[Buddha-l] Dharmapala

[Dan Lusthaus]

While andy keeps looking for a conspiratorial motive behind Buddhist 
Warfare, let me suggest a different message the book offers.

First, so far what little discussion there has been on the book has focused 
primarily on the intro and the postface, i.e., the bread sandwiching the 
actual contributions. Forget the framing efforts -- which don't do an 
adequate job accounting for what is within the covers of the book (Jerryson 
speaks for himself, not the other contributors, and Faure is too busy trying 
to outsmart the others). When one examines the essays, one finds a variety 
of voices, each wrestling with the issue of the place of violence in 
Buddhism in different ways, with different assumptions, dealing with 
different aspects or types of Buddhism, and employing different 
methodological approaches. There's no conspiracy, because no conformity. The 
only thing that ties them all together is that, even when they grant or wish 
to believe that Buddhism and violence are anathema, the actual texts, or 
period, or country, or events, etc., all entail Buddhist complicity with 
violence, on many occasions, enthusiastic participation.

Second, those who are now pretending to not be the naive deniers of violence 
in Buddhism's vicinity, need to read the book, since silly urban myths like 
monks temporarily relinquishing vows in order to scruffle, and then 
redonning their pacifistic ways is no more an accurate portrayal of the role 
of violence in Buddhism (historically and up to the present), than the 
notion that no Buddhist anywhere has ever had a violent thought.

Third, the range of subjects, periods, approaches, etc., highlight -- in 
what might be a surprise even to some of the contributors -- the ubiquity of 
violent dimensions within Buddhism.

Fourth, Richard's attempt to draw a line between "ideal" Buddhism (which he 
would like to believe is pacifistic) and messy doings by Buddhists (which 
may from time to time not live up to that ideal) is simply another form of 
denial of the sort of evidence this book brings forward. There are 
important, even pivotal sutras, that -- (not) surprisingly (?) -- are cited 
in a variety of places and types of Buddhism that not only permit violence, 
but insist on it, for the preservation of the Dharma. Whoever thinks this 
idea is an aberrant, or scarce occurrence, needs to read the book.

Fifth, this book is only the tip of an iceberg of current scholarship. As a 
book review editor it is sometimes a task to find a qualified reviewer, 
i.e., someone sufficiently versed in the subject matter who is not involved 
either directly or indirectly in the book or with the authors (e.g., not 
mentioned in the acknowledgements, etc.). I thought this would be a 
difficult book to find a reviewer for since those I knew interested in the 
subject were already contributors or book jacket blurbists. To my surprise I 
discovered a world of scholarship working on various dimensions of the 
question of the role of violence in Buddhism -- historically, textually, 
nationally, etc. -- and most are NOT in the book, most are young scholars 
not generally known beyond a certain enclave. But they are all over the 
place. Vladimir Tikhonov, who eventually wrote the review for h-buddhism, 
teaches at the University of Oslo (his name should give away the fact that 
he is not Norwegian), is a specialist in Korean Buddhism (well respected in 
those circles), and his research focus revolves around violence, etc., in 
Korean Buddhism. Since Korean Buddhism is not one of the topics dealt with 
in the book, he at first was hesitant, until I reassured him that so many 
different types of Buddhism (Indian, Sri Lankan, Thai, Chinese, Japanese, 
Mongolian, Tibetan, etc.) that no one today is an expert on ALL of them.

Sixth, the last sentence is key. If one wants to dismiss this all as some 
sort of Mahayana deviance, there are the chapters on Theravadin forms of 
Buddhism and their relations with the military. If one is aware that that 
Gelugpas came to power on the crest of Mongolian militancy (citing the same 
sutras extolling protecting the Dharma as earlier centuries of Buddhists had 
used them), is one also aware of the Chinese and Japanese peasant revolts 
led by Buddhists? Does one think only the Shaolin monks fought? Or that they 
only fought robbers and not with political involvement? Or that they only 
fought barehanded, without weapons? In fact, there is nothing in the book 
about Shaolin (the answer to the questions are: Inscriptions in the Shaolin 
Temple indicate how they assisted a general overcome rebels, and since he 
eventually became emperor, they have enjoyed a special status vis-a-vis the 
state ever since, and have been involved in political violence throughout 
the centuries; they were NOT famous in China for barehanded combat but for 
their staff techniques, which even the military studied from them; and 
Shaolin monks were not the only monks involved in militarism in China.) The 
variety of places, times, etc., that one finds Buddhist violence --  
virtually wherever one looks -- should silence the objection that it is a 
rare aberration.

Seventh, from my own point of view, the premature conclusion that Buddhism, 
because it did not avoid or forbid violence absolutely is therefore no 
different from Christianity and Islam (the other two major global missionary 
religions) will only be properly dispelled when the actual history of 
violence in Buddhism -- with its attendant theoretical and institutional 
dimensions -- are fully fleshed out. While in the main there is no 
comparison, in my opinion, in terms of range, severity, fanaticism, 
instititutional acceptance, etc. between Buddhism and the other two, the 
reason for that can only be clarified with further study.

Finally, just as there was all sorts of resistance to Brian Victoria's 
expose of Japanese Zen by Western Buddhists (including Latin American 
westerners), his findings are no longer controversial (though some still 
accept them with emotional dissonance), this new material (not really new, 
since important essay by Demieville translated for this book is many decades 
old -- the information has been around but [choose the word you prefer] 
ignored or suppressed) will take awhile to work itself into the general 
impression people have of Buddhism. Ironically, Brian's essay in the 
Jerryson book is the least comfortable with its surroundings -- the only one 
that takes a polemic approach (which Brian admits), as he finds himself 
arguing a position he himself begins to find untenable. His outrage at Zen 
militarism and that during the 60s he, as an ordained Soto monk was 
forbidden by the Soto establishment to protest the Vietnam war was based on 
the assumption that Buddhism is pacifistic and therefore the Zen he was 
experiencing and learning about -- 20th c Zen -- was aberrant, a disturbing 
deviation from the teachings of the Buddha, Dogen, etc. As he continues to 
learn more about Buddhist history (and a wider swath of Buddhist 
literature), it has become increasingly difficult to maintain the charge of 
aberrance. His essay tries to do so, but the rest of the book undermines his 
umbrage, and shows us that the problem is larger than some antisemitic, 
fascist Zen masters (though is essay is a great read, and nicely 
illustrated). Those Zen s.o.b.s no longer look so aberrant.

If some more people read the book, perhaps it would be worthwhile discussing 
the philosophical and theoretical bases the Buddhist texts offer to condone 
and encourage violence, a topic discussed in several of the essays.

Dan