Buddhism | | Page 15

Tetsunori Koizumi, Director

What kind of Buddhist culture develops in a specific place often depends on the historical evolution of the people and society in that place. “To be a Burmese is to be a Buddhist” is a saying that captures an integral role Buddhism has played in shaping the Burmese national identity. The Burmese’s resolve to hold on to their Buddhist culture has been severely tested by a number of historical events such as the destruction of their Buddhist temples and pagodas by the invading army of Kublai Khan in the thirteenth century and the loss of royal patronage by the dissolution of the monarchy by the British colonialists in the nineteenth century. These adverse historical events may explain why Burmese Buddhism has evolved into a highly political culture, with monks actively involved in political affairs. The politicized Buddhist culture is still apparent in Myanmar today, as the country was renamed in 1989 from Burma, with monks lending their support for democratic movements.

While the role of Buddhism in shaping their national identity came into sharp focus when the British came to Burma and governed as a province of their Indian Empire, little did the Burmese—or, for that matter, other people in the world—anticipate that Buddhism would be used as a pretext for discrimination, even execution, of a group of people with a different faith tradition. But that is exactly what happened, and is happening, to the Rohingya in Myanmar.

The Rohingya are an ethnic minority group of nearly million people in the western Burmese province of Rakhine. The Rohingya trace their origin in the region to the 15^th century, when thousands of Muslims came to the former Arakan Kingdom. They differ from Myanmar’s dominant Buddhist groups ethnically, linguistically, and religiously. The label “Rohingya” as a self-identifying term surfaced in the 1950s to give them a collective political identity. But successive governments in Myanmar have refuted the Rohingya’s historical claim to Rakhine State, and denied the group official recognition as one of the country’s 135 ethnic groups, except under the democratic government of Prime Minister U NU (1948-58, 1960-62), who was he first prime minister of independent Burma until 1962 when the military junta seized power.

The Rohingya are discriminated in Myanmar, a predominantly Buddhist country, for the color of their skin, which is darker, and their language, but most importantly for their Muslim faith. Another factor that may have contributed to discrimination against the Rohingya is that fact that Rakhine State is Myanmar’s least developed state with a poverty rate of 78 percent, compared with around 38 percent national average, according to the World Bank. Denied citizenship, the Rohingya have been registered as temporally residents with identification cards, known as white cards. But the Rohingya even lost that temporary residents status when President Thein Sein cancelled the temporary identity cards in February 2015.

The current wave of discrimination and execution of the Rohingya started when, in August 2017, a militant group known as the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) attacked police and army posts, killing more than 500 people. This incident prompted the government to declare ARSA as a terrorist organization and mount a brutal campaign to destroy Rohingya villages. More than half of Rohingya population in Myanmar fled the country to neighboring countries of Bangladesh, Malaysia, Thailand, and Indonesia.

There is no question that what is happening to the Rohingya is a case of genocide, according to the UN definition by the United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, ratified on January 12, 1951.¹ What is difficult for us living in the rest of the world to accept is the fact that this atrocity against a minority group is done by the Burmese Buddhists who have contributed a lot to the worldwide spread of Buddhist practice. Though introduced and propagated as a political means to promote national identity in the post-independence nation, it was the Burmese Buddhists who elevated vipassana, or insight meditation, as a popular Buddhist practice. In fact, the worldwide spread of this practice owes to a number of influential Burmese teachers, such as Ledi Sayadaw (1846-1923), who called for the renewal of lay life that included meditative practice, Saya Thetgyi (1873-1945), who was instrumental in the evolution of insight meditation into a global phenomenon, Mahasi Sayadaw (1904-1982), who became head of the Thathana Yeiktha meditation center in Rangoon in 1949 appointed by Prime minister U Nu, and U Ba Khin (1899-1971), who set up International Meditation Center in Rangoon in 1952.² Granted that insight meditation in Burma grew out of the Theravada tradition, it is nevertheless a form of Buddhist practice that would lead its practitioners to panna, or wisdom, which certainly includes compassion and loving-kindness toward fellow human beings.

See Maung Zauni, “Buddhist Nationalism in Burma”, Tricycle, Spring 2013.
Erik Braun, The Birth of Insight Meditation: Buddhism, and the Burmese Monk Ledi Sayadaw, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013.

