Religion - A plea for sanity

RELIGION: A PLEA FOR SANITY

SIR S. RADHAKRISHNAN

We live in an age of movement, of rapid movement, not only in physical but in intellectual and spiritual affairs also. Everywhere the old barriers are breaking down, the old ideas are disappearing. Religion, which was hitherto regarded as the strongest of all conservative forces, has not escaped this law of drastic change. Some are attempting to clarify religious ideas and reform religious practices; others, of a revolutionary cast of mind, are attempting to dethrone religion from its place in human life. If the revolutionaries succeed, India will lose her distinctive individuality; for religion has been the master passion of the Indian mind, the pre-supposition and basis of its culture and civilisation. The history of India has for its landmarks not wars and emperors, but saints and scriptures.

This historic life of the country is being threatened today by two forces, dogmatic denial and dogmatic affirmation, blank negation and blind faith. These two which agree in their spirit and method, though they differ in their content and conviction, have a common origin, and are the outcome of a singular narrowness of mind or obscurantism.
The denying spirits complain that religion has been a force of dangerous reaction. By withdrawing itself from the scene of mankind’s social agony, it lends support to the existent order. Those who burn with a passion for social justice find religion to be worthless at its best and vicious at less than best. They ask: Is there a God? Does it pay to be upright? What is the meaning of life after all? Is the present distribution of power and opportunity, where a few have a chance to live without working, while the many have their s broken by the burdens they bear, is this order justified? When the evils of the world cry out for redress, is it the time to discuss the state of our souls or the pictures of the unseen? Religion seems to be utterly irrelevant to the problems of the world in which we live.

There is a good deal to be said in favour of this criticism of religion, but it is a criticism, not of religion as such, but of its otherworldly and abstract character. The mark of spirituality is not exile from the natural world. The truly religious are opposed to the injustice and iniquity of the world. They befriend not the strong but the weak and the suffering, those who cannot help themselves. ‘Yasmin sarvanibhutani atmai babhut vijanatah.’ Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. The condition is absolute: atmaiva, thyself. There must be freedom and equality of status. Such a demand would make for the establishment of a universal community of free persons, and require those who accept it to overcome the artificial barriers of race and creed, nationality and wealth. Unless a man is economically secure, he cannot develop his individuality. If he is starving, his personality will wither and die. All attempts at establishing a social democracy, a more equal distribution of wealth and opportunity, may be regarded as a genuine manifestation of the religious spirit.

I should like however to utter a warning. Man cannot find his happiness, simply because we secure for him a sufficiency of material goods. We all know that there are many in this world who have all the comforts and conveniences which wealth can bring, who are yet suffering from emptiness of soul, nudity of spirit. They have done with the radiance and gladness of life. They have no hopes to inspire, no ambitions to realise, no faith to live by, no happiness to which they can look forward. Their minds are distracted, their action is fragmentary and futile. Suppose we succeed in our attempt to build an earthly paradise, where we will have good roads and water-supply, excellent sanitation, free education for all, unlimited picture-houses and soft drinks, golf links for adults, lights, lifts and wireless installations for everyone, do you think they will be contented and happy? Our activities are moved, not merely by the economic motive but also by vanity and ambition, jealousy and ill-temper, or by a noble unselfish idealism or by a dis-interested hatred of injustice and cruelty. Our selfishness and stupidity, our false pride and dignity will continue to corrode and spoil the purity of our personal relationships. We will not cease to ask, "Why do we stiffen, grow old and die?" Man has far horizons, invincible hopes, thoughts that wander through eternity, projects that cannot be attained in time. To find the way to truth, to create a work of beauty, to understand another human soul, he is willing to scourge himself, to endure hunger and thirst, to give up his all. This preference for the values of spirit is not an eccentricity.

There are many in India, perhaps more than in other countries, who are willing to impoverish themselves in every way to attain the spiritual goal, and their credulity and hunger for spirit are being exploited by clever adventurers who beat the drum and bang the cymbals, indulge in publicity stunts, to draw recruits. It is therefore essential to exercise the greatest care and discrimination.

The great religious tradition of India can be preserved only if we avoid these two extremes of atheism and blind faith, and strive for right thinking and right living. Tradition is memory; it is humanity’s memory of its own past. This memory dies an artificial or accidental death when it is forcibly interrupted. It dies a natural death when it becomes crystallised and congealed. If atheism succeeds, the tradition of India will suffer death by accident; if blind faith and superstition overtake us, it will die a natural death, of old age, of hardening of arteries. Let us, therefore, avoid these two extremes.

(From TRIVENI, 1938)