Power of Nightmares

My latest Toronto Star column is out; Public Discourse is Dominated by Fear, in which I argue that the public is being manipulated by fear. I've already received critical email saying that I'm being "unrealistic" and

With all due respect to those who believe in the peaceful teachings of Buddha, Christ, et al., such teachings have done little to stem the violence over the centuries - Hitler, Pol Pot, Kim Ill Sung, Osama bin Laden, and many others were stopped by firm and powerful military action.

One reply to this would be historical; the only 20th century war in which the western democracies were involved that can even remotely be seen as a war to stop an evil tyranny is WW2 and even that case is problematic. After all, the war was started by Britain and France in 1939 to save Poland, but the end result was that Poland and the rest of Eastern Europe passed from Nazi to Soviet tyranny. And, as I've argued before, the time to stop Hitler peacefully was 1919. Given the excessively punitive Treaty of Versailles, Germany was bound to come under some kind of extremist government sooner or later. You cannot destroy the economy and infrastructure of an advanced industrial society and not expect political dysfunction.

Which brings us to Iraq. The lead up to that war was a classic case of fear propaganda. Remember the mobile anthrax vans, the secret nukes ready-to-launch in 45 minutes and all the rest of the male bovine excretement?

Of course there's nothing new in this, except maybe Colin Powell's Power-Point show at the UN. Hitler used similar methods. Getting back to 1939, the German press was full of scare stories about the "Polish threat" and even blood-curdling accounts of Polish terrorism against peaceable German civilians in East Prussia. Most Germans were probably taken in. After all, in 1939 the Volkische Beobachter was the "mainstream media."

If you want a good overview of the use of the cynical use of terror by politicians, you couldn't do better than checking out the three-part BBC documentary; Power of Nightmares. This is an excellent historical overview of the parallel rise of Islamic Fundamentalism and Neo-Conservatism, strange shadows of each other. The neo-cons, who are powerful in the Bush and Blair regimes, are followers of an eccentric academic philosopher, Leo Strauss, who taught at the U. of Chicago back in the 40's and 50's. As portrayed in the documentary, he basically taught (like Plato) that elites have a duty to lie to the masses for their own good, otherwise they will just get lost in idleness and won't be motivated for civilization advancing projects. There was a small cabal of these neo-cons powerful in the Reagan whitehouse who pushed the myth of a devastatingly powerful Soviet war-machine, at a time when the real Soviet Union was barely held together with baling wire.

The same group is even more powerful in the Bush administration, and without even a putative Soviet boogeyman to fuel the industrial-military complex they had to come up with something. That's where the world-wide Islamic terror conspiracy comes in. Except, according to the documentary, it doesn't.

Al Quaeda is a myth, according to the video. There is no world-wide co-ordinated conspiracy, just disconnected groups of disaffected individuals. The video doesn't get into the back-story of 9/11 much, but there is more and more reason to suspect that what you read in the Times ain't necessarily so either. And let's not forget this image, could be straight out of a James Bond movie, but instead by very soberly promoted by Donald Rumsfeld on national TV. (In the video you can see him saying, "and there isn't just one of these, there's dozens of these.")

So we're all being scared into giving up our civil liberties and send our soldiers off to fight wars of occupation here there and elsewhere. But then, Oceania was always at war with Eastasia, wasn't it?

Arrow River Announcements

There will be a day of Mindfulness held at the Arrow River Hermitage on July 22, from 7 AM to 9 PM. All are welcome to attend.

Also, the Arrow River Newsletter is out. You can get either a hard copy or an e-copy by sending an email to the editor at riverdhamma@sympatico.ca

Conference News; Women's Ordination

I've been back from my travels in the United States for a couple of days now. Weather is beautiful, the hermitage hasn't burned down in the meanwhile and there's a big pile of firewood delivered and waiting for the saw. Took my first dip in the Arrow River too, it's a short season for river bathing here, unless you're a total masochist, so I like to take the chance while it's on.

One of the stops on my journey was the Bhavana Society in West Virginia, for the monastic conference. This is an annual event for Buddhist monks and nuns of various traditions to get together and compare notes. It's heartening to see that the traditional monastic form of Buddhism is so well established in North America.

One development over the last decade or so has been the growth of women's ordination. There were three theravada bhikkhunis at the conference; the women's order is now pretty much established in Sri Lanka and making inroads into Thailand.

There was a presentation by Bhikshuni Thubten Chodron, an American woman ordained in the Tibetan tradition regarding the efforts to get the female order going in that school. I hadn't realized it was such a complex matter.

A little history; when Buddhism split into eighteen schools in the period after the Second Council, that also meant eighteen ordination lineages. At least three are still extant; the Theravada lineage of course remains unbroken, at least on the male side, as this is the only one of the original eighteen schools still in existence. The recent restart of the Theravada bhikkhuni order was seeded with Dharmaguptika nuns from Taiwan.

The Dharmaguptika lineage seeded the Mahayana orders of East Asia before it's founding school died out in India. Chinese Bhikkhus (monks) and Bhikkshunis (nuns) are ordained in this lineage; which interestingly enough, was originally transmitted out of Sri Lanka at a time when Dharmaguptika was present there alongside Theravada. This lineage is the only one that maintained an unbroken female ordination transmission.

The Tibetan monks are ordained in the Mulasarvastavadin lineage, at one time a very strong school in Northern India. Like the Theravadins, the female line was broken at some point. The recent small numbers of women ordaining in Tibetan schools have all been ordained in the Dharmaguptika lineage, like their Theravada sisters.

