Sanjay Lal

In what follows, I question anger’s value for social activism and discourse. I focus on two little discussed aspects of anger. I argue that these aspects reflect problematic philosophical understandings that may be more serious than perhaps most events which are thought to give rise to anger. I will also argue that the functional value of anger is (at best) questionable given the role other, less damaging, human emotions are capable of playing in producing good outcomes. Additionally, I argue that one need not deny the functional value of anger altogether to reject its overall importance for motivating moral action.

After decades of service to The Acorn, editor Barry Gan--who received the journal from founding editor Ha Poong Kim--has passed the responsibility along. We are happy to announce that the editorial and business office of The Acorn has found a new home at the Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies of Texas State University. For more than a decade, The Acorn has been affiliated with a society that we have recently renamed the Gandhi, King, Chavez, Addams Society (GKCAS). The new name adds Cesar Chavez and Jane Addams to the short list of role models that the society seeks to honor through scholarly study, but the short list is not intended to be exclusive. As a result of reorganization and transition we are adopting a new subtitle of the journal as follows, The Acorn: Philosophical Studies in Pacifism and Nonviolence.

Two critics respond to Predrag Cicovacki’s book, Gandi’s Footprints. Cicovacki opens the discussion by presenting his motivations for exploring a paradox, that Gandhi’s work is widely revered but not widely emulated. Cicovacki explores a resolution to the paradox by suggesting how Gandhi’s promising visions may be followed without being imitated, especially Gandhi’s insight that we must seek spiritual grounding for life in a materialistic world. Critic Sanjay Lal affirms Cicovacki’s insight but suggests that precisely because Gandhi’s aspirations for spiritual life were profoundly transformative we should take care not to dilute them into our conventional wisdoms. Critic Carlo Filice asks how Gandhi’s commitment to unified reality could be more clearly articulated once a distinction is drawn between spirit and matter, also how Gandhi’s nonviolence could manage to embrace important exceptions. In reply to critics, Cicovacki proposes an approach to Gandhi informed by the insights of Tagore.

Two critics respond to Predrag Cicovacki’s book, Gandi’s Footprints. Cicovacki opens the discussion by presenting his motivations for exploring a paradox, that Gandhi’s work is widely revered but not widely emulated. Cicovacki explores a resolution to the paradox by suggesting how Gandhi’s promising visions may be followed without being imitated, especially Gandhi’s insight that we must seek spiritual grounding for life in a materialistic world. Critic Sanjay Lal affirms Cicovacki’s insight but suggests that precisely because Gandhi’s aspirations for spiritual life were profoundly transformative we should take care not to dilute them into our conventional wisdoms. Critic Carlo Filice asks how Gandhi’s commitment to unified reality could be more clearly articulated once a distinction is drawn between spirit and matter, also how Gandhi’s nonviolence could manage to embrace important exceptions. In reply to critics, Cicovacki proposes an approach to Gandhi informed by the insights of Tagore.

Andrew Fitz-Gibbon in Pragmatic Nonviolence: Working Toward a Better World argues that a principled form of pragmatism—pragmatism shaped by the theory of nonviolence—is the best hope for our world. He defines nonviolence as “a practice that, whenever possible seeks the well-being of the Other, by refusing to use violence to solve problems, and by having an intentional commitment to lovingkindness.” In the first part of the book, Fitz-Gibbon asks what a better world would look like. In the second part, he covers what is the greatest obstacle to that better world: violence. In the third part, he examines philosophical theories of nonviolence. The fourth part examines pragmatism as a philosophy of “what works” (William James) through the lens of the principle of maximizing well-being through nonviolent practice. In response to Fitz-Gibbon’s work, critic Danielle Poe asks what a nonviolence response looks like to the Other whom we have wronged and wonders how nonviolence responds to systemic violence. Sanjay Lal asks whether pragmatism and nonviolence can be synthesized given the popular conception that the pragmatic possible seems at odds with the ideal of absolute nonviolence. William C. Gay affirms much of the text and suggests its uses in teaching. Mechthild Nagel wonders if Fitz-Gibbon’s pragmatic nonviolence is too anthropocentric and questions the absence of a consideration of systemic violence in the criminal justice system. Fitz-Gibbon then responds to the critics.

