Introduction

Philosophically and historically, Buddhism as a spiritual program for the cessation of suffering as well as a civilization force has had a relatively good record for peace. Scholars have offered different explanations for this phenomenon. Some argue that due to the absence of Divine Transcendence articulated through a Monotheistic God, Buddhism is better positioned not to impose absolute truth on others and thus is less prone to the use of violence in the name of ‘God’ as the ‘only Truth.’ Others argue that historically, the Buddhist Churches have not had temporal power and therefore are less prone to use violence. There has never been a ‘Buddhist Vatican.’ Generally speaking, there is probably much truth in these explanations. However, it is beyond the scope and purpose of this paper to deal with this huge issue. My interest starts from a particular condition of the recent increase in violent conflicts in Buddhist Thailand, especially the problems with the Thai Malay Muslims in the deep south, namely the three southernmost provinces of Yala, Pattani, Narathiwat and four districts in Songkhla. These prolonged conflicts have raised serious concerns with the big picture of the future political stability of the whole nation. In a short span of one decade, Thai society has faced highly divisive conflicts, not only in the deep south, but also the continuing clashes between the red and the yellow shirts. The coup in September 2006 has added more anger and resentment among the people.

As a Buddhist scholar, I feel an urgent need to invite Buddhism into the discussion of how to provide some ‘solutions’ to the current crisis of violent conflicts. It seems to me that to be complacent and proud of the Buddhist legacy of relative peace in Thai history would be inadequate. My approach developed in this paper is a small attempt to unearth and re-discover resources in the Buddhist canon to address the question of conflict and conflict transformation.

Religion, state and conflict in Southern Thailand

About one decade before the recent eruptions of violent conflicts in Southern Thailand, the Thai Buddhist institution has shown signs of decreasing religious tolerance both in its relation to other Buddhist groups as well as in its relation to the religious others, especially the Muslims and the Christians (Reference Satha-Anand and CamSatha-Anand, 1993: 193–213). I have argued elsewhere that only when Buddhist institution occupies the sole basis for the definition of Thai cultural identity, could Thai Buddhism exercise religious tolerance towards others (ibid.: 212). I would argue that due to the weakening self-confidence of the Buddhist institution in the past decades and the resulting decrease in religious tolerance in Thai society, the Buddhist Church in Thailand has been less relevant to the search for solutions for the violent conflicts in the South. In many cases, the Buddhist temples in the deep south themselves have been turned into military barracks.^{Footnote 1} While it needs to be said that the violent conflicts in Southern Thailand cannot be explained in terms of religious difference alone, it is hard to deny that the dominant indicator of the two main conflict parties, namely the Buddhist state and the Muslim insurgents, is based on religious identification. According to a major report on the number of casualties in violent incidents in the deep south (Reference ChitpiromsriChitpiromsri, 2010),

Researchers, government agencies, NGOs, journalists and peace activists have offered numerous studies and explanations of the above violent incidents (Reference McCargoMcCargo, 2008; NRC, 2006).^{Footnote 2} This paper aims only to address one aspect of this complex phenomenon, namely to ask why it is that Buddhism as a religion of tolerance and peace could not have been more active and relevant to help address the problem of the increase of conflicts and violence in Thai society in the past decades. Leading Thai intellectuals have pointed out a key explanation, namely the continuing patron-client relationship between Buddhism and the Thai state. According to Reference Sivaraksa and KraftSulak Sivaraksa (1993: 128), ‘The institutionalization of the Sangha was typically linked to state control, so that instead of holding the state to the ethics of nonviolence, the Sangha has increasingly been called upon to rationalize violence and injustice.’^{Footnote 3} This issue of ‘holding the state to the ethics of nonviolence’ is highly relevant as it implies a very constructive and engaging relationship between Buddhism and the state. However, the past seven centuries of that ‘engaging relationship’ have been shaped more by state control than by a vibrant independent church with moral authority.^{Footnote 4} The construction of state-centered Thai Buddhism has concocted a version of Buddhism which has mostly justified ideology of the state through various phases in Thai historical development. In this long process of symbiotic relationship between Buddhism and the Thai state, it seems that the original reformist spirit of the Buddha has been eclipsed.^{Footnote 5} This tendency for the institutionalized church to become conservative and less vibrant is well reflected in other religions as well. A leading Muslim writer, Gai Eaton, once asked, ‘What is the point of religion if it does not change the world?’ It seems that religion has lost its transformative power, its potential as an agent of change and a medium for social advancement. In this way, religion has also lost its transcendental claim to be a vehicle to bring society to a better place. The question that faces us now is: How do we rescue that transformative potential of religion so that it can aid social advancement (Reference NoorNoor, 2011: 19–20)?

The following will be an exercise in re-reading a key narrative in the Buddhist Tripitaka in order to highlight the ‘transformative’ potential of ‘Buddhism,’ which was very much relevant to and engaged with the socio-cultural context of the time. It is hoped that this re-reading will serve as an inspiration as well as an interpretive possibility to re-vitalize the messages of the Buddha in the context of violent conflicts in contemporary Thai society.

Re-reading the Buddhist ‘Genesis’

Generally speaking, the Aggañña-sutta has been a focus of study by both Thai and foreign scholars as a Buddhist blueprint for the explanation of the origin of human beings and the development of political institutions. It tells of celestial beings whose desire to taste ‘earth essences’ led them, step by step, to a process of moral degradation, which in turn led to conflict, theft, telling lies and violence. At the moment of violent conflict, these beings decided to ‘appoint’ or ‘elect’ someone fair and charismatic to act as mediator in conflicts and imbued him with the authority to inflict punishment. A political institution was thus created.^{Footnote 6} I will leave aside the lively debates among scholars whether the Aggañña-sutta was meant to be a historical tale of human origin or a satirical allegorical tale to criticize the Hindu creation myth.^{Footnote 7} I will use the translation of Steven Collins as a basis of my re-reading of the Aggañña-sutta as a narrative of conflict transformation.

One key element of my re-reading is the often overlooked fact that this tale was told in a conversation between the Buddha and two young Brahmins who are on the verge of receiving full ordination. The conflict within the heart of the young Brahmins is the central ‘plot’ of the whole narrative. In other words, the long narrative of celestial beings desiring earth essences and their gradual moral degeneration was a creative act of the Buddha in telling an alternative narrative of human origin as a replacement of the Hindu creation myth. This act of replacement can be highlighted only when the whole sutta is read within the context of a dialogue or a conversation. The weight of the celestial beings’ narrative is meant to be placed in the conflicting heart of the two young Brahmins. The ‘content’ of the narrative needs to be contextualized within the broader narrative of the encounter between the Buddha and the two young Brahmins. The following is a brief account of the long narrative of Aggañña-sutta.

The Aggañña-sutta in brief

The Aggañña-sutta can be divided up into three main parts.^{Footnote 8}

Identifying three dimensions of understanding a specific conflict

According to Reference LederachJohn Paul Lederach (2003: 11), a leading pioneer in the field of conflict transformation and peace building, an incident of conflict needs to be addressed from three dimensions, namely the immediate situation, the underlying pattern of relationships and the context, and the conceptual framework which connects the problems at hand with the deeper relational patterns. A very mundane example is when family members have lively arguments over household tasks, like doing dishes. The conflict focuses on something very concrete and specific: the pile of dirty dishes. In fact what is at stake in this dispute is much more than who will wash the dishes. According to Lederach, ‘We are negotiating the nature and quality of our relationship, our expectations of each other, our interpretations of our identity as individuals and as a family, our sense of self-worth and care for each other, and the nature of power and decision-making in our relationship’ (ibid.). The difference in outlining the bigger domain of conflict in this example indicates the broader concern of ‘conflict transformation’ as distinguished from ‘conflict resolution.’ In other words, conflict resolution might focus mainly on the conflict situation at hand. Once the negotiation succeeds in allocating compromise who will do the dishes tonight or how to take turns doing the dishes in the future among members in the family, then the conflict is ‘resolved.’ Conflict transformation points to deeper patterns of relationship or underlying meanings or culture which inform the relationship by delegating each party with specific roles. Take for example, in many Asian cultures, the younger girls in the family might be ‘normally’ assigned the task of washing the dishes, if there are no domestic servants. If the normality of the gender relations is upheld, no conflict would arise in the first place. However, if in some Western societies where household chores are usually shared between the male and the female members, then negotiation usually does the task. From this perspective, the concrete and specific situation of conflict needs to be understood in terms of the deeper patterns of relationship which had been ‘scripted’ by a pre-existing culture. In many cases a broader narrative of differentiation of gender roles informs the culture. Thus we have an alignment of the concrete, the deeper pattern of relationship and the ‘meta-narrative’ which provides the conceptual framework for that relationship.

Let's go back to Aggañña-sutta. At the beginning of the story, the moment of anxiety of the young Brahmins indicates the conflict between the force of tradition of their Brahmin families and their choice of aspiring for full ordination. This conflict is very concrete and specific. And yet, the intervention of the Buddha places this conflict within the broader familial relationship of these two Brahmins with other Brahmins. The Buddha said, ‘Surely, Brahmins must revile and abuse you.’ The reply from the Brahmins confirms this statement by the Buddha. Then the Brahmins invoked the ‘conceptual framework’ of that conflict by recounting the ‘reasons’ given by other Brahmins regarding the Hindu creation myth: ‘Brahmins are Brahma's own sons, born from his mouth, born of Brahma, produced from Brahma, the heirs of Brahma’ (Reference CollinsCollins, 1993: 339). In line with the narrative of this myth, the young Brahmins then, ‘have left the best class and gone over to an inferior class, since you have become wretched shaven-headed (pseudo-) ascetics, members of some sect, no better than offspring of our Kinsman's (i.e. Brahma's) feet. It is not good, it is unseemly, that you have left the best class, and have become offspring of our Kinsman's feet’ (ibid.).

We can see that the very personal conflict of the young Brahmins is actually intimately linked to the deeper patterns of relationship with their families as well as other Brahmins in the larger society. The Buddha did not simply tell them to stand firm on their desire to receive full ordination and thus could have addressed their conflict of the heart. The Buddha went deeper into their past and let them articulate both that deeper pattern of relationship and the conceptual framework which informed that relationship. The self-identification of Brahmins as belonging to the highest class in society was justified and explained by their ‘origin’ from the mouth of Lord Brahma. The personal conflict was therefore linked to the familial relationship and the familial relationship was explained by the cosmological tale of the birth of Brahmins, as well as those other classes which were not directly mentioned here.

Replacing order of meanings

It is interesting to note that in order to address the specific conflict at hand of the two Brahmins, the Buddha challenged the account of the Hindu creation myth by directing their attention to the empirical present (or recent past) of the Brahmins as a human group. All Brahmins (including the two in conversation with the Buddha) were born from the wombs of Brahmin mothers. This is how the Brahmins ‘had forgotten’ their (empirical) past. This empirical present was further elaborated by recounting the episode of King Pasenadi paying respect to the Buddha. Then the empirical present was juxtaposed to a primordial past when the cycles of change had brought forth the celestial beings who were self-luminous but whose desire to taste earth essences, had brought them to the brink of collective turmoil before they decided to appoint a leader who could level out punishment for wrong-doers.

We could identify three inter-related incidents of conflict here. First, the conflict in the heart of the young Brahmins. Second, the conflict of the young Brahmins with their families and other Brahmins. Third, the conflicts in the primordial narrative about celestial beings whose desire to taste earth essences leads to a long process of moral degradation, gradually and respectively generated by pride, arrogance, sexual desires, theft, accusation, telling lies, and violence. The appointment of a political leader in passage 20 should not be seen as the only moment of conflict resolution in the narrative. Rather, we should pay closer attention to the moment of joy of the two Brahmins at the end of the narrative in passage 32 as implying that their conflict of the heart at the beginning of the story has been transformed. In other texts in the Tripitaka (The Buddhist Bible), it was recorded that these two young Brahmins finally received full ordination and attained liberation (Reference CollinsCollins, 1993: 319).

From our analysis of the whole narrative of Aggañña-sutta, we could argue that the Buddha's approach to solving a conflict covers the three dimensions outlined by Lederach. The Buddha addresses the personal conflict of the two Brahmins in the context of the socio-cultural patterns of relationship both within the family and among the social classes, and last but not least, his creative imagination conjures up a world of ‘moral imagination’^{Footnote 10} which re-orders the values of things by offering an allegorical argument for what is primary and thus most important and the best. The Dhamma is primary, most valuable and best. The newly proposed hierarchy of values by the Buddha which should inform patterns of relationship could thus be embedded in the mind of the two Brahmins. Only when the two young Brahmins subscribe to this new moral imagination on their own accord, can their conflict of the heart truly evaporate.

Re-reading a text and re-addressing a conflict situation

This attempt at re-reading the Buddhist ‘Genesis’ is not an attempt to argue that the content of this sutta will be able to help solve the conflict situation in Southern Thailand. Rather it is an exercise of imagination and understanding which helps revitalize a complacent Buddhist institution in Thai society. It is pointed out that the narrative itself recounts a conflict situation which points to a very deep structure of meaning of the whole fabric of society. The fact that the young Brahmins were in great anxiety and were in conflict with those closest to them indicates that the message of the Buddha had been a significant agency of social transformation at that time. The possibility of the decision of the young Brahmins to receive full ordination by their own choice and not by force of their tradition points to the potential of Buddhism as a religion for social advancement. The conflict of the young Brahmins was a conflict indicating a possible personal and social change. This reading of the conflict situation of the story helps bring out the often eclipsed potentials of Buddhism as originally a reform movement which aimed to push society forward to a ‘better’ place. That better place is not only the possibility of enlightenment or liberation or complete cessation of suffering, it also indicates a critique, a moral commentary on the existing Hindu class or caste system. In this sense in aiming for spiritual liberation Buddhism was also offering possibility for social transformation. The approach to conflict transformation in the Aggañña-sutta is but one crucial exercise of moral creativity on part of the Buddha, which could serve as an inspiration to look and to see Buddhism, not as a religion of state control, but as a religion which offers potentials for social advancement. This often eclipsed face of Buddhism needs to be re-introduced and discussed so that Buddhism in Thai society could be more engaged with pressing social problems, including most urgently the violent conflicts in the deep South.

The current conflict situation in the deep south needs to be addressed by various deeper questions like: What are the roles of a Buddhist state to its religious minority? What does it mean to be Thai in relation to being Buddhist? What are the domains of meta-narrative of Thai society which need re-thinking so that a process of conflict transformation would be more feasible for this Buddhist country? These questions and many more would help build a spiritual and intellectual resource from which a more lasting resolution of the violent conflicts in the Southern Thailand can be more aptly addressed.