by Donald Rothberg
Sulak Sivaraksa of Bangkok, Thailand (or Siam, the more traditional name he prefers to use for his country), is probably that country's most prominent social critic and activist, and one of the major contemporary exponents of socially engaged Buddhism. Now sixty years old, he has for the last 30 years combined provocative intellectual work with continual grassroots organizing in Thailand. He has founded rural development projects as well as many non-governmental organizations dedicated to exploring, in Thailand and internationally, alternative models of sustainable, traditionally-rooted, and ethically- and spiritually-based development.
Periodically, Sulak has been persecuted by the various dictatorships that have mostly ruled Thailand since 1932. In 1976, following a coup and the deaths of hundreds of students, Sulak was forced to stay in exile for two years. In 1984, he was arrested by the government for lese-majeste (defamation of the monarchy), but after an international campaign on his behalf, he was released. In September 1991, he was again charged with lese-majeste and also with defamation of the Army Commander, General Suchinda Kraprayoon, for a speech given in Bangkok on "The Regression of Democracy in Siam"; Sulak went immediately into exile. In December 1992, he returned to face trial. The trial finally began in June 1993, and is still continuing a year later. In the meantime, Sulak was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in both '93 and '94.
Sulak's main works published in Thailand include: Siamese Resurgence: A Thai Voice on Asia in a World of Change (1985), Religion and Development (1986), A Socially Engaged Buddhism (1988), and Siam in Crisis (1990). A U.S. edition of some of Sulak's work, Seeds of Peace (Parallax, 1992), includes the August 1991 speech. A book of documents about his legal case, When Loyalty Demands Dissent, is available from the BPF office.
The following conversation took place in Berkeley, California, in July 1992, following Sulak's participation in BPF's Summer Institute on Engaged Buddhism.
Sivaraksa: I have been very much personally influenced by Thich Nhat Hanh. He has suffered more than most monks have, and has been involved more in working for social justice.
I have also been very influenced by Gandhi and by the Quakers. Gandhi experienced and responded to the dreadful suffering connected with the British occupation of the Indian subcontinent. His radical approach was to be with the poor, and to use nonviolent approaches, to use spiritual strength. Later, I came across the Quakers. I was especially interested in the radical Quakers and the idea of a Religious Society of Friends. The Quakers regard friendship as central, just as did the Buddha. I was also very attracted by the Quaker notions of the sacredness of a human being and nonviolence. I found the Quakers more articulate than Buddhists on the need to question and resist the powers of the state, to question the status quo; Buddhists have been coexisting with the state for too long.
The new Western Buddhists and groups like the Buddhist Peace Fellowship really have been good for me. Particularly helpful have been people who have had a radical (and sometimes Marxist) background before they become Buddhists, who come to Buddhism with critical social awareness. For me, the Marxist systemic analysis of society, of the seeds of oppression, is very useful, provided it is placed in a nonviolent context. Perhaps radicals (including Marxists) can learn from Buddhists to be more humble, more mindful, to have some spirituality.
Buddhists must take on the system rather than focusing on individuals. And E. F. Schumacher (Small is Beautiful) helped me in particular to think about the development of economic systems not based on greed and consumerism. Here, too, radicals and Marxists can learn from Buddhists; we hate the dreadful system, not the people. In Christian terminology, we hate sin, not the sinners.
Sivaraksa: In making Buddhism more relevant for the contemporary world, it is important not to compromise on the essentials, such as the ethical precepts (sila). However, these ethical precepts need to be rethought in order to make sense of life in contemporary societies. Buddhists traditionally have lived in rather simple societies, largely agrarian, as is still often the case in Southeast and South Asia. In such societies, ethical issues may also be simple. One can say, "I am a good person. I don't kill. I don't steal. I don't commit adultery. I don't lie." But when the society becomes much more complex, these simple interpretations of ethical norms don't work so well.