Now, it seems, the Tibetans are looking into the minutiae of Vinaya to see if there are ways and means to restart the Mulasarvastavadin female ordination, so that the bhikshunis will share the same samvasa (community for ritual purposes) with the bhikshus. The current controversy rests on the question of whether it would be legal under Vinaya for monks alone to ordain nuns.

This is all a bit more detail than most readers would be interested in, but is still a pretty rough simplification. So, whenever anyone asks why there aren't more female monastics in Buddhism, the answer is; we're working on it.

It's All Relative

If the life of a man is short, why does the king keep Sadhina in heaven for a year?

(mu?)

Does there have to have been a time shift? Is there enough in this quote to understand what bell should be ringing or do I need to consult an expert (off to Wiki!) to get some history/depth on this?

Einstein's twin paradox.

Life of Pi

I would really like the Life of Pi reference unpacked a little more. I was at Trent University doing a Canadian Literature class when it was announced that Yann Martel (a Trent alumni) had won the Booker. There was some hasty deletions from the syllabus to fit in Life of Pi.

I've actually wondered what other people make of this remarkable book. I haven't found any really interesting critical commentary yet. For what it's worth, here's a little of my take on this quite remarkable book.

Spoiler Warning - skip this post if you haven't read the book and don't want to have anything given away.

I think the theme of "Life of Pi" is the importance of faith. It isn't explicit, or in your face; it's delightfully sneaky in fact. It's also a refreshing departure from most books of religious/spiritual allegory in that it isn't really pushing any particular agenda in particular. This is clear from the wonderful insouisance of the hero, Pi, in simulataneously believing in Hindusim, Islam, Catholicism and later, scientific materialism.

Rationally, this doesn't make any sense whatsoever, as the priests and imams point out in the beach confrontation scene. But Martell's point, as I read it anyway, is that faith trumps rationality as a spiritual virtue.

Often we confuse faith (pali: saddha) with dogmatism. Pi blows this away. He's full of faith, but there isn't a bit of dogmatism or fundamentalism in him.

Martell's primary argument for faith is developed slowly and only becomes somewhat explicit at the end. This argument is a novel one; at least I haven't seen it before. It is primarily aesthetic. The detective at the end sees two possible scenarios; either the boy's story is true and he survived for months on a raft with an adult tiger or he survived in a much less inspiring, even sordid manner. There is no real proof of either scenario. The choice is left up to the reader.

And here is where Martell's sleight of hand comes in. You, the reader, silently make your choice. Rationality would have to say the other story is more likely, but I think most readers whose hearts are not stone cold will quietly root for the fantastic tiger story. Why? Isn't the choice entirely aesthetic? When you get down to it, isn't our choice of what to believe in always aesthetic in the end?

In another place in the book Martell makes another astonishing claim; he has his character Pi opine that atheists are men of faith as well, but agnostics are not. He can't find it in him to sympathize with their point of view. The atheist has made his aesthetic choice, the agnostic is unwilling or unable to do so. The atheist then, lives in a universe that he finds beautiful and inspiring. The agnostic just waffles about in uncertainty. (remember: in Buddhism skeptical doubt is a hindrance!)

I found that sentiment surprising, but I immediately found it agreeable too. There are those who want to promote a Buddhist agnosticism, even though the Buddha called this view "eel-wriggling" and decried it as stupid and cowardly. Agnostism is a refusal to dare to make the necessary leap of faith which leads to spiritual awakening. The agnostic is one who clings forlornly to the branch of rationality and is unable to cross the stream to the far shore. (Of course, faith must be balanced with discriminatin wisdom, but that's a topic for another day.)

Faith, in my reading of Martell, could be defined as an intuitive leap of the heart towards the beautiful. Mathematicians, I think, can understand that the beautiful (or "elegant") is also an indicator of the true.

Another way of putting this; what kind of universe do you want to live in?

Devas; on Sources

From the mailbag;

I'm relieved to hear that you're mens sana in corpore sano, Bhante.

That's a matter of definition, but thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt.

With the sudden halt in "blogging", I was rather concerned.

My only comment on this subject is: one thousand years is a very long time, and there is a gap of more than a thousand years between the death of the Buddha and the authorship of sources such as Dhp-A (viz. the commentary to the Dhammapada) or the Jataka as we now have them.

There is, perhaps, no other religion in the world so befuddled as is Buddhism regarding the huge spans of time that separate the various texts called canonical. There are certainly striking differences between "Buddhist cosmology" as it was imagined in 600 B.C. vs. 600 A.D. --and most Buddhists are either unaware of (or doctrinally predisposed to ignore) the stark difference between these textual sources. In Thailand, there is a stark difference again between 600 A.D. and the cosmological texts of the 14th to 18th centuries.

E.M. makes some good points; we should always take the commentaries cum grano salis. (see I can use Latin too)

The only quibble I have is in his use of the word canonical. Neither the Dhammapada stories nor the prose parts of the Jatakas are considered canonical. The material which is considered canonical can pretty much all be dated to the first century after the Buddha. I.e., the time of the second council. (The big exception would be the Kathu Vatthu of the Abhidhamma; although some other material also may be a bit later. I have my doubts about some passages in the Digha, for instance.)

The commentaries as we have them are attributed to Buddhaghosa, the great scholar monk born in North India but working in Sri Lanka c. 400 AD (or 900 years give or take after the Buddha) However, he is not traditionally considered the author but the translator of these. The story is that there were at one time early Pali commentaries which had been lost by Buddhaghosa's time. However, there still remained extant Sinhalese versions which Buddhaghosa back-translated into Pali; a language that, although already "dead" would have been more widely known in the Buddhist world (cf. medieval Latin in Europe)

How much of this material is original, and how much Buddhaghosa's extrapolation or incorporation of later sources is unknown. But I have read that no stories or proper names are found in the commentaries that can be dated later than King Asoka's reign, for what that's worth.

