Nonviolent Response to Assault

(abridged)

by Gerard A. Vanderhaar

Nonviolent Response To Assault (downloadable .PDF)

I’ve never been mugged - at least not yet. I have often thought, though, about what I would do if someone jumped out of the shadows with a knife and demanded my wallet. Or if that pair of teenagers on the isolated new York subway platform swaggered over and asked for twenty dollars. Or when I was stalled on an empty freeway a car suddenly pulled in front of me and the driver stepped out pointing a gun.

I don’t know what I would do, and I’ll never know until something like that happens. But right now, when I can think about it coherently, I know what I would like to do: remain calm. I would like to save my life, of course, and avoid whatever would trigger violence in my assailants. I would want to do whatever would diffuse the confrontation and turn it around.

Conventional wisdom says that if we can’t get away, we should either submit or fight back strongly. “Save your skin.” Self-preservation is nature’s first law, we’re told. Get by wit the least damage to ourselves. An empty wallet is better than a slit throat. Losing one’s virtue is better than losing one’s life.

If we really believe, however, that active nonviolence is an effective alternative to flight or fight in other areas of life, we need to explore how we can respond nonviolently when an assault occurs. Here are some tru stories about people who were not experienced in nonviolence, not committed to ahimsa, but who did just the right nonviolent thing at the right time.

Three events

A women with two children in a disabled car late one night on the New Jersey Turnpike looked up to see a man pointing a gun through her window. He ordered her to let him into the car. Instead of panicking, she looked him in the eye and, like an angry mother, commanded, “You put that gun away and get in you car and push me to the service area. And I mean right now!” He looked startled, pu the gun away, went back to his car, and did as ordered, pushed her car to the service area.

A colleague of mine walking late one winter afternoon was jumped by two young men hiding in the bushes under a viaduct. They demanded money. He said he didn’t have any. They began punching him, repeating their demand for money. He felt helpless and didn’t know what to do. Then it flashed into his mind to call for the only assistance he could think of. He rolled his eyes and started shouting, “Jesus help me. Jesus help me!” And they stopped hitting him and looked at him as if her were crazy. And they ran away.

A lady drove into the parking garage of Memphis’ largest hospital one afternoon to visit a friend. As she eased her car into a space dhe noticed a strange-looking man lurking nearby. No one else was in sight. She usually kept a gun in her glove compartment, she said later, but that afternoon she had left home without it. She had to think fast. She got out of the car, and as the man came over, she looked squarely at him and said in as firm a voice as she could muster, “I’m so glad there’s a man around. Could you walk me to the elevator?” He replied meekly, “Yes, ma’am.” She thanked him, got on the elevator alone - and practically collapsed out of fear and relief.

Although none of the three people were committed to nonviolence, they had improvised what we recognize as a true nonviolent response. They did not act like victims. They engaged the potential assailants as human beings, and in two of the incidents managed to evoke a sense of decency that resulted in their being helped rather than hurt.

Gerald A. Vanderhaar is professor emeritus, Christian Brothers University, Memphis, TN.