The Sadhu  and the Cobra

There was a cobra that used to bite and kill the residents of a village. A Sadhu passing by heard of it, and ordered the cobra not to bite. The cobra obeyed the Sadhu and kept low, not attacking the villagers.

However the villagers now sensing the cobra’s docile nature, began to pelt and throw stones at it, injuring it badly. The cobra was confused, because it had promised the Sadhu not to bite.

When the Sadhu returned back, he was shocked to see the cobra, lying helplessly with injuries, and asked him what happened. To which the Cobra replied.

“You had taken a promise from me not to attack and kill people, and they pelted me with stones”

And the Sadhu said

“My son, I asked you not to bite, but did I ask you not to hiss in self defense”

In a sense that has been the story of Hindus since the last century, confused between attack and defence. Many believe that we believe in Ahimsa, propagated by Gandhi, so we should not attack. And that is where the root cause of the problem lies.

Gandhi’s Ahimsa was not passive — it was a forceful moral stance rooted in Satyagraha (truth-force). He believed that nonviolence could transform even the most hardened oppressor. But Ahimsa in Hinduism is layered. The Bhagavad Gita doesn’t preach pacifism — it urges righteous action (Karma Yoga) even if it means war, as Krishna tells Arjuna.

Jain and Buddhist Ahimsa are more absolute, but Hindu Dharma allows for Yuddha (war) when it is Dharmayuddha — a war fought for justice, not conquest.

Post-independence India often confused Gandhi’s tactical nonviolence with a blanket civilizational ethos, sidelining the warrior spirit of figures like Shivaji, Rana Pratap, and Netaji. Ahimsa became a political posture, not a philosophical choice. It was used to justify inaction, appeasement, and moral hesitation — even when faced with existential threats.

Shatrubodh was sidelined — the ability to recognize, study, and counter enemies was seen as “un-Gandhian,” even though Gandhi himself was no stranger to strategic resistance.

Ahimsa was never about surrendering to injustice. It was about refusing to become the perpetrator of cruelty — not about tolerating it. Gandhi himself said, “My nonviolence does not admit of running away from danger and leaving the dear ones unprotected.”

In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna urges Arjuna to fight — not out of hatred, but to uphold Dharma. That’s Ahimsa in action: resisting evil without becoming evil.

A bully thrives not on strength, but on the submission of others. Each act of surrender is not a gesture of peace — it’s a signal of weakness that fuels further aggression.

Gandhi warned against cowardice masquerading as nonviolence, saying: “There is hope for a violent man to be non-violent, but none for a coward.” True Ahimsa demands moral spine, not just moral speech. It’s the power to say “no” — not with fists, but with unyielding resolve.

Sanatana Dharma is never against war, it only takes it as a last option when nothing works. Remember Sama-Dhana-Bheda-Dhanda, the Fourfold Strategy of Dharma

Sama meaning conciliation, winning hearts through dialogue and reason. Dhana, gifting or concession, offer incentives to foster cooperation, Bheda, differentiation, creating strategic rifts to weaken opposition and finally Dhanda, Force, apply it when all else fails.

These principles are echoed in the Mahabharata, Arthashastra, and Vidura Neeti, where Krishna himself exemplifies this sequence in the Kuru Sabha — first appealing to reason, then offering compromise, then exposing internal dissent, and finally warning of war.

War is not glorified, but it is not shunned either. It is a tool — not a goal. Dharma demands restraint before retaliation, but never submission to adharma. The sequence ensures that force is not the first instinct, but the final recourse when righteousness is at stake.

In the Ramayana, Rama explicitly stated he had no desire for Lanka or conquest — only Sita’s return. He sent Angada as a messenger, offering Ravana a chance to avoid war. Ravana not only refused, he tried to kill the messenger.

Even Vibhishana, Ravana’s own brother, defected to Rama’s side, warning of ill omens and urging surrender. Ravana’s refusal wasn’t strategic — it was driven by ego and lust, as even Kumbhakarna admitted.

Krishna asked for five humble villages, not kingdoms.

Duryodhana’s infamous reply: “I will not give land even as much as the tip of a needle.”

Krishna warned of doom, revealed his Vishvarupa, and still Duryodhana remained defiant. The war wasn’t born out of ambition — it was born out of arrogance and obstinacy.

Ahimsa was meant to protect the weak, not abandon them. It was a shield, not a white flag. The exodus from Fiji, Uganda, Kashmir, Murshidabad, and Kairana wasn’t just geopolitical — it was psychological. A civilizational ethos misread as passivity. Gandhi’s Ahimsa was active resistance, not retreat. But over time, it was diluted into helplessness, stripped of its strategic backbone.

We had become like the cobra in the story, who had forgotten how to hiss in self defense, that makes us easy targets.

The belief that wealth and education shield us from conflict is a comforting illusion. In reality, they often make us more visible, more envied, and more vulnerable. History shows that those who live peacefully but forget to assert boundaries become easy prey — not because they lack strength, but because they refuse to show it. Dharma never asked us to be invisible. It asked us to be wise, restrained, and ready.

