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MIREIA PRETUS LABAYEN

“Through the medium of film and video The Meridian Trust serves to convey Tibetan values to the rest of humanity, transcending differences of nationality and faith and building bridges between the peoples of the world.”

The history of the Meridian Trust and the people behind the scenes have many ingredients of a great story that is worth taking some time to explore. This UK charity has the most extensive archive of Tibet’s unique spiritual and cultural heritage in the world, with thousands of hours of video footage as well as films and documentaries.

This collective dream started to take shape in 1981, at the impetus of a group of Western Buddhist students led by Geoff Jukes—who worked in the British music industry—and His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s vision to record and preserve Tibet’s unique spiritual and cultural heritage for future generations. This began with the process of filming many extraordinary Buddhist teachers who were very old, to document their treasured wisdom before many of them passed away.

After 40 years of extraordinarily hard work under the inspiration of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, who is the Meridian Trust’s patron, the archive now includes teachings from this first generation of teachers, including Zong Rinpoche, Lama Yeshe, Denma Lochoe Rinpoche, Trijang Rinpoche, and many others. It also contains teachings and ceremonies from His Holiness the Dalai Lama, His Eminence Sakya Trizin, Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh, and complete courses from teachers such as Ven. Namkhai Norbu, Ven. Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo, Ven. Robina Courtin, and Alan Wallace. The list goes on.

This week, an exciting major work of Meridian’s has taken place: to make available the fruits of the project “Bringing the Archive Home,” to digitally upgrade the entirety of its video archive, giving Tibetans and Buddhists across the world direct and free access to the complete collection of more than 2,000 hours of Tibetan Buddhist and cultural film content.

Greta Jensen and Kaska Phuntsok represent the inspiration, passion, and remarkable skills that made this exceptional task possible, and they will guide us in this journey through the history of the Meridian Trust.

Origins

Greta Jensen (b. 1942 in England) was part of the team that first began with the Meridian Trust in the 1980s. Her résumé is truly impressive: she is a human and environmental resource development consultant; she worked widely in India with an NGO that she founded and directed until 1997. Subsequently, that she worked as a freelance consultant helping a wide range of international NGOs worldwide.

Buddhistdoor Global/Buddhistdoor en Español: Could you share with us the origins of the Meridian Trust and your first association with it?

Greta Jensen: It was Geoff Jukes who had the inspiration and vision to video visiting eminent Tibetan masters who were renowned for their wisdom in Tibet, including, of course, His Holiness the Dalai Lama. He began doing this in the late 1970s. At about the same time, I met my Tibetan teacher, Kyabje Zong Rinpoche, when he was giving extensive teachings at a Dharma center in Los Angeles. There they were also beginning to video visiting teachers. Having always been a keen photographer, I took on some of the videoing. I also took my Super 8 film camera with me when I visited my teacher’s monastery in southern India. Then, I found myself videoing at Dharma centers after I returned to the UK. I think Geoff initially approached me in 1984, and my first experience of filming the Dalai Lama was when he asked me to join a crew to film the visit of His Holiness to the UK, specifically in Coventry and Glasgow. When Geoff decided to set up a charity in 1985, he asked me to be one of its first trustees, and so the Meridian Trust was born.

BDG/BDE: And you came up with the name?

GJ: All those involved with Meridian at that time were asked to think of a name that spoke to Geoff’s vision of the trust being instrumental in bringing the Dharma to the West. I suggested Meridian as symbolic of the interface between East and West.

BDG/BDE: What was the Lama Project?

GJ: The Lama Project was undertaken by the Meridian Trust at the urgent request of His Holiness the Dalai Lama in 1987. It set out to archive the teachings of eminent Tibetan Buddhist teachers on video and succeeded in recording the teachings of masters of the Buddhist and Bon traditions, many of whom have now sadly passed away. Filming the last of these elderly lamas while they were still among us became a priority for the Meridian Trust over the last 20 years.

Meridian also trained Tibetan teams in video production, and filming equipment was provided in three main areas where refugees are settled in India. Within five years, more than 600 hours of completely unique video recordings of these lamas were made.

Today, digitized footage can be made into DVDs, stored on hard drives, streamed over the internet, and much, much more. It also means that the people who will benefit from it most—including the monasteries where the material was first shot and the Tibetan community worldwide—will have direct access to this precious archive.

All at the Meridian Trust were honored to offer a copy of this archive to His Holiness the Dalai Lama on 28 January 2009 in Dharamsala.

BDG/BDE: You filmed the Dalai Lama’s first Kalachakra initiation in Europe, held in Rikon, Switzerland, in 1985, and other teachings by him. Could you share some of your impressions from those times?

GJ: Filming the Kalachakra in the main tent at Rikon was, for me, a major undertaking. I had been at a Kalachakra initiation previously in Madison, Wisconsin, where I had volunteered to help prepare the site. But I was never very close to His Holiness, so Rikon was special as we were very close to the stage. Although I can be a good organizer, I can also be a bit bossy, so managing a crew of five, plus four production assistants, was a steep learning curve! Nevertheless, it was an extraordinary privilege to be part of the entire ceremony. I remember on one day, during the creation of the Kalachakra Mandala, there were times when His Holiness was involved in setting out the template with the monks of Namgyal Monastery. It was a very special, almost intimate time as there was no audience, so I was careful to keep a respectful distance, but on this occasion, tugging on a rather fat sound cable, I became conscious that it was stuck somewhere and I would need to go around the throne, upon which His Holiness later sat, to get closer to the mandala to free the cable. As I reached behind the throne, I came face to face with His Holiness standing with a bunch of cables that he had been busy untangling. Upon seeing me, he gave a big smile and said, “Oh, here you are” as he handed me the now freed sound and other cables!

BDG/BDE: One of your first research assignments with the Meridian Trust in 1985 took you on a three-month tour of Tibetan settlements in India. It must have been quite a unique experience. What experiences do you recall from this event

GJ: Filming the “1985 Time Capsule” as I refer to it was a unique experience. Meridian was requested by Phunstog Wangyal of the Office of His Holiness in London to send a crew to India to video as many different aspects of Tibetan life in exile as possible. Geoff asked me and our technical whiz, Tony Pitts, to undertake this assignment, which we were both very excited about. Video equipment was not very sophisticated at that time, but Geoff made sure we had the best and the lightest available.

We began our trip in the refugee settlement of Doeguling in Karnataka, home to the re-established Ganden and Drepung monasteries—once two of the largest monasteries in Tibet. We arrived in time to cover the very colorful and joyful Tibetan New Year (Losar) celebrations, with offering-laden altars and beautiful butter sculptures in homes and prayer halls. Everywhere, laypeople with white greeting scarves were lining up outside the homes of eminent teachers to make offerings and receive blessings. This was followed by the Great Prayer Festival (Monlam Chenmo), with exquisite chanting emanating from the prayer halls almost around the clock. Monlam was also graduation time for those who had studied for the full geshe degree. We were privileged to film the first Western student to achieve this, George Dreyfuss (Sangye Samdup), during his final debates before eminent scholars. Exciting in retrospect was the chance to interview Nicky Vreeland—now the abbott of Rato Monastery—and to film him during one of his first tutorials.

From Doeguling, we traveled to three other refugee settlements in Karnataka. In Dharamsala, we were somewhat overwhelmed by all that we were able to film. From interviewing His Holiness, to filming the first National Assembly of the Tibetan Women’s Association, several days coverage of the Tibetan National Assembly, and interviews with key officers of the Central Tibetan Administration.

