Look Back In Love:
In Honor of Gandhi and King, Two Advocates of Nonviolence
Reflect on Tumultuous Lives Lived in Peace
Two men with vastly different
backgrounds but a unifying spiritual vision came to campus on
February 25 to share with the Haverford community how nonviolence
shaped and reformed their lives.
Arun Gandhi, the grandson of Mahatma
Gandhi and founder of the M.K. Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence,
recalled a childhood in South Africa fraught with anger at the
bigotry and discrimination that shaped his everyday life.
Dr. Bernard Lafayette, now the president
of American Baptist College, remembered three tumultuous years
as a youngster in North Philadelphia where he became "the war
counselor" or, as he put it, "the guy who would fight anyone."
Their lives could have easily deteriorated
into further violence, drugs and, ultimately, an early death.
But through their own spirituality and the nonviolent teachings
of both Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King, each learned
a way to channel their anger into action and their hate into
love.
"Anger is a beautiful thing. It's
a wonderful tool, and it's just like electricity," Gandhi explained.
"It is beautiful and powerful if we use it properly and channel
it correctly."
For
Dr. Lafayette, that meant "learning more about love" when confronting
bigotry in the South. As a former head of the Student Nonviolent
Coordinating Committee in Atlanta in the 1960s, Dr. Lafayette
organized and participated in nonviolent sit-ins and peace marches
throughout the South, enduring beatings, racial slurs, life
threats and church burnings.
"I had to turn the other cheek,"
Lafayette explained, noting the challenge of nonviolence resides
in the question, "Could you love someone who spat in your face?
"It's one thing not to retaliate.
It's another thing to love someone who will hurt you, insult
you and humiliate you. Can you respect yourself for being compassionate?"
For Lafayette, that meant finding
respect in white men who beat him during peaceful demonstrations
and in Klan members who threw rocks through church windows.
Nonviolence, he explained, even meant bailing out of jail a
white cab driver who had beat him during a sit-in.
Arun
Gandhi traveled a somewhat different path. As a youngster who
raged against his oppressed plight in South Africa, he was sent
to India to live with his grandfather, Mahatma Gandhi and learn
nonviolence. In that grand sweep of history, he watched his
grandfather lead the civil disobedience campaign for Indian
liberation from the British. Ever since, Arun Gandhi has dedicated
his life to alleviating poverty and caste discrimination in
India. For him, nonviolent activism has meant more than forsaking
physical violence.
"You think you are nonviolent because
you are not violent in the sense you do not go and beat up people.
But you can be violent because you hold a lot of passive violence
toward people," he explained. He pointed to the often passive
acceptance of inequity and the wasteful use of resources by
privaledged countries.
"In this affluent society we get
all of these things in bulk and we waste them," he explained.
"We are discriminating against the people in the world who do
not have such resources."
"All of these things are acts of
violence and unless we can stop this wasteful behavior we are
going to destroy ourselves and the world in the process."
In addition to this provocative dialogue
in front of an audience of over 150 people in Marshall Auditorium,
the pair also participated in a dinner in Founders Great Hall
where members of the community shared their own experiences
with non-violence and its implications for global transformation.
Arranged by Ashok Gangadean, professor
of philosophy and chair of the department, the special event
was part of "A Season for Nonviolence" - a national campaign
commemorating the lives and teachings of Mahatma Gandhi and
Martin Luther King. Gangadean, who also heads the Global Dialogue
Institute, said the event truly reflected how dialogue can move
people from different backgrounds toward unity and action.
"Their personal stories moved people
deeply. People found them very awakening and transformative,"
Gangadean explained. "One of the things I learned from that
day about the process of deep dialogue is the power of telling
personal stories."