For example, to follow the first Buddhist ethical precept, to refrain from killing living beings, is not so simple now; social reality in the modern world has become much more complex and interconnected. We have to ask questions like these: Do we allow our tax money to go for armaments? Do we keep ourselves separate from the political realm, and not challenge the government? Should we breed animals for consumption?
Our understanding of the second precept, to refrain from taking what is not ours, must also be extended. We may not literally steal in our face-to-face interactions, but do we allow the rich countries to exploit the poor countries through the workings of the international banking system and the international economic order? Do we allow industrial societies to exploit agrarian societies? The First World to exploit the Third World? The rich to exploit the poor generally?
We can ask similar questions on the basis of the third precept, to refrain from improper sexual behavior. We need to think carefully about other sexual and gender issues, about male domination and the exploitation of women. For instance, we use women for advertising in ways that promote sexism, lust, and greed.
In fact, to participate in the system of consumerism is already to violate the first, second, and third precepts. Following the fourth precept, to refrain from improper speech, i s also very difficult. Think of all the advertising and all the political propaganda, all the lies and exaggerations in the media and in education. We have to challenge all this even when it is legal. Buddhists in Asia often have liked to coexist side by side with the state and legal system. I think we have to re-examine ourselves.
Buddhist social ethics traditionally have been entirely personal. We have not looked at the system which is violent, the system which is oppressive, the system which, in fact, involves theft.
The Buddhist notion of enlightenment and understanding (panna) also needs to be extended, so that enlightenment is not always internal enlightenment; here also Buddhism has been weak. Panna must involve a real understanding of yourself and of society. If you understand society, and if that society is unjust, exploitative, and violent, how do you respond? With all the paramitas--humbly, without much attachment, seriously, with vigor, with patience, with awareness, with a great vow to change things. But Buddhists have too often been "goody-goodies" and not really responded to all the suffering in society.
We also need a different understanding of suffering and the causes of suffering (the first two "Noble Truths" taught by the Buddha). Suffering at the time of the Buddha was certainly often dreadful, but it was easier to understand; the interrelatedness of all phenomena that is a main teaching of the Buddha was simpler then and is much more complex now. We Buddhists need help from the social scientists: from sociologists, psychologists, anthropologists, etc. We should be very open and translate the findings of these disciplines into Buddhist understandings. Of course, one must have the right view of things and use these sciences to help against greed, hatred, and delusion; otherwise, all these methodologies and sciences could lead one astray. But without the work of these disciplines, we may become deluded and think that Buddhist practice can solve everything. It doesn't. Without transforming the Buddhist sense of wisdom to bring in understanding of and response to social reality, Buddhism will not be so relevant and might only appeal to the middle class. If we are not careful, it will become a kind of escapism.
Rothberg: Sometimes when I read Buddhist texts or talk to Buddhists, even many socially and politically concerned Buddhists, they often seem to suggest that the basic problem is internal greed, hatred, and delusion, as if working on the individual is most fundamental. According to this way of thinking, whatever problems there are with societies or systems are just an expression of what is "inner." There is little sense of a more "dialectical" relationship of individual and system, of how greed, hatred, and delusion are formed by systems, while the systems are then supported further by greed, hatred, and delusion. How might we develop a vision of socially engaged Buddhism as integrating inner and outer work more fully, so that the one informs the other?
Sivaraksa: Ambedkar, the leader of the untouchables in India, who became a Buddhist at the end of his life, challenged the Buddha in a wonderful way. He said that it was not enough to speak of the cause of suffering as being greed, hatred, and delusion. The social structure is also a cause of suffering; as an untouchable, he could see that very clearly.
The Buddha's intention was certainly to change individuals; the ultimate aim was liberation. However, he intended to help liberate not only individuals, but the whole society. His method was to create the sangha, the community, as a kind of alternative society within the larger society that would influence the larger society indirectly.
