The Demonstration of Powers
The demonstration of powers has played an important role both in helping to establish Buddhism in certain countries and in weakening its prominence in others. For example, the Central Asian masters who brought Buddhism to northern China in the third and fourth centuries used their extraphysical and extrasensory powers to impress the nomadic foreign rulers who had conquered there. Padmasambhava employed similar techniques in the late eighth century to overcome the obstacles for bringing Buddhism from India to Tibet. The Tibetans, in turn, who helped establish Buddhism in Mongolia in the thirteenth century, won over the rulers with their powers of healing. And one of the factors responsible for the loss of Buddhism in fourteenth- and fifteenth-century Central Asia was that the people became convinced of the superiority of Islam by the Sufi masters’ demonstration of powers such as walking through fire.
The common factor shared by these examples is that they all occurred at a time shortly after the local population had been traumatized by long periods of violent war, in the one case with fierce tribes from the steppes, and in the others against China and the Uighurs, or involving the hordes of Genghis Khan or Tamerlane (Timur). If a holy man or the spiritual system he espouses can demonstrate more power than the forces of violence and “evil” that the people have suffered, the shell-shocked rulers and population will naturally be drawn. This is especially true if the society has not yet been healed of its traumatic wounds.
In modern-day countries with civilizations wounded, for instance, by totalitarian Communism, ethnic cleansing or narco-violence, people are attracted to spiritual teachers who make a dramatic show of powers or who promise that they too will achieve miraculous results. This attraction is also supported by the people’s Eastern Orthodox and Catholic backgrounds, which influence them to seek miracles as a path to salvation.
Thus, Buddhist meditation courses on, for instance, transference of consciousness (phowa) are very popular in these countries. The participants are guaranteed they will receive the miraculous sign of a small hole at the crown of their head, and at death that they will be miraculously saved by transference of their consciousness to Amitabha’s Pure Land. People are also attracted to doing hundreds of thousands of prostrations, mantra recitations and so on by the promise of miraculous results – all their problems will disappear. Or they are told stories of the superhuman powers of lamas and the founders of Buddhist traditions, and they are overwhelmed with faith. They want so much to believe that some spiritual power exists that is stronger than all the violence they have known.
The promise of miracles, however, hardly ever comes true. Several young people in Poland have even committed suicide when nothing spectacular happened after they had completed the hundred thousand repetitions of their preliminary practices. And when spiritual teachers who are supposedly superhuman have been involved in scandals, the faith of their devotees is completely shattered. It is very dangerous to promise or advertise miracles.
But history has shown that the demonstration of powers is effective in establishing faith in Buddhism among those who have been brutalized by violence and not yet been healed. A far more stable application of this lesson would be to demonstrate to such people powers that can be scientifically documented.
Publicizing the Power of Buddhist Medicine
As my teacher Serkong Rinpoche used to say, there are three powerful forces in the universe: material technology, medicine and mantras. In the past, a show of the power of mantras has impressed several civilizations in Central Asia to adopt new Buddhist cultural aspects. During the first half of the seventeenth century, for instance, Neiji Toyin demonstrated to the people of northeastern Inner Mongolia that not only the shamans had powers to heal, but they too could overcome sicknesses by reciting Buddhist mantras. The people very quickly turned from their dependence on shamans to reliance on themselves. Likewise, the force of fundamentalism, which is akin to that of mantras, has brought about enormous change in many Islamic societies. Material technology, the first of these three forces, has also had a tremendous effect on countries throughout the world, causing them quickly to adopt many aspects of Western civilization.
Now is perhaps the time to bring about positive cultural developments through the diplomatic force of medicine. For example, the Tibetan medical system is based on the Buddhist principle that physical health cannot be maintained without emotional balance and the modification of one’s behavior and outlook. Lectures on Tibetan medicine at medical universities in Islamic countries such as Turkey have opened the door for Muslims interested in Buddhist techniques for healing emotional problems to learn about them indirectly without their society feeling threatened by a foreign religion.
We must be careful, however, not to make Buddhism into a missionary movement. Although several political rulers during the history of Buddhism in Korea and Mongolia tried to establish and spread Buddhism in their country in order to unify the people and raise their cultural standards, the aim of Buddhism is not to convert others and build up a powerful church. But when there is specific interest in Buddhism or a general openness to different spiritual traditions in order to solve societal or personal problems, it is important to make correct information about Buddhism available in a meaningful way. If people seeking solutions to their life problems are attracted to Buddhism simply because of a show of powers or a promise of miracles, their commitment to it, especially in modern times, will not be stable. Consequently, they will not be able to derive the full benefit of the Buddhist teachings. This is the context within which we should understand the necessity to establish and preserve Buddhism in places in which there is interest in it and the possible role that Buddhist medicine and the scientific study of the medical benefits of meditation can play in that task.
