I had a long conversation with a learned friend recently – the kind that begins with conviction and ends in introspection. His argument was unapologetically firm: that leaders like Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu are attempting to rid the world of Islamic radicalism in Iran – a force he described as a ‘curse to humanity’. His conclusion followed naturally from that premise: if something is a curse, it must be eradicated.
It is a powerful argument. It is also a deeply dangerous one.
Because when viewed through the lens of Dharma, the argument does not stand, it unravels.
Dharma is not merely religion. It is not a doctrine or a dogma. It is the sustaining order of the universe — the moral rhythm that balances justice with compassion, with power, with restraint, and action with consequence. Dharma does not permit convenience to masquerade as righteousness.
And most importantly, Dharma does not allow us to dehumanise an entire people. I asked my friend a question rooted not in politics, but in Dharma: Who decides what is a ‘curse’?
History offers a chilling answer.
There was a time when Adolf Hitler declared Jews to be a curse upon humanity. The machinery of the The Holocaust was not built overnight. It was justified – intellectually, politically, and even morally – by those in power who believed they were acting in the interest of survival, purity, and order.
If Dharma had prevailed, that horror would never have occurred. Because Dharma draws a clear, unwavering distinction: you may fight Adharma, but you may not become Adharma in the process.
This is where the argument of eradication collapses. The evil of Islamic radicalism must be eradicated not the people.
In the framework of Dharma, there is no sanction for the destruction of an entire group based on perceived threat. The Bhagavad Gita does not preach annihilation of people – it teaches the destruction of Adharma, of unrighteousness, of evil conduct.
Even in the great war of the Mahabharata, the objective was not genocide. It was the restoration of Dharma. Warriors were fought because of their actions, their choices, their adherence to Adharma – not because of their birth, identity, or existence.
That distinction is everything. Dharma demands accountability of action, not condemnation of identity.
When my friend spoke of ‘Islamic radicals’ as a curse, I asked him: does Dharma permit you to expand that label to an entire people? To a nation? To a faith?
Because if it does, then tomorrow someone else – in power, with their own definition of Dharma – may decide that another group is the curse.
Perhaps a race. Perhaps a community. Perhaps even you and me.
Would it be Dharmic if a future ruler declared that a particular race lacks intelligence or civility and therefore threatens societal order? Would their power make it righteous?
Dharma answers unequivocally: No. Because Dharma is not dictated by power. Power is judged by Dharma. This is the fundamental difference between a civilisation rooted in Dharma and one driven by fear.
Fear seeks elimination. Dharma seeks balance. Fear dehumanises. Dharma discriminates between right and wrong without losing sight of humanity.
This does not mean Dharma is weak. Far from it. Dharma is capable of immense force when required. The Gita itself is delivered on a battlefield. Arjuna is not told to retreat from conflict, but to engage in it – with clarity, restraint, and righteousness.
Violence, in Dharma, is not forbidden. But it is bound. Bound by purpose. Bound by ethics. Bound by the refusal to descend into hatred.
To confront extremism is Dharmic. To protect one’s people is Dharmic. But to label entire populations as a ‘curse’ a justify their eradication – that is Adharma masquerading as righteousness.
And that is where civilisations lose their soul.
Because the moment we accept that some humans are inherently a ‘curse’, we have abandoned the very essence of Dharma. We have replaced discernment with prejudice, justice with vengeance, and righteousness with convenience.
The conversation with my friend did not end in agreement. But it ended in something more important – a pause.
A recognition that the language we use, the ideas we justify, and the fears we amplify must all be held accountable to something higher than power.
That something is Dharma. So where does it stop?It stops where Dharma draws the line.You may destroy Adharma. You may fight injustice.
You may defend your civilisation. But you may never – under any justification – declare an entire people to be a curse and seek their eradication.
Because the day you do that, you are no longer upholding Dharma. You have become the very Adharma you claim to fight.