But we should also remember that the larger society at that time was not all that wicked. The system wasn't too rigid. One changed individual could make a big impact. A rich man named Supata, a kind of banker at the Buddha's time, became the supporter of all the poor in the region. In our time, you can get one good banker and nothing particularly changes. Now you have to change the whole system of banking! We must be very demanding in transforming ourselves, but I think we would be deluded unless we also have a clear understanding of how to change the oppressive society.
The Bodhisattva vow to save all sentient beings is a very special challenge to all Buddhists. Without that vow, we may become very selfish.
Rothberg: When I visited earlier this year the monastery of Pah Ban That (in northeast Thailand) founded by Ajahn Maha Boowa, I had several conversations with Bhikkhu Pannavaddho, an English monk who is probably the senior Western monk in Thailand. He questioned whether it was really possible for socially engaged people to live fully the spiritual life, no matter how helpful they might be. For him, to live the spiritual life is to work for liberation by uprooting the "defilements" that block one's basic love and understanding. However, this requires living in a highly supportive environment like that of a wat (monastery).
This is a major concern for many people in the West. Our intention is to work socially in a way which brings much spiritual depth, as well as social depth, rather than somehow act superficially in both dimensions.
Sivaraksa: Of course, it is a great danger that those who are socially engaged lack spiritual depth, inner calm, and peace; some activist Buddhist monks (for instance, in Sri Lanka and Burma) have sometimes even become violent. But what Pannavaddho said is applicable only to a small minority of monks, those who are convinced that their prime duty is to get rid of defilements. It is unrealistic to expect that all monks should have these intentions. Even at the time of the Buddha, many monks did not. In the Theravadin Buddhist tradition, there is the custom of having town monks, who help and lead the people in various ways, for instance in education and medicine; this is the traditional expression of socially engaged spirituality.
Without the spiritual dimension, however, those working socially will burn out. We must have joy, peace, and rest for ourselves, in our families, among our neighbors. If we are to connect ethical norms and social justice, we must have time for spiritual development, time to meditate, time to be harmonious with ourselves, integrating head and heart, and then time for renewal and retreat several weeks a year, sometimes with teachers who help us and question us. This is why centers of renewal like Buddhadasa's Suan Mokkh, the "Garden of Liberation" [in south Thailand], Thich Nhat Hanh's Plum Village [near Bordeaux, France], or the center I myself started, the ecumenical Wongsanit Ashram near Bangkok, are so important.
Without this kind of inquiry and practice, those trying to transform society will be more likely to be greedy, wanting to be big shots, or full of hate, wanting power, or deluded, wanting an impossibly ideal society or being a naive do-gooder. Meditation and critical self awareness help one to see these questionable motivations, or at least to ask oneself: "Am I doing that out of greed or hatred?" even if there is no clear answer.
But meditation alone is not sufficient--because people suffer so much. One must also act; one must do what one can.
Sivaraksa: It is important that daily life be lived in community. The present daily life in industrialized societies, so much based on separation, individualism, and consumption, is not conducive to socially engaged spirituality. The Buddhist tradition, on the other hand, emphasizes the centrality of community life based on simplicity. There is the old tradition that monks should not have more than three robes, only one bowl, one thread, one needle, and one pair of sandals. We are also taught not to be attached or give great significance to money (even if we lay people need money for survival). The more self-reliant we are, growing our own food and so on, the less important money becomes. Whatever we grow we are willing to share with others. That is why you need to live close to nature and be with people. In our traditional society, it has always been like this. Whatever you cook, you share with others. It would be good for this approach to come back.
In our society, especially in the countryside, we still have extended families in most of the country, except in Bangkok, which is just like any Western city. We still respect our parents and grandparents, and have feelings for the poor, the blind, and the mentally retarded; we don't feel ashamed if we have mentally retarded people in the family. We have to reinforce what is positive in the traditional approach (in areas like agriculture, medicine, food, and dress); otherwise, modern trends will wipe everything away.