Self-defense is embedded in Vedic Dharma — Krishna didn’t ask Arjuna to meditate through injustice; he asked him to fight for righteousness. Ahimsa is not submission — it’s the refusal to harm without cause, not the refusal to protect oneself. The Mahabharata, Ramayana, and Arthashastra all uphold strategic resistance as a moral imperative when Dharma is threatened.

And now we come to other concept of Shatrubodh.

The literal meaning is a Sanskrit term that means “enemy recognition” or “knowledge of the enemy.” It’s not just about identifying adversaries but understanding their intentions, capabilities, and patterns. In texts like the Arthashastra by Chanakya and Vidura Niti, Shatrubodh is emphasized as essential for statecraft, diplomacy, and warfare.

Chanakya believed rulers must constantly observe and analyze enemies — both external and internal — to make informed decisions. In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna guides Arjuna through Shatrubodh, helping him distinguish between personal emotion and righteous duty. In today’s geopolitical and cultural landscape, Shatrubodh is seen as a tool for safeguarding identity, values, and national interests.

Some other related concepts are Swayambodh (self-awareness) that anchors identity and purpose. Shastra Bodh (knowledge of scriptures and history) which provides moral and philosophical clarity, and Sadguna Vikruti(misguided virtue) which highlights dangers of naive idealism.

While Shatrubodh sharpens strategic clarity, it must be balanced with compassion, wisdom, and dharma. The goal isn’t hostility — it’s discernment. As Samartha Ramdas Swami said:

“केल्याने होत आहे रे आधीं केलेंच पाहिजे । यत्न तो देव जाणावा अंतरीं धरितां बरें ॥”
(Effort is divine; action must precede success.)

Now when we look at Hindu history over the past 1000 years, what really stands out is the lack of Shatrubodh, that saw us face major defeats.

Time and again, Hindu rulers extended chivalry and magnanimity to invaders who operated outside any dharmic framework. Examples include sparing defeated enemies who later returned with greater brutality. Victories were often followed by a lack of consolidation. Instead of dismantling enemy infrastructure, rulers allowed them to regroup.

The ethical asymmetry between dharmic warfare and the tactics of invaders — be it Islamic or colonial — was stark. Hindu kings were unprepared for temple desecrations, mass enslavement, and cultural erasure. As Veer Savarkar warned, excessive virtue without discernment becomes a weakness. The idea of universal brotherhood was exploited by those who saw it as a one-way street.

Shivaji Maharaj never romanticized the enemy. His treatment of Afzal Khan — a textbook example of preemptive strategy — showed his clarity in recognizing threats. He built a robust espionage system to monitor enemy movements, a direct application of Arthashastra-style Shatrubodh.

His forts were designed for defense and counterattack, and his navy was a proactive measure against coastal threats. He knew when to negotiate, when to deceive, and when to strike — all rooted in a deep understanding of adversaries.

Even among most modern Indian freedom fighters, or thinkers, the concept of Shatrubodh was lacking, except a few like Savarkar.

Take the case of Haji Pir Pass, that was captured in 1965 during Operation Bakshi by Indian forces led by Brigadier Z.C. Bakshi and Major Ranjit Singh Dyal. It was a key infiltration route used by Pakistan to send militants into Jammu & Kashmir. Its control would have drastically shortened the road between Poonch and Uri from 282 km to 56 km.

However, the under the 1966 Tashkent Agreement, signed by then PM Lal Bahadur Shastri, it was returned. And the consequence, Pakistan continues to use this route for cross-border terrorism, making the return a haunting legacy.

India’s most glorious victory in 1971 War, where over 93,000 Pakistani troops surrendered in Dhaka — the largest military capitulation since WWII. However, the Shimla Agreement, signed in 1972 between Indira Gandhi and Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, emphasized bilateralism and peaceful resolution but failed to extract accountability.

India returned Pakistani POWs, but many Indian soldiers captured during the war were never repatriated. Some are still believed to be languishing in Pakistani jails. Despite the genocide in East Pakistan (now Bangladesh), the Pakistan Army was never tried for war crimes. India missed the opportunity to push for an international tribunal akin to Nuremberg.

Savarkar warned against Sadguna Vikruti — the distortion of virtue into weakness. His writings in Six Glorious Epochs of Indian History emphasize that misplaced compassion and moral confusion can be fatal. He understood that strategic clarity must override emotional idealism when dealing with adversaries who reject dharmic codes.

Qasim Rizvi, leader of the Razakars, a paramilitary force that unleashed unspeakable violence on Hindus and pro-merger activists in Hyderabad between 1946–1948.

Rizvi openly advocated for Hyderabad’s accession to Pakistan and rejected any notion of integration with India. His infamous quote to Sardar Patel — “Death with the sword in hand is preferable to extinction by a mere stroke of the pen” — earned him the title “Nizam’s Frankenstein”.

Under his command, the Razakars committed mass killings, rapes, and desecrations — from Bhairanpally to Gorata, the atrocities were systematic and targeted. Shoebullah Khan, a progressive Muslim journalist who supported Hyderabad’s merger with India — Rizvi’s men brutally murdered him, silencing dissent.

