The Rise of Militant
Monks
MICHAEL JERRYSON|
AUGUST 23, 2015 Lion’s Roar
Michael Jerryson reports on the growing
tension between Buddhists and Muslims in South and Southeast Asia,
where senior Buddhist monks are actively inciting violence and
intolerance despite outcries from the international
community.
Recent developments in Burma have brought the
world’s attention to the ongoing conflicts between Buddhists and
Muslims in South and Southeast Asia. But while the media may
present the Buddhist–Muslim conflicts in Sri Lanka, southern
Thailand, and Burma as fundamentally the same at their core, they
are not. Far from this, these three conflicts stem from specific
regional issues and politics. Furthermore, each conflict emerges
out of an important historical context. However, through
globalization, these conflicts are beginning to overlap.
Sri Lanka: Emerging from Civil
War
Sri Lanka is currently recovering from a
twenty-six-year civil war (1983–2009) between the Sri Lankan
government and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). While
the civil war was principally over the LTTE’s desire for
independence, it came to be infused with religious symbolism and
importance since the vast majority of LTTE members were Tamil
Hindus, and the Sri Lankan government and its military were—and
still are—predominantly composed of Buddhists.
Throughout the civil war, Buddhists and
Buddhist monks pressed the state to take a stronger and more
aggressive stance. One of the earliest examples of this came from
the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (People’s Liberation Front), which in
the 1980s counted Buddhist monks among its ranks. In addition to
applying political pressure, their members were known to threaten
political figures and engage in assassination attempts.
Buddhist militant views on the civil war were
quite pervasive. The well-known Sri Lankan monk–scholar Walpola
Rahula, who taught for many years at Northwestern University,
exemplified the Buddhist nationalist perspective on the war when he
declared, “the sangha is ready to lay down their lives” to prevent
the government from negotiating with the Tamil insurgents. For
these Sri Lankans, their country supports the oldest surviving
Theravada Buddhist tradition. A division of its land is a division
of its Buddhist foundation.
In 1997, Venerable Piyadassi Maha Thera
explained to the Buddhist scholar Tessa Bartholomeusz, “You have to
defend yourself. These are difficult questions. If someone goes to
kill my mother, I’m going to stop him. So this could be a condition
in which I am forced to kill.” For Piyadassi, “mother” clearly
points to the motherland of Theravada Buddhism: Sri Lanka. His
choice of hypothetical was designed to persuade people to side with
his Buddhist nationalist vision.
During the civil war, another Buddhist
nationalist group developed that was even more conservative than
the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna. In 2004, Buddhist monks formed the
Jathika Hela Urumaya (National Heritage Party) and called on the
government to eliminate the LTTE. Whether the government listened
to the Jathika Hela Urumaya or not is unclear, but their brutal
military actions indicate that they were not adverse to this
suggestion.
Shortly after the civil war, two Buddhist
monks broke off from the Jathika Hela Urumaya and formed a new
organization called the Bodu Bala Sena (Buddhist Power Force).
Within a year, the Bodu Bala Sena had focused on a new nationalist
threat: Muslims. When I interviewed the founders of the Bodu Bala
Sena (BBS) in the summer of 2014, it had been only two weeks since
cofounder Gnanasara Thero had delivered an emotional speech that
triggered Buddhist riots and attacks on Muslims in the coastal town
of Aluthgama. Gnanasara Thero’s colleague, Dilanthe Withanage,
explained the BBS’s view of the Buddhist–Muslim
tensions:
We [Sinhala Buddhists] have two major
political parties and [thus the] Sinhalese are divided. As a
result, Muslims always join with one party and then [get to] join
in governing the country. Muslims always do that—they get the
advantage of being a minority…. We want the Sinhalese united and a
Sinhalese government. We want protection; we [have protected]
Theravada Buddhism for the last 2,300 years. Today, Theravada
Buddhism is in the West and in Sri Lanka. But this will not
last.
