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"I believe that to meet the challenges of our times, human beings will have to develop a greater sense of universal responsibility. It is the foundation for world peace."


February 2, 2011

Tuesday, February 01, 2011 09:49]

You might not agree with His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s decision to give
up the fundamental national goal of Tibetan independence, but you have
to admit that whoever was put in charge of branding and marketing this
policy did a bang-up job.

Just the name “Middle Way” confers on this “approach” a deeply spiritual
aura. It makes its proponents seem moderate, sensible and tolerant, and
those opposing it extreme and radical. All this happens reflexively, as
a matter of course, sometimes without even the need for any explanation,
since Tibetans, and indeed, almost all those who have been raised
Buddhist, are conditioned to accept the Middle Way as infallible and
perfect. Naming the policy of surrendering Tibetan sovereignty to
Communist China the “Middle Way” was a stroke of genius. It was also a
deeply dishonest, perhaps even a sacrilegious act.

When the Buddha spoke of the Middle Way he was describing not his goal
of achieving Enlightenment but the method he had worked out and
ultimately used to achieve that goal. He explained it in the very first
teaching he gave after his Enlightenment. In this teaching “Setting in
Motion the Wheel of Dharma” Buddha clearly described the Middle Way as a
mid- point between extremities; between the extreme of
self-mortification (which he had tried for six years) and the other
extreme of sensual indulgence (which had been his lifestyle as a prince).

Though His method or “Way” had changed or evolved over time, we should
note that the Buddha never compromised on his goal of achieving
Enlightenment. That goal was immutable. It could never be changed. The
Middle Way was only a method for attaining it. As mentioned before, the
Buddha did try other means before deciding on the Middle Way. But once
He had decided His commitment was total. Siddharta fixed his resolve on
the goal with an unshakable resolution. A beautiful and dramatic verse
is attributed to him by some early compilers of the sutras. “Let blood
dry up, let flesh wither away, but I shall not stir from this spot till
Enlightenment be attained.”

Other great Buddhist figures – Milarepa immediately comes to mind – have
demonstrated such uncompromising and single-minded resolve in the
pursuit of their spiritual goals. The Dalai Lama was as single-minded
about the goal of Tibetan independence when he first arrived in India in
1959. I have offered relevant quotations from His Holiness in previous
writings, but in all his early 10th March statements He is very clear
that Tibetans should never compromise on the goal of freedom and
independence, no matter how long it took and whatever the cost. He was
also convinced that we would succeed. “Our way may be a long and hard
one…” He said “…but I believe that truth and justice will ultimately
prevail.” The only condition that His Holiness set himself and us was
that the struggle had to be non-violent.

In 1960 His Holiness wrote the “The Prayer to the Word of Truth”
(dentsig monlam) which is recited daily in Tibetan schools and in the
prayers of most Tibetans. Tibetans also sing it at every 10th March
rally, and in other demonstrations and marches as well. Lonely prisoners
in cramped dark prison cells in Tibet may have sung or recited this
prayer for strength and solace. They would certainly have been reassured
by these two lines:

May the object of my most heartfelt yearning —
(Ring ne nying du nag pey dod pey don
Yong dzog bho jong rang wang tsang may pel)

His Holiness was at the time not only inspired by Gandhi’s philosophy of
non-violence, but also, it appears, by the Mahatma’s advice on why we
should never compromise on our fundamental beliefs. “All compromise is
based on give and take” Gandhi said, “but there can be no give and take
on fundamentals. Any compromise on fundamentals is a surrender. For it
is all give and no take.”
M?dhyamaka, the philosophical system systemitized by Arya Nagarjuna, is
also called the Middle Way. It is a rejection of two extreme views, and
therefore represents the “middle way” between eternalism—the view that
something has an objective existence (i.e., its existence does not
depend on external objects)—and nihilism, or a denial of the existence
of something that actually exists.

Whether we support or oppose the present policy of giving up Tibetan
sovereignty to Communist China, we all have to accept, at least if we
are not irredeemably dishonest or deluded, that it doesn’t have anything
to do with Buddha’s Middle Way or Nagarjuna’s philosophy.