In this author-meets-critics dialogue, Sanjay Lal, author of, argues that Gandhian values of nonviolence raise aspirations of liberal democracy to a higher level. Since Gandhian values of nonviolence are closely associated with religious values, liberal democracy should make public commitments to religions on a non-sectarian basis, except for unreasonable religions. Critic Jeff Shawn Jose agrees that Gandhian values can strengthen liberal democracy. However, Jose finds a contradiction in Lal’s proposal that a liberal state should support reasonable religions only. A more consistent Gandhian approach would focus on everyday interactions between citizens and groups rather than state-directed preferences. Critic Douglas Allen also welcomes Lal’s project that brings Gandhian philosophy into relation with liberal democratic theory; however, he argues that universalizing the Absolute Truth of genuine religion is more complicated than Lal acknowledges. D. Allen argues for a Gandhian approach of relative truths, which cannot be evaluated apart from contingency or context, and he offers autobiographical evidence in support of his critical suspicion of genuine religion. Critic Michael Allen argues that Lal’s metaphysical approach to public justification violates a central commitment of political liberalism not to take sides on any metaphysical basis. M. Allen argues that democratic socialism is closer to Gandhi’s approach than is liberalism. Lal responds to critics by arguing that Gandhi’s evaluation of unreasonable religions depends upon an assessment of violence, which is not as problematic as critics charge, either from a Gandhian perspective or a liberal one. Furthermore, by excluding unreasonable or violent religions from state promotion, Lal argues that he is not advocating state suppression. Finally, Lal argues that Gandhian or Kingian metaphysics are worthy of support by liberal, democratic states seeking to educate individuals regarding peaceful unity in diversity.

What do our studies of Gandhi tell us about the current crisis of health and politics in the US? The crisis intersects growing realization of the disproportionate impact of the pandemic on poor communities of color with general resistance to policing tactics and policies that are widely considered exercises of systemic racism. One significant response to this situation has been the “defund the police” movement, pressing for systemic institutional change in policing. However, for us, defund is not so much about weakening the state sector. Instead, it is about strengthening community participation in planning decisions about how public funds might be reallocated, not to pay for more tactical gear for cops but more social workers, community investments, and so on.

In this author-meets-critics dialogue, Douglas Allen, author of argues that Gandhi-informed philosophies and practices, when creatively reformulated and applied, are essential for developing positions that are ethical, nonviolent, truthful, and sustainable, providing resources and hope for confronting our ‘Gandhi after 9/11’ crises. Critics Sanjay Lal and Karsten Struhl applaud Allen’s demonstration that Gandhi’s nonviolence is serious and broadly adaptable to the twenty-first century. Yet, Lal poses two philosophical challenges, arguing first that the nonviolent message of the Bhagavad Gita is perhaps more essential than Allen allows. Second, Lal raises difficulties involved in placing the needs of others first, especially in response to terrorism. Struhl wonders if the Gita is not more violent than Gandhi or Allen represent it to be. Struhl also questions whether relative claims are always resolved in the direction of Absolute Truth, as Gandhi and Allen assert. Finally, critic Struhl wonders how we can restrain institutions from escalating cycles of violence once we grant Gandhi-based exceptions that would allow violence to suppress terrorism. Against Lal’s objections, Allen defends a more open-ended reading of the Gita and agrees that our service to the needs of others cannot go so far as to embrace their terrorism. In response to Struhl, Allen agrees that there are indeed problems with a nonviolent reading of the Gita, but there are resources to support Gandhi’s view. Likewise, regarding relations between our limited truths and the Absolute, Allen grants that Struhl has identified real problems but that a final defense is possible, especially when we consider motivational factors. As for limiting cycles of violence, Allen argues that a Gandhi-informed use of violence implies considerations that limit its use.

Among those who have worked for uplifting the poor, Mahatma Gandhi occupies a unique place. Although his reform efforts received ample financial support from well-off benefactors, Gandhi’s personal life exemplified ideals of voluntary poverty and renouncement. On Martha Nussbaum’s account of stoicism, Gandhi’s voluntary renouncement may imply morally unacceptable reasoning regarding nonviolence and the plight of the poor. Nussbaum argues that the stoic disparagement of external things of fortune implies that they cannot coherently oppose external harms such as torture or rape as unjust. Furthermore, on Nussbaum’s account, stoic flexibility regarding the duty to render material aid provides insufficient ethical grounds for relieving the injustice of poverty. Applying Nussbaum’s critique of stoicism to Gandhi, I ask if Gandhi’s personal-life renouncement of external things exposes his philosophy to vulnerabilities that Nussbaum finds in the stoics. I then respond to the critique. With the stoics, Gandhi does deny that states of simple living are genuinely bad; therefore, pursuing ethical life means seeking some states of poverty. Nevertheless, based on Gandhian values of freedom, equality, sustainability, service, and character, there are coherent ethical grounds in Gandhian thought for pursuing nonviolence while fighting global poverty. I explicate a Gandhian view of social uplift that vitally connects individual character to social well-being. I also illuminate a Gandhian model of poverty eradication that reveals deficiencies in a model of poverty eradication that depends solely on the value of external things of fortune.

