Buddhist Reflections on Politics

Taming the Ox: Buddhist Stories and Reflections on Politics, Race, Culture, and Spiritual Practice

by Charles Johnson

I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet, strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers.

Kahlil Gibran [p161]

In this interesting and provocative little book, Charles Johnson self-identifies as a black / African American, an artist and a long standing Buddhist. What makes this commentary on Buddhist teaching provocative is its application to politics, and particularly the politics of black Americans. You just know we are going to be walking on eggshells.

He takes issue with the notion that there can or should be a version of Buddhist teaching that is specific to black people or African Americans. “What I do have a problem with is the condescending notion that any subject, Buddhism included, must be presented in a supposedly ‘black’ style in order for black Americans to find it accessible, for there is no single, monolithic black style.  It is refuted by black (and Hispanic) Soka Gakkai Buddhists who do not need copies of the Lotus Sutras written in “black English.” … For if the truth be told, the same “letting go” of the (black) self that is the fruit of practice is also required, at least in part, for the first steps on one’s journey.” He describes the “illusory” black self as “the snare of ethnic dualism.” [p109]

This may seem a tricky line to adopt but it is not based on a denial of racism or the harm it does. He is describes and condemns American racism and how that harms the lives of every black person in America. He rejects the suggestion that black Americans seek their salvation by becoming more like white Americans, albeit always from a position of disadvantage. In fact, he suggests that white Americans have a huge challenge to overcome the harm to their own lives arising from racist thinking and behaviour.  (“Peggy McIntosh sums it up very well when she observes: “I think whites are carefully taught not to recognise white privilege, as males are taught not to recognise male privilege.  I have come to recognise white privilege as an invisible package of unearned assets which I can count on cashing in each day, but of which I was ‘meant’ to remain oblivious.” [p119] ) Nor is he saying we are all the same;  he points to the genetic evidence that there is far more diversity within than between so called “races”. He just flatly rejects the dualistic thinking that classifies people as black or white.

Most importantly he is not advocating political pacifism or disengagement.  He not only questions the popular misunderstanding that Buddhism is apolitical, but has caustic words to describe the very political, competitive and materialistic world of the Buddhist religion itself as an institution: “Toshiro decided he did not want to teach or try to work his way up through the politically treacherous Buddhist hierarchy and rigid, religious pecking order in Japan, which was brutally competitive and had corrupted the Sangha, or community of spiritual seekers, by the greed and hypocrisy of the world…” [p154]

He seems to me to have two major comments to make about political activism.  Firstly, it must be built on an accurate and well supported description of the relevant issues, escaping from confusing labels and misrepresentations. Secondly, he wants us to approach activism in a way that does not self-harm the activist.  “Because, as the first line of the Dhammapada says, “All that we are is the result of what we have thought.” “  [p30]

He cites with approval Master Shen Yeng of the Dharma Drum Cultural Foundation in Taipei:  "I follow four dictates: face it, accept it, deal with it, let it go." This is a formula that merits  examination.  I take the first dictate as emerging from the principles of mindfulness, which train us to see what is before us as it presents itself and not through the filter of our assumptions. To face things as they are requires considerable skill, since it is very hard not to reduce our world to simplistic (very often illusory) labels and categories. As Johnson emphasises repeatedly, mindfulness is far from a passive approach to life, including political life; it is instead challenging and difficult to sustain. I am reminded of my favourite line from Isaiah Berlin: “If we have the possibility of knowing the truth why would we choose to be deceived?”  The point is that we often do prefer to avoid the truth.  The second principle follows very logically from this.  It does not imply that we fail to criticise or challenge the reality we encounter but it does suggest that, before we can ever hope to change things, we must first recognise the reality of what is there and what is required to achieve any change; in that way, our decisions are more likely to be realistic and therefore achievable. The third dictate says to me that if we face up to reality and accept its implications, then a serious moral commitment is required of us to act on our understanding, to make decisions and to see them through. That is not the philosophy of a passive observer, though it may be that we do learn to be more selective about the battles we take on. The duty to act on our knowledge of the world is a tough one to honour. Finally and most difficult, “let it go” implies, among other things, learning that we can deal with even difficult and troubling matters without sacrificing our dignity and capacity for peace. It is very difficult to be politically engaged without experiencing continuing anger and even rage but that is self destructive and, if anything, it undermines our capacity to be effective.  All this is my reading of the four dictates listed above but also captures some of my response to Johnson’s book.

I expected to find this book sanctimonious but was surprised at how sharp it really is.  Johnson may not succeed in turning any large proportion of African Americans to Buddhism, and I am not sure he expects to.  However, I think his book will have considerable value to anyone at all caught up in political debate who needs to find a way to stay “grounded” and sane.  His voice turns out to be quiet but deeply penetrating.

“Bhikku Bodhi once explained mindfulness this way: The task of Right Mindfulness is to clear up the cognitive field. Mindfulness brings to light experience in its pure immediacy.  It reveals the object as it is before it has been plastered over with conceptual paint, overlaid with interpretations. To practice mindfulness is thus a matter not so much of doing but of undoing, not thinking, not judging, not associating, not planning, not imagining, not wishing. “ p 96