Sri Aurobindo
Karmayogin
Political Writings and Speeches — 1909-1910
Karmayogin: A Weekly Review
Saturday 6th November 1909 — No.18
The Assassination of Prince Ito
A great man has fallen, perhaps the greatest force in the field of political action that the nineteenth century produced, the maker of Japan, the conqueror of Russia, the mighty one who first asserted Asia's superiority over Europe in Europe's own field of glory and changed in a few years the world's future.
Some would say that such a death for such a man was a tragedy.
We hold otherwise.
Even such a death should such a man have died, in harness, fighting for his country's expansion and greatness, by the swift death in action, which, our scriptures tell us, carry the hero's soul straight to the felicity of heaven.
The man who in his youth lived in imminent deadly peril from the swords of his countrymen because he dared to move forward by new paths to his God-given task, dies in his old age by a foreign hand because, at the expense of justice and a nation's freedom, he still moved forward in the path of his duty.
It is a difficult choice that is given to men of action in a world where love, strength and justice are not yet harmonised, and he who chooses in sincerity and acts thoroughly, whether he has chosen well or ill, gathers puṇya for himself in this world and the next.
Then he was building a nation and he lived to do his work, for his death would not have profited.
He was building an Empire when he died and by his death that empire will be established.
The soul of a great man, fulfilled in development but cut off in the midst of his work, enters into his following or his nation and works on a far wider scale than was possible to him in the body.
Korea will gain nothing by this rash and untimely act, the greatest error in tactics it could have committed.
The Japanese is the last man on earth to be deterred from his ambition or his duty by the fear of death, and the only result of this blow will be to harden Japan to her task.
She has science, organisation, efficiency, ruthlessness, and she will grind the soul out of Korea until it is indistinguishable from Japan.
That is the only way to perpetuate a conquest, to kill the soul of 
the subject nation, and the Japanese know it.
A subject nation struggling for freedom must always attract Indian sympathy, but the Koreans have not the strength of soul to attain freedom.
Instead of seeking the force to rise in their own manhood, they have always committed the unpardonable sin against Asiatic integrity of striving to call in an1 European power against a brother Asiatic.
The Koreans have right on their side, but do not know how to awaken might to vindicate the right.
The Japanese cause is wrong from the standpoint of a higher morality than the merely patriotic, but they believe intensely in their religion of patriotic duty and put all their might into its observance.
It is not difficult to predict with which side the victory will be2.
Prince Hirobumi Ito was the typical man of his nation, as well as its greatest statesman and leader.
He went ahead of it for a while only to raise it to his level.
He had all its virtues in overflowing measure and a full share of its defects and vices.
Absolutely selfless in public affairs, quiet, unassuming, keeping himself in the background unless duty called him into prominence, calm, self-controlled, patient, swift, energetic, methodical, incapable of fear, wholly devoted to the nation — such is the Japanese, and such was Ito.
As a private man he had the Japanese defects.
Even in public affairs, he had something of the narrowness, unscrupulousness in method and preference of success to justice of the insular and imperial Japanese type.
Added to these common characteristics of his people he had a genius equal to that of any statesman in history.
The eye that read the hearts of men, the mouth sealed to rigid secrecy, the rare, calm and effective speech, the brain that could embrace a civilisation at a glance and take all that was needed for his purpose, the swift and yet careful intellect that could divine, choose and arrange, the power of study, the genius of invention, the talent of application, a diplomacy open-minded but never vacillating, a tireless capacity for work,— all these he had on so grand a scale that to change the world's history was to him a by no means stupendous labour.
And he had the ancient Asiatic gift of self-effacement.
In Europe a genius of such colossal proportions would have filled the world with the mighty bruit of his personality; but Ito worked in silence and in the shade, covering his steps, 
and it was only by the results of his work that the world knew him.
Like many modern Japanese, Ito was a sceptic.
His country was the God of his worship to whom he dedicated his life, for whom he lived and in whose service he died.
Such was this great Vibhuti, who came down to earth in a petty family, an Eastern island clan, a nation apart and far behind in the world's progress, and in forty years created a nation's greatness, founded an Empire, changed a civilisation and prepared the liberation of a continent.
His death was worthy of his life.
For there are only two deaths which are really great and carry a soul to the highest heaven, to die in self-forgetting action, in battle, by assassination, on the scaffold for others, for one's country or for the right, and to die as the Yogin dies, by his own will, free of death and disease, departing into that from which he came.
To Ito, the sceptic, the patriot, the divine worker, the death of the selfless hero was given.