Several programs at medical universities in the United States and France and at academies of science in Moscow and Siberia have been studying the effectiveness of Tibetan medicine. They have been collecting evidence of the benefits of this traditional system in treating hepatitis, arthritis, rheumatism, radiation and pollution diseases, and certain forms of cancer and AIDS.
Doctors in the United States, such as Jon Kabat-Zinn at the University of Massachusetts Medical Center, have measured and proven the effectiveness of Buddhist meditational techniques in bringing about stress reduction and strengthening the immune system. Others have measured the ability of advanced meditators to control their metabolism. The publication of the findings of these scientific institutions, but without the promise of guaranteed miraculous cures, can help stabilize people’s trust in Buddhism. The development of Buddhist programs for treating alcohol and drug addiction would also have an important impact.
Unskillful Teaching to Those Not Ripe
One of the bodhisattva vows is not to teach voidness to those not ripe, in other words to those not ready or receptive to listening about and understanding it. This guideline can be extended to all the Buddhist teachings in general. Even though some members of a society may have great interest in Buddhism, we must never force the Dharma on those who are unreceptive either to the teachings or to spiritual masters from certain backgrounds. We must always try to be sensitive, diplomatic masters of skillful means.
The Tibetan form of Buddhism was the predominant Dharma style in the Chinese imperial court for most of the time from the thirteenth to the twentieth centuries when China was ruled, in turn, by the Mongols, the native Chinese Ming Dynasty and the Manchus. Its success was primarily due to its show of powers and the effectiveness of its ritual ceremonies. The general Han Chinese population, however, was not receptive to this form of Buddhism. They had their own Chan and Pure Land Buddhist traditions, mostly mixed together with Daoism and Confucian ancestor worship to form the popular Chinese folk religion. They felt no need to explore anything else. Although throughout northern China the Manchus built Buddhist temples with quadrilingual inscriptions in Chinese, Manchu, Mongolian and Tibetan, and even combined elements of Chinese and Tibetan architecture in these temples, they did so mostly for propaganda purposes as an imperialist show of the unity of the cultures of the “motherland.” Most Han Chinese followed their mixed form of folk religion, even within these temples.
In addition, the Han Chinese people in general were not very open to foreign teachers during these centuries, especially not to Tibetan and Mongol monks, many of whom they viewed as economic and social opportunists. The imperial court made lavish offerings to these clerics and their home monasteries and spent an enormous amount on ritual ceremonies. Many of these monks took advantage of this imperial favor and acted imperiously themselves while in China. Their conduct and society’s cold and suspicious response were thus very different from the situation that obtained in the second through fourth centuries when Central Asian monks originally established Buddhism in China. We can learn much from this.
Afro-Americans in violent Latin societies, such as Brazil, and in countries brutalized by Communist totalitarianism, such as Cuba and Granada, and the black peoples of South Africa can turn to their own native traditions in the search for spiritual powers that can overcome “evil.” They have not as yet explored the available Buddhist possibilities that have attracted other ethnic groups in their countries. They do not feel the need. The same can be said about the indigenous peoples of the Andes brutalized by right-wing military dictatorships and narco-violence in Bolivia and Peru, and the Amazonian natives. There is no need to proselytize among them.
What is important, however, is for white Buddhist teachers in their countries to be impeccable in their morals and motivation. If the non-European population sees these teachers as economic or social opportunists, then as in the case of China, they will for the most part remain unreceptive and possibly hostile.
Although Buddhist adepts have entered into contests of powers with non-Buddhist masters at many times over history in India, China, Tibet and Mongolia, it seems inappropriate today to need to defeat or humiliate other traditions. The victories won by the Buddhists did help to establish belief in Buddhism in these societies in which people were indecisive and torn between several faiths. But nowadays it seems more beneficial for people to have the freedom to explore many spiritual alternatives and choose for themselves. Buddhist teachers must exercise patience and restraint when they are goaded into contesting their powers with native traditions in such places as West Malaysia, Sabah and Sarawak.
Relations with Muslims
It is a popular misconception that Islam is the enemy of the Dharma, and that the invasion of Islamic forces destroyed Buddhism in India, Central Asia, Malaysia and Indonesia. Let us look at the historical facts.
Anti-Muslim prejudice in the West stems from the Crusades with their “God-given mission” to clear the Holy Land of the infidels. Many Muslims, in turn, have traditionally been drawn to fundamentalism because of feeling that their sacred sites and system of beliefs were likewise threatened by infidels. Thus, Christians and Muslims have a long history of conflict.
One might also think that a certain level of mistrust exists historically between the Buddhists and Muslims. The Arabic word al budd signifies both a Buddha and an idol. The eighth-century Islamic Arab armies encountered Buddha images on their campaigns in eastern Iran, Afghanistan and present-day Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Starting from then, various Muslim factions have defaced or destroyed Buddhist images, considering them to be forms of idol worship. Not understanding Buddhism very well, they thought Buddha was a representation of God the Creator, and the bodhisattvas were the prophets of God. The Quran strictly forbids artistic depictions of God and his prophets.
Not all Muslims regarded Buddhist art as an expression of idol worship. Many Muslim poets of Persia from the eighth to the thirteenth centuries were inspired by the beauty of the Buddhist images and frescoes. Their ideal of beauty, both masculine and feminine, was the “moon-faced Buddha,” which they frequently used as a poetic image. Likewise, one of their standard metaphors for architectural splendor was Nowbahar (Nava Vihara), the enormous Buddhist monastic complex in Balkh, northern Afghanistan.
The Buddhists and Muslims lived in harmony for several centuries in these Iranian cultural regions. Most of the time Islam was the state religion, but during the second half of the fourteenth century, the Mongol Ilkhan rulers of Persia made Buddhism the official religion and built monasteries and temples throughout Iran and their capital region, Azerbaijan. Persian Sufi masters were strongly influenced by the Tibetan monks who taught in their land.
Except for the reigns of certain notorious Islamic rulers, most of the history of the interaction between Buddhists and Muslims from India through Central Asia to western China was peaceful. So long as the Buddhists paid their poll tax, their Islamic rulers allowed them to retain their religion. When the Turkic rulers of northern India destroyed most of the Buddhist monasteries in their realm, they mistakenly believed these great walled cities inhabited only by men wearing special clothes were military forts intent on rebellion.
Although Buddhist kings, such as those in eighth-century Afghanistan and eighteenth-century Ladakh, were forced by their Muslim conquerors to accept Islam, most Buddhists in countries taken by Muslims voluntarily converted to the Islamic faith over the course of several generations. In fact, Buddhism usually took several centuries to die out: the process was gradual. An entire people do not drop its old ways and change its religion overnight.
As in the case of Buddhists of India assimilating and being absorbed into the Hindu majority with whom they shared a great deal of religious and secular customs in common, the Buddhists of West and East Turkestan gradually merged into the predominant Naqshbandiyya Sufi order. In addition to general features such as prostration and circumambulation of monuments shared with all forms of Islam, the Buddhists and Sufis also shared a veneration of religious saints and spiritual teachers, as well as several meditational techniques. Many Buddhists in India likewise joined Sufi orders. They did not all become Hindus.
In addition, nomadic Central Asian Buddhists and followers of shamanism were impressed not only by the Sufi dervish masters’ open display of supernatural powers, but also by the economic and political acumen of their khwaja spiritual leaders, which far outshined the ineptitude of their own rulers. The model of the successful Muslim traders in Malaysia and Indonesia also helped convince the Buddhists of these lands to convert to their faith. Thus, we must be careful not to subscribe to the popular Western malignment of Muslims as all being on holy jihad wars intent on either massacring or forcibly converting the infidels.
The warning in the Kalachakra Tantra against the aggressive invasion of barbarians is likewise not a Buddhist call to a holy war against the Muslims. Rather it is a call for all people of different faiths to stop squabbling and form a united spiritual front against any invading forces that would threaten everyone’s freedom of religion and practice.
The term for barbaric invaders in the Kalachakra texts, mleccha in Sanskrit, la-lo in Tibetan, was actually used by the Indians in third century BCE for the Greek troops of Alexander the Great and in the fourth century CE for the Hephthalite Huns. This term has also been used in Tibetan for the thirteenth-century Mongol hordes as well as the twentieth-century Russian and Communist invading forces. We must not think that the Muslims in general are indicated by this term. The list of mleccha prophets given in the Kalachakra texts points to a non-orthodox form of Islam that was also threatening main-stream Muslims.
