Q1.
Aśhoka, in his edicts, tells the story of the Kalinga war. He could have chosen not to mention it and maintain his image as a peaceful, benevolent king for future generations. Why do you think he admitted to this destructive war?
Answer
Because the confession was the message. Without the war there is no change of heart — and the change of heart is what Aśhoka wanted the whole empire to learn from.
The strongest reasons:
- Remorse is the whole point. Saying “I was peaceful all along” teaches nobody anything. Saying “I waged a ferocious war, I saw the death and destruction, and I turned away from violence” gives his subjects a reason to follow dharma — if the emperor can change, so can anyone.
- It made his new policy believable. A ruler who had never fought could hardly claim to have given up fighting. His past made his conversion credible.
- It was a warning to others. The empire's neighbours and his own governors were being told, in public, what war really costs.
- It fits his idea of himself. He called himself Piyadasi, ‘one who regards others with kindness’, and told his officials “All men are my children”. A father who had hurt his children would say so.
- Honesty is part of dharma. Dharma includes “doing one's duty truthfully”. Hiding the war would have contradicted the very teaching he was inscribing on the rock.
Why it matters to historians: This is one of the rare moments in ancient history where a ruler records his own failure. Kings normally inscribe victories. The chapter also warns us, fairly, that “we need not take all of Aśhoka's claims literally” — an edict is still a ruler speaking about himself. But the Kalinga edict is the one claim that costs him something, which is exactly why it carries weight.
Did you know? Near Dhauli in Odisha — the region that was Kalinga — an edict of Aśhoka is carved on a rock, and beside it stands a life-size elephant cut from the living rock (Fig. 5.27, page 111), symbolising the Buddha: intelligent, powerful, patient and calm.