It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts

Hear the thunderous wisdom of Mahatma Gandhi, who declared: “It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence.” At first, this saying strikes like lightning, for it seems to shatter the gentle image of Gandhi as the apostle of peace. But look deeper, and we see that it is not a rejection of nonviolence, but an affirmation of truth. He teaches that it is better to act with honest passion—even in error—than to pretend at virtue while one’s heart festers with cowardice. For hypocrisy is more dangerous than violence, and impotence dressed in holiness is the greatest lie of all.

The origin of these words lies in Gandhi’s struggle to guide a nation under chains. In his leadership of India’s independence movement, he saw men who invoked the name of peace but lacked the courage to stand firm. He also saw men willing to fight, though not yet wise enough to embrace nonviolence. To these, he offered this paradox: that true nonviolence is not the refuge of the timid, but the weapon of the strong. If the fire of anger burns within, let it be shown openly, rather than concealed beneath false robes of meekness. Only then, through self-awareness, can that fire be transformed into disciplined strength.

History provides many mirrors to this truth. Consider the tale of Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita. On the field of Kurukshetra, Arjuna trembled before the battle, casting aside his bow, claiming the virtue of nonviolence. But Krishna rebuked him: cowardice is not compassion, hesitation is not peace. To shrink from duty under the guise of virtue is a betrayal of the self and the world. Better to fight in truth than to abstain in falsehood. Gandhi’s words carry the same flame—nonviolence must never be a mask for weakness; it must be the triumph of inner strength.

This teaching is not about glorifying violence. Gandhi, who devoted his life to ahimsa—the path of non-harm—reminds us that authentic nonviolence requires more courage than battle. To endure blows without striking back, to suffer oppression without hatred, demands a strength far beyond the sword. But if one has not yet cultivated that strength, it is better to admit it, even to act rashly, than to sully the holy name of peace with cowardice disguised as virtue.

The meaning for us is profound. How often do we wear cloaks of pretense—claiming to be patient while we seethe within, claiming to forgive while nursing silent grudges, claiming to be peaceful while our hearts are filled with fear? Such disguises are not virtue; they are impotence in noble clothing. Gandhi calls us to strip away the false robes and face ourselves with honesty. To confess, “There is violence in me,” is the first step toward transformation. To deny it is to chain ourselves to illusion.

Therefore, let us draw the lesson: authenticity is the root of all true growth. If your heart burns with anger, acknowledge it; if your spirit trembles with fear, face it. From that honesty comes the power to rise above it. But never use sacred ideals as a mask for weakness, nor proclaim virtues you do not yet embody. For the world has no need of false saints; it has need of souls who walk the hard road of truth.

Practically, this means cultivating courage in small ways. Speak truth even when your voice shakes. Confront your own anger rather than bury it beneath a smile. Train your heart daily, through discipline, service, and reflection, so that the fires of violence within may be transmuted into the light of compassion. True nonviolence is not the absence of strength—it is strength perfected.

So let Gandhi’s words be engraved upon the soul: better the warrior who admits his fury than the coward who hides behind the cloak of peace. But best of all is he who, through honesty and discipline, transforms his fury into fearless love. This is the way of the ancients, the way of Gandhi, the way that leads not to impotence or violence, but to the heroic strength of truth.