Tetsunori Koizumi, Director

The Art of War, written in the 5^th century BCE by Master Sun Tzu, is a book about military strategies and tactics as the title suggests. As a true classic in the genre of books about military strategies and tactics, the book has had enormous influence among generals and military strategists not just in China but in other countries as well. Takeda Shingen (1521-1573), one of the powerful lords during the war period in Japan, which lasted from the end of the 15^th century to the end of 16^th century, was one such individual who was influenced by The Art of War and adopted the phrase, “as fast as the wind, as silent as a forest, as ferocious as the fire, as immovable as a mountain,” as the slogan of his military campaigns. Douglas MacArthur (1880-1964), who oversaw the democratization and economic recovery of post-WW II Japan as Allied Commander of the Japanese Occupation, is also known as a general who was influenced by The Art of War.

Not surprisingly, the influence of The Art of War has not been limited to generals and military strategists, for the military strategies and tactics Sun Tzu discusses are applicable to other areas of human activities where strategies and tactics matter. With a statement like, “If you know yourself and your enemy, you can win a hundred battles without jeopardy,” it is not surprising that the book has influenced, and still influences, many managers of professional sports and business enterprises.

Given such background, we would hardly expect The Art of War as a book that contains useful hints for Chan, or Zen, masters and practitioners, whose goal is very different from that of generals and military strategists. Discourse on Chan Training by Master Yuanyun Jiexian (1610-1672) is unique among books written by Chan masters in that it is modeled on this famous book on military strategies and tactics. How can the book on military strategies and tactics be of value in Chan training where you are struggling with yourself, not with your enemy or opponent, in your effort to gain enlightenment?

Here is how Jiexian explains in his Preface to Discourse on Chan Training why his book on Chan training is modeled on the principles of Master Sun Tzu: “For those who occupy the position of masters in Buddhism, ruling over the Chan community is like ruling over a nation. Using strategic methods to train the Chan congregation is like using military strategies.”¹ As an example, Jiexian mentions about his own master, Lingyin (dates unknown), who “used many methods to break through from outside while the practitioner simultaneously breaks through from inside.”² As for himself, “I have devised methods for Chan masters to accompany their assemblies of practitioners in their walking meditation, to strike blows, to turn their minds around, to capture them and peck through their shells, and to split apart their delusions.”³

We are thus told that Discourse on Chan Training is intended as a “manual of strategies and tactics” for Chan masters who have to deal with students of varying spiritual capacity in Chan training. Jiexian discusses in detail how to distinguish the spiritual capacity of different students, how to test their understanding, when to give dharma talks, how to structure an intense retreat, and how to utilize the principles of Chan teaching in order to “enlighten many people and produce great Dharma generals.”⁴

Strategic methods Jiexian suggests are thus upaya, or expedient means, which Chan masters employ in Chan training, which varies from gong’an (koan in Japanese) to huatou (wato in Japanese), to mozhao (mokusho in Japanese), and to the use of the bamboo stick (keisaku in Japanese). Varieties of expedient means are employed as teaching devices because Chan masters are entrusted with the important task of guiding practitioners to the Dharma gate and opening their eyes of enlightenment. Which teaching device is effective depends on the spiritual capacity of the individual practitioner. Master Linji ( - 866), the founder of the Linji school, is known to have distinguished three categories—high, middle, and low—of the spiritual capacity among practitioners training under him, and employed a different device suitable for each practitioner.

The real challenge for a Chan master is how to deal with the practitioner whose spiritual capacity is obviously low. For such a practitioner, sitting meditation would not be an effective teaching device, as Jiexian points out: “The ancient saying goes: ‘Great doubt, great awakening; small doubt, small awakening; no doubt, no awakening.’ Thus, if doubt is total, then enlightenment is total. … If you do not generate genuine doubt, so that the wheels of your mental processes are turning inside, then you will not attain enlightenment even if you keep on sitting until the year of the donkey.”⁵

Jiexian must have the Chinese Zodiac in mind when he refers to the year of donkey. The fact of the matter is, however, that there is no year of the donkey in the Chinese Zodiac. This suggests that Jiexian is aware of the need for some other radical teaching device to awaken practitioners of low spiritual capacity. A good Chan master, according to Jiexian is one who is able to choose an effective teaching device suitable for each practitioner from a variety of teaching devices available: “Therefore a master who is good at training and tempering practitioners is not averse to taking minute care with his teaching, not averse to great complexity in his efforts, not averse to being completely thorough in his wok, not to averse to employing a complete range of techniques.”⁶ This is a pertinent advice not just to a Chan master but also to a teacher of any skill or subject.

Sheng Yen, Attaining The Way: A Guide to the Practice of Chan Buddhism, Boston: Shambhala, 2006, p.25.
ibid., p. 26.
ibid., p. 26.
ibid., p. 27.
ibid., p. 43.
ibid., p. 60.

Category Archives: Buddhism

Buddhist Nationalism in Myanmar

The Art of War: Strategies and Tactics in Zen Training