Gandhi, Trump, Black Lives Matter and Moi

I was recently reading  a delightful contemporary Sufi book—Sacred Laughter of the Sufis, by Imam Ajamal Rahman.  Right at the start I came across the story of how Mahatma Gandhi, while still in South Africa, was thrown off a passenger train because he had been sitting with some of his white friends.

This mixing of brown and white was a violation of the South African laws at the time, and was also against all railroad regulations. The conductor was only “doing his job” when throwing Gandhi off the train. (Are you listening, Federal Secret Police?)

At that early point in his career,  Gandhi, like decades later Martin Luther King,  was already keenly aware that love and non-violence—what Gandhi’s tradition called ahimsa—was the most powerful, indeed unstoppable response to such racist injustice. Gandhi knew he had to work on himself to not respond with anger, frustration and indignation at this inhumanity, this blatant  expression of ignorance and fear. Gandhi knew that fearless love was his most powerful remedy to all such human weakness.

As Rahman writes, “seething with anger and resentment, his [Gandhi’s] bruised ego sought revenge. But Gandhi knew instinctively that this was not his true identity speaking, nor was it his true calling to seek retaliation. He sought to connect with his higher self and choose a higher path. [From this day] He deepened his inner spiritual practices and restrained the actions of his ego. After several years, he humbly declared that he would like to make one boast if allowed. [He admitted] He could no longer feel any anger or hate against any oppressor or enemy, no matter how unjust or cruel that persona’s behavior might be. Deep inside, he was able to flow into higher consciousness—and that, he said, is something every human can do. We all have a higher identity and we are all capable of finding and expressing it.” (Sacred Laughter of the Sufis, p.4-5. Emphasis added. )

For over fifty years I have been (off and on) studying Gandhi and his teachings, and endeavoring to emulate him when and where I can. After all this time, I am comfortable saying I know Gandhi fairly well.  I can also  say with studied certainty: I am no Gandhi.

Case in point: Donald Trump pushes my buttons, makes me angry,  time and time (and time) again. Gandhi could “no longer feel any anger or hate against any oppressor or enemy, no matter how unjust or cruel that persona’s behavior might be.” This from a man whose oppressors literally beat him, and his followers, threw him and his followers in jail, brought the whole force of the British Empire to wage war against him and his ideas. Gandhi’s followers, and Gandhi himself, were murdered by such oppressors.

Alas, I can and do get personally angry at Trump—and his cruelty and un-justness– at the drop of a hat.

It has been fifty years that I’ve sought out and enjoyed the good company of men like Gandhi (and the brothers Berrigan and Bishop Tutu, Muhammad Ali, MLK, Yogi Berra, Joan Baez and Abraham and Esther Hicks, Ekhart Tolle, to name just a few )  so I have slowly matured to a point that I can honestly say I don’t hate Trump, even though I don’t want to be in the same building (or state or country) with the guy. I’ve matured enough to experience that hatred itself —even against a Cretan like Trump—is a lose, lose emotion. It doesn’t rise in me as much as it once did, even against Trump.

Alas, I do still get very angry, frustrated, mad as hell. And I recognize that when I’m feeling such emotions I am less clear, less centered, less useful than when I’m free of such unwanted emotional anchors. Non-violence also means non-violence against oneself.

I confess I can also get angry at Gandhi. The little guy sets a bar so high it seems almost impossible for we ordinary mortals to actually reach such a bar, live our lives, inwardly and outwardly, according to the example he set.  Another example: Gandhi said we should never make our resistance personal—against another human being. Our resistance needs to be against the institutions, laws and practices that create the injustice, the suffering and humiliation.

But not against the person, Gandhi says, because every person is a child of God. When it comes to Trump, I have a hard time hearing that. Nevertheless, Gandhi’s a guy I listen to, at least on occasion, and try, again, on occasion,  to emulate.

So what would Gandhi do with Trump?

Same thing we are all doing. Resist. With body and soul. And resist again. And then again. Gandhi would also tell the truth, and tell it again and again. He would live without fear.

Alas, one of the truths he tells is that we all have a higher identity that wants to be expressed in these lower fields. We all know we resist best—most effectively–when we resist without losing our inner peace, our love for all humanity.  Likewise we most effectively tell the truth when we’re not yelling our truth at our enemy, but rather when we’re simply sharing it, perhaps even wordlessly,  with those we recognize as equals.

The way to justice is to be just. The way to freedom is to be free. The way to love is to be love.

Or at least that’s what Gandhi tells us.

The little guy can be a real spoiler sometimes.

As well as the way forward.