Burmese Buddhism's Impact on Social Change:
The Fatalism of Samsara and Monastic Resistance

Min Zin

CONTENTS:
I. Ontological Distortion? "The Hegemony of Samsara Discourse"
II. Does History Matter Most? "Genealogy of Burmese Buddhists' Social Practice"
III. Count Structure as Significant: The Pitfalls and Potentials of the Monastic-Lay Relationship
IV. Paradigm Shift? "The Preciousness of Dullabha

Still, Burmese Buddhist people seem to be sleeping in the "magical gardens", to use Max Weber's term, in which tradition is never questioned. Unfortunately, their sleep is full of misery since they constantly see nightmares in their dreams.

Theravada Buddhism (the way or doctrine of the elders) wins eighty-nine percent of population's heart in Burma. In this tradition, the Buddha is said to have taught that each thought, word and act are karmas that have consequences or fruits (vipaka). In this way, if each idea bears a fruit, the fruit that breeds in Burmese society should be critically examined. The issue of whether there is causation or at least correlation between the predominantly Buddhist society and the consequent "un-Buddhist" experiences remains highly contestable and seemingly unresolved.

As is well-known, the people of Burma bear unspeakable suffering derived from gross human rights violations, kleptocratic corruption, a media blackout and the world's top drug industry. The irony is that if the basic Buddhist teaching of the five precepts (pancasila) - to abstain from killing, stealing, engaging in sexual misconduct, lying, and using intoxicants - were observed, as religious devotees recommend, these afflictions would not have fallen upon Burma. However, the reality proves that Burma's nickname, "The Golden Land", so called because of the glittering pagodas and temples throughout the country, is nothing more than words. The question of why a Buddhist country suffers from such atrocious misery seems to be confusing and bewildering for those who have great passion and faith in the "idea" as a karma and its fruit!

Although Burma is not religiously monolithic, popular Buddhist culture has considerable influence on people's attitudes, behavior and social relationships. Culture is, of course, not the sole determining factor for societal change. But examining Burmese cultural practices and their relation to power in Burma's social and political context can shed more light on the impact of Burmese Buddhism on social change.

I. Ontological Distortion?
"The Hegemony of
Samsara Discourse"

In Burmese Buddhism, the notion of samsara widely prevails and can be assumed as Burmese ontological understanding. Samsara is a Pali word combining two elements: sam meaning "in succession;" sara meaning "going," "wa ndering." In its ultimate sense, samsara is the operation of dependent origination (paticca samuppada). The continuous arising of consciousness (vinnana), through the sucessive coming together of mental factors (nama) and matter (rupa), is called samsara." In other words, it is a momentary flux of mind and body, of physical and mental phenomena. But very few Buddhists, for the most part only Buddhist monks who practice insight meditation seriously and profoundly, are able to appreciate such a subtle meaning of samsara. In everyday use and popular belief, samsara is mistaken as the material world in which beings live. It is assumed as a round of rebirth or cycle of life and death, stream of existence and transmigration.

Thus, the samsara notion has become the Burmese Buddhist discourse that binds all Buddhist concepts into a neat package. The samsara discourse has been effectively manipulated by political and religious elite with the consent of the people and has given not only a frame of knowledge for understanding the world but also actual practices. Burmese (even non-Buddhists living in Burma, in one way or another,) are very much influenced by this samsara discourse (i.e. cycle of life and death). The realm of samsara is endless, lasting until one attains nibbana (enlightenment).Thus, Burmese people tend to see themselves against the backdrop of samsara. They see themselves as guests in this life. This present life is just a transit point throughout one's long journey of samsara. It is just a brief transient.

Interestingly, when a funeral ceremony is held in Burma, attendees are offered a hand fan, printed with a poem titled "Guest". It says that you are just a guest in this life. You come alone into this world and go back alone. Life is very short. Burmese Buddhism says that humans are travelers in the realm of samsara, the round of rebirth. We all are subjected to impermanence - the phenomenon of just arising and passing away or "coming and going". Nothing lasts. Nothing exists that one can hold permanently. According to this belief, life is no longer for being enjoyed, cherished and celebrated. Burmese in general have a strong tendency to treat not only the sadness and misfortune but also the happiness they encounter as part of life's vicissitudes - the natural process of ups and downs, and coming and going in life.

