been dumped along the bank to act
as fortified fill to delay the erosion into my friend's front yard were sharp
edged and green with slime caused by all the recent rain, and the various
bushes and small trees were dwarfed by an old tree which stretched out over the
water and tangled in wild rose and blackberry bushes.
As
my friend and I moved cautiously down the bank, my flip flops holding my feet
firm in the cracks of dirt between the rocks, she making small pain-filled
complaints as she moved over them with bare feet, I was thankful for the
protection the thin portion of plastic provided my tender toes.
I
grew up outdoors, but had never acquired, nor wanted to acquire, that layer of
skin which seemed to me to be hard as nails that other kids had on the bottom
of their feet. I always took a quiet pride in my soft skin and tender feet
thinking it somehow made me more “ladylike”. My friend had no such qualms; she
eventually got to a certain precipice and sat down on the stones half submerged
in water and let herself adjust to the cold water.
I
on the other hand had never been so cautious.
Since
I had first learned to swim, I had thrown myself into the river. I loved diving,
cutting through the water with my arms outstretched fingers together imagining
myself to be a spear or a submerged rocket slicing through the waves and
current with ease. I wanted to be submerged all at once, loved the shock of it,
the thrill and since I knew this part of the river like the back of my hand, I
knew I could avoid the rest of the large boulders, slime and probably leech
covered simply by jumping out a little further than normal.
So
with feet together, toes pointed forward, arms back and legs coiled to spring I
launched myself forward, using the pendulum swing of my arms to propel myself
further out, hair flying back from my face knowing I would easily clear the
stones that passed away below me.
As
I came down, my back bending just a little bit forward my body surrounded all
at once by the shock of the deep water that held the cold tight like a
frightened mother to her dying child. I came down, the current caught me like
it always did, but my muscles tensed and strained and my body remained straight
despite that insistent push that tried to convert me into something as liquid
and as formless as itself. I asserted my pose and sought the soft clay depths
which I knew were ahead.
After
what seemed like forever my outstretched hand finally brushed against the clay
slab at the bottom of the river, my fingers dug in greedily, my arms flexed
into a pull; I wanted as many handfuls of clay as I could get, and bring it
back to shore to work with. I was around twelve and my artistic ambitions where
getting stronger and I had begun to experiment with various different mediums
to find the one that spoke to me. So, at every opportunity that I could, while
swimming in the river just behind my house, I would haul up handful after
handful of clay from the bottom of the river and carry it to the shore to see
what I could make out of it.
As
I kicked down to propel myself up toward the surface my flip flopped foot came
down hard on one of the sharp edged rocks, with a sudden sharp yank and sort of
a pop the flip flop let go, scraping the inside of my big toe as it got yanked
down with a sudden jarring pain as the top of my foot smashed down into the
rock and scraped down the edge.
I
shot up to the surface, bobbing in place for a long moment trying to take
inventory of my body making sure I was ok and without any broken bones, and
then to keep myself from cursing when the searing pain hit along with the
realization that I had taken a layer of skin off of the top of my foot, when my
flip flop bobbed up to the surface beside me.
I
smiled and reached out toward the bobbing flip flop as it moved toward the
vortex that was the strongest current. My fingertips brushed at the flip flop
but it narrowly avoided my grasp, my injured foot curled up behind me to keep
it out of the way. I moved lazily along. A strong swimmer normally, I
propelled myself almost entirely with my arms letting the water move over me
and push me inward toward the current and down the path of the river. Every once
in a while just when I thought I had the flip flop in my grasp it would be
snatched away again the speed of our travel growing ever more urgent.
It
wasn’t until it was too late I heard it, the strangely hollow gunshot sound of
a large tree branch falling; the old tree fell, green and leafy, into the water
just behind me, the wake of its sudden impact pushing me roughly forward. I
bumped up against one of its lesser branches which scratched at me; I turned
around to look at the tree now upstream of me where my friend and her mother
were standing on the edge of the river, surprise showing on their faces due to
the sudden shock.
Her
mother waved at me, asking me if I was ok. I yelled back a laughter-filled yeah
and was struck suddenly by the realization that my friend and her mother were
receding from me awfully quickly. As they got smaller and smaller on the
horizon of my vision I put my feet down to slow down.
There
was no ground to stop myself; my bruised and injured feet pushed against
nothing but cold, cold water. The stronger inner current had got hold of me and
was taking me quickly downstream with the large broken tree branch following
me.
I
wasn’t afraid yet, but that tightly coiling snake in the pit of my stomach that
is called panic twitched purposefully. I fended off the panic and one of the
smaller branches, pushing myself forward with my arms attempting to dodge limbs
and see through leaves as I was tossed roughly about.
I
was now very cold, having been in the water now longer than anyone in my group,
the pain of it stinging the tops of my thighs and the outer surface of my arms.
I was now scratched up from all the little edges of the branches around me and
tired from the combination of both.
In
the rivers of New England, sandbars are rare; most of our riverbeds are filled
with rocks, most of which are the size larger than a human fist. This was the
very reason why I always wore shoes swimming, to protect my feet from the
stones. As I swam desperately for shore it was then my foot came down on the
rocky river bed. I immediately recoiled my foot and went down hard face first
into the water and was dragged under by the tree that moved above and around
me.
I
became disoriented. I sucked in water through my nose and started to gag and
cough. I came up gasping tangled in the tree. This happened over and over
again, the rough current bashing me into the large blue stones of the river
bank that I tried to stand up on. Inevitably lost my balance and second flip
flop, causing me to stumble and go under once again landing hard.
I
was moving too fast, the water was too deep beside the stones. I was growing
more and more tired into this I sank, “pressed down by a physical exhaustion”
(Chopin 264) that haunted my body and seemed to reach into my very soul. Every
time the current or the tree dragged me under I fought less and less to find
the right way up to the surface. When I clawed my way to the surface I was too
busy gasping for air to scream, and I saw no one on the distant shore trying to
save me.
I
knew I was going to drown.
It
was then the current ran me back first into another rock and I was pushed under
for the last time. I had a sudden thought; it was not, and “this is how you
die.” No, It was so profound that it shook me to the marrow of my being. I was
overcome with a simple feeling beyond knowing as I looked up into the bright
afternoon sky, and through the veil of white rushing water I saw the bubbles
floating to the surface and all I could think was how truly beautiful life is
before I closed my eyes...
Caroline
pulled me out, carried me to shore and was slapping me on the back hoping I
would breathe; I coughed and puked up water. It seemed like forever my body was
overcome with shaking which seemed to come from my core. The world was filled
with white starbursts in my darkened fuzzy vision. I was gasping, fighting for
every breath, but most importantly of all, I was alive.
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