The Power Behind the
Robe
Aung Zaw 12 September
2017
In this cover story first
published in the October, 2007 print issue of The Irrawaddy
magazine, the editor explained why Burma’s general fear the
influence of the Sangha.
This month marks the 10th
anniversary of the Saffron Revolution, a series of mass protests
led by Buddhist monks against the military government.
Many social critics and
political monks have long said the generals who kneel down before
images of Buddha are the real threat to Buddhism and the
Dhamma.
In this cover story first
published in the October, 2007 print issue of The Irrawaddy
magazine, founding editor-in-chief Aung Zaw explains why Myanmar’s
generals fear the influence of the Sangha.
The Lord Buddha shunned
worldly affairs, but in his teachings he stressed the need for good
governance and good rulers in the practice of politics.
The Buddha said: “When the
ruler of a country is just and good, the ministers become just and
good; when the ministers are just and good, the higher officials
become just and good; when the higher officials are just and good,
the rank and file become just and good; when the rank and file
become just and good, the people become just and good.”
If these admonitions are
followed by the large community of monks—the Sangha—in
predominantly Buddhist Burma, the lingering “love lost”
relationship between the country’s military rulers and its monks
should be no surprise.
Over the last two decades,
Burma’s Sangha community, officially estimated to number around
400,000, has had an uneasy relationship with the ruling generals,
who have imprisoned several prominent, politically active monks or
pongyis. It is estimated that since the present military regime
came to power in 1988, about 300 monks have been defrocked and
sentenced to long terms of imprisonment.
Monks, considered “sons of
Buddha,” are the biggest institution in Burma after the armed
forces, which number more than 400,000 soldiers and
police.
In their close contacts
with the common people and during their morning alms rounds of
local households, the monks witness firsthand the suffering and
poverty of ordinary Burmese citizens. They have a very clear
picture of the deteriorating situation in Burma.
More importantly, they
probably have a better network, connections and influence than
politically active students, who are constantly watched, imprisoned
or forced into exile.
Who could imagine that
these monks, living quietly in monasteries and studying Dhamma,
would ever plan to rebel against the repressive regime? Yet history
has shown that monks have long played a pivotal role in politics
and that they would indeed dare such a bold and dangerous
undertaking.
The role of political
pongyis is controversial and potentially threatening to the ruling
elite, although there has been a continuing debate on whether monks
really should involve themselves in politics.
The Early
Rebellion
Monks were involved in
early outbreaks of resistance against British colonization, joining
lay people in taking up arms against the British after seeing King
Thibaw sent into exile.
Monks have their resistance
martyrs—U Ottama, for instance, who led 3,000 rebels in the Salin
area a year after the invasion of Mandalay. The rebel monk, also
known as Bo Ottama, was captured and hanged by the British in
1889.
Interestingly, historians
noted that monks who took up arms voluntarily defrocked themselves
first, following the precept forbidding monks to take
lives.
Another martyr, Saya San,
who was an ex-monk, led a peasant uprising in Tharrawaddy opposing
the tax system imposed by the British. Burma’s colonial masters
sent 10,000 troops to quell the rebellion, capturing Saya San and
sending him, too, to the gallows.
One of the top Burmese
lawyers who defended Saya San at his trial was Dr. Ba Maw, who
later became head of state in Burma’s Japanese-backed
government.
Not all monks advocated
armed struggle. Two who preached nonviolent resistance, U Wisara
and another monk named U Ottama, spent many years in prison for
their opposition to colonialism and their names have joined the
list of independence heroes.
U Ottama, a globe-trotting,
well-respected monk from Arakan State, was a powerful speaker whose
calls for independence were featured in the national
newspaper Thuriya. He once famously told the British Governor
Sir Reginald Craddock to go home to Britain, in a speech that
landed him in prison.
Like U Ottama, U Wisara was
imprisoned several times for his public speeches and died in jail
in 1929 after 166 days of a hunger strike. His prison sentences
included terms of hard labor, and he was also defrocked.
Both monks became an
inspiration to activists and students involved in the independence
movement.
Scholar Michael Mendelson
wrote in his “Sangha and State in Burma,” that all politically
active monks tended to be labeled by the colonial authorities as
“political agitators in the yellow robes.” Interestingly, a similar
term is used by Burma’s current leaders to describe protesting
monks.