As for the Jataka tales; the canonical bits, reportedly uttered by the Buddha, are entirely in verse and don't make a lot of sense without the explanatory stories (which is usually all you would see in modern "selections") Sometimes the stories appear to be ingenious attempts to weave odd verse fragments into a coherent tale; other times they flow more naturally, fleshing out a story already evident in the verse.

Furthermore, it may very well be that some of the Jatakas are actually pre-Buddhist folk-tales, perhaps very ancient indeed, given a light Buddhist gloss much as Beowulf was lightly Christianized. A small number of Jatakas appear to reproduce the imaginative geography of the Ramayana, where the island of Sri Lanka is a fabulous abode of monsters. That would be quite an anachronism in Buddhaghosa's time.

This is not to say that I'm a skeptic. On the contrary, like the Buddha and Anaximenes, I believe that the world is shaped like the flat lid on a steaming pot, that India is a giant island supported by an ocean, supported in turn by steam, with the latter billowing steam suspended in the void.

Supported by a giant elephant, which stands on a giant turtle. Don't ask what the turtle stands on; it's turtles all the way down.

Seriously though, there is an interpretation of this cosmology that makes sense. See the fascinating book "Hamlet's Mill." which deals with ancient astronomy. Our ancestors were not so stupid as some people like to think. Mt. Meru, the World Mountain, is in this interpretation, a colourful metaphor for the Axis Mundi, which is the imaginary line from the geographic north pole to the pole star; i.e. the rotational axis of the earth. It is not at all certain that any educated people since neolithic times believed literally in a flat earth.

In any case, E.M. ought to be more consistent with his sources. The cosmological geography he cites is commentarial, and not attributed directly to the Buddha.

Of Devas

The reason I haven't been blogging lately is because I've been helping teach a retreat at IMS, which is coming to an end so I'll have time and energy to spare for a bit.

One of the things we did this time, was to chant the Dhammacakkapavattana Sutta every evening in Pali. Those familiar with this text will know that it includes near the end a list of various deva realms. This naturally got some of the retreatants curious, and some were asking questions about the various realms.

The cosmology of Buddhism is a side-alley of the Dhamma that has always fascinated me. Depending on how you count them there are five or six realms of rebirth, or thirty-three stations of existence, or three planes. The territory of the upper realms is divided between the sensual heavens, the fine-material or Brahma realms and the formless abidings.

Then there are all the fabulous beings which exist in some way on this earthly plane; yakkhas, nagas and bhumma-devas.

There isn't any one good source for a detailed road-map of the heavens; stories and anecdotes are scattered through out the canon, but especially in the Dhammapada commentary and the Jataka tales.

Various questions arise whenever this topic comes up. The first and most obvious question is also the most tedious - are they real? First of all, you tell me, what does the word "real" signify? There is a strong sense in which this mundane earthly world is a pure mental fabrication - at least the one we actually live in and experience. We get signals in the form of sense data from some hypothetical "out there" and our perception parses them and creates the world we actually inhabit.

Buddhism is essentially interested in the interior landscape, which is all we can ever really know. The world "out there" is basically a moot topic, and of little interest. Theravada has pretty much always accepted that there is an exterior world, but not all Buddhist schools have agreed. Yogacara had a mature ontology that is purely mentalist; i.e. only mind exists (hence this school is also called Citta-matra "mind only?)

Given the dubious credentials of the concept "real" to start with, it is clear that the Buddha definitely taught that the deva realms are "real." In fact, the acceptance of "spontaneously born beings" is given as one of the factors of mundane Right View. (Devas do not reproduce sexually but appear spontaneously - the lower sensual heavens do have sex, but just for fun.)

I must admit having little patience for the view that would reduce the devas and brahmas to "psychological archetypes." Assuming one has no direct knowledge of these realms, it follows that they may or may not exist. We have no objective evidence one way or the other (although to one with faith, the word of the Buddha ought to count for something.) Hence belief in these realms becomes almost an aesthetic preference. I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would prefer to believe in a flat-land even if they can't see the third dimension. I hope this isn't too much of a spoiler, but that's essentially the point of Yann Martel's brilliant little novel, "The Life of Pi."

So let's leave that stale chesnut aside, happily assume the devas are real, and ask "where are they then?" Various possibilities present themselves; the deva realms might be present on some kind of other plane not understood by physics. Or they might simply be real three-dimensional worlds displaced from us by the fourth dimension. Or, they might actually be other planets in a different phase of evolution.

This brings up an interesting area of speculation. It is well known that ancient Indian cosmology posited a universe of multiple world-systems. To the modern mind, this correlates easily with our conception of the universe. However, I have never found an ancient text that unequivocally associates the various other worlds with the visible stars. Did they make the connection?

There is one fascinating bit of lore in the Sadhina Jataka (no. 494). In this tale, the righteous king Sadhina is fetched by Matali, the charioteer of the gods, to visit Tavatimsa Heaven. Matali takes the king on a tour of various realms on the way, which prompts Sakka, king of the gods, to declare "Doesn't Matali know that the lives of men are short?" and he sends a message to bring him along quickly. The king spends a year in heaven feasting with the gods and returns to earth, only to be arrested in the palace grounds as a trespasser. It seems that seven hundred years have passed on earth, his great-great-great etc. grandson is ruling on the throne and Sadhina is unrecognized. The really telling detail is that the time-shift seems to have occurred during the journey rather than while in heaven; hence Sakka's concern about the shortness of human life. Does any of this ring a bell?

