Behind the Mask: Myth and History

I just watched the movie Gandhi again, for what must be my fourth or fifth time. I used to rent it all the time from the public library back in high school. It's a pretty long movie, so I would watch parts of it before I went to be every night, and it might last me a whole week. It would bring me a small boost of desperately-needed peace of mind that was in such short supply back then. Not that I have a bountiful stock now. But some, perhaps.

Watching it again, I found myself intrigued and drawn to the same ideas and principles that I found so engaging in high school. Not so much of me has changed. Practically nothing, really. I've gained a lot of perspective, I would like to think. But really isn't all "perspective gaining" really just "perspective changing"? Maybe for me, maybe not for you. I wonder what that says about me. Fritjof Capra, author of The Tao of Physics, says that high energy particle physics doesn't create new particles but simply rearranges energy--nothing fundamental going on. But that's another topic...

Anyhow, I started looking into Gandhi biographies, thinking I might increase the credulity of my admiration for Gandhi and his ideas. Immediately, I came across Gandhi: Behind the Mask of Divinity by G.B. Singh. The book's thesis is that Gandhi is more myth than man in both Western and Indian culture (a point I'm willing to hear out and probably concede) and that the Gandhi propaganda machine of the last 60 years has clouded our vision of a man who had many shadowy secrets, including being a racist.

Even before really understanding this point of view (and I still don't have the full argument), I was crushed a little. This idol of mine, this bronze statue of idealism was already tarnished with the sins of a mortal man. Woe, unto me, the theologian in a scientist's lab coat.

And that's always been the case for me, hasn't it? To latch on, to idolize the ideals of great thinkers, to be taken in by the schemes and scams of great books? Ayn Rand, George Orwell, Robert Pirsig, Douglas Hofstadter, my pantheon of intellectual gods could go on... Michio Kaku, Carl Sagan, Umberto Eco. Sad little alchemist, always joining the cults of those writers, always buying into their idealogical agendas, just waiting for them to turn the lead of the Real World into the gold of an Ideal World.

Evidently, the bitterness is not gone. I can admit that. Being pegged as an intellectual follower has haunted me and not without good reason. I can see their point, in a certain way (ah, yes, the perspectivist's curse: to understand one's opponent and thus be vulnerable to agree with them). I happen to see the beauty, full and deep, rich and multi-structured in great works. And the wisdom in them can overtake me. While some can brush off the value of Orwell as oft-trodden ground, let sit the greatness of Gandhi's Satyagraha (nonviolent resistance), or question the originality of Pirsig's "Quality", these are things that resound in me so loudly that they are impossible to ignore.

And sneaking up behind such thoughts is, "Why I am the odd one? Why did I get all the stares?" In the back of my mind, I always felt I was in the right. That these things are the priceless treasures of our society--these ideas are proof that humanity is an asset to the universe, not a liability.

But I am slowly moving on from such idle perigrinations. Now, I have begun to wonder about the importance of reality and myth-- their relationship and partnership in history.

Richard Attenborough's Gandhi is, if anything, an epic movie. There are all the classic elements: huge scenes of violence, battles over land and over freedom, political in-fighting, long periods of people's lives, their friends and enemies, and even an innvocation to the gods of sorts, with long visual proems of medidative water bookending the movie.

So if this movie is an epic, who is Gandhi? The main star no doubt; a man on an odyssey, with a mission and an unthinkably large foe, who is doomed to fail. Just like Troy, so goes British imperialists. But not so much like Troy. And Gandhi...not so much like Achilles or even Odysseus.

Well, you may or a may not see where I am going, so here it is: Gandhi may be an epic movie in a style that would be fully-identifiable to an ancient greek (if it were told orally, in greek meter). Yet, Gandhi leads a fight with no weapons. You may have already gathered the historical significance of this, but...have you? An epic warrior who achieves victory by showing his enemy its own horrific evil. Truly a mind-bending idea and something I'm not sure the greeks would have understood.

So, what then, of the real Gandhi? If G.B. Singh has done his research-- as the few amazon.com reviews claim--then perhaps Gandhi, the man, was not nearly as heroic and saintly as Gandhi, the myth. I recognize that this idea is a familiar one for all legendary people, but frankly that's not the point. The point is this: Gandhi, as a myth, has brought something new to our culture--a mode of conflict resolution that does not claim to be perfect and peaceful, but nevertheless provokes a fundamentally different response in humans. When two clans run at each other with swords, there's no ethical discrepancy. When one group is unarmed and unwilling to respond blow with blow, a huge social problem erupts.

As a myth, Gandhi exemplifies the power of humanity's ability to abide by a collective morality. Moreover, he proves that the unified morality of the general populace is a powerful force, and that, with the right approach, can move to correct injustices which may have gone unnoticed if the victimized group used violence.

I am pretty spent on this topic, but this is not all I've got. Stay tuned for more.