Historians wrote that the
British authorities were surprised to learn the influential role of
the Sangha community, and soon after the invasion of 1885 they
abolished the position of “Supreme Patriarch,”
or Thathana-baing.
In former times, Burmese
kings appointed Thathana-baing to govern the Sangha
community and made them responsible for doctrinal instruction and
discipline of all monks. But the position wasn’t accepted by the
entire Sangha. The progressive Shwegin sect was one group that
rejected it. Sectarianism created controversy and bitter rivalry
among monks.
During the Kon-Baung period
in the 18th century, conflicts arose within the Sangha over how the
monastic robes were supposed to be worn, and two conflicting sects
arose—the so-called Ton Gaing and Yon Gaing.
The Burmese scholar Tin
Maung Maung Than records that the Toun-goo and early Kon-Baung
dynasties were drawn into the rivalry by their royal patronage of
one party or the other. In 1782, King Bodawphaya intervened in the
controversy by siding with Ton Gaing.
One experienced colonial
political officer, Col Edward Sladen, conversant with the power of
the Sangha, advised British authorities to maintain
the Thathana-baingsystem in order to head off conflicts in
governing the predominately Buddhist country.
The role
of Thathana-baing was undoubtedly a complicated one,
involving a direct link between the monarchy and the Sangha.
The Thathana-baing wielded influence and could even
intervene in state affairs. One respected abbot even persuaded King
Mindon to abandon corvée labor for his irrigation projects. It’s
ironic that the current regime argues that forced labor is a
feature of Burmese tradition and a means of making
merit.
After independence,
however, the influence of Buddhism and the Sangha went into
decline, except for a period under the late prime minister U Nu, a
devout Buddhist.
U Nu himself was ordained
as a monk several times and rarely exploited Buddhism for his own
political ends. Under his government, the Sixth Great Buddhist
World Council was held in 1954, and he also created the Buddha
Sasana Council.
Tin Maung Maung Than noted
in his book, “Sangha Reforms and Renewal of Sasana in Myanmar:
Historical trends and Contemporary Practice”: “Because of various
Gaing and sectarianism U Nu failed to take effective reforms in
spite of institutionalization of Buddhism within the state
superstructure and notwithstanding the holding of the Sixth
Buddhist Synod in 1954.”
U Nu also attempted to
legalize Buddhism as the state religion in 1961. The attempt was
considered to be a misguided policy, and it anyway failed to
materialize as U Nu was ousted by Gen Ne Win one year
later.
Ne Win regarded monks as a
potential opposition and he developed a different strategy to
control them. In the mid-1960s, his regime called a Sangha
conference to issue monks with identification cards. Young monks
and abbots stayed away from the gathering.
It wasn’t until 1980 that
Ne Win succeeded in containing the monks by establishing a “State
Sangha Nayaka Committee,” after a carefully orchestrated campaign
to discredit the Sangha. Part of the campaign was to discredit a
famous monk, Thein Phyu Sayadaw, who was accused of romantic
involvement with a woman. He was defrocked.
Before the campaign,
intelligence officers and informants of the government infiltrated
the temples as monks and gathered information about monks and
abbots.
Some well-known abbots,
including Mahasi Sayadaw, an internationally respected monk who was
invited by U Nu in 1947 to teach Vipassana meditation, were also
targeted in the campaign.
Anthropologist Gustaaf
Houtmann wrote in his paper “Mental Culture in Burmese Crisis
Politics” that the regime had “distributed leaflets accusing Mahasi
of talking with the nat spirits, and it was claimed that the
Tipitaka Mingun Sayadaw, Burma’s top Buddhist scholar, had been
involved in some unsavory incident two years after entering the
monkhood.” Both monks were victims of their refusal to cooperate
with the regime.
A number of scholars and
historians noted, however, that some abbots accused and charged by
the government were indeed involved in scandals and had romantic
relationship with women or nuns.
The regime’s campaign
sometimes took bizarre forms. Rumors were circulated, for instance,
suggesting that one Rangoon monk, U Laba, was a cannibal. Several
famous abbots were implicated in scandals and were either defrocked
or fled to neighboring Thailand. Ne Win successfully launched a
“Sangha reform”—also known as “Cleaning Up the Sangha.”