We also filmed at Geden Choeling Nunnery, the Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts, the Tibetan Medical Institute, the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, the School of Dialectics, a thangka painting school and wood-carving center, Delek Hospital, and both Upper and Lower Tibetan Children’s Villages.

Finally, we filmed His Holiness giving a teaching for children from the Tibetan Children’s Villages and an empowerment of the Eight Manifestations of Guru Rinpoche. As you can see, it was an action-packed agenda and a complete immersion into Tibetan culture in exile!

BDG/BDE: What has being part of this project meant to you? And how do you envision the future of the Meridian Trust and its impact on the world?

GJ: Being part of the project has meant a lot to me, but its meaning has changed over the years. At first, I was perhaps more engaged with preserving Tibetan culture for future generations, especially as I regularly traveled to the various refugee settlements in India as part of my work with ApTT—later ApTibeT. There I was exposed to life in the re-formed monasteries and nunneries in exile, and saw the importance of imparting the precious and pure Dharma to a younger generation.

Filming His Holiness when he came to Europe, and especially the UK, was made possible through the generosity of Geoff Jukes and was always a special privilege for Meridian. As a crew, we strived to become invisible during talks and teachings and meetings with dignitaries, while conscious that we were effectively visual ambassadors, there to spread His Holiness’ messages far and wide. 

As a founding trustee, my personal vision for Meridian is now far broader than when we started out. I strive to keep a thread alive between the beginning of Meridian, when we were sometimes the only organization with the capacity to cover His Holiness’ visits, to the current situation with countless Buddhist-related organizations filming their own interactions with a host of newer teachers, some Tibetan, and increasingly, many trained Westerners, with some of whom we are building creative and hopefully lasting relationships. An example is our collaboration with the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives in Dharamsala on the recently completed “Bringing the Archive Home” project. Hosting guest archives, such as the wonderful visual treasures of the Tibet Foundation, is another example of fruitful collaboration.

As our new Meridian Trust website is launched, it is my personal hope that the opportunity to expand our capacity and impact will support the agendas that His Holiness increasingly emphasizes. For example, the Nalanda tradition, secular ethics, value-based education (such as SEE Learning), environmental regeneration and climate change, and increasing Meridian’s reach into East Asia, specifically to Taiwan and China.

Present: Expanding the Meridian Trust to a global stage

Kaśka Butkiewicz-Phuntsok (b. 1977 in Poland) excels in many different fields, and for the last nine years she has been working at the Meridian Trust as the main filmmaker, photographer, digital archive manager, and projects director. She observes:

I like to combine fields that do not appear to be obvious at first glance but are connected. Filming and photography are similar fields, they help improve my photographic memory, which is particularly useful in managing the archive. Because I have been to Tibet and India, I am familiar with Tibetan culture and places, it makes it easier for me to identify what I am seeing in old footage. Sometimes we have had tapes without any information, so this has helped me describe and catalogue.

Kaska is passionate about her work and feels very fortunate:

It’s amazing to be part of the Meridian Trust. The old archive is so beautiful and so precious. I really appreciate the hard work of so many people for over 30 years. It’s like a long relay race, and we are now taking their work to another digital and global stage.

BDG/BDE: This year, you and your team have been developing the new website and digitizing the entire file collection. How is this complex process going?

Kaska Phuntsok: At this moment, we have 1,169 video clips on our website. Some of them are 30 minutes long, but some are up to three hours. More than 700 clips are soon to be linked to the new website. Roughly 200 clips are waiting to be edited. We spent the last two years cleaning and editing our old archive with two Tibetan editors: Jamphel Sherab and Karma Phuntsok in India in LTWA (Library of Tibetan Works and Archive in Dharamsala). It was incredibly challenging, particularly during the pandemic when India went into lockdown. Power cuts during the winter and monsoon season in India also don’t help. The audio-visual department of the LTWA, Dolkar Tsering, and Geshe Lhakdor were extremely helpful—without them, it would have been impossible.

We spent a lot of time discussing and designing the new website. With the help of our friends from “Thrive Now Design” in the UK, and “We Add Motion” in Denmark, we have tried to make the website easier to navigate and as user-friendly as possible.

It has definitely been a challenge because of the vastness of the material. For example, we have contemporary teachings, retreats, archival footage of the First International Conference of Buddhist Nuns, now known as Sakyadhita, Namkai Norbu Rinpoche’s journey to Kailash from 1988, the Dalai Lama’s tours and Kalachakra in Switzerland filmed in great depth.

We are very excited and are heading into the second phase—beta testing—by people who are not part of Meridian. They will test our new website performance.

BDG/BDE: The Meridian Trust archive is vast and as a result may be quite intricate for newcomers to explore. Do you have any guidelines to help navigate this amazing treasure of Dharma teachings and films?

KP: On the front page, our collections will be available based on interest. For example, talks, retreats, courses, source collections, and translations. We have multiple teachings translated into Spanish. We also have a browser for exploring through categories such as: source collections, ceremonies, talks and dialogues, venerable masters, and culture, or by a teacher’s name. We hope this will help to make navigation easier.

BDG/BDE: How can people contribute to the development of the Meridian Trust?

KP: Our content is available for free. We do not charge and we rely only on donations. Donations are extremely helpful and highly appreciated. They allow us to improve the website search engine, pay for a bigger host platform for our video files, and help us to keep filming and sharing Buddhist teachings.

BDG/BDE: How do you envision the future of the Meridian Trust and its impact on our world?

KP: We would like to reach as many people as possible all over the world who are interested in Tibetan Buddhism and Tibetan culture. We wish to continue filming and sharing Dharma teachings.

* This article is published in collaboration with Buddhistdoor en Español

Videos from Meridian Trust
A Buddhist Monk – 11 Days in England – H.H. the Dalai Lama
Change Your Mind, Change Your Life (1 of 5) – Ven. Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo
Peace & Discipline in mental stress according to Tibetan medicine – Dr.Trogawa Rinpoche
The Kind Heart – Rangjung Neljorma Khandrola
A Summary of the View, Meditation, and Conduct of Dzogchen (1 of 2) – B. Alan Wallace
Pain, Suffering & Happiness – Ven. Thich Nhat Hanh

See more
Meridian Trust

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Butsuzo in the 21st Century: Promoting the 1,400-year-old Japanese Tradition of Buddhist Sculpture on Social Media

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NINA MÜLLER

When an entrepreneur is told he only has a week left to live, he reluctantly sets out on a mystical journey through the narrow streets of Kathmandu in search of his only salvation: the ephemeral dakini. A key figure in Vajrayana Buddhism, the dakini is a multifaceted being with mysterious spiritual power—a theme that is masterfully explored in Looking for a Lady with Fangs and a Moustache (2019), the newly released feature film by Tibetan-Bhutanese lama and filmmaker Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche (b. 1961). As Khyentse Norbu states in the film’s press release:

«[Dakini is an] inexpressible, unthinkable, unfathomable state. The only way to present it to the ordinary man, to ordinary people like us, we could only use language, we could only use symbols, so this is why you will notice that in the Himalayas there are so many representations of dakinis.»

As Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche points out, the concept of dakini is incredibly difficult to understand let alone to depict, yet in his film he does a wonderful job at conveying these intricacies. Known in the film industry as Khyentse Norbu, the lama debuted as a consultant on Italian filmmaker Bernardo Bertolucci’s Little Buddha (1994), where he supervised the Tibetan monks to ensure that their performances were authentic. With five feature films now under his belt, it is evident that authenticity has remained a focal point of Khyentse Norbu’s process. A master at honing and depicting local stories and talents, his contribution to the development of the film industry in the Himalayan region is significant, and he intentionally stays clear of stereotypical film conventions. Looking for a Lady with Fangs and a Moustache follows suit. Khyentse Norbu tells us: 

Though few films today escape the enormous influence of the Hollywood and Bollywood formulae, I want to explore in this film a distinctive Himalayan way of expression and storytelling that is true to this region’s culture, tradition and wisdom.

