‘But there is nothing to understand! And if there is something to understand, there is only one thing to understand, and that is to surrender!’
The term ‘surrender’ is one that causes a fair degree of confusion for people during early stages of spiritual enquiry. Some may have encountered this key word in history texts as a means of signifying defeat, a final act that ends a war when all hope of a favourable outcome has been given up.
In the opening chapter of Bhagavad Gita, having examined an opposing army comprised of friends, relatives, and neighbours, Arjuna sinks down in his chariot in a state of despair, saying to Krishna: ‘It will be better for me if the sons of Dhrtarastra, with weapons in hand, were to kill me, who is unarmed and does not retaliate’ (v.46). This is a classical definition of military surrender in action.
Despite his noble intentions, Arjuna’s attitude towards the Mahabharata can be interpreted as a sign of weakness. Arjuna is overwhelmed by sorrow and has reached a point of incapacitation. His mental reserves are exhausted before battle has even begun and he is advocating surrender to avoid what he considers to be unnecessary bloodshed.
Popular images of military conflict reinforce this definition of surrender as defeat, where one party is seen as being subjugated by the strength of opposition. A white flag is raised and, heads bowed towards the ground, the ‘losers’ lay their weapons down.
If one were to apply such a definition to spiritual enquiry, it could easily be asserted that those who surrender to a higher Being have, in fact, given up. Unable to cope with everyday reality, they’ve said to themselves ‘that’s it, I’ve had enough. This is more than I can take, so I’m going to give up fighting as there is nothing I can do in order to achieve a favourable outcome in this situation.’
Yet in Bhagavad Gita the following chapters contain Krishna’s exhortations to Arjuna to do exactly the opposite. Krishna urges Arjuna to pick up his bow and get on with the work in hand, to engage in the battle that is waiting to happen.
From a religious standpoint, the concept of surrender isn’t necessarily passive. In fact, it involves active participation that tests spiritual maturity and involves surrendering individual identity, overcoming instinctive reactions of ego, and accepting one’s part in a greater scheme that transcends a generally-held world view of materialism and objects, a world of separation and subjectivity.
In the Christian Gospel of Luke, it says: ‘If any come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple (Luke 14:26).
This is the situation Arjuna faces before the authority of Krishna whilst surveying the battlefield. Arjuna identifies the opposing army as battalions of separate entities; friends, family, and neighbours. Most of us do the same when we think of our family - our parents, siblings, and children. At this point in Bhagavad Gita, Arjuna's world-view is skewed towards subjectivity and separation. Krishna, acting in an advisory capacity, isn’t literally encouraging warfare, any more than Luke's Gospel is inciting hatred. Krishna and Luke are both advocating the undertaking of a mighty struggle that will end in the dissolution of boundaries of division that form barriers of separateness.
The only death to occur during the course of the Mahabharata is the death of illusion and ignorance. Arjuna cannot be expected to know this at the outset of war. In order to accept Krishna’s advice, Arjuna must first surrender his personal judgement to Krishna’s authority, an act through which he will undergo a mental shift of seismic proportions that will finally result in surrender of selfhood in exchange for the unity of all-pervasive Brahman.
Such action involves courage, belief, and determination, which, far from being defeatist, are traits generally associated with success and victory.