The government managed to
get some recognition from elderly Buddhists by forming the Sangha
Committee. But Ne Win did not pretend to be a devout Buddhist. He
rarely participated in Sangha meetings and held few religious
ceremonies during the 26 years of his rule. Unlike current leaders,
he was rarely seen with monks.
During the 1988 uprising,
however, his government asked the Sangha Committee to help restore
order, and senior monks appeared in live television broadcasts
appealing to the public for calm.
In August, 1988, days after
the massacre in Rangoon, monks expressed sorrow for the loss of
life, but—to the surprise of many—they also appealed to the regime
to govern in accordance with the 10 duties prescribed for rulers of
the people. The appeal failed to calm the public mood, but the
message did remind many Burmese of the “10 duties of rulers”—the
monks were telling Ne Win to be a good ruler.
On August 30, the Working
People’s Daily reported: “1,500 members of the Sangha marched in
procession through the Rangoon streets and gathered in front of the
Rangoon General Hospital emergency ward, where they recited “Metta
Sutta” in memory of rahans [monks], workers and students who fell
in the struggle for democracy.” Many young monks were among the
demonstrators.
For many Burmese, the
struggle for democracy is not yet over and the discord between the
Sangha and the ruling generals remains strong.
Unlike Ne Win and U Nu, the
generals who came to power in 1988 openly and audaciously schemed
to buy off the Sangha community. They have also claimed to be
protectors of the Sangha, although their motive is to gain
political legitimacy.
Aside from holding numerous
merit-making ceremonies, offering hsoon and valuable gifts to
monks, the military leaders are launching well-publicized pagoda
restoration projects throughout Burma. Nevertheless, confrontations
between rebellious monks and the authorities continue.
In Mandalay in 1990, troops
fired on the crowds, killing several people, including monks.
Angered by the military’s brutality, Mandalay monks began a patta
ni kozana kan, refusing to accept alms from members of the armed
forces and their families.
The same action has now
been taken by monks in several provinces after authorities beat
protesting monks in Pakokka, central Burma.
“Patta ni kozana kan” can
be called in response to any one of eight offences, including
vilifying or making insidious comparisons between monks, inciting
dissension among monks or defaming Buddha, the Dhamma or the
Sangha.
A “patta ni kozana kan”
campaign can be called off if the offended monks receive what they
accept as a proper apology from the individuals or authorities
involved. This procedure involves a ceremony held by at least four
monks inside the Buddhist ordination hall, at which the boycott
would be canceled.
Some monks in Burma may
believe that the “patta ni kozana kan” of 1990 is still in effect,
since they haven’t yet received any proper apology—only a harsh
crackdown. At that time, monks refused to attend religious
ceremonies held by military officials and family
members.
In one incident, the
Mandalay Division commander at the time, Maj-Gen Tun Kyi, who later
became trade minister, invited senior monks and abbots to attend a
religious ceremony but no one showed up. Military leaders realized
the seriousness of the boycott and decided to launch a
crackdown.
In Mandalay alone, more
than 130 monasteries were raided and monks were defrocked and
imprisoned. As many as 300 monks nationwide were defrocked and
arrested.
Former political prisoners
recalled that monks who shared prison quarters with them continued
to practice their faith despite being forced to wear prison
uniforms and being officially stripped of their membership of the
Sangha.
Several monks, including
the highly respected Thu Mingala, a Buddhist literature laureate,
and at least eight other respected senior abbots, were arrested.
Thu Mingala was sentenced to eight years imprisonment.
Apart from being stripped
of their robes, imprisoned monks in Mandalay were forced to wear
white prison uniforms and were taunted with nicknames instead of
being addressed with their true titles, according to former
political prisoners.
One year later, in 1991,
the then head of the military junta, Snr-Gen Saw Maung, suffered a
nervous breakdown and retired for health reasons. Buddhist Burmese
still say this was punishment for his maltreatment of the
monks.
The 1990 crackdown divided
the Sangha community. The late Mingun Sayadaw, who was
secretary of the State Sangha Maha Nayaka Committee, was ridiculed
by young monks for not supporting the boycott campaign. He was at
one time called “senior general Mingun Sayadaw,” and when he
visited one temple in Mandalay young monks reportedly saluted
him.
