Even a violent criminal?

Even a violent criminal?

The motivating force of the plot is the question of whether Arjuna ought to engage his kinsmen in battle. Throughout his lamentation to Krishna, Arjuna appeals to the notion of evil: "Evil will haunt us if we kill them" (p. 28). It seemed strange to me that Krishna so directly and unequivocally incited Arjuna to rise to war (p. 31). By way of explaining this, he assures Arjuna that since "Death is certain for anyone born," (p.35), he has no reason to be saddened. It seems that through detachment and devotion to Krishna, the aspiring yogi can remove his or her self-interest yet still partake in action: as a result, he or she becomes more in tune with the whole idea that "Death is certain" and can act in fulfillment of his or her duty.

Nevertheless there is something curious in all this. Krishna seems keen to stress that not only war, but also violence and evil are extraneous to the issue of what one should do:

Even if you are the most evil
of all sinners,
you will cross over all evil
on the raft of knowledge.

Just as a flaming fire reduces
wood to ashes, Arjuna,
so the fire of knowledge
reduces all actions to ashes.
(p.56)

If he is devoted solely to me,
even a violent criminal
must be deemed a man of virtue,
for his resolve is right.
(p.89)

Why doesn't the meaning of being devoted to Krishna preclude being evil? Sometimes it appears that it does:

But when they cease from evil
and act with virtue, they devote
themselves to me, firm in their vows,
freed from the delusion of duality.
(p. 77)

The duality he is referring to here is between desire and hatred. Yet, in defying that duality, he paints another one, namely between evil and virtue. People who do not take refuge in Krishna are "vile, deluded sinners" (p.75).

So how is it that it makes sense to say that those who do not follow Krishna are sinners, yet that there can be sinners who follow Krishna? In other words, how can it be that "a violent criminal" could ever be a disciple of Krisha, especially given that relinquishing the fruits of actions is one of the keys to discipline? Does the idea of a detached criminal make any sense, especially given the tranquil mind of the yogi (p. 66-67)?

The answer to these questions might lie in the notion of dharma, or sacred duty. Krishna seems to understand his role, i.e. "to protect men of virtue / and destroy men who do evil, / to set the standard of sacred duty" (p. 52), as working against chaos and for order. Miller suggests that Arjuna's victory would be "the triumph of order over chaos" (p. 5). Furthermore, Miller notes that dharma, meaning "that which sustains," need not be universal, but can vary according to class and over factors (p. 3). Hence it would be possible, if it were the criminal's dharma to be such, for a violent criminal to be detached from his actions and submitting to the will of Krishna.

But there is still something that does not quite add up here. Why should it be harmonious or ordered for a violent criminal to act as such? for war to occur? If I were Arjuna, I would wonder: even if I became disinterested in the fruits of my actions; even if I were disciplined; even if as a result I act only in accordance with sacred duty; even if all of these people would die anyway, how is it that it is my sacred duty to kill?

(Fixed: minus the quotes and the citations, it's roughly 450 now.)