Among those who have worked for uplifting the poor, Mahatma Gandhi occupies a unique place. Although his reform efforts received ample financial support from well-off benefactors, Gandhi’s personal life exemplified ideals of voluntary poverty and renouncement. On Martha Nussbaum’s account of stoicism, Gandhi’s voluntary renouncement may imply morally unacceptable reasoning regarding nonviolence and the plight of the poor. Nussbaum argues that the stoic disparagement of external things of fortune implies that they cannot coherently oppose external harms such as torture or rape as unjust. Furthermore, on Nussbaum’s account, stoic flexibility regarding the duty to render material aid provides insufficient ethical grounds for relieving the injustice of poverty. Applying Nussbaum’s critique of stoicism to Gandhi, I ask if Gandhi’s personal-life renouncement of external things exposes his philosophy to vulnerabilities that Nussbaum finds in the stoics. I then respond to the critique. With the stoics, Gandhi does deny that states of simple living are genuinely bad; therefore, pursuing ethical life means seeking some states of poverty. Nevertheless, based on Gandhian values of freedom, equality, sustainability, service, and character, there are coherent ethical grounds in Gandhian thought for pursuing nonviolence (with its proscription of external harms) while fighting global poverty (with attention to material needs). I explicate a Gandhian view of social uplift that vitally connects individual character to social well-being. I also illuminate a Gandhian model of poverty eradication that reveals deficiencies in a model of poverty eradication that depends solely on the value of external things of fortune.

In our feature presentation, “Mahatma Gandhi’s Philosophy of Nonviolence and Truth" Douglas Allen explicates central Gandhian values and concepts in a way that gives readers a kind of ‘one stop’ source for appreciating Gandhi’s nonviolence. In an author-meets-critics dialogue, Court Lewis, author of Repentance and the Right to Forgiveness, defends and clarifies his argument that wrongdoers have a right to forgiveness. Our reviews in this issue invite comparative analysis: Philip J. Rossi’s book on The Ethical Commonwealth in History; a collection of essays on Tolstoy and Spirituality; the third volume of The Selected Papers of Jane Addams; George Monbiot's Out of the Wreckage; and Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s book, As We Have Always Done: Indigenous Freedom Through Radical Resistance.

While there has been no shortage of philosophical writings dealing with humanity’s great struggles there is a notable absence within academic philosophy in asserting a broad, overriding, and natural place for philosophical analysis regarding such issues—a role which can be crucial in making us better people. In the first part of this paper, I will discuss the notable absence of certain character traits on the part of activists fighting for a better world that are essential for attaining the lofty goals protest movements aim for. I will then show that philosophy is uniquely suited for helping develop such traits. In the last part of this paper, I will discuss possible areas of philosophical exploration that would be particularly fruitful for making us better people. My intention is to ultimately help establish a unique and irreplaceable role academic philosophy can have in activist movements.

The often heard (and justified) lament that academics do not adequately communicate their ideas to the broader general public has been particularly applicable to those theorists, like scholars of nonviolence, who work on the pressing moral issues facing our world. This work, ultimately the result of co-editor Predgrag Cicovacki’s deep and abiding interest in Jainism, does much to counter such impressions. Comprised of two volumes and forty-six chapters, Nonviolence as A Way of Life brings together insights from a notable international array of fifty-four writers on peace and nonviolence. These writers, who represent 12 countries and 5 continents, have their contributions formally segmented into three parts—history, theory, and practice--even though considerable overlap on these matters is understandably present. The various commentaries are ultimately (albeit loosely) tied together by their discussing issues of nonviolence explicitly under the rubric of the ancient Jain notion of ahimsa.

It is well known that notions of individual sovereignty, universal rights, and the duty to follow one’s own conscience are central to the philosophy of Mahatma Gandhi. The importance Gandhi places on community, tradition, and fulfilling duties particular to one’s place in life is no less noticeable in his writings. That such is the case may indicate an uneasy tension among different elements in Gandhian thought. In the first section of this paper, I argue that an underlying harmony in Gandhi’s philosophy can be noticed among such seemingly contradictory liberal and communitarian values given his overall views on self-realization. Crucial to my arguments in this section will be an exposition of Gandhi’s views on religious conversion and caste identity. I will then show the value Gandhi’s understanding has for contemporary philosophical debates between liberals and communitarians. Before concluding, I will consider a problem that arises for my interpretation of Gandhi’s thought given perceived universal duties we have toward others.

Having freedom from the fear of death is a quality needed not just by peace activists; however, it is in particular need of affirmation by those espousing a philosophy of nonviolence. A rich philosophical literature explores the supposed harmfulness of death, but the topic is scarcely discussed by peace theorists. This paper shows the significance of the topic for highlighting the attractiveness of nonviolent philosophy given certain non-religious understandings of death that are well suited for advancing nonviolence. Classic Stoic and Epicurean disavowals of the harmfulness of death are presented, criticisms of the Epicurean position are outlined, and the example of Mahatma Gandhi is provided as an ally to Epicureans in response to the criticisms discussed. The second part of the paper more concretely illuminates the implications that a Gandhian rejection of the harmfulness of death has for living nonviolently in everyday life.