Khyentse Norbu took many calculated decisions to ensure that the film is evocative of the region it depicts. For example, he used only non-professional Nepalese actors. A wonderful consequence of this is that the characters feel incredibly genuine. Khyentse Norbu highlights that the film features “an actual highly respected spiritual master whose qualities and demeanor a hundred thousand trained actors could not fathom let alone convey.” Indicative of this desire to put forward content that is region specific and that goes beyond pure entertainment is the fact that the film premiered as part of the Rubin Museum’s brainwave series on 8 April 2021. In an online discussion that followed the viewing, Khyentse Norbu highlighted that devotion is an incredibly important aspect of Buddhism. Through his films, he tries to capture and portray the mystical dimensions of life that are integral to human existence but are sadly being eroded in the current age of imperialism and materialism.

An exploration of the role of Tibetan mysticism in today’s post-modern world, the film focuses on the existential crisis of its protagonist Tenzin. Dubbed a “modern man” by the supporting characters, Tenzin perfectly illustrates the contrast between the old and the new. Having largely discarded his family’s special relationship with traditional Himalayan music, he is preoccupied with founding Kathmandu’s hippest coffee shop. While this secondary plot unfortunately serves as nothing more than an exposition tool—the relationship between Tenzin and his mother is feeble, and his search for a coffee shop is lacking in substantial conflict—the primary plot around Tenzin’s existential crisis is deeply engaging. When an oracle monk predicts that Tenzin’s dream of his diseased sister means impending doom, the protagonist is skeptical and this feeling is likely to be shared by the viewer. Although the oracle monk is adorned with a traditional Tibetan robe, he wears flashy sunglasses, a chunky set of headphones, and is constantly glued to his tablet in another signal of eroding values. Add to this a soundtrack that features quaint Himalayan music, together with internationally renowned music by the likes of Tom Waits, as well as shots of the general public, some of whom are wearing traditional garb while others wear office suits, and it becomes evident that Kathmandu is a real hodgepodge of the old and the new.

While Tenzin initially scorns the monk’s premonition, it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore the signs: his daily life is permeated not only with visions of his sister, but also of creatures with fangs and other fearsome apparitions. His other senses are also affected and he is particularly spooked by sudden and intermittent losses of hearing. Director of photography Mark Lee Ping Bing sets the tone beautifully by creating a dreamlike atmosphere that is engrossing and that helps the viewer to share the protagonist’s haunting feelings. Fantastical visions are superimposed on everyday sights, and this highlights the sense that, if one were to look close enough, one would discover that the mundane is always comprised of the magical. That said, the film features very fluid cinematography with subtle yet relentless movement. And while this helps to give the scenes their dreamlike quality, in some instances the choice is unmotivated and therefore dilutes the overall effect.

A visit to the doctor tells Tenzin that there is nothing wrong with him physically. It must therefore be depression, and modern-day healthcare’s one-stop solution for treating problems of the mind is to prescribe a dose of anti-depressants. This habit of providing immediate answers that ultimately numb the experiences of the soul is wonderfully contrasted with the very next scene, when a spiritual sage provides Tenzin with a completely different solution: he must find a dakini. But how and where does one look for a dakini? This time, there are no easy magic pills to swallow and no suggestion that Tenzin medicate and numb his uncomfortable mindset. Instead, he is encouraged to explore the signs, to think for himself, and to be creative. Whether it be in his own breath, in the water he drinks, or by singing in a crowd, Tenzin will only be saved if he allows himself to be truly alive. “You need to be bold. Dakinis don’t trust people with inhibitions,” the sage tells him.

The approach is very Buddhist: it is about a mindset rather than a fixed outcome. When Tenzin begins to doubt that a potential candidate is in fact a dakini, the sage reprimands him: “You’ve ruined it by thinking it’s not her. That’s called wrong view.” It is no secret that dakini can be a fleeting concept. As Khyentse Norbu explains, a dakini is nothing and everything simultaneously. Through its protagonist, Looking for a Lady with Fangs and a Moustache encourages the viewer to be curious about the dakini and, ultimately, the mystical: is the tea girl dakini? Is Tenzin’s friend Kunsel dakini? Is dakini a stranger? Is Tenzin dakini? Am I dakini? This spectacular journey, together with the dreamlike visuals and carefully chosen music, has the potential to inspire a sense of devotion in the viewer that will linger for days.

By Raymond Lam

For more than a millennium, since the glory days of Kyoto and Nara Buddhism, a unique spiritual calling has endured in Japan, although its popularity has waned. This is the discipline of the busshi, carvers of statues depicting buddhas and bodhisattvas. Through his soon-to-be released film Carving the Divine, Yujiro Seki, a Japanese-born filmmaker based in Los Angeles, provides a window into the lives of busshi in contemporary Japan, many of them young people who have committed themselves completely to the art. The documentary, perhaps the first to focus comprehensively on Japanese Buddhist sculptors, follows a small group of apprentices studying in the lineage of grandmaster Kourin Saito.

“It is my absolute honor to present this movie to the world, portraying one of the most important—or arguably the most important—spiritual arts of Japan and the artists who carve these divinities,” said Yujiro, who has a bachelor’s degree in filmmaking from UC Berkeley. “In fact, this project has also become ‘divine’ to me; it truly fills me with a great sense of purpose. I’ve poured my heart and soul into this project, but not for my personal glory. In the film I see something bigger than myself. My physical body will one day decay and disappear but as an artist I aspire to leave behind work that is not temporal but eternal. Carving the Divine has given me that opportunity.”

Woodcarving is not a trivial activity. The clients (who may be temple heads, Buddhist masters, directors of Buddhist charities, or lay donors) expect the highest quality of craftsmanship, and great shame befalls the busshi that produces an inferior product. For each client, each statue is not simply an aesthetic masterpiece, but a channel or repository of the bodhisattvas.

Apprentices work in an atmosphere akin to a military fraternity. “As a profession, being a busshi brings more pain than joy,” reflects one of the artists. There is little patience or compassion for apprentices who cannot handle how the busshi center is run: “We won’t calmly teach you,” he further cautions. “We’ll yell at you if you do something wrong.” And yelling there is. The teacher-student relationship is not and cannot be one of equals. Aside from sloppy work, minor infractions such as forgetting to bring a full tool kit, leaving a room untidy, or even not responding to instructions respectfully and immediately are met with an angry rebuke. The Japanese language might not have the same range of swear words as English, but to Japanese ears, the way errant students are scolded might as well be a stream of profanities. 

Yujiro agrees with the narrative that this work is to be taken seriously. “First and foremost, the life of an apprentice is tough. The teacher demands obedience and single-minded dedication. It is not a school with a curriculum. The apprentice must quickly and quietly ‘steal’ the techniques of the master and seniors by observation,” he says. “This is a life of never-ending, monotonous work. The apprentices wake up very early in the morning, prepare and eat breakfast, clean, work for the masters in the morning, prepare and eat lunch, and work for masters again in the afternoon. In the evening and into the night they continue working on their own projects. This daily schedule is repeated every day for many years.”