Thus, every experience (one can include personal crises, human rights violations, social injustice, inequality and what not) happening to them is part of the vicissitudes of life and the impermanent nature of the world. Why should one allow him/herself to get mad about these unfortunate experiences? "Let them go", they tell themselves. People's sensitivity to these normally unbearable and unacceptable experiences becomes blunt. They develop a stoic acceptance of injustice as they train themselves to put up with the bitterness. They have learned to endure the pain and misery of life. They survive but they see no point in resisting. The effect of overemphasizing this philosophy of life is desensitizing and disempowering. People view themselves as objects rather than subjects of change and transformation and come to feel powerless and passive.

Obviously, culture is always determined, at least in part, by power. As particular cultural practices gained hegemony through power, successive rulers and the religious elite in Burma have effectively promoted this samsara discourse. Acts of making merit (punna) in the form of charity (dana), morality (sila) and what not are always appreciated as the investment for one's own samsara. The phrase "investment in samsara" is a literal translation of the one that many monks in Burma use in the merit-making ceremonies of lay devotees. Although people may claim that they are actually making an investment in nirvana by creating the conditions for a beneficial rebirth (i.e. as a monk) through which they may gain nirvana, their intentions are largely confined to the samsara domain, rather than actually transcending it.

This samsara discourse is very useful in prolonging the status quo and mystifying and obscuring the causes of injustice and inequality. Last but not least, it is helpful in pacifying the anger and the struggle of the oppressed people. Thus what happens in Burma appears to be a best case for the ruling powers - overemphasizing the samsara discourse. People's powerlessness resulting from the exploitative and distorted interpretation of popular Buddhist belief by the powers-that-be and the harsh repression seem to be prolonging authoritarianism. Visibly, Burmese people have grown rather passive and powerless since the struggle has lingered for many years.

Does History Matter Most?
The Genealogy of Burmese Buddhists' Social Practice

Without adding some empirical information, the above-mentioned explanation would be insufficient. The conceptualization of the people’s mentality and beliefs alone is not enough to understand the reality. Treating the ideological explanation as the sole reason for what is happening in Burma would be an ahistorical approach and run the risk of regarding the ideal as reality. When one looks at Burmese history, one notices complex events unfolding that appear to contradict the popular Burmese Buddhist samsara belief. In other words, there seems to be a tension between Burmese Buddhist teachings and Burma’s actual political activism. More accurately, religion always remains an important medium in the formulation of political strategies and identities in Burma. No political practice is possible without involving Buddhism – and Buddhism has been politicized to such a degree that no religious act is apolitical.

Pagodas, as the most visible symbols of religious beneficence, have long played an especially important role in reinforcing claims to political power. In his History of Burma (1925), G. E. Harvey noted that the pagodas built by Burma’s King Bayinnaung in Ayutthaya (in present-day Thailand) and other neighboring kingdoms "are still to be seen, and in later ages the Burmese would point to them as proof of their claim to rule those countries." This mindset has persisted to this day, as seen in the current regime’s building of pagodas modeled after Rangoon’s renowned Shwedagon Pagoda throughout ethnic minority areas, as a way of asserting Burmese (i.e. ethnic Burman) sovereignty over these ethnically distinct regions.

            Actually, the most illustrative case of Burmese rulers using religion to enhance their political legitimacy is their patronage of the Buddhist monastic Sangha. Successive rulers have exploited the Sangha’s historically important role as a unifying factor for state control. The military regime has formed Sangha organizations in villages, townships, and districts. All monks have to obey the orders of their local organization, whether or not they belong to it. Buddhist monks cannot do anything without the permission of the government. Even traditional religious ceremonies (such as novitiate and ordination ceremonies) need prior permission from the government. Aside from the intimidation and severe repression, the regime tries to control the monastic order by awarding religious titles to leading monks who are loyal to the regime and whom the regime wants to co-opt.

However, all of the restrictions and repression only reveal how Burmese Buddhist monks are defiant against the regime. The number of monks, estimated at 400,000 to 500,000, is about the same size as the army. So it poses not only a moral challenge to the military but also an organizational one. Throughout history, Burmese monks have been engaged and active in politics opposing the powers-that-be. Aung San, the Burmese independence hero and father of Aung San Suu Kyi, said that monks must desist from taking an active part in political life. They must refrain from politicizing. However, the first organization established during the independence movement against the British was the Young Men’s Buddhist Association (YMBA), created in 1906 in response to Christian influence. It was especially attractive to young Burmans who had been educated abroad. They staged an effective “no footwear in the pagodas” campaign against the British who wore shoes in the compounds of pagodas.

