From generation to generation, the same disease is passed on again and again. Out of the best intentions, parents, teachers, all sorts of leaders and preachers insistently promote the idea of competition, comparison, and ambitious drives, preparing the child for an irreconcilable struggle that they must enter in order to survive—or more simply, for cruelty and aggression. They know: if you are not aggressive, you will be left behind. You must assert yourself by putting all your strength into it. You must compete with such zeal as if your life depended on it. This is the structure of our entire educational system. In school, I was almost always the best student in class—not because I was very diligent or attended every single lesson. It was simply that I discovered the curriculum we were being taught could be mastered in two months, even though we spent a whole year on it. Therefore, I devoted myself to studying only during the last two months of the school year, and spent the rest of the time doing whatever I wanted.
The teachers were amazed by this. And when I returned home on the day final grades were posted and told my father that I had finished the year better than anyone in class, he invariably said: "That means your class is full of fools." "Strange," I replied, "when other children get good grades, their parents are happy, but you seem upset that I study with fools. You think that's the only reason I have the best results, and otherwise I wouldn't have had any chance." He never encouraged me; he never said, "Well done, you deserve a reward." He never praised me. The only thing he always said was: "Strange, but you always manage to get into a class of fools—naturally, you become the best." But such an attitude is rare. Parents use every possible incentive: "Be the best and you will be rewarded. Be the best—it will bring respect to your parents, to your family." You are taught that you must be ahead of others at any cost. And sooner or later, this takes a toll on the child—they try to run faster. Even if they have to harm someone to break ahead, they will do it. Violence will always be a sure sign of a society gripped by the spirit of competition.
In such a society, there are no friends. Everyone pretends to be your friend, but in reality, everyone is your enemy, because everyone strives to climb the same ladder. Everyone is your enemy because their success is your failure. Very quickly, people master the and art of tripping each other up and using dirty methods, because this provides an advantage and allows them to take a shortcut.
When I taught at the university, I had one student... there was something about him that on exam day, no teacher wanted to be left alone in the room with him. A real thug—he looked like he might kill someone at any moment. Here is what he usually did: he would come to the exam with a knife and place it next to him on the desk so everyone could see it. No professor dared to go near him. He brought cheat sheets and always passed the exam better than anyone. No professor wanted to be in the room where this student was taking his exams. And the rector asked me to do it. "No problem," I replied. "But no one else wants to," he marveled. "They understand nothing," I said. I went to a friend of mine, a Sikh, and asked: "Lend me your kirpan." A kirpan is a special kind of sword, a weapon far more dangerous than any other sword: one strike—and the head is gone!
"What are you going to do with this sword?" he asked. "I want to teach a student what it means to be a Sikh." He said: "That is good. Waheguru Ji Ka Khalsa, Waheguru Ji Ki Fateh." This is a Sikh mantra: "By this way the master conquers. By this way the followers of the master conquer." He gave me his kirpan, and I went into the exam room. That guy was sitting at the desk, and his little knife lay before him. I approached him and plunged my kirpan into the desk right next to his knife. He looked at me, and I said: "Throw away all the cheat sheets you brought. See my kirpan?" And I took his same knife. "What are you doing?" he asked. "If you utter one more word," I said, "the strike of this sword will take your head." "You must be crazy," he said. "I have done nothing wrong, and you are ready to kill me!" I said:
"The question here is not about what is wrong or right. The question is who has the bigger knife—my knife is bigger! I have every right to throw you out of this room." And I threw his knife out the window. I said: "If you don't throw away all the cheat sheets you brought with you, your head will also fly out the window." He gave me all the cheat sheets, and I threw them out the window. The rector was watching this from the window of his office. "What is happening?" he shouted. "All sorts of things are flying out of the exam room windows—first a knife, then papers..." He rushed into the room. "Do you have some kind of problem?" "Don't worry," I said. "Give me one more minute... if this guy doesn't behave as he should, you will see something else fly out the window." "What exactly?" he asked. "His
head!" I replied. The rector led me out of the room and said:
"I regret asking you to proctor in this room. You are free to go; one cannot behave like that!" "But there is no other way to teach this idiot," I said. "All the professors you sent into this room were so afraid of his knife that now no one wants to go in here. What can he do? At most—kill you, which is why I brought a big knife. But this is exactly what society teaches each of us: you must be more aggressive, otherwise you will fail. You must carve your own path because everyone strives for the same result." The rector told me: "I am releasing you. You will never proctor exams again."
"Wonderful!" I exclaimed. "That is exactly what I wanted. I don't need this; I don't want to cause anyone any trouble. Life will give them enough as it is—why should I bring even more trouble into it? But I also won't allow anyone to trouble me. It is very good that you have released me from this duty forever.
However, our entire society is based on violence, and you must show more cruelty if you have ambitions. To become a rebel, one needs to be an unambitious person, not prone to competition, not striving for power. Every child can become such a rebel. The only thing needed is that their innocence is not taken away from them. Your feeling does not deceive you: a rebel lives inside you. There is a rebel in every person. But society is too strong—it makes you cowardly, it forces you to be cunning. It doesn't help you be yourself. It doesn't want anyone to be themselves, because then there would be nothing but rebels everywhere. But remember: before becoming rebels, you must fulfill certain conditions. I don't want old-type rebels to appear. My ideas about rebels are different—this is a completely fresh idea, a new understanding. Until there is enough compassion in you, until there is enough love—until there is enough silence in the heart, deep inner meditation bringing you more light, greater awareness—you will not meet my conditions. I want you to be rebels only under these conditions.
Then you will not be able to do anything wrong. Then everything you do will be right. When acting out of love, everything is right. Love is a magical force that transforms everything, makes everything right. I want the rebels to be enlightened. This is possible because enlightenment sometimes happens and there are rebels in this world, so all we need is a synthesis connecting both together. Rebellion and enlightenment; Gautama Buddha endowed with the rebellious spirit of Lenin—that is the most beautiful phenomenon in the world...
Osho