The key to good interfaith relations between Buddhists and Muslims, is to emphasize the historical examples of harmony between the two peoples rather than their occasional conflicts. This will allow people to be loyal to positive rather than negative features of their historical heritage. Central Asian Muslim merchants generally accompanied Mongol Buddhist tribute and trade missions to the Chinese and Manchu imperial courts in Beijing. The Muslim community of merchants in Tibet have always lived in peace with the Buddhist majority. Even today, the Tibetan Muslims look to His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama for leadership and guidance.
Central Asian Muslims and Buddhists share a common heritage of food, clothing and many cultural elements. Muslims put flags atop the mausoleums of their saints, similar to the victory banners crowning Buddhist stupas. The Muslims of Kazakhstan even light butter lamps for their dead, continuing the custom of the Dzungar Mongol Buddhists formerly in their land.
If we dwell on the Muslim-Buddhist clashes that have occurred in the past, Western Buddhists will become prejudiced and support only one side. If neither side feels threatened by the attitudes and policies of the other, they will be able to cooperate and share with each other their positive assets. Traditionally this sharing has included medical knowledge and economic development. With skillful diplomacy, these historical trends can continue to the benefit of world peace.
Pushing Disciples Too Far Too Fast
Societies that are currently experiencing a war are often too traumatized to look deeply at Buddhism. Many young Israelis, for instance, come to India as spiritual tourists, attending Buddhist and Hindu courses as part of their vacation between military service and entering university. They do not have a frivolous attitude towards these Buddhist courses, regarding them as just a form of amusement. They find the teachings intellectually challenging and rewarding. They sincerely appreciate them for the stimulating break they give from the stark and dangerous reality of their lives back home. But most are not quite ready to apply the teachings to their lives.
In war-torn Israel itself there is academic interest in Buddhism. But most people are so emotionally identified with the land and its struggles that they wear a spiritual armor against any foreign belief. They must maintain their strong identification with their nation and people in order to live through the challenges of their present life. Unlike Serbians and Croats who are drawn to miracles and thus, when spiritually inclined, are attracted to Sathya Sai Baba or devotional aspects of Buddhism, the Israeli Jews are fatalistic and down to earth. They do not expect miracles to save them from their difficult situation. They stoically accept their suffering and battle as inevitable, whether they believe in Judaism or are simply non-religious Zionists.
In such situations, Buddhist teachers must be patient and gracious with people who live under wartime conditions. They need to be content to provide them with whatever level of teachings and commitment they are presently able to accept and handle. One must never push. Buddha explained that those in hellish situations have too much suffering and pain to be fully receptive to the teachings. They totally identify with their tortured situation and cannot see their way out.
This does not mean that we just ignore such people and wait until the karma that is perpetuating their hellish existence is depleted. Nor does it mean that life in Israel is a total and constant hell: it is not. But many Israelis are interested in Buddhism, and even if at this point in their history they are only ready to receive from Buddhism an intellectually stimulating respite from their troubles, this is enough.
Teachers must be skillful not to touch points that are too emotionally sensitive. It is not realistic to suggest that beginners in Dharma meditate on compassion when they and their families are under mortar attack. Nor is it skillful to preach moralistically about the results of fighting back. One must teach at the level appropriate to the audience. In the chaotic, dangerous times of late fourth-century China, for instance, the Central Asian Buddhist master Fotu Cheng advised the fierce ruler that although in general it is destructive to take any life, it is necessary sometimes to strike against those who are guilty of crimes and deserve to be killed.
If people at war are not just seeking a break from their reality and are more receptive, one can explain the methods for avoiding hatred when fighting a just battle. One must lead people in graduated stages to more advanced levels of practice. Otherwise, if a teacher pushes disciples too far beyond their present capacities, they will dismiss the Dharma as unrealistic, idealistic and irrelevant to their lives.
This principle also applies to people, such as some who live in [mid-1990s] Caracas or Rio de Janeiro, whose lives revolve around the world of fashion, beach, dance, drugs, alcohol and sex. Many are interested in Buddhism and go to teachings, but often they do so as if listening to a dance song. Their enthusiastic outburst of energy lasts only as long as does the song.
Again, one must be skillful and diplomatic and not push such people too hard or too fast. Buddha explained that those living in divine, heavenly realms are so preoccupied with superficial pleasures that they do not have the time for anything spiritually constructive. When people living in a sensual, tropical society in which one of the main principles of life is “Why do something today when you can put it off until tomorrow” actually show an interest in Buddhism, it does not matter that the enthusiasm of many is only on the surface. It is still beneficial to teach them. Although the impact may seem small, many will like the dance song and come to listen again. Soon they may start to play it themselves.