War and Other Follies

The nationalist not only does not disapprove of atrocities committed by his own side, but he has a remarkable capacity for not even hearing about them. - George Orwell

My post about the bombing massacre of Afghan villagers has set off a bit of flurry in the comment section. It's good that people are thinking about these things.

I'd like to step back a little from historical and political specifics and look at the general ethical issues around war, nationalism, projection of power (groping here for a value neutral word for imperialism), and violence by both state and non-state actors.

Buddhism is probably the most pacifistic of the major world religions (although it must be admitted that Jainism takes ahimsa or non-harming even further.) There is no teaching of "just war" to be found in the Buddha's teachings. On the contrary, war is ascribed to a foolish quest for "sensual desires" in the Mahadukkhakkhanda Sutta. (In other words, a theory of economic causation - control of land or resources) The ideal king, the mythical Wheel-Turning Monarch, conquers the whole world without violence.

Furthermore, the Buddha has said that "hatred is not overcome by hatred, hatred is only overcome by love, this is a law eternal." And the First Precept is to refrain from harming and killing. No exceptions are made as in some other moral codes which distinguish between lawful killing and murder.

And yet, you may say (and rightly so,) Buddhist kings and Buddhist states have gone to war and continue to do so. This doesn't negate in the least the moral principle, it simply shows that human beings of any faith often fall short of the highest ethical principles. There cannot be any holy wars in Buddhism. Although, alas, the Sinhalese have at times attempted to frame their perennial strife with the Tamils in almost those terms, this is a gross distortion of the teachings and doesn't negate the general principle. Scriptural justification for war can be found in the Old Testament and in the Koran but not in the Nikayas.

War can be defined as the organized application of violence by a state to impose it's will on another state or other organized groups (like a rebel movement.) War has a nasty way of inverting all our normal moral instincts. In war-time, hatred of the enemy is encouraged (see all the very nasty propaganda put out by all sides in WW2 for example,) murder and theft become legitimatized, as does rape in practise, although this is not advertised for home consumption. In war, the most bestial behaviour is praised as "noble and brave."

The longer a war goes on, the more the moral standing of the belligerents is brutalized. In 1940 the RAF avoided bombing targets in Germany that might damage private property. By 1945 they were ruthlessly fire-bombing whole cities. A dark moral abyss is entered where right and wrong are inverted. This moral blindness is so strong that even today, sixty years on, it is controversial to state the obvious and call the fire-bombing of Dresden an atrocity.

As Orwell noted, there is an overwhelming tendency not so much to justify the atrocities of one's own side but to overlook them. To take notice of them is "not supporting the troops" or "siding with the enemy." To state a simple point of fact can become politically charged. For example - to state that the United States of America is, at this present moment, the single biggest committer of war-crimes on the planet is plainly and simply an objective truth. But imagine the reaction when this is said. Some will try and justify Abu Ghraib and Fallujah, but more will simply deny that they ever really happened.

At the root of this moral blindness is what H.G.Wells way back in the early years of the last century called "the false god" of nationalism. Once a group of people identify themselves as a nation, and take the next step of identifying their nation as chosen or special or best then it is easy to justify attacks on lesser nations who are not chosen or special or best.

What is, after all, a nation? At the bottom it is nothing real, it is a mutually agreed convention. A mental formation in Buddhist language. I live near the Pigeon River. On the drive into Thunder Bay, the road runs along the banks for a space. The Pigeon happens to be the international boundary in this part of the world. Sometimes when I'm in a car with someone I'll casually point out that the other bank is Minnesota. It's odd how the viewers perception, his sanna, shifts. Canada and America exist only in the viewers mind. The earth and the river and the trees don't know which country they're in.

But this unreal mental convention is taken so seriously that people are willing to die, and to kill to defend it. On the road crossing over the Pigeon are two little shacks set up and manned by people whose work is to defend this imaginary line. And should you ignore this line, you do so at your own peril. An imaginary, unreal line, but one taken with the utmost seriousness.

Over this utterly imaginary phantasm of a nation is constructed an entity that has at least a social reality - the state. What at bottom is a state? It is a mutually agreed monopoly of violence. The Agganna Sutta of the Digha Nikaya relates a fascinating myth which is a somewhat Hobbesian version of the social contract -

Then those beings came together and lamented the arising of these evil things among them: taking what was not given, censuring, lying, and punishment. And they thought: "Suppose we were to appoint a certain being who would show anger where anger was due, censure those who deserved it, and banish those who deserved banishment! And in return we would grant him a share of the rice." So they went to the one among them who was the handsomest, the best-looking, most pleasant and capable, and asked him to do this for them in return for a share of the rice, and he agreed.

For the parliament of Canada to be in session, the Royal Mace must be laid out on the table in the aisle. (Other countries have similar ritual fetish-objects) What is a Mace? It's a big heavy club designed to bash someone's skull in. It's presence symbolizes the power of the state embodied in parliament - the monopoly of violence. This is the meaning of sovreignity. In a state of nature, all beings are sovreign, i.e. free to indulge in violence. In a civil society, the right to inflict violence is limited to the agents of the state; i.e. the army and police. One of the words in Pali for royal authority is danda which literally means a stick.

It may be a practical compromise; there are immoral and amoral people about and it's not a bad idea to have a police force to protect the law-abiding. But let's not fetishize our mental and social constuctions. To worship either a nation or a state is deeply ignorant and idolatrous. Rite-and-ritual clinging. Rites and rituals may be socially and psychically useful at times, but to validate them as real is superstition. To die, or to kill, for them is plain madness.