Rothberg: In the United States, Buddhism is often interpreted very individualistically. Gary Snyder once said that sangha or spiritual community is the least developed of the "Three Jewels" of Buddhism [the Buddha, the dharma or basic teachings, and the sangha].
Sivaraksa: As a Buddhist, if one is not radical and does not work to eliminate suffering, one may end up only taking a little bit of Buddhism for one's individual ego. But Buddhism is not often radical; it coexists too easily with capitalism and consumerism. If Buddhism is not radical here in the U.S., it will one day simply become a kind of Americanism, and not make much of a contribution, just as Buddhism is often a mere decoration of Japanese culture.
Many attempts to create community in this country have failed, largely because individualism has become so strong in American culture, and because communities have not been firmly based on ethical guidelines. I think of your Declaration of Independence, that would make possible "life, liberty and the pursuit of (what they call) happiness." Too often, of course, the pursuit of happiness is really the pursuit of property. The traditional member of the Buddhist sangha has no property whatsoever. All members are equal economically and socially. Lay people can look at the sangha as a model, and try to have less property, not be so attached to what they do have, and work for greater economic and political equality.
The community must also be based on ethical precepts. Of course, ethics is not just about not killing or stealing or abusing another sexually; it is also about respecting others, sharing our resources, being generous, seeing how we can contribute, living harmoniously, and so on. If we can develop Buddhist communities that rest on simple living, are close to nature, and challenge consumerism and the status quo, that would be an important contribution.
Sivaraksa: Each person must develop critical self-awareness, and then dialogue is possible, listening is possible, good friends are possible. Once we work together, particularly in relation to suffering, then the gap between rich and poor, First World and Third World, North and South, is gone; we become partners and friends. Alone you can't do very much, but with your friends, you can do a great deal. If you want to gain exposure to the South, then you need people from the South to help you. If I want to go to Sri Lanka or Burma, then I need friends from those countries to help me, so that I can learn from them, and they can learn from me. I need to respect them, be genuine and sincere, and be at their level, not wear a big cap.
The conditions in the U.S. for socially engaged spirituality are difficult. Consumerism, greed, loneliness, manipulation of political power, and hatred have become so strong in American society. Worst of all, the people are so deluded, most of the time unknowingly. Perhaps working with us in Asia may be helpful, working for half a year, or a year, with the Tibetans, or the Ladakhis, or the Thai, or the Burmese. But this shouldn't be escapism. You might work in Asia and see that the source of suffering there is perhaps in the First World. When you come back to the West, after you have lived with Asians in community and close to nature, you may have more motivation to live like this in your own country.
It can also be helpful to be exposed to a society where it is clearer that there is delusion, where power is clearer. In my society, for example, you can see that the generals kill people openly. In this country, the generals never kill your people. They're much more clever, and the people stay deluded; the wars are all supposed to be for justice and freedom.
Sivaraksa: This is the most difficult question. This is where you need serious spiritual practice. It is easy to condemn the oppressors, but actually when you condemn others, you also condemn yourself. You have to have a deeper understanding of karma and interdependence over vast periods of time and space. We must cultivate this deeper understanding, thinking also about the nature of social systems, rather than just focusing on individuals.
If you get attached to right and wrong, you become so tiresome and full of hatred, and ultimately you may have to kill; in Christian terms, you become God. We must develop more mercy and compassion. Here, the West can learn from the Buddhists. Our ability to forgive is our strength. But of course you have to practice; you have to go deeper and radicalize yourself, going beyond thinking about "an eye for an eye." [A longer version of this interview appeared in ReVision, Winter 1993.]
Donald Rothberg is a long-time Vipassana practitioner and former BPF Board member. He teaches at the Saybrook Institute in San Francisco, is a co-editor of the journal ReVision, and writes frequently on engaged Buddhism. He divides his time between Vermont and California.
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