For Withanage and other members of the BBS,
although the Sinhala Buddhists may enjoy a 69 percent majority
compared to the 8 percent Muslim minority, Sri Lankan Buddhism is a
global minority. They see Islamic countries as helping out Muslims
worldwide, and Western countries as coming to the aid of
Christians. Who, they ask, is helping Sri Lankan Buddhists? For
this reason, the BBS considers its efforts to defend the
buddhadharma necessary to its very survival.
Thailand: The Legacy of Warring
Kingdoms
While Sri Lanka’s Buddhist–Muslim tensions
emerged out of an extended nationalist agenda and a civil war,
Buddhist–Muslim relations in Thailand have a much longer and more
focused history. The region of the three southernmost provinces was
once part of a Buddhist kingdom called Langkasuka, during an
historical period many southern Buddhists reflect on with pride.
However, it later became the Islamic kingdom of Patani. Southern
Thailand’s current demographic reflects this diverse past; while
the country is over 90 percent Thai Buddhist, the three
southernmost provinces are more than 85 percent Malay Muslim. Over
the centuries, Malay Muslims have struggled to regain their
political autonomy from Thailand. Whenever the central government
was weak, southern Thai resistance flared. Since January 2004, the
region has been under martial law. Violence is pervasive in the
region; people live in constant fear.
The Thai government has militarized Buddhist
temples, authorized clandestine military monks, and enforced brutal
counterinsurgent directives and interrogation techniques,
oftentimes on Buddhist temple grounds.
It is within this context that the current
conflict resides. Over the last eleven years, the central Thai
government has undergone several military coups. Concurrent with
this weakened central government, Thai Malay Muslims have waged a
grassroots resistance. As early as the 1960s, groups such as the
Pattani United Liberation Organization (PULO) and Barisan Revolusi
Nasional (BRN) engaged in armed resistance and then attempted to
negotiate with the Thai government. These organizations opposed the
policy of requiring Muslims to bow to Buddhist statues, take Thai
surnames, and abandon their Malay heritage and language of Bahasa
Melayu. The Malay Muslim organizations called for changes to these
regional policies and for limited autonomy. While the Thai
government capitulated with some of their requests, the changes did
not last long. Malay Muslim ambassadors who sought to negotiate
with the Thai government, such as the religious leader and scholar
Hajji Sulong, went missing and later were found dead. It is through
these experiences that the Malay Muslim community developed a deep
distrust of the Thai government and its promise of negotiations, a
perspective shared by Thailand’s southern neighboring country
Malaysia, which had tried to broker peace negotiations.
When violence broke out in 2004, no attempts
were made to negotiate with the Thai government. Thousands have
died in sporadic bombings, random shootings, and public beheadings
by insurgents, yet during the last eleven years, no group has
claimed responsibility for the violence or issued political
requests. In response, the Thai government has militarized Buddhist
temples, authorized clandestine military monks, and enforced brutal
counterinsurgent directives and interrogation techniques
(oftentimes on Buddhist temple grounds). These actions have only
worsened Buddhist–Muslim relations.
Buddhist military monks (tahanphra) are
soldiers who are selected during training to covertly operate as
both monks and soldiers. After they undergo a full ordination
ceremony, military monks perform the typical duties of a monk but
are armed and receive a monthly salary from the military. Military
monks see their work as imperative to the survival of Buddhism in
southern Thailand and the legacy of the Buddhist kingdom of
Langkasuka.
At one Buddhist temple in the conflict zone, I
met a military monk who pulled back his saffron robes to show me
his Smith & Wesson. When I asked him why military monks exist,
he replied:
Military monks in the three southern provinces
of Thailand are like guardians that protect Buddhism from
deterioration. If there are no soldiers to help take care of the
wat [temple], the wat will become deserted and untended. We are
here to protect the religion, encourage the people, and raise the
morale of local Thais. This nation can survive because there is
religion… If there is no Buddhism to teach and guide the people, we
will become a nation of chaos filled with selfish
people.
He and many other Buddhists in the region
believe that military monks are essential to protecting Buddhism in
southern Thailand, and that if Muslims drive the Buddhists out of
southern Thailand, order and morality will be pushed out as
well.
