Violence: Hero or Villain?

The scene opens on two individuals, both raising sharpened blades high. One stands at the Bạch Đằng River, the wind billowing his flags, his eyes fixed with grim determination on the advancing Nam Han forces. Ngô Quyền gives the command. Wooden stakes are driven into the riverbed, awaiting the tide's retreat to reveal their deadly points. When the enemy surges in, their warships impale themselves on the forest of stakes, shattering and sinking into chaos. Ngô Quyền used force—strategic cunning combined with strength—to repel foreign invaders and reclaim independence for his nation. Our emotions? Pride and respect. We call him a "hero."

In a different scene, in a deserted alley, a young man’s face contorts with rage, his hand gripping a knife pulled from his pocket. Over a single mocking word at a drinking table, he lunges, stabbing the other to the ground, blood pooling on the pavement. Over a petty argument, he snuffs out a life. Our emotions? Outrage and horror. We call him a "murderer," a "terrorist," an "evil."

Both employed force. Both were acts of violence. Yet why is one celebrated and the other condemned? Wherein lies the difference?

The teacher sat in the center of the meditation hall, his voice deep and deliberate, as if wanting each word to imprint deeply upon the hearts of his disciples.

"Force itself is not at fault. The fault lies in the purpose for which we use it. If we use force for personal gain, to satisfy greed, to seize what is not ours, or to unleash anger and hatred—that is called violence, cruelty, terrorism. But if we use force to protect the community, to safeguard the common good, in a dire situation where law can no longer intervene—then, force becomes the quality of a hero."

A student asked in return, his voice full of doubt:

"Then, teacher, if a person has the ability to use force, practices martial arts, or carries a knife, how can we ensure they use it rightly and do not become a violent person?"

The teacher nodded, his gaze solemn:

"Morality. Only morality can govern force. A weak person, with no ability to resist, when threatened, may laugh it off and yield—but within their heart lies cowardice and fear. A person with the capacity for force, when facing the same situation, might also choose gentle words and yield—but this time, the yielding comes from a strong, disciplined mind. The difference is there."

He continued, his voice emphasizing:

"But the weak-minded person easily becomes submissive. And submissiveness is a sin of the soul that the saints never accept. They lose with their heads held high, never bowing in fear. That is the character of a saint. For us ordinary people, we must maintain courage while also training in some minimal defensive ability to protect ourselves and strengthen our spirit."

The teacher looked around the hall, his voice lowering:

"Force is necessary to adorn the mind with dignity. So that our mind never harbors a single moment of fear or cowardice before any power. As Confucius said: 'Might cannot subdue the upright.' No matter how powerful, they can never make us yield. And that fearless mind is the moral mind, the mind of freedom. We fear only one thing in this world—straying from the Buddha’s teachings. Beyond that, we fear nothing at all."

The story of the difference between a hero and a murderer is not mere theory. It is a lesson on how each person must cultivate themselves and train in morality to control their own strength, be it physical power, or the power of words and influence. When we use strength for the community's benefit, we become heroes. When we use it for ourselves, we become villains.

**The Meaning of the Story**

Force (physical strength) is a neutral capacity; it is not inherently faulty. Its moral value depends entirely on the motivation and purpose of its use. Using force to satisfy personal greed, hatred, or delusion, or to act outside the law, is malicious violence. Using it to protect the community in a critical situation is heroic. The crucial point is to possess the morality to control and direct the use of this strength. At the same time, each person needs to cultivate a minimum defensive ability so as not to fall into submissiveness or weakness—a spiritual flaw that the saints do not accept. The ultimate purpose of arming oneself with force is to "adorn the mind with dignity"—to make the mind fearless, to live in freedom and morality.

*Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang*