A Peaceful Revolution
The story of TBMSG really begins, not in 1978, but in the 30s and 40s, with Dr Ambedkar’s struggle to free the Untouchables.
Vimalakirti fills in the background
In 1936, Dr B. R. Ambedkar, the great leader of India’s Untouchables, outlined his vision of an ideal society: My ideal would be a society based on Liberty Equality, and Fraternity. An ideal society should be mobile and full of channels which allow the changes taking place in one part to affect other parts. In an ideal society there should be many interests consciously communicated and shared.... This is Fraternity, which is only another name for Democracy. Democracy is not merely a form of government: it is primarily a mode of associative living, of conjoint experience. It is essentially an attitude of respect between fellow men.
Even at a time when India was within sight of independence, this was a radical vision for a nation that had been steeped for centuries in an ideology of rigid social gradation and caste oppression.
Although India is known to be a land of many religions, it is generally believed that Hinduism is the religion of the majority. This is a misleading view, for beneath the common title ‘Hinduism’ are subsumed a vast number of conflicting communities. The official doctrine of Hinduism was, from its earliest days, the division of society into four major classes. The Brahmins (the priests and educators) occupied the highest and most privileged stratum. Then came the Kshatriyas (the warriors and administrators), then the Vaiyshas (the merchants), and then the Shudras (servants). But this fourfold division soon gave birth to thousands of castes each associated with a particular occupation or skill. Caste membership had nothing to do with one’s interests and capacities: one entered a caste by being born into it. No change of caste was ever permitted.
In this society there existed a number of classes of people who were placed below even the lowest members of society, and treated worse than animals. These were the Untouchables. Members of these castes were denied the right even to be considered human beings. To exert themselves to better their lives through education, employment, decent living, or free communication was forbidden. If they dared to wear jewelry, new clothes — rather than rags — or even to use metal utensils in the kitchen, they were accused of insulting the Caste-Hindus. As I write this, my own childhood, thirty years ago, appears before my eyes. I was born after Independence, after Untouchability had been officially outlawed, but I was subjected to all the curses of Untouchability: insults, humiliation, rejection, dejection, and denial. This practice continues unabated even now in many parts of the country.
Dr Ambedkar was a phenomenon. Born into an Untouchable family, he succeeded nevertheless in achieving an unparalleled level of education (in India, in the USA, in the UK, and in Germany) and of influence. A barrister by profession, he dedicated all his powers and skills to the uplift of his people and to the overthrow of the cruel system that held tens of millions of people in its thrall. He fought his struggle simultaneously on the political, social, economic, and educational fronts, writing books, founding political parties and trades unions, establishing consciousness-raising societies, newspapers, schools, colleges, and hostels, and organizing a number of historic non-violent demonstrations. In all this, his aim was to awaken the Untouchables to their human rights and to impress upon their minds the falsity of the religion they professed in such ignorance and which treated them so badly.
At first, he set his sights on the reform of Hinduism. He soon realized, however, that such a thing would be impossible. In 1935, therefore, he reminded the Untouchables that the disabilities they were suffering resulted from their being members of the Hindu community, and exhorted them to sever their connection with Hinduism and seek solace and self-respect in another religion. This was, perhaps, an extraordinary conclusion. Had not the Untouchables already suffered enough at the hands of religion?
In Ambedkar’s view, however, political power, even a socialist revolution, would not be enough. He said: While I have condemned the religion of rules ... I agree with Burke when he says that &lsquo:True religion is the foundation of society, the basis on which all civil government rests.’ When I urge that these ancient rules of life be annulled, I am anxious that their place be taken by a religion of Principles, which alone can lay claim to being a true religion.
Soon after, he developed his thesis: You must give a new doctrinal basis to your religion, a basis that will be in consonance with liberty, equality, and fraternity.... This means a complete change in the values of life; it means a complete change in outlook and attitude towards men and things. It means conversion.
After much research into the doctrines and histories of the world’s major religions, Ambedkar concluded that Buddhism was precisely the ‘religion of Principles’ that his people needed.
At the time, on the political scene, the transfer of power was taking place and Ambedkar had to concentrate on securing political rights for his people. The following decade was a crucial period, and Ambedkar was at the peak of his career. He became the first Law Minister of independent India, and the chief architect of her Constitution. In this position he was able to win political rights for the Depressed Classes, and to succeed in outlawing the practice of Untouchability.
But this was not enough. He had gone some way towards abolishing the old unjust society, but he had not yet adopted a definite course of action that would replace it with his ideal society. And so it was that, on 14 October 1956, he converted to Buddhism, along with several hundred thousands of his supporters. By doing this they were effectively taking an oath to bring about a complete revolution by peaceful means — a Dharma revolution. They also hoped to set an example to the world which, Ambedkar believed, could be saved from its peril only when people were prepared to follow the teachings of the Buddha, and thus to change themselves.
But then disaster struck. Seven weeks after the first conversion rally, Ambedkar died, leaving his movement in the hands of his newly converted and totally inexperienced followers. There was chaos and confusion, in the course of which Ambedkar’s advice that A good disposition is the only permanent guarantee of permanent goodness
, and the Buddha’s emphasis on training the mind — as a means of training the ‘disposition’ — fell upon deaf ears.
Ambedkar’s institutions became battle-grounds for power-struggles among his own followers; the government tried to curtail the conversion movement by denying to Buddhists those rights and privileges that had so recently been won for the depressed Hindu castes. The Buddhist countries of the East ignored the new Buddhist movement, or dismissed it as a quasi-political phenomenon. The few bhikkhus who did appear on the scene had little understanding of the situation, and merely imposed their own traditional customs and practices on an ignorant laity. Buddhism became a matter of rites and ceremonies, of looking after bhikkhus and building viharas to accommodate them. Thinking people came to suspect that Buddhism was no better than the old religion, and turned away disillusioned.... All the enthusiasm and dynamism with which the conversion movement had been launched vanished into the dark. Within two decades the signs of decline were everywhere, and those sincere people who had hoped for a new life were becoming disillusioned.
At this terrible time, in 1978, a new ray of hope arose miraculously from the West. This was Sangharakshita, a man who had won the confidence and respect of Dr Ambedkar himself. Before returning to England in 1967 he had been one of the very few people who had tried to give confidence, encouragement, and instruction to Buddhists in India. Now some of his disciples were coming to live with us, basing themselves in Poona. By the middle of the following year Sangharakshita had visited India, and had ordained ten people. TBMSG had been born: the Dharma movement had been revived, and Dr Ambedkar’s dream protected.
It was like a miracle. People rushed to talks, classes, and retreats that were organized. They began to practise meditation, study the Dharma, and feel the changes in their lives. They gave up drinking alcohol, gambling, smoking and chewing tobacco; they stopped beating their wives and children.. . . Thousands of people have now benefited in such ways. On a deeper level they have begun to develop mutual understanding and friendship among themselves, begun to work on their hatred, resentment, and jealousy. People are now beginning to appreciate the importance of loving kindness as a path to unity, solidarity, and co-operation-and thus to effectiveness in society. In many ways, and on many levels, people are realizing that Dharma practice really does offer a path to a new and better life.
Today, thirty years after the first conversions, and ten years after the birth of TBMSG, the Indian Buddhist scene has been considerably changed. Requests for retreats, talks, and classes pour in day by day-more than we can meet! In the West, the FWBO has come of age. In India, TBMSG is still a child of just ten years. Nevertheless, it is standing firmly on its feet, a source of inspiration, courage and confidence.
Reprinted from Golden Drum 10.