Hammering home the parallels between the busshi school and a Renaissance-era trade guild, Yujiro explains: “It’s a world of survival of the fittest. If you want to learn and do more important tasks then you must get ahead of your colleagues. The better you get, the more important jobs you will be assigned. If you don’t improve you will keep doing the same menial tasks, or even less important tasks, if your colleagues surpass you in skill. This is a tough world. Only those with dedication, commitment, and speed can get ahead.” Furthermore, there is nothing in the busshi “industry” to help students find employment or commissions. Traditionally, these techniques have only been passed down through the apprentice system. As far as Yujiro has seen, different lineages do not mingle much and do not openly share their knowledge and techniques with one another.

The most important relationship for a busshi to maintain, much like in martial arts, is with their master. Yujiro notes that a master will often give a subset of his commissions to former apprentices, which can help a lot in the early years of independence. In reality, a 3–5 year apprenticeship is not enough for most apprentices to be truly independent: “I would say it takes at least 10 years to reach that level and build a solid foundation as a busshi. Support from their master and others within their lineage is critical.”

Making a documentary is always a challenge. For Yujiro, shooting and editing demanded effort, time, money, and luck: “Putting this together almost single-handedly was a great challenge, particularly shooting and organizing the incredibly vast and wide-ranging content. It was important for me not to misrepresent or overgeneralize the depth and subtleties of the busshi community. Many documentaries out there oversimplify complicated subject matters. I did not want to do that.”        

Another challenge for Yujiro was finding a story to share based on the fairly mundane busshi lifestyle. Despite its high stakes, the act of carving is actually tedious, repetitive work: “I didn’t want the movie to turn into a ‘how to sculpt’ tutorial. Telling a multi-dimensional story of Japanese Buddhist sculptures was very difficult, but after about a year of intense editing our post-production team felt really good about what we were able to achieve in that respect.”

Yujiro notes that feedback on the film—officially yet to be released—has been positive. “A painter told me that he personally identified with the apprentices and remembered learning his craft in art school. A monk agreed with a message in the film: that greater international recognition of Japanese Buddhism would lead to renewed recognition at home. A father praised the carvers’ discipline and work ethic, and hoped that his children could exhibit the same qualities. One retired businessman and amateur stone sculptor told me that he was mesmerized by the process of the art and actually dreamed about carving that night. As a filmmaker, I am truly moved to hear distinctive opinions.”

Much of Yujiro’s time is now spent riding the beast of social media, which he has never done so diligently until the completion of Carving the Divine. He also faces the unenviable situation of promoting the film to the public while at the same time submitting it to film festivals, which require entries to be previously undistributed. Much like the busshi’s devotion to their art, this film is now Yujiro’s singular focus: “I am truly living in the moment and cannot think about other projects right now. It took a long time for me to find a sense of purpose in my life. I was lost, confused and hopeless. Now, I am filled with a vision, not only to promote Carving the Divine but the entire culture of busshi and butsuzo.

“I will die one day. That’s inevitable. But when that happens my greatest joy will be the knowledge that my work survives me, to be appreciated by people who come thereafter. This is what I’m currently striving toward. If I die now, my art will die too. I cannot let that happen. I think only of Carving the Divine, nothing else.”

This article was originally published on Buddhistdoor Global (August 14, 2019).

See more

Carving the Divine 
Carving the Divine trailer (YouTube)
Carving the Divine (Instagram)
Carving the Divine (Facebook)
Carving the Divine (Twitter)
Carving the Divine TV (YouTube)

Butsuzotion

KATHERINE V. MASÍS-IVERSON

Read de part one here

My Reincarnation (2011)

Filmmaker and director Jennifer Fox based this documentary on materials filmed from 1989 to 2010, and tells the story of another tulku born in the West who in turn is the son of a tulku born in Tibet. Yeshi Silvano Namkhai is the son of Chögyal Namkhai Norbu (1938-2018) who died seven years after filming. Namkhai Norbu was a professor of Tibetan culture at the Oriental University of Naples (Università degli Studi di Napoli–L’Orientale) and, later, a Dzogchen teacher. Exiled from Tibet and resident in Italy since 1960, he met his wife Rosa with whom he formed a family with his son Yeshi (born in 1970) and his daughter Yuchen (born in 1971).

Namkhai Norbu explains that when his son Yeshi was in his mother’s womb, he had dreams of his uncle Khyentse Rinpoche, who had been one of his teachers in Tibet. In a dream, he went to visit Khyentse along with Rosa and a red light emerged and dissolved into her. After having this dream, he received a letter from a Lama based in India in which he said that Yeshi was the reincarnation of Khyentse.

The documentary begins with underwater scenes; We can hear Yeshi’s voice, who narrates that he had had dreams and visions about Tibet in his childhood. He acknowledges that these dreams and visions made him afraid and that he did not want to go to Tibet. He remembers that when he asked his father about these images, he “just listened” and did not respond. Later in the film, in a very casual manner, Yeshi claims to have “evidence”, for example, having identified specific places in Tibet through photographs.

At different points in the documentary, Namkhai Norbu states that didn’t want his son to suffer the situations that Khyentse suffered in his previous life and that he has tried not to interfere in Yeshi’s decisions regarding his path in life. his life. Perhaps this explains why, according to Yeshi, he does not answer his questions about his dreams, visions and fears.

However, at nineteen years old, Yeshi reports that his father has always told him that “he is an important person” and that “they are waiting for him in Tibet.” He comments that his father travels the world teaching Dzogchen most of the year and that they don’t have a close bond. He also perceives that his father’s followers idealize him: “Many people look for myths, legends, and saints.” He rejects what he considers to be his father’s expectations of him and the possibility of “being in the shadow of something or someone.”

Thirteen years later, in 2002, the documentary shows Yeshi as a computer professional. He has got married, started a family, and lives “in a very ordinary and very Italian way.” Time and time again, he resists what he perceives to be the expectations of others should he agree to be a teacher. At Dzogchen practice centres, he observes his father officiating at ceremonies, facilitating practices and answering questions from students who wait in long lines to be received, some of them seeking advice about difficult personal situations. Yeshi notices the way people “think the solution to their problems is my father” and that they “forget that my father is human.”

Later, Yeshi relates that during the long car trips that were part of his work, he began to listen to and follow Dzogchen chants, which became a form of spiritual practice for him. Yeshi leaves his job and, little by little, in order to help his father, he accepts administrative management tasks in different Dzogchen centres around the world. Not only do his childhood visions return, he also has new ones in which he begins to remember painful events about his death in his previous life in Tibet. Finally, he decides to fulfil his father’s wish: to travel to Tibet “to finish what was yet to be done.” On the trip to Khyentse Rinpoche’s village, he expresses his concern about the expectations the villagers might have regarding his visit. The interpreter responds that “the only thing they want is a teacher.” Yeshi wears ceremonial robes, performs rituals, and listens to touching testimonial accounts from those who knew Khyentse Rinpoche, his previous reincarnation.

A year later (2010), Yeshi gives talks to Dzogchen students, not wearing robes, but ordinary Western clothes. A later scene shows Yeshi sitting on the beach with his father, enjoying the waves. There are final signs indicating that Yeshi has assumed the role of teacher as the tulku that he is.

LACK OF SOCIAL SUPPORT, OR PERSONAL UNCERTAINTIES?

In Memoiries d’ un autre vie / Memories of a Previous Life, Tenzin Sherab (Elijah Ary) shows no signs of having strong internal conflicts regarding where his life should take place. After a decade of monastic training in India, he is determined on his purpose of returning to the West.

In Tulku, Dylan Henderson, Ashoka Mukpo and Ruben Derksen seem certain of the decisions they have made about their lives. On the other hand, Gesar Mukpo, the filmmaker, like Wyatt Arnold, express strong uncertainties about how to deal with the fact of having been identified as tulkus in their childhood.

In My Reincarnation, Yeshi Silvano Namkhai, after years of resisting assuming the role of his father’s successor in teaching Dzogchen, clearly seems to accept it at the end of the film.

In all three documentaries, the only two tulkus who express concern about the presence or absence of social and cultural support for their roles as tulkus in the West are Gesar Mukpo and Wyatt Arnold. This is possibly a reflection of their personal uncertainties, since, had they assumed the functions of tulku, they would have undoubtedly received abundant support, both in their own families and in their respective Buddhist communities in the West.

WHERE ARE THEY NOWADAYS?

It has been several years since these documentaries were filmed. What are these tulkus doing today?

Tenzin Sherab (Elijah Ary) lives in France and works as a Gestalt psychotherapist and meditation instructor for lay people. He is a family man and has written an autobiography in which he narrates his experiences in the Western and Eastern worlds.

Today Wyatt Arnold is an engineer and family man. He claims to feel closely connected to Buddhist teachings, even though he works in the secular world.

Ruben Derksen lives and works in the travel industry in Bangkok, Thailand, judging by his personal Facebook page.

There are not many allusions to Yeshi Silvano Namkhi on the Dzogchen Community websites in the last five years. However, there is news about a teaching transmission event offered by Yeshi to be taught in April 2020, which was later suspended until further notice, due to the coronavirus pandemic.

There are no recent news about the other tulkus appearing in the documentaries, at least as of today.

FINAL THOUGHTS

None of the tulkus featured in the three documentaries needed to be searched by a disciple. They were already located and only tests were conducted to confirm their identities. From a Tibetan Buddhist perspective, there is no definite explanation why these tulkus chose to reincarnate in the West. Probably, not even they themselves could give a compelling reason for it. Perhaps they wanted to reveal that being a tulku is not so relevant today, at least for Buddhism in the Wes, or it could be that the purpose of being born again in other times and in other spaces simply comes to show that there are many ways and many contexts from which to practice and teach the Dharma, in addition to the traditional ones.

REFERENCES

The Tulku Tradition

Khyentse, J. (2016).  Time for Radical Change in How We Raise Our Tulkus. Tricycle.https://tricycle.org/trikedaily/dzongsar-jamyang-khyentse-tulkus/

MacKenzie, V. (1998). Maestros de la reencarnación: Quiénes son, cómo fueron identificados, cómo transcurren sus vidas, cuál es su misión Trad. A. Pareja Rodríguez. Madrid: NeoPerson.

[English original: MacKenzie, V. (1996). Reborn in the West: The Reincarnation Masters. Marlowe & Co].

McLeod, K. (2016).  Reflections on Dzongsar Khyentse’s “How We Raise Tulkus”. Tricycle. https://tricycle.org/trikedaily/reflections-on-dzongsar-khyentses-how-we-raise-tulkus/

Thinley, K. (1980). The History of the Sixteen Karmapas of Tibet. Boulder, Colorado, EEUU: Prajna Press.

Three documentaries

Fox, J. (Director) (2011) My Reincarnation. USA: Long Shot Factory. 

https://archive.org/details/MyReincarnation2011

Mukpo, Gesar (Director) (2009). Tulku. Canada: National Film Board of Canada. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZV_8YvIbrvY

Poulin, M. & Grégoire, C. (Co-directors) (1994). Memoiries d’un autre vie / Memories of a Previous Life. Canada: Productions Thuk Kar. 

Documentary in French: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8bUq7k7CZM 

Documentary in English:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLWPUcGUQvE

Where are they nowadays?

Ary, E. (n.d.) Tenzin Tulku: Lama Tibétain réincarné en Occident.

https://www.tenzintulku.com/index.php/fr

Ary, E. (n.d.) Tenzin Tulku: Tibetan Lama Born in the West.

https://www.tenzintulku.com/index.php/en

Ary, E. (2019) Tulkou: Autobiographie d’un lama réincarné en Occident. Paris: Philippe Rey.

Derksen, R. (n.d.) Ruben Derksen. https://www.facebook.com/ruben.derksen/about

International Dzogchen Community Gakyil (2020). How can I get Transmission or Direct Introduction?

 http://dzogchencommunity.org/faqs/how-can-i-get-transmission-or-direct-introduction/

Miller, A. (2021).  Magical Emanations: The Unexpected Lives of Western Tulkus. Lion’s Roar. 

https://www.lionsroar.com/magical-emanations-the-unexpected-lives-of-western-tulkus

*This article was originally published in Buddhistdoor en Español. 

Katherine V. Masís-Iverson

The author is a retired professor from the University of Costa Rica in San José, Costa Rica, where for several years, she taught introductory philosophy courses at the School of General Studies, as well as courses on Ethics and Hindu and Buddhist thought at the School of Philosophy. Some of her work can be found at: 

https://ucr.academia.edu/KatherineMas%C3%ADsIverson

KATHERINE V. MASÍS-IVERSON

THE TULKU TRADITION

According to Tibetan Buddhism, tulkus are reincarnations of teachers, usually noted for their knowledge of Buddhist texts, their abilities in teaching the Dharma, and their skills in meditative practices. Leaving aside discussions regarding the concept of anatman or anatta (non-soul), Tibetan Buddhism establishes a distinction between the automatic rebirth of the citta santana, or mental flow from one life to another, and the deliberate reincarnation chosen by a master in a life prior to the current one. Reincarnation is voluntary and specific to the tulkus, while rebirth is involuntary and typical of all the other sentient beings. In both cases, of course, karma –or the complex web of causes and effects– comes into play.

The traditional process required to identify a tulku involves several steps. The most like-minded disciples follow clues and instructions left by their deceased master as to where he would reincarnate in his next life. They search for the reincarnated child in the area where he is most likely to have been born and, once located, he is subjected to some preliminary tests that basically consist of identifying objects related to his past reincarnation, when he was a teacher. Later, a council of monks may test the boy further to make sure he is a tulku.

Before he is found, it is not unusual that a reincarnated tulku has dreams, memories or visions associated with some past life, usually the immediately previous one. The purpose of a noted master reincarnating again is to fulfil his role as a bodhisattva, a being with capacity to reach the state of nirvana thanks to his refined spiritual evolution over many lifetimes. Nevertheless, he refrains from it because he feels compassion for the pain of all sentient beings and thus returns to help them.

Once a tulku is identified, there is an enthronement ceremony that formalizes his status as a reincarnated teacher, followed by an extended period of education that takes place in a Buddhist monastery. Once his training is completed, the tulku-bodhisattva formally teaches Buddhist texts and practices such as chanting, meditation, etc. and thus he accomplishes his purpose of helping others.

The tulku tradition has been defended as a system to guarantee the continuation of the line of well-qualified Tibetan Buddhist teachers, but, at the same time, it has been questioned due to the possibility of error when identifying them. The education system for the tulkus has also been put into question, since there is a risk that they may believe themselves special and deserving of privileges, rather than servants in the Dharma.

Since the first Karmapa had a vision of his upcoming reincarnation in the late 12th century, tulkus have generally been reincarnated in Tibet or surrounding regions. There are discussions regarding who was the first tulku identified as such in the West, but the general consensus is that before the 20th century none had been identified.

Memoiries d’un autre vie / Memories of a Previous Life (2011)

The first scenes take place in Canada and introduce the parents and two sisters of Elijah Ary, whose Buddhist name would be Tenzin Sherab. Carol, Elijah’s mother, shares some dreams and memories her son had as a child, which alluded to places that he would not have been able to visit at his young age. Carol and her husband, students of Tibetan Buddhism of the Gelugpa line, mentioned Elijah’s dreams to some teachers in Montreal, who began to suspect that he might be a tulku. Eventually, these same teachers began a process of finding out who Elijah was in his previous reincarnation.

At the age of seven, Elijah was officially identified as the reincarnation of Geshe Jatse who, according to Elijah -or Tenzin Sherab in the film, was not a renowned teacher, but a “simple monk.”

When Elijah turned twelve, Carol accompanied him to Sera Jhe Monastery in southern India to begin his monastic education, which would last approximately a decade.

Past the opening scenes, the documentary follows Tenzin Sherab as a young adult in the monastery. The camera shows him eating, preparing tea, spending quality time with other monks, meditating, participating in ceremonies, and debating Buddhist texts. The camera also follows him as he searches for a Phil Collins CD in the streets of Mysore, “two hours from the monastery” and while he has fun with his family visiting a nearby beach. It is Tenzin himself who narrates his thoughts and feelings in each scene, in both the French and English versions of the documentary.

In the last minutes of the film, Tenzin Sherab says that his future is in the West and he needs to return, since “the Dalai Lama once told me that I could be of great help in serving as a bridge between the ancient spiritual traditions of Tibet and modern world of the West.” This decision saddens him because it implies leaving behind the friendships built at the monastery, but Tenzin is sure of his path.

Tulku (2009)

Gesar Mukpo, director and filmmaker of the documentary Tulku, was identified as a reincarnation of a teacher as a child. Son of Chögyam Trungpa (1939-1987), who in turn was a tulku of the Kagyu line of Tibetan Buddhism, Gesar travels through the United States of America, India and Nepal, interviewing four more tulkus, all men born in North America and Europe during the 1970s and 1980s, and identified as such in their infancy.

Although Gesar was enthroned as a child, he did not receive prolonged formal monastic education. He was in a monastery in Nepal from the ages of fifteen to sixteen, and then he called his mother, British Diana Mukpo, to take him back home to the West. Although he says he “feels proud to be a tulku,” he also admits not knowing if interrupting his monastic training it was a good decision. In the last scenes of the film, we see him hug his little daughter upon returning home to Nova Scotia, Canada.

The first person Gesar interviews in the United States is Dylan Henderson, who had no monastic training. He narrates his story in a serene fashion and expresses no concern about what his role as a tulku should or could be. He leads a completely secular life as father of a family. He practices diving, which, for him, is a form of meditation.

The second interviewee, also in the United States, is Ashoka Mukpo, Gesar’s own brother. Ashoka doesn’t see himself as a teacher wearing “monk’s robes.” At the time of filming, he feels that his work in the secular world on behalf of human rights is a way of helping others and, as such, a way to practice Buddhism.

The third interviewee is Wyatt Arnold, an American who receives Tibetan monastic education in India. Wyatt claims to have had, as a child, memories of his previous reincarnation. He admits feeling confused about other people’s expectations regarding his role as tulku and about what he should do with his life in general.

Gesar travels to Nepal to interview the fourth and last tulku. The Dutchman Ruben Derksen who, like Wyatt, claims having had memories of his previous life when he was a child. Having lived in Nepal and Bhutan, Ruben describes behaviours that he calls “non-Buddhist” in some monasteries: jealousy, gossip, abuse and mistreatment of children. Every year he travels to Bhutan to officiate a ceremony for the sole reason that this makes the Bhutanese who attend it “incredibly happy.” When Gesar asks him if he is still a Buddhist, Ruben answers that he is not and admits not knowing what he believes in.

*This article was originally published in Buddhistdoor en Español. 

Read part II

JUSTIN WHITAKER

The second edition of the Buddhist Film Festival of Catalonia (Festival de Cine Budista de Catalunya, FCBC) has been officially announced by the Catalan Coordinator of Buddhist Entities (Coordinadora Catalana d’Entitats Budistes, CCEB) and the Dharma-Gaia Foundation (Fundación Dharma-Gaia, FDG). The festival, which successfully debuted in 2022, will again be held at the Verdi cinema in Barcelona, Spain, offering an enlightening cinematic experience from 23–27 October 2024.

The FCBC, a collaborative venture between the CCEB and the FDG, brings together a selection of recent or unreleased Buddhist films and documentaries, continuing its mission to acquaint the Catalan public with the core values and principles of Buddhism. These values include non-violence, compassion, interconnectedness, and environmental protection.

A notable feature of this year’s event is the all-female leadership team. Montse Castellà, representing the CCEB, and Fina Íñiguez, representing the FDG, will co-direct the 2024 festival, building on the success of the inaugural festival. Their approach for this edition remains unchanged in terms of format, featuring a five-day non-competitive festival showcasing eight recently produced films. The festival will also include double features and post-screening discussions with experts in the field.

While next year’s festival retains aspects of previous successful film festivals, it also brings fresh perspectives on the Buddhist philosophy of life, aimed at further propagating the seeds of wisdom to a broader national and international audience.

In a translated interview provided to BDG, Fina Íñiguez, one of the co-directors, expressed her expectations for this year’s festival, saying: “We aspire not only to repeat the success of the first edition but also to increase it. Our goal is to share the wisdom of Buddhism with an even wider audience and provide a platform for meaningful discussions.” (Buddhistdoor en Español)

When asked about the role of Buddhism in today’s world, Íñiguez commented: “Non-violence, meditation to achieve peace of mind, and respect for all beings and the environment, are possibly some of the values and practices most linked to Buddhism in general. But impermanence is perhaps one of the most important concepts that Buddhism has contributed to the understanding of reality, along with the idea that nothing exists independently.” (Buddhistdoor en Español)

The festival’s film selection focuses on movies that authentically convey the spiritual values of Buddhism, transcending monastic settings. Diversity across different Buddhist traditions and gender parity in the films are among the key criteria during the selection process.

Montse Castellà, vice president of the CCEB and president of Sakyadhita Spain, described the message they hope to convey: “We aim to offer well-told stories that inspire both Buddhists and non-Buddhists alike. The films are carefully chosen to carry a message of Buddhist inspiration to a wide audience, Buddhist and non-Buddhist alike.” (Buddhistdoor en Español)

The Buddhist Film Festival of Catalonia remains accessible to a diverse audience, including the general public, university students, families, and individuals of all ages who may find inspiration in the Buddhist philosophy of life.

The festival’s tradition of featuring distinguished directors in the field of international Buddhist cinema will continue. The 2022 edition saw the celebrated filmmaker Doris Dörrie presenting her award-winning film Memories from Fukushima (Grüße aus Fukushima) as the guest of honor.

The event will also include a range of off-festival and parallel activities offered by the 32 Buddhist centers comprising the CCEB, representing different Buddhist traditions. These activities include meditation sessions, workshops, film forums, and talks, with the aim of enriching the overall festival experience.

In the context of global challenges such as wars, climate crises, and spiritual unrest, the teachings of Buddhism continue to offer valuable insights and tools for individuals and society at large. The second edition of the Buddhist Film Festival of Catalonia aspires to contribute to the dissemination of these teachings and to promote a more compassionate and interconnected world.

As the festival approaches, it seeks to bring people together, fostering a deeper understanding of Buddhist philosophy and inspiring positive change, both on an individual and collective level.

See more

Segunda edición del Festival de Cinema Budista de Catalunya, otoño de 2024 (Buddhistdoor en Español)

Primer Festival de Cinema Budista de Catalunya
Festival de Cinema Budista de Catalunya (Facebook)

Coordinadora Catalana d’Entitats Budistes
Fundación Dharma-Gaia

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CRAIG C LEWIS

The 18th Sakyadhita International Conference was recently held in Seoul under the theme “Living in a Precarious World: Impermanence, Resilience, Awakening.”* From 23–27 June, more than 3,000 Buddhist monastics, laywomen, guests, and dignitaries from South Korea and around the world gathered to share their experiences and research, and to provide support and encouragement for projects and initiatives to improve the lives of Buddhist women. The five-day forum provided an opportunity to touch bases with old friends from around the world, to forge new connections, to learn and to exchange ideas, to inspire and to be inspired. 

BDG was privileged to attend this unique manifestation of the sacred feminine in the contemporary Buddhism, and to meet some of the women who are working to shape the face of Buddhism today. Among the many female monastics attending this remarkable forum was Venerable Daehae Sunim, a Korean bhikshuni and Dharma master of 28 years experience who has been exploring the medium of film as a means of communicating spiritual and philosophical concepts with a larger audience. BDG sat down with Ven. Daehae Sunim on the sidelines of the conference to learn about her work as a Buddhist filmmaker.

Alongside her work as a Dharma teacher at her monastery near the South Korean city of Gyeongsan, Ven. Daehae Sunim has been writing and directing movies since 2007, with more than 90 short films to her credit, including The Last Words of Socrates and What is My True Self!, that have garnered 86 awards at international film festivals. In late 2018, she released her first feature-length film, the award-winning Sermon on the Mount, which examines some of the core philosophical questions explored by both Buddhism and Christianity, with a view to sharing a harmonized view of these ancient spiritual traditions that might help to promote happiness and peace in our troubled world.

“Originally, I was thinking about making a film on human values that might help people around the world to live more peacefully and promote religious harmony,” Ven. Daehae Sunim—also known as a film director by her lay name, Yoo Young-Uee—told BDG. “I’ve always tried base my teachings on understanding the essence of human life, but looking at current global trends, I realized that books and the written word may not be the best way to spread this message; now it’s all about movies as a medium for mass communication. So I thought it would be more helpful and more efficient to to share a message about the truth of life, the essence of human nature, with the people of the world using this movie.”

On the surface, Sermon on the Mount is a biblical film, centering on a group of eight young Christians who gather in a mysterious cave to ponder and debate the questions they have about their faith: Why is the world filled with disaster if an omnipotent God exists? What is the tree of the knowledge and the forbidden fruit? Why did God make the fruit and let people pick and eat it? Why were we born in sin for what Adam did? If God created man, why is man considered sinful and not God?

“Actually, the truth of spirituality and the essence of this human life is basically the same between all religions, no matter whether Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, and so on,” Ven. Daehae Sunim explained. “In Buddhism, we have a path to realize enlightenment through faith, understanding, and practice in real life, and onward to awakening. We believe this is a more helpful and efficient way to realize the ultimate truth of life through the process of enlightenment. In the case of Christianity, usually we understand the main purpose is to have faith in God. As such, we find Buddhism to be a more efficient teaching to recognize the true essence of human life, and this is also why I could easily understand and recognize the spiritual commonalities between Buddhism and Christianity.”

Sermon on the Mount broaches the familiar Buddhist concepts of non-self (Skt: anatman) and interdependence and interconnection (Skt: pratityasamutpada) by investigating the Christian relationship between man and God and the sense of separation that can be found there, when, in fact, God and mankind can be understood as expressions of a profound, ineffable oneness.

“Actually, we can recognize that humans, Jesus Christ, and God are all the same thing. And that’s why, similarly, if we look at the essence of human life and all phenomena, it’s all one interconnected unity,” Ven. Daehae Sunim observed.

“There is one member of the congregation at my monastery here in Korea who knows the Bible very well. And I asked him to show me where in the Bible these concepts are expressed and addressed. This is how I was able draw on the philosophical parallels between Buddhism and Christianity that form the foundation of the movie’s scenario.”

In addition to screenings at numerous international film festivals around the world and a host of awards, Sermon on the Mount has been previewed at the United Nations headquarters in New York City, in observance of World Interfaith harmony Week, and at the Salesian Pontifical University in Rome, delighting audiences, intriguing scholars, and drawing praise from Pope Francis.

“Actually, positive feedback to this film from the Buddhist community or from the Christian community does not matter,” noted Ven. Daehae Sunim. “What’s important is whether people can understand the essence of the content of this movie. Even among Christians, there are people who have difficulty understanding this movie and there are people who understand very well. For example, there was one Christian priest who told me that while he did not agree with my underlying premise, he acknowledged that the film was very well-made and presented, so he couldn’t criticize it. Likewise, among the Buddhist community, there are people who have understood the themes well and people who have had difficulty understanding. But my main intention is to underscore the commonalities between the fundamental beliefs of these two communities to help mankind in its search for meaning and peace.”

Ven. Daehae Sunim completed filming her forthcoming feature in April this year. With editing now underway, the film is expected to be ready for release very soon. Sermon on the Mount is expected to become available on Netflix in the near future.

The Sakyadhita International Association of Buddhist Women is the world’s leading body committed to transforming the lives of women in Buddhist societies, aspiring to empower and unite Buddhist women, promote their welfare, and facilitate their work for the benefit of the Dharma and all sentient beings. “Sakyadhita” means Daughter of Shakya (the clan name of the historical Buddha). Working at the grassroots level, Sakyadhita provides an international network among Buddhist women, promoting research and publications and striving to create equal opportunities for women in all Buddhist traditions.

* Daughters of the Buddha: 18th Sakyadhita Conference in Seoul Celebrates the Sacred Feminine (BDG)

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Craig C LewisCraig Lewis grew up in a transplanted Scottish family in southern England before setting off against all advice to seek light and wisdom in far-off places, rather than staying put and looking within. After repeated encounters with the Buddhadharma as a journalist in Thailand, Singapore, Hong Kong, and across Asia, he eventually found refuge as senior editor at BDG, where he reports and writes on the diversity of contemporary manifestations of the Dharma. Craig is also a keen mountain trekker and photographer, finding particular inspiration in the peoples, cultures, and Buddhist expressions of the Himalaya. In his column for BDG, “Chasing Light,” Craig seeks to document encounters, experiences, and epiphanies resulting 

ALEIX RUIZ FALQUÉS

One of the apparently most disconcerting phenomena in rich societies is the high rate of suicide. It is a very particular problem because of its taboo component and the impossibility of unravelling the real causes that may lead a person to take his or her own life. Being the decision a personal and non-transferable combination of lucid and confused reasoning. In a society that desperately seeks scientific, effective and definitive medical solutions through the control of tangible matter, the impossibility of predicting and treating spiritual or mental problems becomes a source of constant frustration. At the same time, it is impossible not to take action, and we can say that everyone is doing the best they can with the means at their disposal, like someone trying to navigate through a dense fog.

The documentary The Departure, directed by Lana Wilson, addresses the issue of suicide from the perspective of preventive therapy. Is there a formula for treating people who have suicidal thoughts? Ittetsu Nemoto, the Japanese Zen monk who is the main character in the documentary, devotes himself body and soul to visit and advice potential suicidal people. Some show obvious signs of mental imbalance, such as the man who (understandably) cannot bear to see his children only for an hour a month and feels he has failed as a father and as a person. Other patients show no signs that would distinguish them from what we would call ordinary people. However, the recurring thought of taking their own life has invaded their lives and they are helpless to face the temptation to end it once and for all. This is where the peculiar Zen monk Nemoto comes in, who receives non-stop calls and messages by mail and phone, and is available around the clock to care for people on the brink of the chasm.