But again, one must avoid being blunt or overtly critical of such people’s priorities in life, otherwise many will feel offended and leave. For such people, wearing the latest fashions and having a good suntan can be as emotionally preoccupying as, in the example of the Israelis, fighting a war. When Central Asian and Tibetan Buddhist masters became tutors to the Chinese imperial court, they did not criticize their royal disciples’ overriding concern with pomp and ceremony. Even if the interest in the court was often superficial, and emperors, such as a few of the Manchus, used their patronage of Buddhism to win the favor of their non-Han Chinese subjects, the invited teachers still taught, and it had a beneficial effect.
Sending Appropriate Teachers and Presenting the Most Suitable Techniques
A desperate search for an end to suffering and a healing of societal and individual wounds exists in the violent, drug-ridden ghettos of inner cities in the United States and Latin America. There, people are usually too overwhelmed to think of using overtly spiritual techniques, especially from a foreign culture, for directly confronting the pressures of violence and poverty. Although there may be plenty of Buddhist centers in the areas around them, people from the ghettos and slums, for the most part, will not attend. It is like East Berliners not going to Dharma centers in West Berlin since they still feel culturally alienated and second-class citizens there. The Berlin Wall still exists in their heads.
Because many slum-dwellers have a heritage of their people having been tricked and enslaved by those of another, more economically advantaged race who felt themselves to be morally superior, they have naturally been suspicious of “preachers” from that overbearing race. Also, due to the difficulties of their lives, most lack the leisure time to attend Dharma courses on a regular basis, even if they do not have to pay and are provided both childcare and free transportation. Most lack the educational background as well to follow a program of Buddhist study.
For those from the ghettos who are receptive, one must present the Dharma in an extremely skillful manner. We must choose appropriate teachers. Although Dharma teachers, like the Buddha, should be willing to go anywhere and teach anyone when it will be beneficial, they should not feel they are on a “mission from God” and have to go everywhere in order to be a real bodhisattva. Once one has achieved the level of an arya with non-conceptual cognition of voidness, one gains the ability to manifest oneself in various forms to suit the needs of disciples. Before one has reached that stage, one must rely on sending other teachers in one’s place when one’s own appearance or background will only contribute to people’s mental blocks. Throughout history, Buddhist masters have sent in their stead those disciples and colleagues who have had the closest karmic relationship with a specific area or group of people, when they themselves have lacked that link.
Thus, slum-dwellers are generally more open when Buddhist teachers are from the right ethnic and economic background to allay their fears of persecution, or their feelings of resentment and loss of dignity at being the objects of privileged “do-gooders’” self-righteous pity, or wish to compensate for their own feelings of guilt. They are more receptive to teachers from either their own community or European or Asian countries speaking with a distinct foreign accent to indicate clearly that they are not white Americans.
Historically, the philosophical schools and intensive meditational systems of Buddhism have never won the hearts of the masses. In China and most of East Asia, the most popular Buddhist movement has been Pure Land, with its emphasis on repeating with faith the name of Amitabha Buddha, or in Japan, the Nichiren sect with its repetition of homage to the title of the Lotus Sutra, “Nam-myo Ho-ren-ge Kyo.” In Tibet, as well, the aspect of Buddhism that has filtered down to the mass population has been the repetition of the mantra “Om mani padme hum” made while counting rosary beads, turning a prayer wheel and circumambulating a holy relic or site.
Thus, when attempting to bring the Dharma to mainstream society or the ghettos and slums, teachers must present a technique that requires neither excessive study nor a commitment of a prolonged attendance at sessions of organized group practice. Kabat-Zinn’s program of teaching Theravada mindfulness practices focused on the breath as a means of stress reduction has been the most successful so far in reaching receptive people in the ghettos and prisons, as well as mainstream-society sufferers of chronic pain.
Buddhist teachers, then, must follow Buddha’s example of skillfully presenting methods that suit the audience. One must not be attached to one’s own personal meditational practices and tradition, insisting that everyone follow them since they are the highest and best. Rather, one must be well-educated and open-minded enough to be able to teach other Buddhist techniques that better suit particular situations. If, as a teacher, one lacks the competence or experience to present different meditational methods, one must be humble and gracious enough to suggest other teachers who might be more appropriate. The highest priority in the transmission of Buddhism is not the establishment and strengthening of one’s own tradition or lineage, but the benefit of others with whatever methods are fitting.