The teaching on the self (Gita 2.11–30 in the previous topic) answered Arjuna's grief: what cannot die is not worth mourning as lost. Immediately after it the Lord changes language and speaks of duty, honour, disgrace and what people will say (Gita 2.31–37). A careful reader asks three things. What does each verse claim? Why does the Lord use motives that the Gita itself later lets go of? And is this a case for war?

In short: the Lord speaks to Arjuna on the ground where Arjuna stands, the ground of his station, his name and the eyes of others. Each verse presses one point. But the next verse changes the footing, asking for evenness in gain and loss, and promising that no sin follows then (Gita 2.38). And the whole passage is spoken to a warrior about one occasion.

Only these seven verses are read here. The teaching of the self is in The Imperishable Self, the deeper meaning of one's own duty is in One's Own Duty, and the turn to evenness and yoga is in Buddhi Yoga: The Resolute Intellect.

The seven verses in one view

The seven verses as they stand

The wording of these verses is stable, and there are no variant readings that change the sense, so the reading goes straight to the meaning.

Close reading, verse by verse

Looking at your own duty, too. The first verse begins with a small word, "also": looking at your own duty as well, you should not waver (Gita 2.31). The teaching of the self stood complete. The Lord now adds a second footing: leave the self aside for a moment, and your duty still stands before you. The verb for wavering has the sense of shaking. "Your own duty" here is what belongs to Arjuna because he is a warrior. The verse itself names the warrior, and says that for a warrior nothing is a greater good than a war on the side of dharma. It is said to a warrior and to no one else.

A chance that came by itself. The war has come without being sought (Gita 2.32). Arjuna did not choose it. The Lord calls it an open door to heaven and says that fortunate warriors get such a war. That is a promise of reward in the terms of the age, but note how the verse puts the occasion: it is a chance that has arrived, not one that is being hunted.

The question of sin turns round. Arjuna's fear was of sin. He said that sin alone would cling to him if he killed (Gita 1.36), and later wondered at having resolved on so great a sin (Gita 1.45). The Lord turns the same word round: if you do not fight this righteous battle, you will lose your duty and your good name and incur sin (Gita 2.33). Two losses are named, duty and name. And the sentence is a conditional. It speaks of one particular choice.

Disgrace and the eyes of the great. People will speak of your lasting disgrace, and for the honoured, disgrace is worse than death (Gita 2.34). The great warriors will think that you withdrew from fear, and those who held you high will see you small (Gita 2.35). The fine point lies in the second verse. It speaks of how the act will be read, not of what it is. Arjuna's own state when he put down his bow was compassion (Gita 1.28). Others will call it fear. The appeal does not say that he is afraid. It says that people will say so.

Ridicule. The enemies will say many unspeakable things, mocking his ability. "What could be more painful than that?" (Gita 2.36) The verse is a question, not a command, and it gives voice to a pain Arjuna already feels.

Two outcomes, and rising resolved. Slain, you will reach heaven; victorious, you will enjoy the earth. Therefore rise, resolved (Gita 2.37). The resolve here rests on outcome: whichever way it goes, something is gained, so there is no reason to stop. In the verses that follow, the ground of resolve changes. The resolute understanding becomes a single one, against the many-branched understanding of the irresolute (Gita 2.41), and it rests on evenness, not on result.

The whole appeal depends on the word "righteous"

Both the first and the third verse give the war the same description: it is a war on the side of dharma (Gita 2.31, Gita 2.33). The appeal stands on that word. The argument from duty and name works only when the act is right in itself. Fear of what people will say does not make a wrong act right. Nowhere in the seven verses is it said that one should do anything at all to save one's name. The loss of name is put as the price of not doing what has already been described as righteous.

It helps to turn this round. Suppose a person is being pushed by fear of a colleague's taunts toward a wrong act. These verses do not take his side, because there the act is not already righteous. That is why the appeal never stands alone. It goes with the principle of one's own duty (Gita 3.35) and with the even mind (Gita 2.38).

A better reason to care how one is seen

The sting of disgrace is the sting of one's own name. The Gita gives another reason why other people's eyes matter. In the third chapter the Lord says that Janaka and others reached perfection through action, and that you should act even with an eye to the welfare of the world (Gita 3.20). Whatever a great person does, others follow (Gita 3.21).

Put on Arjuna's situation, the worry becomes of two kinds. One is "my name will be spoiled", which the Gita makes small beside the even mind. The other is "what am I showing those who are affected by my conduct?", which the Gita does not dismiss. The first worry is about oneself, the second about others. The second is taken up in full in Acting for the World.

Where the Gita goes from here

The very next verse is the turn. Treat pleasure and pain, gain and loss, victory and defeat alike, and then engage; thus you will not incur sin (Gita 2.38). The Lord then says that so far the teaching has been given in the way of Sankhya, and now he will give it in the way of yoga (Gita 2.39). A little further he speaks of those whose minds are full of desire and who hold heaven to be the highest goal (Gita 2.42–43). So the heaven promised earlier (Gita 2.32, Gita 2.37) is the very thing that the Gita later puts below the highest goal.