Today, while rebellious
monks are prepared to go to prison, many senior monks and abbots
are allowing themselves to become government tools by accepting
gifts and large donations from the generals. By cuddling up to the
ruling generals, these elderly abbots can no longer speak for the
Sangha community at large, let alone comment on the suffering of
the Burmese people. The divisions between abbots and young monks
have inevitably widened.
The generals, on the other
hand, won’t give up easily. In one spectacular bid to win the
hearts and minds of the people, they borrowed a Buddha tooth relic
from China and toured the country with it and also held a World
Buddhist Summit.
In 1999, military leaders
renovated Shwedagon Pagoda, after the Htidaw, the sacred umbrella,
had been removed amid reports of minor local earthquakes.
Local people said the spirits of Shwedagon had been upset with the
removal of the Htidaw. Restoration of the pagoda complex did
nothing to help the generals’ image, though.
The generals have also
applied “divide and rule” strategies in dealing with the Sangha
community and the opposition.
In 1996, the regime accused
the National League for Democracy of infiltrating the Sangha with
the aim of committing subversive acts against the authorities. The
generals obviously did not want to see opposition leader Aung San
Suu Kyi developing too close a relationship with the
monks.
In an attempt to neutralize
the political role of Suu Kyi, the government sent a
famous, London-based monk, Dr. Rewatta Dhamma, to visit the
detained opposition leader in 1995. Claiming to be a peace-broker
between Suu Kyi and the generals, the monk shuttled between her and
top leaders. But his mission failed and he returned to London.
Skeptics believe the generals had merely used U Rewatta in a bid to
persuade Suu Kyi to relinquish politics.
Ironically, the regime
leaders publicly accused Suu Kyi of being a communist and of
sacrilege because she had said in a campaign speech that “any human
being can become a Buddha in this life.”
Soon after her release from
her first term of house arrest in 1995, Suu Kyi immediately
traveled to Karen State, followed by infuriated intelligence
officers. She went there to make an offering to “Thamanya
Sayadaw.”
Traditionally, temples have
provided hiding places for activists, and in 1988 monks offered
shelter to fugitives from the intelligence authorities.
At one time, the regime
even placed restrictions on opposition members, preventing them
from ordaining as monks. Like universities and schools, politically
active monasteries are under heavy surveillance.
The widely respected abbot
Bhaddanta Vinaya, known as Thamanya Sayadaw because he lived on
Thamanya Hill, was involved in projects to help villagers in the
area, work that was shunned by the generals.
He was revered not only for
the mystical powers he was said to possess, but also because of his
refusal to kowtow to the regime leaders. He once famously refused
to accept the gift of a luxury vehicle from the then powerful
intelligence chief Gen Khin Nyunt.
Khin Nyunt could not buy
Thamanya.
It may indeed be wrong to
assume that Burma’s regime leaders are devout Buddhists. The
generals and their families seem to place more trust in astrology
and numerology than in Buddhist ritual. They treasure white
elephants and lucky charms and are constantly seeking advice from
astrologers.
Birds of a feather, such as
the generals and their chief astrologers, not only flock together
but fall together, too. Ne Win’s family astrologer, Aung Pwint
Khaung, was arrested in 2002 when the former dictator and his
family were charged with high treason.
Khin Nyunt’s chief
astrologer, Bodaw Than Hla, was imprisoned after the former Prime
Minister and Military Intelligence chief was toppled in
2004.
Many Burmese may find it
hard to believe that their military leaders are actually preserving
Buddhism. Even when they are building pagodas and erecting Buddha
images, the projects are based on astrological predictions and
readings.
Who, for instance, advised
Ne Win to ride a wooden horse on his aircraft and to ask the pilot
to circle his birthplace nine times? Who advised him to issue
banknotes in denominations of 45 and 90 kyat?
Who advised Khin Nyunt to
dress up in women’s clothing, complete with the signature flower
that Suu Kyi wears, in order to steal power from “the Lady”? Who
told Than Shwe to move his capital to central Burma?
It certainly wasn’t a
belief in Buddhist tenets. Nor does Buddhism permit the military to
beat, defrock, imprison and kill monks.
The decline of Buddhism and
the rise of militarism in Burma are a source of concern for the
people of Burma. Thus, it is no surprise to hear social critics and
political pongyismaintain that the generals who kneel down
before images of Buddha are the real threat to Buddhism
and Dhamma.