The first Burmese monk arrested for his political activism was U Ottama, who had lived abroad in India, France, and Japan. He urged people to wear local clothes and use local materials. He was arrested twice and imprisoned for a total of seven years with hard labor. Another monk who was arrested by the British colonial government and died in prison after a 166-day hunger strike was U Wisara. Both influenced many Burmese people who previously had not concerned themselves with politics. But both were generally viewed as very politicized. Some abbots were critical of them for having "Mahayana tendencies" (i.e. following the bodhisattva model), since engaging in profane politics is contrary to mainstream Burmese Buddhism. Actually, both spent time in India deepening their international political experience and knowledge by joining conferences and activities sponsored by Gandhi’s Congress Party. Both were influenced by Gandhi's non-violent disobedience (ahimsa), rather than by indigenous Buddhist philosophy.

            To make a long story short, Burmese Buddhist monks have continued this anti-establishment tendency. From the beginning of the former socialist government in 1962 until now, monks have been at the forefront of massive demonstrations for democracy. When the military ruthlessly cracked down on unarmed protesters in August and September 1988, 600 monks were among the more than 10,000 people killed. On August 8, 1990, in commemoration of the second anniversary of that democracy uprising, more than 7,000 monks and novices walked through the streets of Mandalay, solemnly and peacefully accepting alms from the people. Soldiers confronted the monks and opened fire, killing two monks and two students while wounding seventeen others. One novice disappeared.

Following this massacre, the Monks' Union (Sangha Sammagi) of Mandalay, led by Ven. U Yewata, declared “overturning the bowl" (pattam nikkujjana kamma) against the military. A refusal to accept alms is used as a rebuke to lay people, since making merit (punna) through donations (dana) to the monastic Sangha is a basic form of lay Buddhist practice. This powerful religious boycott, which began in Mandalay, spread like wildfire across Burma. Throughout the country, monks refused alms from military personnel and their families and refused to attend religious services organized by the regime. This alarmed and traumatized the ruling junta, because it struck at the heart of the samsara discourse by depriving the junta of the ritual and cultural means of recreating their power. The military retaliated by staging a massive clampdown on the Sangha. More than 350 monasteries were raided and more than 3,000 monks and novices were arrested. Twenty monasteries were seized and expropriated. Several leading monks died in prison.

All of these historical events surprisingly confirm that the actual activism of Burmese Buddhists seems to work against the Burmese philosophical foundation of belief in samsara. A compartmentalization or division between the ideal and the reality is evident. It appears that Burmese monks engage in societal affairs so actively that it contrasts with their daily preaching, which points in a different direction.

 

Count Structure as Significant:

The Pitfalls and Potentials of the Lay-Monastic Relationship

The activism of Burmese Buddhists does not come from philosophy, but from the structural role of societal leaders, the monks. As a traditional agrarian society, the majority of Burmese people live in rural areas. In the village-bound traditional social life, the monks and monasteries play the leading role in every aspect of people’s daily lives. The villagers support the monks materially as a way of making merit (punna), while monks give their supporters not only spiritual guidance but also social, educational, and health-related welfare. Since they want to help their supporters, whose main concerns are with their daily lives rather than with seeking enlightenment, many monks even engage in fortune telling, astrology, and providing protective charms and incantations to lay people. These actions can be seen as a sort of mutual merit-making by the monks in return for their daily necessities. However, the ideal focus in these actions is not the more selfish concern of accruing personal merit but the more selfless concern of practicing generosity (dana).

     The main idea concerning generosity or any of the ten perfections (parami), of which dana is the first and foremost, is that there should be no strings attached. The Buddha urged his followers to give without any expectation of personal reward. Basically, the ultimate aim of generosity practice is the transformation of the individual from a self-centered, greed-driven existence to one that is other-centered and greed-free. The Venerable Ashin Thittila of Burma explains the benefits of dana thus: "The object in giving is to eliminate the craving that lies dormant within oneself; apart from which there are the attendant blessings of generosity such as the joy of service, the ensuing happiness and consolation, and the alleviation of suffering." Giving is literally a practice in letting go, one that increasingly flies in the face of the acquisitive tendencies that drive modern society.

     Evidence of the importance of charity in Burmese culture is abundant, from the golden glory of the Shwedagon Pagoda (which owes its magnificence to the donations of countless devotees) to the familiar sight of mendicant monks receiving alms. Nor is charity reserved for those who choose the religious life. Rest houses are set up all over the country for the comfort of travelers, and vessels of pure, cool water can be found on every roadside, put there for the benefit of passersby. These distinctive clay water pots are replenished daily, often by local people who have little else to offer, but who remain intent upon contributing something to the well-being of others. "The inclination to charity is very strong" among Burmese, noted Fielding Hall (1898) in his travels through Burma over 100 years ago. "The Burmese give in charity far more in proportion to their wealth than any other people."

     However, even in societies that are not completely consumerist in orientation, true generosity faces serious social pressures. In Burma these days, many observers take a more jaundiced view of "charity." "Everything has gone to pot here," remarked one respected Burmese writer recently. "You can't paint a rosy picture of so-called Burmese beauty anymore. Dana has become a self-serving tool to acquire wealth and power," complained the octogenarian author, who has written extensively on Buddhist literature in Burma. "Even among religious people, dana amounts to little more than sending a money-transfer to the next life." This approach to dana and making merit denigrates the core thrust of the Buddha's teaching by warping practices for present moral and social welfare into essentially selfish ones for future recompense.

    Dana has been misinterpreted by successive reigns and regimes to serve the interests of the ruling elite, who profess to promote the values espoused by Buddhism. Under the current military regime, dana is often represented as a panacea for poverty. In its propaganda, the junta stresses that a lack of generosity, and not poverty as such, is the real problem facing the country's many destitute citizens: "If you say you can’t make donations because you lack wealth, you can never expect to become wealthy," reads one typical pronouncement in a state-run newspaper. This Catch-22 may be cold comfort for the poor, but for the regime it makes perfectly good sense. Why blame decades of mismanagement for the country's many economic woes, when the Buddhist scriptures (according to the junta) say that poverty is simply a product of parsimony?

     Given the prevalence of such self-serving interpretations of Buddhist principles in public discourse (which is almost totally monopolized by official state opinion), it is not surprising that many Burmese have strayed from Buddhism altogether without realizing it. Many who profess to be Buddhists often direct their charitable offerings according to the advice of soothsayers and astrologers in order to accrue as much merit for themselves as possible. Not only is this practice based on misplaced faith in the powers of pseudo-spiritual fakirs, it also runs contrary to the Buddhist conception of charity as an act free of self-interest.

     Even more disturbing, from the standpoint of the social impact of such distortions of Buddhist principles, is the way charity has become a form of bribery or even a means of laundering ill-gotten gains. When businessmen want to obtain a license or permit of some sort, they invariably make a donation to a pet project run by one of the ruling generals. For Burma's drug lords, who enjoy a status akin to aristocracy in the country's capital, charity serves as a convenient way to convert illicit profits into social, political, and economic capital. Thus donation ceremonies, which routinely bring together generals, drug lords, and businessmen, are highlighted daily on the state-run Myanmar TV news programs. Charity funds everything from the restoration of pagodas to the national football team, but ultimately, the real beneficiaries are those who control the flow of finances behind the scenes.

     Most ordinary Burmese are well aware of how the system works, and remain troubled by it, even after more than a decade of such abuses. "Steven Law of Asia World Company has offered a huge donation to build schools and fund multimedia classrooms," remarked Rangoon schoolteacher Mya Lwin recently. He added, "We all know where he gets his money from, but what can we do, except hang our heads in shame?" Law is known to be one of Burma's leading narco-billionaires.

     While some of these practices are distinctly modern innovations, there is nothing new about Burmese rulers using charity to enhance their political legitimacy. The current regime has in many ways modeled itself after Burma's pre-colonial kings. This has been most conspicuously the case in its patronage of the monastic Sangha. On a daily basis, the generals make religious offerings that serve not only as a form of personal merit making, but also as powerful symbolic gestures that exploit the Sangha’s historically important role as a unifying factor of the state.

     The practice of co-opting religious symbolism for political ends literally reaches its pinnacle with the ceremonial hoisting of the htidaw (“umbrella”) on the top of pagodas that have been newly constructed or renovated. This act is regarded as the ultimate merit-making event, and yet it has no basis whatsoever in Buddhist doctrine. According to historian Dr. Than Tun, "This practice began in the 15th century when a Mon king invaded Burman-dominated territory and put a big crown made like his own on top of each pagoda in the land he conquered." As retaliation, "the Burmese king put a likeness of his own crown on top each pagoda when he re-seized his land."

     In early 1999, Burma's military rulers held a htidaw-hoisting ceremony to mark the completion of a major renovation of the country's most sacred religious edifice, the Shwedagon Pagoda. The ceremony, which was treated as one of the most important religious events of the 20th century, culminated with the generals shouting "Aung Pyi! Aung Pyi!" ("We won! We won!"). Far from sharing in the generals’ sense of victory, however, local people were left feeling more defeated than ever. "When we heard what they were shouting, we felt crushed," recalled one Rangoon shopkeeper. "It was not act of dana but of sorcery. I was also frightened by the thought of this regime remaining in power for years to come," she added.

     By far the most appalling misuse of the principle of dana is the widespread practice of forcing people throughout the country to "donate" their labor to public works projects. The regime has repeatedly claimed that such "voluntary labor" is carried out in the spirit of dana, as if there were something spiritually uplifting about being forced to perform backbreaking labor at gunpoint. In some instances, people are genuinely willing to contribute to the upkeep of temples or to projects that directly benefit their communities, but this clearly does not apply to the construction of roads and other infrastructure for the tourism industry, for instance. "In some cases, people do not mind donating their time voluntarily for their religion," observed recently exiled social critic Tin Maung Than. "But the donation of labor for temple construction must be separated from being ordered to give free labor for government projects," he added.

   Some scholars have pointed out that the current regime is worse than the pre-colonial monarchy in the way it has conscripted labor. "Even King Mindon, unlike some of his predecessors, insisted on paying for labor by his subjects, and did not require them to attend to court matters while they were busy during harvest time," explained anthropologist Gustaaf Houtman, citing Dr. Than Tun’s The Royal Order of Burma. King Mindon, who belonged to Burma's last royal dynasty, eventually abolished corvee labor altogether, following the introduction of a coinage currency and a new taxation system in 1868, according to Burmese historian Toe Hla.

    Political abuses are not the only issue that makes dana problematic from a modern perspective. There are also economic consequences that need to be considered. Melford Spiro in his study of Buddhism in rural Burmese society (1982), observed that, "The typical upper Burmese village is reported to spend from 30 to 40 percent of its net disposable cash income on dana and relative activities." This may have the positive effect of encouraging hard work and thrift, but, as Trevor Ling points out in his Buddhism, Imperialism and War (1979), "It is important to note that the money that becomes available at harvest time, when the farmer sells his surplus, is channeled into what are, from the entrepreneurial point of view, unproductive activities." A Singapore-based Burmese economist, speaking on condition of anonymity, concurred, "Dana monies may have a very low opportunity cost if the donors do not have the skills, knowledge and opportunities to invest them productively." The tendency to "invest" savings in risk-free religious generosity rather than in risky capital accumulation has the effect of retarding the rate of economic growth, he argued.

     Taken to extremes, some might argue that charity as it has been practiced in Burma for centuries is a hindrance to economic development, since it diverts capital away from more "productive" uses. However, the Singapore-based economist concedes that the problem lies less with charity than with the general inefficiency of the Burmese economy: "In this case, it is tied up with the problem of a lack of mechanisms, modalities and motivation for efficient allocation of financial resources." Although the profit motive, the driving force behind market-based economics, seems to be at odds with the values of Buddhism, it would be a mistake to conclude that Buddhism is inimical to economic growth. The Buddha taught his lay followers that instead of squandering or hoarding wealth, a quarter of one’s income should be used for consumption, a quarter saved for an emergency, and a half used for one’s business - a very high rate of reinvestment if taken literally (Sigalovada Sutta, D.iii.188). The experience of other Buddhist countries also attests to the fact that Buddhism is no impediment to economic progress. "Thai people also devote a considerable percentage of their income to merit-making," observed anthropologist Christina Fink. "Yet the Thai economy grew at a rate of more than 10% a year during the late 1980s and throughout most of the 1990s."

     Contrary to the regime’s practice of directing its dana almost exclusively towards the Sangha, most learned abbots and Buddhist scholars agree that there is no doctrinal basis for such bias. In his book Ottama Purisa Dipani, the Venerable Ledi Sayadaw stated, "Alms giving done for the benefits arising therefrom after selecting the status of the donees and the way to accrue most merit is not a noble meritorious deed." Citing Ledi Sayadaw's teaching, U Shwe Aung, one Burma's most influential Buddhist scholars, wrote: "Giving alms not only to the Three Gems (the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha) but also to the poor is the noblest deed of alms giving." Efforts to assist the poor by providing such necessities as food, medicine, and education, initiated by well-respected abbots like Thamanya Sayadaw, as well as by Aung San Suu Kyi's National League for Democracy and other, smaller volunteer groups, reflect a clear understanding of the spirit of dana as it is taught in the Buddhist scriptures.

     However, Burmese people seldom make such "secular" donations, in large part because the requisite institutions of civil society are almost entirely absent. Independent civic-minded organizations are virtually non-existent in Burma today, as any form of popular participation in activities affecting whole communities is regarded as a threat to military rule. The few "volunteer" organizations that do exist in Burma at present operate under the auspices of the regime, and often serve primarily as means of channeling corporate or private "donations" directly into the hands of the generals or their cronies.

Beyond these immediate political circumstances, however, there are also deeper cultural factors at work that tend to lead to the misapplication of basic Buddhist values in Burmese society. An inordinate attachment to tradition for tradition’s sake, without a critical awareness of the basis of many time-honored practices, eventually renders even the best of these practices meaningless. The Buddha's teachings on dana remain as deeply relevant as ever, but only when they are applied thoughtfully can their true value be properly appreciated.

The structural role of the monks as "fields of merit" (punnakhetta) and reciprocators of generosity (dana) seriously determines their intervention in the disastrous situation of their supporters. In cities such as Mandalay, where many impoverished Burmese have sold their homes to Chinese immigrants and moved to the outskirts of town, monks have been left by themselves in the city center with no one to feed them. The monks consequentially are very sensitive to the joy as well as the plight of the local people. When local people suffer from heavy taxation, forced labor, rice quota extortion and relocation, the monks cannot ignore these miseries.

For example, Thamanya Sayadaw U Vinaya, an elderly monk from the Pa-o ethnic group, lives at the foot of Thamanya Mountain, some twenty miles outside of Pa-an, the capital of Karen State. Apart from his accomplishments as a meditator and other imperceptible religious qualities, the Sayadaw is also revered for his socially oriented charity practice. The grounds owned by Thamanya Sayadaw cover a three-mile radius around the mountain where about 7,000 families live. The Sayadaw owns several vehicles, including heavy-duty trucks that are used for various construction projects, such as building schools and maintaining roads and various public utilities. Aung San Suu Kyi once noted that while the regime forces people to contribute labor to build roads, the Sayadaw achieves his works through voluntary contributions from the people. However, some observers have noted that most people who donate money to the Sayadaw seem to do so in the belief that they will earn greater merit due to his exalted spiritual status, rather than with an awareness of the social value of their contributions.

Yet in this way, monks represent “the public conscience.” The structural and historical roles of the Burmese monks and their followers requires them to be deeply involved in societal affairs and inevitably in politics. This appears to contradict their preaching. And this contradiction or compartmentalization produces several disadvantages for Burmese Buddhists, because there is no philosophical underpinning, aside from the structural and historical role of the religion. One of the clearest cultural impacts is the notorious mentality of Burmese people’s short-lived perseverance. The Burmese temperament is described with the metaphor of a hay-fire. When you set fire to the haystack, it burns quickly and even aggressively, but it extinguishes quickly too.  Similarly, when all protests are silenced, Burmese just sit back and learn to adjust to the status quo. The passivity, apathy and even cynicism with politics are increasing, while there is no ideological drive pushing them back on track. The Burmese cannot draw power, guidance, or energy from their philosophy. In short, Burmese Buddhism’s worldview does not operate at a functional level.

            In this way, there is an inherent inconsistency between the Burmese Buddhist worldview and Burmese practical activism. Burmese Buddhist monks and their followers are being pulled by their ontology in one direction and by their structural/historical role in a different direction. Life seems divided into separate and distinct spheres for Burmese Buddhists. Thus, the Burmese must think critically about how to adjust the gap between the reality and the ideal. Otherwise, the role of Buddhism in Burma’s future may become more nominal, perhaps merely an instrument or ritual for relieving tension, in the approaching waves of wide-ranging industrialization and globalization. Religious values will then not be exercised in daily practice. The compartmentalization between the daily life and the religious life of Burmese people will become more substantial.

IV. Paradigm Shift?
"The Preciousness of
Dullabha"

In fact, there are several counter-hegemonic attempts initiated by some abbots and lay leaders, including U Hpo Hlaing and Daw Aung San Suu Kyi to reinterpret some particular teachings of Buddha, such as the ten precepts for the Kings and the seven "conditions which lead to no decline" (aparihaniya) (Mahaparinibbana Sutta, D.ii.73), to reflect modern circumstances and relevancy. However, it is doubtful that their re-interpretations are based on a fundamental paradigm shift.

Actually, a new paradigm could be found within the Theravada Buddhist teaching that can reconcile the reality of today's Burmese Buddhism with its ideal. According to Buddhism, there are five great opportunities which are difficult to obtain or scarce (dullabha). These are: 1. birth as a human being (manussatta-bhava-dullabha), 2. encountering a Buddha (buddhuppada-dullabha), 3. going forth from the life of a layperson and becoming a bhikkhu/bhikkhuni (pabbajita-bhava-dullabha), 4. attaining confidence in the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha (saddha-sampattiyo-dullabha), and 5. hearing the true teaching (saddhamma-savanam atidulla-bha) (Chiggala Sutta, S.v.456). Among these five opportunities, birth as a human is most important. Human life is dullabha. It is very difficult to attain. A human life may attain innumerable merits, and is, therefore, regarded as particularly precious. The Buddha did not say that the attaining celestial being is dullabha; instead, he highly valued individual human life. Within Buddhist understanding, human existence is considered more conducive to enlightenment than a divine existence. Thus, every human being holds the preciousness of dullabha life.

If we assumed that everyone had his or her own human value, it would breed significant social implications. If people appreciated their dullabha, they would not allow others to violate and abuse their human dignity, human rights and human value. They would become sensitive to injustice, inequality, and oppression. They would have a strong will to fight back against any attempt to dehumanize them. On the positive side, one would take more responsibility for self-betterment - financially, intellectually and spiritually -- because one appreciates life in its dullabha-defined preciousness. The dullabha notion is, in fact, not the anti-thesis to samsara, but its best compliment for the well-rounded welfare of the people. The notion of dullabha develops a sense of energy and right effort to take advantage of the preciousness of our present existence, as opposed to the passivity and resignation engendered by the eternal power of samsara.

If Burmese Buddhism can shift its emphasis from the samsara paradigm to dullabha, the problem of compartmentalization will be also resolved effectively. By emphasizing the present preciousness of human dullabha, Burmese can generate infinite sources of power, energy and guidance to take a more active role in changing their destiny - not only their political and social destiny but also their spiritual destiny. This paradigm shift will be harmonious and more in accordance with the path that the Lord Buddha wanted Buddhists to walk.

 
References

Ling, T. (1979). Buddhism, Imperialism and War
. London : G. Allen & Unwin.
Harvey, G.E. (1925/2000). History of Burma
. New Delhi : Asian Educational Services.
Hall, H. F. (1898/1995). The Soul of a People
,  Bangkok: Orchid Press
Spiro, Melford (1982) Buddhism and Society,
Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

 Min Zin has been involved in the Burmese pro-democracy movement since 1988 when he was a 14 year old high school student activist. He founded a nation-wide high school student union in Burma and worked closely with pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi. He went into hiding in 1989 to avoid arrest by the military, and his underground activist-cum-writer life lasted for nine years until he fled across the Thai-Burma border in September 1997. He is an assistant editor of Irrawaddy Magazine (www.irrawaddy.org) and also currently working for Radio Free Asia (Burmese Service) as a program writer and commentator. He was a visiting scholar at the University of California at Berkeley's School of Journalism in 2001-2002.