To Andrew Fitz-Gibbon the history of Northern Ireland provides much useful insight by which progress can be made in the on-going (and seemingly never ending) vicious conflicts between Israelis and Palestinians that our world has not been able to break free of. In the first three chapters of “Talking to Terrorists” the Northern Ireland conflicts are placed within a very accessible and surprisingly thorough (given the book’s brevity) context. In his final chapter “Toward a Peaceful Future” Fitz-Gibbon identifies and elaborates upon seven specific areas “where the Northern Ireland Peace Process might inform the situation between Israel and Gaza."

In this essay. I explore questions pertaining to ‘radical’ acts of forgiveness as they relate to considerations of duties and justice. I will survey recent examples and show a possible philosophical basis for understanding them in terms of self-duty. Thus I will try to show that a little noticed basis exists for understanding acts of radical forgiveness as morally required (and not simply admirable or reserved for the saintly). I argue both that considerations of self-duty can provide a secular basis for justifying radical acts of forgiveness and that problems associated with this kind of forgiveness and justice are not as serious as they are often taken to be.

Alongside Bindhu Puri’s The Tagore-Gandhi Debate on Matters of Truth and Untruth and Predrag Cicovacki’s Gandhi’s Footprints (see further discussion in this issue) can be placed Anuradha Veeravalli’s Gandhi in Political Theory: Truth, Law, and Experiment as a significant contribution to the aim of showing the academic bona fides of Gandhian philosophy. Though technically, Veeravalli’s explicit emphasis is on understanding Gandhi as a political theorist and not as a philosopher per se, the philosophical import of her attempts to explicate the profound theoretical and experimental underpinnings of Gandhi’s work is undeniable.

Considerations of justice and rights are assumed to present problems for the idea that we should do that which we take to be supererogatory. I argue that careful consideration of how we think of justice and rights lead to the conclusion that "supererogatory" actions are actually better grouped within the class of acts we identify as moral requirements. My argument is based on our common understanding of justice as being incompatible with free-riding. Additionally, I focus attention on our implicit assumption that we possess the right to benefit by that which, we agree, is made possible from the willingness of others to go beyond perceived moral requirements. Thus, I conclude we should re-tihink where we draw the line demarcating the required from the saintly.

Like the dominant moral philosophers in the Western tradition, Mahatma Gandhi reaches moral conclusions that emphasize universality, impartiality, and detachment. This is in apparent contrast to feminist philosophers who have put forth a scheme for reaching moral conclusions that gives centrality to feeling, experience, and interdependence. In the following, I show that Gandhi shares significant agreement with feminists in spite of the kinds of moral conclusions he reaches. The crucial difference between Gandhi and the feminist critics lies in how the distinctiveness of the other is understood. For Gandhi, I show, that the distinctiveness of others which evokes our affection is significant only in so far as it is a starting point that aides us in reaching the highest form of moral concern—a kind of agape (unselfish love for all)

Key aspects of Mahatma Gandhi’s ethical theory can be understood by way of the framework provided by David Hume’s ethics. While respecting contextual differences as well as those in over all outlook between a Sanatani Hindu reformer and a Western empiricist, I show that Gandhi and Hume mutually illuminate each other’s thought on significant ethical matters. These matters are: (1) The inability of reason to produce action (2) The relationship of reason to the emotions (3) The importance of the commonality of moral sentiments among humans (4) Identification (a kind of sympathy) as the proper starting place for morality. I hope to show that a greater viability in each thinker’s views can be noticed by those schooled in traditions different from what each respectively represent.David Hume’s ethics provide a framework for understanding key aspects of Mahatma Gandhi’s ethical theory. Indeed, for certain students of philosophy in the West, Gandhian ethics may gain status as a viable approach in moral philosophy when seen from a Humean standpoint. In what follows, I will examine four significant aspects of Gandhian ethics: (1) The limitations of reason to produce moral action. (2) The secondary status of reason in relation to the emotions in morality. (3) The importance of moral sentiments in the general population for devising a system of morality. (4) The place of identification (a kind of sympathy) for the origin of morality. I will show that all four are not only significant aspects of Humean ethics but that when understood from David Hume’s framework these parts of Gandhi’s philosophy should appear all the more plausible to those steeped in the analytic tradition.

Though it is clear that in Gandhi’s mind nonviolence and love are equivalent to one another, it is not so difficult to think of situations indicative of a real tension between these two concepts. This is the case given common understandings we have of love. I argue that for Gandhi these apparent tensions are resolved when we consider the degree to which certain necessary conditions are present in any given acts of love. Thus I show that Gandhi’s view regarding the equivalence of nonviolence and love is capable of withstanding problems that arise from supposing there are different types of love.