Reply to a Critic

I have to respond the following posting from the comments, re: my post on the recent destruction of an Afghan village by the USAF;

It is very current and fashionable to blast American foreign policy in the West (however, you might want to thank America for that freedom). But while the most foreign aid to Afghanistan was flowing from the most hated nation, what were Buddhist Asian countries doing? Certainly, the millions of moolah towards lifeless artifacts couldn't be more counter-productive in the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan.

Air-strikes may not fit into the Buddhist scheme but to prescribe an immaculate outlook for the Afghan plight and a defeated solution to their debauched nation would also be unfitting. Preemptive attacks on these Islamic militants will persuade them to rethink the consequences to their techniques. I ask, even without the use of violence, how would Buddhists stamp out terrorism in Afghanistan? Running for the hills to Pakistan or Tajikistan may give the despot a smile, but what the subjugated Afghans?

Where to begin? This post is so full of historical inaccuracies and plain non-sequiturs that it's hard to find a point of entry. So let's take it in order;

It is very current and fashionable to blast American foreign policy in the West

That might be because US foreign policy has been a series of unmitigated disasters ever since Bush was inaugurated. It is not a matter of mere "fashion" to deplore a war of naked aggression against a helpless country, justified with a propaganda campaign of pure falsehood. It is not mere "fashion" to stick up for international law. It is not only "fashion" to be appalled by mass detention without trial, torture and the de facto abrogation of the Geneva Conventions. It is not only "fashion" that makes the rest of the world despair as the world's most powerful country, and formerly a respected international citizen, refuse to participate in every attempt at a sane international order - from the International Criminal Court, to the Kyoto accords, to the land-mine treaty and even the convention against child soldiers. No, it isn't fashion, it's sanity.

(however, you might want to thank America for that freedom).

Point of historical interest - I live in Canada. We don't owe our freedom to America in any way shape or form. I suppose you may be referring to WW2, which many Americans believe was won single-handedly by John Wayne. Point of fact; Russia more than any other country ought to be credited with beating the Nazis. The western front was a side-show.

Another point of historical fact to consider is the number of countries which lost their freedom by US covert or overt action. Iran in 1953 and Chile in 1973 spring to mind. There were others, mostly in Latin America. This side needs to be put into the balance.

But while the most foreign aid to Afghanistan was flowing from the most hated nation,

The idea that the USA is a generous and unappreciated donor of foreign aid is a favourite shibboleth of the American right. Unfortunately, it's not based on reality. The US is very near the bottom of foreign aid as a percentage of Gross National Income, and is no where near the UN target of .07 percent. See graph. And this doesn't take into account that 3-4 billion of the US annual aid total goes to Israel, which hardly qualifies as a starving nation.

Moving on;

what were Buddhist Asian countries doing? Certainly, the millions of moolah towards lifeless artifacts couldn't be more counter-productive in the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan.

I agree that there is no point in restoring the Bamiyan Buddhas.

Air-strikes may not fit into the Buddhist scheme but to prescribe an immaculate outlook for the Afghan plight and a defeated solution to their debauched nation would also be unfitting. Preemptive attacks on these Islamic militants will persuade them to rethink the consequences to their techniques.

You are certainly right that air-strikes don't fit into any Buddhist scheme, and I don't think any Buddhist can with good conscience justify them at any time. In this latest carnage, over one hundred villagers lost their lives, many more lost their homes and every thing they have. Can this possibly be justified? You may say that sacrifices have to be made for freedom (a dubious concept in the Afghan context, but let this pass for the moment.) Perhaps. But surely only those who are making the sacrifice have the right to decide when and how to make it.

Air strikes are the most cowardly possible kind of warfare - no risk for the aggressor, sure destruction indiscriminately doled out to the innocents and the guilty on the ground. I cannot see any moral difference between air war against a village and terrorism, in fact when you get down to it, it is a form of terrorism - state terrorism. At least the suicide bomber has a kind of misguided courage.

Those Afghan villagers didn't ask to give their lives and property in support of our war aims. The whole idea of western countries coming in and telling the poor natives what's best for them is nothing more than the old colonial project re-packaged. Well, that project has never worked in Afghanistan - ask the Brits, ask the Russians. I doubt it will work this time either.

And by the way, the concept of "pre-emptive" war is indefensible both ethically and legally.

I ask, even without the use of violence, how would Buddhists stamp out terrorism in Afghanistan? Running for the hills to Pakistan or Tajikistan may give the despot a smile, but what the subjugated Afghans?

Easy - stop invading other people's countries, overthrowing their governments and ripping off their resources. You'd be surprised how fast the recruits for terrorism would dry up. You might want to look up the Kutadanta Sutta of the Digha Nikaya for some practical tips.

What are we doing over there?

There were some new developments in the last week or so in Canada's intervention in Afghanistan. We had the first ever combat death of a female Canadian soldier, a sad triumph of equality I suppose. P.M. Harper held a ludicrous six-hour parliamentary "debate" on extending our mandate - an issue of such importance ought to have proper hearings and long study, not a feel-good exercise like that. Even so, he only barely managed a majority with a few votes from the Liberals, the other parties opposing.

And the latest - after an intense fire-fight with the Taliban involving Canadian troops, the Americans came in with jet fighters and Apache helicopters and bombed a nearby village where the retreating Taliban were thought to be hiding. The village, it seems, was destroyed (to save it?) and there was heavy loss of civilian life. (Numbers are disputed, as always in these things, but may be a hundred or more)

A number of serious concerns arise from this incident. First, Canada is supposed to be in charge in Kandahar province. Well, it turns out we're only in charge as long as the Americans say so. The Canadian commander has denied calling in the air-strike and blames it on "higher levels", meaning Americans.

