Vinayak Damodar Savarkar, a prominent thinker of Hindu nationalism, chose to forgo food and water in his final years, viewing this act not as suicide (atma-hatya) but as a spiritual offering to the soul (atma-arpan). He believed this path was followed by many Hindu saints and intellectuals throughout history.

In contrast, Japanese culture glorifies ritualistic forms of self-inflicted death, such as seppuku or harakiri. Popularized in samurai lore, this involved a warrior disemboweling himself with a sword, often followed by a companion delivering a decapitating blow. Seen as a form of martyrdom, this practice was distinct from suicide, which many cultures, including Japan, considered sinful. The glorification of battlefield deaths similarly relied on rebranding, portraying them as acts of bravery or loyalty rather than despair.

Savarkar sought to adapt similar ideas to Indian traditions. Since Sanskrit lacked a term for martyrdom, he replaced the Muslim term shaheed (meaning “witness to Islamic truth”) with hutat-atma, a word he coined to signify self-sacrifice. Today, the term vira-gati—”the path of the brave”—is often used by soldiers instead.

Such self-sacrifice, whether for spirituality, religion, patriotism, or pride, was framed as atma-arpan rather than atma-hatya. Critics may view this distinction as a rhetorical convenience rather than a genuine difference.

This concept resonates in various Indian traditions. Across Karnataka, ancient stone slabs commemorate Jain monks and kings who starved themselves to death through sallekhana, a practice intended to burn away karmic debts and attain liberation. Jain lore recounts how figures like Chandragupta Maurya and his mentor Chanakya embraced sallekhana over 2,300 years ago.

Hindu epics also reflect similar themes. In the Ramayana, Rama walks into a river, disappearing forever. In the Mahabharata, the Pandavas climb mountains to their deaths, and their relatives willingly perish in a forest fire. These acts were seen not as suicides but as conscious renunciation of the body. Similarly, yogis were believed to use spiritual techniques to voluntarily release their final breath, an idea echoed in Vedantic and Buddhist texts where defeated scholars were expected to relinquish their lives through fire, drowning, or other means.

 

Historically, such acts have been romanticized or explained as spiritual sacrifices. The 8th-century philosopher Kumaril Bhat burned himself alive, allegedly out of guilt for doubting the Vedas. Some Buddhists suggest his act was motivated by shame imposed by Buddhist teachers. Similarly, the Bhakti saint Dyaneshwara in 13th-century Maharashtra ended his life in a cave at the age of 21, a decision scholars attribute to trauma inflicted by Brahmin adversaries. These events are often labeled as ritual suicides, though they may also reflect psychological distress.

During colonial times, Hindus struggled to rationalize such practices to their European rulers, who viewed suicide as sinful, a perspective rooted in Christian and Islamic beliefs. Even today, the societal reaction to self-inflicted death varies. Acts driven by depression are often condemned, while those carried out for political or religious motives are sometimes valorized. This dichotomy highlights the complexity of cultural narratives surrounding voluntary death and sacrifice.

 

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