Love Conquers All

September 27, 2007

Oh to have been a monk on that day! To have been a part of the hundred thousand, a drop in the saffron wave! With our heavy and mournful steps, all slowly plodding out the lament and sorrow of a nation. It was a march of wonder and compassion and, to sell it short, divine patience. Their ranks cut a swath into the very soul of those who choose to oppress them. Their cries were heard around the world and we watched bleary-eyed, wonder-eyed and hollow-eyed.

Then to our shock, the arresting started. The killings started. The kidnappings started. We shouldn’t be surprised– it was always likely– but we still hope, because it’s all we can really do. And somehow this time around, the glimmer of hope is a little stronger and the scorn of retaliation is that much darker. Distant, but very real, tides are shifting. This is a nation standing on the precipice.

Its fate rests once again on the thin shoulders of the monks. The society is indebted to them, just as they, as monks, are indebted to the laity. Buddhism is so thoroughly and devoutly saturated in the country, that the focal point of this, and all major protests in Burma is the Shwedegon Pagoda in central Rangoon. It is the most holy pagoda in the entire country—hence it is the most fitting and symbolic place for the collective yearning for peace by fifty million poor, heart-broken souls.

Almost every boy in Burma has served, is serving or will serve as a monk at some point in their life. Most will only last a few months. Some will last a few days. Others will last a lifetime. They will wake up every morning and ask for alms. So begins the cycle of goodwill, every morning of every day—the monks asking and the people giving.

They have no desire for power or wealth or fame. They simply want peace. They provide the country with services that the government crassly overlooks. There are no state run orphanages, for example, but the monasteries, despite limited resources, take in and nurture the country’s abandoned youth, many of whose parents were killed during previous uprisings. They provide schooling and medical care to people in need. They provide normalcy.

To deny a monk, or pass up an opportunity for karmic goodwill through alms giving is seen as the biggest sin one can commit. The most momentous act of contempt the sangha, the monks and nuns of the country, can show to this wretched government is to ‘turn over the alms bowls.’ This means that not only is the laity barred from giving alms, they are actually denied karmic restitution by the monks themselves. There is nothing more extreme in Burmese Buddhism than this.

As a result, the daily rituals of life are out of order. People, who have long ago lost faith in the government, now have no religious guidance either. Nothing could be more terrifying than to be spiritually naked and alone and forced to endure the violence and hardship that the military junta dishes out. But the masses huddle together, they endure and, eventually, triumph.

It seems so improbable that such a crisis has been brought to a head by what today seems like a rather archaic concept—the will of state religion. But nevertheless, it is a battle fought by the quiet resilience of voices that don’t shout but hum, of bodies that don’t fight but meditate, of souls who seek not vengeance, but harmony.

This is a battle of right and wrong in the most extreme and literal sense. This is a fight that actually has clear-cut bad guys and good guys. Not since the Third Reich has there been so clear an enemy. Once again, that enemy is in the cross hairs and it appears as if we are traveling down a well tread path. Once again, since the Burmese have nothing to fight with, they rely solely on their love and need for peace. We, like the Burmese, can only sit and hope.