But does this policy have a connection, no matter how tenuous, to any
other traditional Buddhist idea or practice? The only thing that comes
to mind is the popular avadana story of the compassionate prince who
gives away everything: his kingdom, his queen his children, thereby
displaying the virtue of perfect charity. There are quite a few versions
of the story of Prince Visvantara (Skt) or Vessantara (Pali), which is
popular in most Buddhist countries, especially South East Asia where it
is performed theatrically for the public, as it was done in old Tibet.

In the Tibetan version of the story Prince Drimekundan is the son of the
king of Betha, a very wealthy and powerful king. The king possesses a
magical wish granting jewel, which is the source of the kingdom’s
fabulous wealth and power. From his earliest years the young Prince
Drimekundan had given away his possession to the poor, so much so that
his compassion was a household word. One day a wicked Brahmin, acting
secretly for the king of another kingdom who hated and envied Betha,
asks Drimekundan to give him the magic jewel. Drimekundan gives it to
him, and of course the kingdom of Betha suffers all sorts of disasters
and calamities.

When his father, the old king finds out, Drimekundan is banished into
the wilderness with his wife and two children. During the course of the
journey he gives away his elephants, then his horses and then his
chariot to other Brahmins who ask him for charity. He even gives away
his two children and also his wife, the queen, to various beggars who
accost him on the way. Finally he meets a blind man who asks him for his
eyes which he immediately plucks out and bestows on him. Then after many
other trials the Supreme God Indra (literally the deus ex machina in
this drama) resolves everything in the most miraculous way. Drimekundan
gets back his eyes, his children, his wife and also his kingdom. He even
gets the magic jewel back from the wicked king who, naturally, begs for

We never put on this play at the Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts
(TIPA) when I was director. In Tibet it was performed by the monks of
the Muru monastery and not by the popularAche Lhamo companies. I was
told that it was not a favorite of opera fans as the dialogue verses
were chanted in a monotonous recitative and not sung in the musically
dramaticnamthar style. A year or so after I was removed from TIPA, the
Private Office off His Holiness informed TIPA that it should perform the
story of Prince Drimekundan. The private Office also arranged for an old
monk of Muru monastery to develop the script for the play and also
direct the performance. Finally, a special performance was arranged for
His Holiness, kashagministers, officials and members of the Tibetan

Of course the Drimekundan story must be regarded as a fable or allegory.
All avadana andjataka stories are, in a sense, poetic and dramatic
metaphors used to illustrate Buddha’s teachings. Many of the stories
predate Buddhism and the period and setting of the Drimekundan legend is
clearly pre-Buddhist and Vedic. We see this not only in the belief
system of the characters and the appearance of the Supreme God Indra,
but also in the extreme acts of charity, self-mortification and
renunciation, which are conspicuous features of certain Hindu religious
practices. In fact a similar legend, Raja Harishchandra, recounted in
the Ramayana and Mahabharata, is very popular in the Hindu world. The
first full-length feature film (silent) ever made in India was Dadasaheb
Phalke’s Raja Harishchardra (1913).

The historical Buddha though renouncing power, wealth and family-life to
seek Enlightenment, did not give away his kingdom to its enemies. Nor
did he give away his queen and child to passing beggars, nor his eyes to
the blind in the hope of divine intercession and salvation. In point of
fact Buddha absolutely rejected the idea of divine salvation. But what I
think is crucial for all Tibetans to grasp, even appreciate, is that the
Buddha never claimed that his teachings could provide solutions to
political and national problems.

The Drimekundan story may or may not have inspired or influenced the
formulation of the TGIE policy of giving away Tibetan sovereignty to
Communist China. But the underlying assumption in the story that extreme
acts of piety and renunciation, no matter how absurd or
self-destructive, will somehow be divinely rewarded and everything
miraculously set right in the end, is too uncomfortably close to the
imbecilic claims being made right now as to how the “Middle Way” will
not only resolve the Tibet crisis, but China’s spiritual problems as well.

* A few years ago some members of the Tibetan community in Switzerland
tried to get these two lines of the “Prayer For the Word of Truth”
changed to fit with current “Middle Way” politics. They approached a
Tibetan scholar to make the necessary changes but the scholar was
horrified by the request and sent them away.
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