So much for any effort the Canadians have been making in establishing rapport with the locals.

The proponents of Canadian involvement say that the purpose is to help the Afghans by building schools and so forth, and that because of the Taliban presence, military force is needed to protect the reconstruction effort. If so, air-strikes which destroy entire villages are completely counter-productive, both in physical and political terms.

We have to ask, do the local people want us there or not? (I don't care what Karzai says) I don't think this question is being addressed. If not, then this is just another colonial exercise of the powerful West telling the "backward" East what's best for them.

If we must be there, we should establish clear rules of engagement and if we are in charge in the operational area of Kandahar, as advertised, then that ought to mean that the Americans are barred from blundering in there with their heavy-handed fire-power whenever they want. If they won't agree, we should say "G'day" and leave them to it.

Will Harper take the American military and political leadership to task on this outrageous brutality? Not likely. Canadians need to pay more attention to foreign policy before we get dragged into another bloody Bush quagmire.

Formless Meditation - Clarification

This from the comments; referring to my previous post Meditation on Voidness

this is interesting.
*how* does one go from focusing on bit parts of the body (and sensations) to something like boundless space? (which is where this gets waaay too spacy for me)

it seems to *invite* a loss of focus...

if i can't perceive it, should i imagine it?

In the series of contemplations outlined, the meditation on boundless space is a critical link. Space is, technically, still within the purview of the material. In other words, it is a physical property, whereas Mind, the next stage, is not. And yet Space shares some characteristics with the formless - it is empty, boundless and insubstantial. In the Sarvastivada Abhidharma, space is classed as unconditioned, although both Theravada and Einstein would disagree.

The switch from meditation on earth (and earth element) to space is done like this; visualize earth-element, gradually extending your field of awareness until you are contemplating the whole of this planet (paying attention only to earth; never mind the pesky little things crawling around on the surface). Hold this whole globe of solid, impenetrable earth-element in your consciousness for a while. Now - remove it and pay attention only to the space that the earth takes up.

Since space has, by it's nature, no boundaries this should naturally dissolve into boundless space.

Remember, this series is accomplished by progressive selective non-attention. Space is what is left when you remove earth. That's really all there is to it.

Ajahn Sumedho sometimes talks about trying to be aware of the space in a room, as opposed to the objects. This is done with a kind of foreground-background switch and can help to get the "feel" of contemplation of boundless space also.

Some Links

Fermi's paradox solved. (i.e why we haven't met any aliens yet)

Buddhist Economics

Anschluss anyone? A friend of mine commented recently that living in Canada now feels like living in Austria in 1938. Seems a tad over the top? Check out this on what the wonks are calling "deep integration."

Buddhist History - reference

Book Review - War for Civilization by Fisk

I've just finished a very excellent book - Robert Fisk's "The Great War for Civilization."

Robert Fisk is a foreign correspondent for the Independent. He's covered every war in the Middle East since the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan (remember that? remember when the mujjahadien were the "good guys"?) I first discovered his work in the lead up to the American invasion of Iraq, when I went online looking for hard news, without the patriotic b.s.

The "The Great War for Civilization." is a huge tome, 1200 pages. Fisk covers in depth Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, the various Israeli-Palestinian negotiations, Algeria and more. The book ranges from vivid first person accounts of battles in the horrendous Iran-Iraq war to political analysis of the arms trade to the psychology of the suicide bomber to very good historical background on topics like the Armenian genocide and the effects of the Treaty of Sevres.

Fisk knows what's he's talking about - he's been there. And he's smart, literate and solidly grounded in the history and geography. It's impossible to write about politics, and especially the Middle East, without bias. So what's Fisk's bias? This quote from his introduction should tell you;

...Soldier and civilian, they died in their tens of thousands because death had been concocted for them, morality hitched like a halter round the warhorse so that we could talk about "target-rich environments" and "collateral damage' - that most infantile of attempts to shake off the crimes of killing - and report of victory parades, the tearing down of statues and the importance of peace.

Governments like it that way. They want their people to see war as dramas of opposites, good and evil, "them" and "us", victory or defeat. But war is primarily not about victory or defeat but about death and the infliction of death. It represents the total failure of the human spirit...

Fisk is a biased writer - he's biased toward the common people who just want to live their lives peacefully, and he's biased against all posturing conquerors and rulers and especially against their hypocrisy and lies.

What's more, he's a damn good writer; a crisp vigorous prose of a kind that reminds me somewhat of Hemingway. If you want to get some good solid background on the Middle East and try to sort out the craziness, you couldn't find a better read. And I bet you'll enjoy it too.

Buddhist History

Also, can you recommend one or several books on early Buddhist history and/or the development of Mahayana and what we now call Theravada? Summer reading season is upon us, and I need some recommendations.

The best historical introduction I've found is Peter Harvey's "Introduction to Buddhism" which is used widely as a first year college text. The chapters on the history of early Indian Buddhism are quite good on the councils, the arising of the various schools and the later gradual emergence of Mahayana.

If you want something weightier to chew on, A.K. Warder's "Indian Buddhism" remains a classic. I think it's still in print. You'll find all the minutiae about various early and medieval philosophical trends.

If you want to look at some interesting original source material, try and get a hold of a copy of the Katha-vatthu, "Points of Controversy" in English translation. The only english version I'm aware of is published by the Pali Text Society. This is a late Theravada book of debated doctrinal points in a point, counter-point form. It actually reads like usenet, except more polite.

