The Kingdom of God Is Within You grew out of the response to Tolstoy's earlier confession of faith, What I Believe. The letters and books that reached him afterward showed that the command of nonresistance to evil by force had been professed by a minority since Christianity began: by the Quakers, by William Lloyd Garrison's declaration of 1838, by Adin Ballou, who spent fifty years preaching the doctrine, and by Helchitsky, a fifteenth-century Czech whose Net of Faith made the same case. Each witness had been ignored or hushed up, and Tolstoy's own critics, religious and secular, evaded the question instead of answering it.
Tolstoy then asks why so simple a teaching stays invisible. Believers receive Christianity from churches that substituted creeds, ceremonies, and obedience for the Sermon on the Mount, while educated men dismiss the faith as an outlived superstition without examining its content. Both are certain they already understand it, and a mind persuaded that it knows cannot take in even the plainest words of the Gospel.
At the book's center stand three conceptions of life. The animal man lives for his own desires; the pagan or social man lives for tribe, family, and state; the Christian lives for God, the source of life, and his law is love. Christ's commandments are not statutes but signposts marking the level below which one need not fall, and the fourth names the ideal of never using force for any purpose. Modern Europe carries this Christian consciousness inside a pagan order, and the contradiction runs through property, courts, and diplomacy to its furthest limit in universal military service, which asks every citizen to stand ready to kill at command.
Force cannot resolve the contradiction. Eighteen centuries have shown that no definition of evil can bind everyone, and government power forms a closed circle of four methods: intimidation, corruption, the hypnotizing of the people from childhood, and the conscription of stupefied young men as soldiers who then enforce the rest. Revolution only re-arms the circle. The way out is the one Christ proposed: the man who accepts the divine conception of life obeys God rather than men, endures violence without joining it, and becomes free. Like bees that can leave the cluster only one at a time, individuals who quietly refuse oaths, taxes, police duty, and army service dissolve the state's power from within, and governments dread them more than conspirators, since punishing them only publishes the principle they stand on.
The conclusion turns from argument to witness. While finishing the book, Tolstoy's train passed another carrying a governor, soldiers, and rods to flog starving peasants over a landowner's forest, and he asks how ordinary, kindly men can do such work. His answer is the hypnotism of state service, responsibility divided until no one feels it, and the twin intoxications of power and servility. The remedy he leaves is not a program but repentance. The kingdom of God comes not with outward show; it is within, and it arrives as each person stops lying about his life and professes the truth he already sees.