Burma: Pushing the Rohingya Muslims
Out
The recent violence in Burma began in 2012,
when the western Burmese state called Rakhine saw widespread
Buddhist riots and violence against the Rohingya Muslims. Tensions
in the state had risen prior to this, largely due to the rising
population of the Rohingya and the decline in the Rakhine
Buddhists, the majority population.
The violence rippled across the country and
brought global exposure to the Burmese Buddhist nationalist
organization called the 969 Movement. The name of the organization
is numerical shorthand for the nine supreme qualities of the
Buddha, six traits of the dharma, and nine traits of the sangha.
Buddhist traditions are inundated with numbers and categories that
stretch back for hundreds of years; however, the significance of
969 in Burma is quite recent. In the 1990s, the Burmese monk U Kyaw
Lwin used 969 as a numerological counter to the South Asian Muslim
use of 786. While not a global phenomenon, South and Southeast
Asian Muslim business owners have displayed 786 to indicate that
their establishments are owned by Muslims. The term acts as a
surrogate for writing out sacred words such as Basmala (“In the
name of Allah”) or bismillah-ir-rahman-ir-rahim (In the Name of
Allah, the Compassionate and Merciful), which is a phrase that
begins most surahs in the Qur’an.
In Burma, Buddhists from the 969 Movement and
the Association of Protection of Race and Religion (MaBaTha) argue
that Muslims pose a danger to their country. To protect the nation,
these Buddhists have lobbied for four laws on race and religion to
control and limit the Muslim population and, in their view, protect
the buddhadharma. The first of these is a birth control law, which
passed in late May. The Burmese Parliament continues to await the
President’s enactment of the three remaining bills, which pertain
to monogamy, conversion, and interfaith marriage.
Update – Friday, August 28: In early July,
Burma passed the law restricting the Buddhist women and
non-Buddhist men from marrying, and earlier this month, the
government passed the final two laws, criminalizing extra-marital
affairs, and making it more difficult for people to change
religions.
While these Buddhist nationalists see Muslims
as a threat, human rights groups consider the actions of Buddhist
nationalists and the Burmese government harmful to the Muslim
population. Since 2011, Muslims of Bengali descent (who call
themselves Rohingya) have been forced to live in concentration
camps where they are deprived of jobs, school, and access to
medical attention; their food supply is also limited. Since the
1980s, they have been without citizenship, and in the last few
years many have fled the country in refugee boats, some dying in
the attempt. Responding to these human rights attacks, the Burmese
Buddhist monk Pamaukkha explained to a member of the Agence
France-Presse (AFP), “We do not want anyone here posing as refugees
or Bengalis, trying to swallow the nation or its people. They need
to be sent back now.” The nation is Burmese and Buddhist, he and
others argue. It does not have room for Rohingya.
For conservative Burmese Buddhist monks and
nuns (who are often more conservative than their monastic
brothers), Muslims pose a threat to the Buddhist majority,
financially and demographically. In a dharma talk from February
2013, the Burmese 969 Movement’s prominent monk U Wirathu
explained, “[The money that you spend at a Muslim-owned shop] will
be used to get a Buddhist–Burmese woman and she will very soon be
coerced or even forced to convert to Islam. And the children born
of her will become Bengali Muslims and the ultimate danger to our
Buddhist nation, as they will eventually destroy our race and our
religion. Once they become overly populous, they will overwhelm us
and take over our country and make it an evil Islamic
nation.”
U Wirathu does not quote scriptures to support
his views; it is unnecessary. Burmese Buddhists see him as a
religious authority independent of scriptures. For U Wirathu, there
is no anti-Muslim violence in Burma; rather, there is a growing
effort to combat a Muslim invasion. The Burmese sangha, the sole
authority on who is or is not a monk in their tradition, has not
defrocked U Wirathu nor others in the 969 Movement and MaBaTha
organization.