Canada Census - Final Word

The census man came today and I filled out the form straight. On further investigation, I concluded that countmeout.ca is overly alarmist. I'm still not enthusiastic about out-sourcing part of the job to an American arms-manufacturer but the facts are that Lockheed -Martin is only providing the hardware and software and the data will remain in Canada. I'll know if I've been naive if in some brave new world order my interrogators in Gitmo quote my census data back at me.

Mahayana/Theravada - a short note

The most unique characteristic of the Mahayana is the Bodhisattva concept. In many different schools of Mahayana, practioners take Bodhisattva vows. There are various forms of these vows, but the essential point is that one vows "not to enter final nirvana until all beings are liberated."

It may be a surprise to some, but there is a bodhisatta path in Theravada. (Pedantic linguistic note: whereas, scholar-types tell us that contrary to appearances, bodhisatta is not the pali equivalent of sanskrit bodhisattva, I've never seen that explained and they look like equivalents to me.)

However, the concept is quite different from the Mahayana formulation. In Theravada, a bodhisatta is one who is practising for Buddha-hood. A follower of the path can make a resolve to follow one of three destinies; to aim for arhantship, pacceka-buddhahood or full samma-sam-buddhahood. In actual practise, very few Theravadins take a bodhisatta vow. The road to buddha-hood is considered much longer and more onerous. Only someone motivated by a great compassion would forestall their own liberation for the hundreds of life-times required.

Perhaps that is the historical germ of the Mahayana idea; which certainly places a central emphasis on compassion. The concepts are quite different, but I think we can see a direct line of descent here.

Another important point is that, in Theravada, such a vow is not considered complete or binding until one makes it in the presence of a living Buddha, as Gotama did before Dipankara Buddha many aeons ago. Some say this is the meaning of the epithet "Bhagava" or blessed; that a Buddha was blessed in the distant past by another Buddha.

Falun Gong

You may recall that when Pres. Hu Jintao of China met with Pres. Bush of America, the two gentlemen were rudely interrupted. Of course, the protestor was hauled away. (Ironically, Bush had just been bloviating on his favourite theme of Freedom)

What was the fuss about? The lady is a member of the Falun Gong. This is a new sect that has proven widely popular in China. A bit too popular for the boys in the Communist Party's liking. At one time, membership in Falun Gong exceeded that of the Party itself. So it was banned, and has been suffering persecution for years.

What the protestor, Wang Wenyi, was trying to express was a very serious allegation. If true, and it looks like it might be, this is a terrible development. Many overseas Falun Gong are charging that Chinese hospitals are now harvesting organs from Falun Gong prisoners for sale to wealthy overseas clients.

There's a fair bit of evidence to back it up. Investigators have run a bit of sting operation, phoning the Chinese hospitals known to do organ transplants for foreigners. Here is one of the recorded exchanges;

Case No. 2 (a hospital in Shandong Province)

Investigator: a kidney from a person who practices Falun Gong is disease-free; do you have any of those types…

Doctor: Umh…We have more and more such kind now, and in April we will sure to get even more.

Investigator: Why there are more in April?

Doctor: I cannot not tell you about it, because it relates to…it doesn’t mean…We don’t need to explain to you about it because it cannot be explained…

More of the same can be found here.

For China to be harvesting organs from executed criminals is nothing new. That's bad enough, but if they are now killing people whose only crime is practising a kind of Qi Gong, and making a few yuan off their parts, that's unspeakable.

You might think about that next time you're loading up on cheap consumer crap at Wal-Mart.

Another Take on the Census

The other side of the Canada census debate, an article in rabble.ca by Murray Dobbin. Maybe so, but if I might venture an irreverent (maybe irrelevant) comment to Mr. Dobbin. This kind of earnestness is why the Canadian left never gets anywhere. Take all the fun out of it why don't you?

Canadian Census

The Canadian government is counting toques again. But it turns out that they've out-sourced the data handling to Lockheed Martin of the USA.

There's a few issues with that arrangement. Lockheed Martin makes some very nasty stuff which irresponsible rogue organizations like the USAF use to blow up things and kill women and children. Then there's the whole issue about sending all our data to be processed by an organization with close ties to the whole USA national security apparatus. The new head of the CIA pretty well admitted that he hasn't a clue about the Fourth Amendment and thinks he can snoop into anything he likes. Not that they're going to really care how many kids you got, but it's the principle of the thing. You don't want to be encouraging these people.

Then there's the loss of jobs here at home. Can't we tote up our own damned forms?

But somebody's come up with a brilliant, and very Canadian, suggestion to throw a bit of a spanner into the military-industrial works. Countmeout.ca has a proposal for patriotic citizens opposed to this sell-out. Obey the law; which requires you to fill out your form completely and honestly. But mess it up enough to force them to hand process the paper; write some of your answers upside-down. Write outside the little boxes. Etc. Check out the web-site for more suggestions. Sounds like good clean subversive fun.

You Say Nirvana, I Say Nibbana

(Let's call the whole thing off...)

A reader has asked me to explain the differences between Theravada and Mahayana. Reading the following, you should bear in mind that my knowledge of Mahayana is limited, and that, let's face it, I'm biased.

You should also bear in mind that Mahayana is a catch-all category which includes schools as diverse as Zen (in several forms), Pure-Land (ditto) and Nicheren. Many of these schools are as different from each other as they are from Theravada. What's more, Theravada itself comes in different flavours, primarily along national/ethnic lines, although the differences aren't so great.

Historical - The Buddhist community began splitting into distinct sects after the Second Council; one hundred years after the Buddha's Parinirvana (death.) The initial split was between the Sthaviravadins and the Mahasangikhas. The former were the traditionalists, and the spiritual ancestors of Theravada. The latter were actually the majority at the Council (Maha-sangikha means "the big group") They were not (yet) Mahayana, but developed in that direction over the centuries.