After the Indian Army defeated the Razakars in 1948, Rizvi was imprisoned for nine years at Trimulgherry Jail. In 1957, he was released on the condition that he migrate to Pakistan within 48 hours — which he did. No war crimes trial. No accountability. Just quiet exile. His deportation was seen by many as a betrayal of justice — especially when compared to the scale of suffering he orchestrated.

The trauma inflicted by the Razakars remains etched in Telangana’s villages — Bhairanpally’s massacre wall is as haunting as Jallianwala Bagh. Rizvi’s crimes were never fully documented in mainstream narratives.

His granddaughter’s recent visit to Hyderabad stirred controversy, as she attempted to portray him as a misunderstood idealist. Sparing Rizvi sent a message — that ideological extremism and mass violence could escape justice if cloaked in political expediency.

Remember one thing when the Allies won World War 2, they ensured the Nazi ecosystem was totally uprooted brick by brick.

At the first international war crimes tribunal at Nuremberg in 1946, top Nazi leaders like Göring, Ribbentrop, and Keitel were tried and sentenced — 12 were executed.

De-nazificaiton was carried out to purge Nazi influence from government, education, media, and industry. Nazi symbols and propaganda were banned.

Today, 17 European countries, including Germany, Austria, France, and Poland, criminalize Holocaust denial and Nazi glorification. Praising Hitler or denying the Holocaust is not just taboo — it’s a criminal offense. In Germany, even displaying the swastika is illegal.

Holocaust education is mandatory in many European schools. Yad Vashem, Auschwitz memorials, and museums serve as permanent reminders.

The Allies didn’t just punish individuals — they delegitimized an entire worldview. There was no Shimla-style agreement. No return of war criminals. No moral compromise. Europe made remembrance a civic duty. Denial is treated as an attack on truth and humanity.

The problem with us Hindus is that we are too emotional, either we become too friendly or too hostile. We need to understand the following concepts.

Dvaidhibhava: The doctrine of duplicity — not in the sense of betrayal, but in calculated unpredictability. It’s about appearing neutral or friendly while preparing for decisive action.

Yana: Strategic coercion — using movement, deception, and psychological pressure to unsettle the enemy.

Chanakya advised rulers to never reveal their full intent. Even allies were to be kept at arm’s length when necessary. The enemy must always be in a state of mental disarray.

Krishna’s diplomacy with the Kauravas was layered with ambiguity — offering peace while preparing for war. Shivaji Maharaj, often sent friendly envoys while fortifying his defenses. His raid on Surat was a classic example of striking when least expected. Netaji’s alliance with Axis powers was not ideological — it was strategic, designed to keep the British guessing and off-balance.

History has shown that enemies often arrive cloaked in goodwill — from colonial missionaries to diplomatic envoys with hidden agendas. While dharmic ideals offer moral clarity, survival demands situational intelligence — the ability to read between gestures and anticipate betrayal.

Hindus have oscillated between over-friendliness and outright hostility, often missing the middle path of strategic ambiguity.

Andy Grove’s Maxim, “Only the paranoid survive” wasn’t just corporate wisdom — it was a call to constant vigilance, especially in environments of hidden competition.

Chanakya advised rulers to trust no one fully, not even allies. Espionage, misinformation, and psychological warfare were tools of statecraft. In the Mahabharata, Krishna never revealed his full hand — he used silence, delay, and misdirection to keep adversaries off balance

He insisted that rulers must study the enemy’s psychology, alliances, ambitions, and vulnerabilities. Not just their actions — but their intentions. Every neighbour is a potential enemy or ally. The key is to anticipate shifts, not react to them. He built entire networks to infiltrate enemy courts, gather intelligence, and sow confusion — a proactive strategy, not a defensive one.

 

Sources:

www.hindupost.in/politics/shatrubodh-art-of-our-understanding-enemies/

www.stophindudvesha.org/shaastra-bodha-and-shatru-bodha/

www.firstpost.com/india/modi-parliament-india-lost-territories-haji-pir-neelum-chhad-bet-13915348.html

www.news18.com/india/was-returning-the-haji-pir-pass-to-pakistan-after-1965-war-a-big-mistake-ws-bdl-9316360.html

www.vajiramandravi.com/upsc-exam/shimla-agreement-1972/

www.worldwardocs.com/blog/Fate-of-Nazis-Post-World-War-Two-Explained/

www.ecommunemag.com/the-dark-history-of-hyderabad-nizam-rule-razakars-that-trs-and-tnm-dont-want-you-to-know/

www.liberationhyderabad.org/chronicles/atrocities-razakars

www.theweek.in/leisure/society/2021/09/30/tracing-razakar-legacy-when-razvis-granddaughter-visited-hyderabad.html

www.mkgandhi.org/articles/ahimsa-Its-theory-and-practice-in-Gandhism.php

www.litcharts.com/lit/the-ramayana/11-the-siege-of-lanka

www.pressbooks.pub/ramayana/chapter/chapter-8-the-war/

www.studocu.com/in/document/university-of-delhi/cbcs-bahonsenglish/krishnas-peace-proposal-in-the-mahabharata-a-critical-overview/126602749