New Regional Alliances to “Protect Global
Buddhism”
In this globalized world, conservative Sri
Lankans, Thais, and Burmese Buddhists have come together under the
banner of protecting Buddhism. Buddhists in these three countries
face changing demographics and declines in their majority
populations. Conservative Buddhists argue that this is because
Muslims have larger families than their Buddhist counterparts. They
also point to interfaith marriages: when a Muslim and Buddhist
marry in South and Southeast Asia, more often than not the Buddhist
converts to Islam. This is largely due to religious and social
pressures. There are no ramifications for leaving the Buddhist
faith, but Muslims consider apostasy a blasphemous act that leads
to hell. Such distinctions do not go unnoticed by members of the
969 Movement and BBS, which seek to create laws to curb such
tendencies. A change in demographics does not justify the violence
or Buddhist fears, but it adds an important context to the
perspectives of Conservative Buddhists.
This is not a multireligious country. This is
a Sinhalese country.
— Kirama Wimalajothi Thera, Bodu Bala Sena
cofounder
U Wirathu and other Burmese monks believe
Muslims are part of a global financial network stretching from
Saudi Arabia to Indonesia that seeks to overthrow Buddhist control
in their country and others. This view is shared by members of the
Sri Lankan BBS, who now collaborate with the 969 movement. After a
visit to the 969 headquarters in early 2014, they invited U Wirathu
to the Sri Lankan capital, Colombo. In September 2014, he addressed
thousands of Sinhalese Buddhists and formally met with the Bodu
Bala Sena. There was international outcry over this invitation and
U Wirtahu’s anti-Muslim rhetoric. In their defense, one of the
cofounders of the Bodu Bala Sena, the Buddhist monk Kirama
Wimalajothi Thera, exclaimed, “This is not a multireligious
country. This is a Sinhalese country.” Six months later, U Wirathu
returned again to Sri Lanka, this time to help foster an
international Buddhist alliance to protect global Buddhism from
Islam and other threats.
Thai Buddhists also have shown support for the
969 Movement and the MaBaTha. Thai Buddhists monks have attended
MaBaTha meetings in Burma and donated funds to help the
organization broadcast its messages. Many Thais have argued that
their country should not take in Rohingya boat refugees; instead,
they believe the Thai government should push them back out to sea.
When pressed on the ethics of this position, they explained to
Bangkok Post journalist Sanitsuda Ekachai: “We are kind, but
Muslims are aggressive and have too many kids. They are national
security threats who will aggravate problems in the deep
South.”
Many Asian Buddhist may hold views that clash
with Western visions of religious pluralism. For many Buddhists in
Asia, the buddhadharma is not a “religion.” This distinction is
exemplified in the reflections of Taiwanese immigrants to the
United States, who have noted how they “became” Buddhist once they
arrived. There was no identification for this in Taiwan. What is at
stake from the perspective of many Asian Buddhists is not their
religion but their basic identity and way of life. This difference
between Western Buddhists’ and Asian Buddhists’ perspectives of the
buddhadharma has become prominent in the current Burmese
crisis.
On November 4, 2014, the U.S. Buddhist
Teachers Network issued an open letter to President Barack Obama
more than a week before his participation at the ASEAN Summit in
Burma. Their letter called upon Obama to speak out against the
growing anti-Muslim violence in Burma and across Asia and urged him
to “express concern for Burma’s Muslims and Rohingyas in [his]
public speeches.” It was signed by 381 Buddhist teachers in the
United States.
This approach is strikingly dissonant from the
sentiments expressed by many Burmese Buddhist monks and,
collectively, the Burmese sangha. While there are notable Burmese
Buddhist monks who work in concert with Western Buddhist visions of
a pluralistic society, their efforts do not hold sway over the
popular Buddhist culture or the current Burmese legal
reforms.
As in any society, a perceived loss or
anticipated loss in majority status is often alarming to those in
the majority. Such changes can trigger conservative reactions and
desires to protect the majority’s privileges. For groups such as
the 969 Movement and the Bodu Bala Sena, the failure of the
international community to acknowledge their concerns alarms them,
only escalating the problem. Whether one agrees with the Buddhists
involved in these conflicts or not—and Western onlookers,
especially Western Buddhists, have made their disapproval clear—it
is important to hear and understand the concerns of all involved.
The less people feel heard, the more they will act to become heard.
In this era of increased globalization, the world is only going to
get smaller—and the need to listen all the greater.