There survives two very different accounts of the Second Council; which seem to represent the two factions. One version is found in the Theravada Vinaya texts and describes the split as being entirely over points of Vinaya (disciplinary rules for monks) with the Mahasanghikas being those who wanted to loosen up the rules and the Sthaviravadins being those who wanted to retain the purity of the Buddha's law.

The Mahasangikha version, which survives only in Tibetan translation, makes out that the split was over issues of doctrine, not mentioning discipline at all. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Theravada to this day is more insistent on orthodoxy in Vinaya than in Sutta interpretation, at least in Thailand. So it is perhaps not surprising that they found such innovations as the "two-finger allowance" (eating after the sun's shadow had passed mid-point by the width of two fingers) and the "salt-horn allowance" (storing salt for use with the meal in a horn) as more siginificant than odd theories on the nature of the Buddha and the Arahants.

Because that is what the contested doctrines in the Tibetan version are concerned with. There was steady tendency in the schools derived from the Mahasanghika faction to elevate the Buddha to god-like status and to downgrade the status and attainment of the arahants.
This is seen in (later) Mahayana texts like the Vimilikirti Sutra where Sariputta is reduced almost to a figure of fun; a foil for the superior Mahayana wisdom of Vimilikirti.

But the full-fledged Mahayana didn't appear in India until at least three centuries later. It is hard to date precisely because it's formation as a distinct school (or group of schools) was gradual, and because chronology was never a strong point of Indian civilization.

It is important to note also that the Sthaviravada itself split into various schools and that the Theravada was only one of them. It was at no time the dominant school in Northern India but was firmly established in the island kingdom of Sri Lanka, which historical circumstance allowed it alone of the early schools to survive the Muslim onslaught starting around 1000 AD.

Textual - The Theravada maintains as canonical a large collection of books in the Pali language. Scholars agree that most of this material can be safely dated to at least the Second Council time. Theravada holds that these texts alone are genuine Budhha-word.

The Mahayana has a large collection of additional sutras in Sanskrit. These began appearing around 100 BC (at least four hundred years after the Buddha). Many of these texts contain new doctrines not found in the Pali. Orthodox Mahayana belief is that the Buddha gave these discourses to a select group of disciples to pass on in secret until the time was ripe to reveal them. Caveat Emptor.

These texts include the Prajna-Paramita literature, the Lotus Sutra, the Vimilikirti Sutra and many many others. There does not seem to be any well-defined closed canon as in the Theravada.

Doctrinal - Many of the core Buddhist teachings are common between all schools - The Four Noble Truths, the Eightfold Path, the Dependent Origination. The principal point of divergence is in the goal of the path.

The early Pali texts always speak about the attainment of arahatta as the goal. The arahant is one who has destroyed all defilements, and thereby gained an unshakeable vision of the Unconditioned (Nibbana.) After death, the arahant is not reborn. "The task is done, the burden laid down." The realization of Nibbana is the same for the Buddha and for the arahants. The Buddha is special only in that he is one who has attained perfection in all the paramitas. He also has a greater depth of vision, for example being able to fully recall all his past lives. The Buddha also will not be reborn.

The Mahayana critique is that this amounts to a selfish goal - you get yourself out of here and leave the rest of us to muck about, thanks a lot. So they developed the concept of a Bodhisattva - one who deliberately chooses to be reborn into this world to help others. From this difference, other ideas derive. For instance some schools of Mahayana add a complex array of Celestial Bodhisattvas to the cosmology - beings like Manjushri, Bodhisattva of Wisdom and Avalokiteshvara, Bodhisattva of Compassion.

Nomenclature - There remains to this day a big confusion over the terms Hinayana and Theravada. These are not synonyms.

To begin with, the term Hinayana is perjorative, and was coined to be so. Hina doesn't just mean little; it means something like inferior or lesser. The early teachers of the new doctrines coined the terms Hinayana and Mahayana to assert the superiority of their beliefs. The Greater and the Lesser Vehicle.

Another important point is that all the early schools were categorized as Hinayana in Mahayana polemics, not just the Theravada. This has led to at least two problems.

One issue that creates difficulties between the schools is that at lot of Tibetan literature contains criticisms of the errors of the Hinayana. Now, when the ancestors of the Vajrayana were starting up in India, the "Hinayanists" they encountered would have been mostly Sarvastivadin, not Theravadin at all. Fast forward to the 20th and 21st centuries and the dawn of political correctness and many contemporary Vajrayana writers decide to be polite and use "Theravada" instead of "Hinayana" but otherwise leaving the critique the same.

I always cringe a bit when I read some well-intentioned Vajryana writer asserting that "Theravada" understands the emptiness of individuals (anatta) but not the emptiness of all dhammas (sunnata). There are in fact several passages in the Pali Canon that teach just that. I don't know for sure what the Sarvastivadins said about the matter, but we don't hold to what the Vajrayanas say we do. It is to be hoped that greater contact between the schools will correct this in due time.

A lesser problem is one that primarily concerns scholars of Buddhist history. What word do we use as a category name for all the pre-Mahayana schools? Traditionally we have used "Hinayana" but this is to use the insulting title given by their intellectual rivals. Some scholars have suggested "Sravakayana" (way of the disciples) but this is confusing because the term has a technical meaning in Theravada already. One suggestion, which I believe originated with Dr. Sugunasiri, is "Adhiyana" which means Early or Original Way.

There is more than could be said on this topic, a lot more, but this is already a very long post. I may blog some more about the various schools.