On honour the Gita's last word is also different. The devotee who is balanced in honour and dishonour is dear to the Lord (Gita 12.18–19), and one who has passed beyond the strands of nature is equal in honour and dishonour (Gita 14.25). To read the verses on disgrace (Gita 2.34–36) as saying that honour is the Gita's highest value is to read against the Gita. How evenness is possible has been said earlier too: the pleasure and pain that come from contact with the world come and go and do not last, so they can be borne (Gita 2.14). Praise and blame are contacts of the same kind. This is taken up in Equanimity.

The links with the rest of the Gita:

How the commentators read this appeal

The commentators fall into two streams on how much weight to give these seven verses. One stream takes them as a concession to Arjuna's worldly standpoint: the Lord first speaks in Arjuna's own language, so that Arjuna can be lifted from there, and then turns to evenness and yoga. On this reading the seven verses are the lower, first step (Gita 2.31–37). The other stream takes them as a true statement of dharma for a person standing where Arjuna stands, to which the next verse adds the inner attitude (Gita 2.38). Both streams agree that this verse is the turn. Each is stated here with equal confidence.

Objections and replies

Does the Lord not use motives that the Gita later sets aside?

He does, but as Arjuna's ground, not as the final aim. No verse in the seven says that reputation is the goal. The next verse makes evenness the footing instead of reward (Gita 2.38), heaven as the highest goal is soon criticised (Gita 2.42–43), and the settled ideal is evenness in honour and dishonour (Gita 12.18–19, Gita 14.25). So these seven verses are a first step, not the end.

Can one conclude from this that war is good?

No. The verse names the warrior (Gita 2.31) and calls the war one that came unsought (Gita 2.32), and everything said is about that occasion. The Gita gives no general rule that war is good. It counts non-violence among the divine qualities (Gita 16.2), and Arjuna's own state was compassion (Gita 1.28). Reading these verses as a defence of violence goes beyond what they say.

Is the sin in fighting or in not fighting?

They speak by different measures. Arjuna weighs the sin of killing his own people (Gita 1.36, Gita 1.45); the Lord weighs the loss of duty and good name (Gita 2.33). The next verse resolves the clash between them: action done with an even mind does not bind with sin (Gita 2.38). Whether there is sin depends on the mind that acts, not on the result.

Is "your own duty" in 2.31 the same as in 3.35 and 18.47?

Here it is Arjuna's duty, since the verse names the warrior. Later verses state a principle: one's own duty, even imperfect, is better than another's well done (Gita 3.35, Gita 18.47–48). How that principle is to be understood in terms of nature, quality and action is the subject of One's Own Duty. This reading does not turn the verse into a rule for everyone, and it does not take a side in the later debates about it.

Is the Lord shaming Arjuna into agreeing?

The words are hard, but three things are worth noting. First, Arjuna himself asked to be taught. He said that he was the Lord's disciple and had taken refuge in him, and asked to be told what is truly better (Gita 2.7). A teacher speaking plainly is answering that request. Second, this is only one ground, and in the next verse the ground changes (Gita 2.38). Third, at the end of the teaching the Lord leaves the choice with Arjuna (Gita 18.63). Someone who wants to win by shame does not leave the choice open.

Did the appeal work on Arjuna?

Not yet. In the next chapter he asks why, if understanding is better than action, he is being urged to a terrible deed, and says that the Lord's words seem to bewilder him (Gita 3.1–2). The appeal to duty and honour did not settle his confusion. The matter comes to its close only at the end, where the Lord says that to refuse out of ego is a false resolve (Gita 18.59–60) and leaves the final choice to Arjuna (Gita 18.63), as The Final Counsel shows.

Questions the verses raise, answered from the Gita and the tradition

Two questions rise from these seven verses: whether concern for honour is ever a right motive, and what the verses say to someone who is not a warrior. The Gita answers both.

Is concern for honour ever a right motive?

The Gita separates two kinds of concern. Honour as a goal is not right: the Lord's own measure is evenness in honour and dishonour (Gita 12.18–19, Gita 14.25), and the next verse moves the ground from result to an even mind (Gita 2.38). But concern for how one's conduct stands before others is right when it means responsibility. Whatever a leading person does, others follow, and the world takes his conduct as its measure (Gita 3.20–21). So a person guards his conduct for the sake of those who watch it, and not for his own fame. The two streams above lean differently on how much of the seven verses is this and how much a first step, but both would accept this division.

The tradition has an example in Rama, who is called the Supreme Man of right limits: his conduct was kept within bounds so that it could be a standard for others.

What do the seven verses say to someone who is not a warrior?

They speak through the principle behind them. One's own duty is better than another's, even if imperfectly done (Gita 3.35, Gita 18.47); a person reaches perfection by worshipping the Lord through the work that fits his own nature (Gita 18.46); and the manner in which the act is to be done is evenness (Gita 2.38). So for anyone the question becomes: which right act stands in front of me, and can I do it with an even mind, without fear of blame and without a wish for praise? This is read for ordinary life in One's Own Duty.

So no question these verses raise is left empty. The verses give the direction, the rest of the Gita develops it, and the tradition explains it through examples and streams.

Going deeper

The same matter, begun from an ordinary situation, is in the simple reading.