In addition to visiting his “patients”, the monk Nemoto organises a regular retreat called “the departure”. This is an exercise of group meditation about death and leaving behind the most cherished things and people. It is a kind of simulation of one’s own death. The monk asks the workshop participants to write down on slips of paper the nine things they could not do without. Then he asks them to remove strips of paper until only one is left: what they would choose if they could only keep one thing. But even this tiny strip of paper has to be discarded in the end. “My mother” reads on the paper of one participant, “my memories” says another, “travelling the world” has been written by another participant. One after another they discard the last remaining piece of paper. “Now you have lost everything. This is death.”

The most remarkable thing about Nemoto’s method is its lack of system, the absence of protocol. He is driven by compassion, strictly speaking. He does not feel the pain and confusion of his patients as something alien. He is emotionally involved and committed to them. Perhaps it is true that the monk does not possess great oratory skills. In his conversations with potential suicidal patients he does not rush to give a fully articulate and rational response to the issues raised. Rather, he listens with his heart, trying to live what the suffering person is experiencing. He does not use theory or protocol first. In this sense, Nemoto is a Zen therapist and not a psychiatrist. He does not seek to judge the suicidal person; it seems that he does not even try to prevent the suicide from being committed. Nemoto himself sometimes suggests that he too often feels the urge to end it all. With this kind of quiet, casual conversation, he acts as a mirror, so that the other person can better understand the reason for his frustration and his desire to disappear.

One of the recurring topics in Master Nemoto’s teaching, which is otherwise a vague and foggy teaching, is the impossibility of giving meaning to what has no meaning in itself. When one of the girls in one of the workshops on death tells him that sometimes she would like to understand the meaning of life, the monk replies that perhaps there are certain things that do not necessarily need to have meaning: “Does a river need to have meaning?” There is a subtle difference between this remark and nihilism which would directly assert that things have no meaning. The monk neither affirms nor denies that life is meaningful or meaningless. He simply questions the approach: Does it make sense to ask about meaning? Does everything need to have a meaning? Is it necessary to be so? It seems to me that here lies the strength of Nemoto’s discourse, for it subtly points to what might be at the root of the suicidal drive: compelling life to offer something it cannot offer, and thus forcing a conflict with no possible solution. What Nemoto proposes is not a solution, but a change of approach, giving the possibility of another kind of approach to life.

Nemoto himself is at a crossroads that also reflects the dilemmas of his patients. His health is fragile due to heart problems. The stress of his job and constant concern for depressed people are taking their toll on his health and endangering his life. But at one point he states that perhaps a good life does not have to be long. A short life, but one devoted to helping others, is ultimately a good life. “Perhaps some people see it as a form of suicide,” he ponders at one point. The only thing that worries Nemoto is that his wife and young son will suffer because of him, and so it seems that in the end he decides to change his lifestyle.

In fact one of the most striking elements of this monk is that he goes to discos, he dances, gets drunk and has a family. He became a monk because he saw a newspaper advertisement for a monk to take charge of a Zen monastery. The fact that he applied for the job, however, is no coincidence, as Nemoto was going through a period of change after a very serious accident. He had abandoned his former bohemian and hedonistic life, in which he no longer found any meaning. It seems that in this case “clothes did make the monk”, and although at no point in the film is Buddhist doctrine alluded to, the way in which Nemoto embodies the virtues of compassion and generosity is really touching.

The film has a remarkable aesthetic beauty, at times a bit stark and austere, and a slow pace that leaves room for reflection on the conversations. An interesting and attractive aspect of this documentary is that it does without the format of a direct interview with the protagonist. This is probably due to the fact that the protagonist himself is, in a way, constantly interviewing other people. One does not know whether this is a work of fiction or a documentary. The structure of the story also avoids convention and it is conceived in a circular way, with an anticlimactic ending, in which we seem to be back to the beginning, although with a contradictory feeling of not knowing whether things have changed or stayed the same. A sense of timelessness that somehow symbolises this pause for reflection that Nemoto tries to offer his companions.

This is the second film of Lana Wilson, who had already co-directed with Marta Shane After Tiller (2013), a documentary about doctors who perform abortion in the United States. More recently, she directed the documentary Miss Americana (2020), about Taylor Swift. Her works denote an interest in marginal and controversial points of view, and have a clear component of social criticism. In the case of The Departure, she manages to dig into the drama of human suffering, of suicide in general (not only in Japan), and she succeeds in portraying the activity of a therapist monk in a faithful and respectful way, with a simple art full of subtlety, with an elegance and absence of pedantry worthy of the best Zen art.

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Aleix Ruiz Falqués (Barcelona, 1982) holds a BA in Classical Philology from the University of Barcelona (Spain), an MA in Sanskrit from the University of Pune (India) and a PhD in South Asian Studies (specialising in Pali) from the University of Cambridge (UK). His field of research is Buddhist literature in Pali, specifically the Burmese tradition. He is currently teaching Pali language and literature at the Shan State Buddhist University, Taunggyi (Myanmar), and also teaching Pali at the Institute of Hispanic Buddhist Studies (www.iebh.org). Together with Abraham Vélez de Cea and Ricardo Guerrero, he translated Bhikkhu Bodhi’s book En palabras del Buddha (In Buddha’s words) (Kairós, 2019) and will soon publish the book Los últimos días del Buddha: El Mahāparinibbānasutta pali con el comentario de Buddhaghosa (The Last Days of the Buddha: The Mahāparinibbānasutta pali with Buddhaghosa’s commentary) (Trotta, 2022).

*This article is part of the special edition: “Buddhism and cinema” of Buddhistdoor en Español.

LYUDMILA KLASANOVA

Geshe Ngawang Wangyal (1901–83), sometimes known as “America’s first lama,” was a Buddhist monk and scholar born in Astrakhan Province of the Russian Republic of Kalmykia. He left his home in 1923 and spent more than 30 years in Tibet and India. In 1955, Geshe Wangyal traveled to the United States, where he spent rest of his life as a key figure in the spread of Buddhism in the West. He opened the first Tibetan Dharma center in the West, trained the first generation of Tibetan Buddhist scholars in the US, and taught at Columbia University. He was a close friend of His Holiness the Dalai Lama and helped to develop the code for the CIA that aided the Dalai Lama’s departure from Tibet. 

Geshe Wangyal: With Blessing of the Three Jewels, which premiered on 16 November at the Asian World Film Festival in Los Angeles, is a newly released documentary about his life. It was written, directed, and produced by Ella Manzheeva, the first film director from Kalmykia, co-produced by Victoria Lupik and Zayana Pompaeva, with Ekaterina Orlovskaya as the director of photography.

With a dynamic script, professional cinematography, and a beautifully meditative music score composed by Anton Silaev, the documentary presents the dramatic story of the incredible worldly and spiritual journey of Geshe Wangyal. The film is a historical document of an essential episode in the modern history of Tibetan Buddhism, of the spiritual and political connections between Tibet, India, Russia, and the US, and of the dissemination of Buddhism in the West thanks to the efforts of a great teacher who planted karmic seeds in the hearts of his disciples and in his homeland Kalmykia. The film also features His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Telo Tulku Rinpoche, Robert Thurman, Jeffry Hopkins, Joe McClearly, Joshua and Diana Cutler, and many others figures from the Buddhist world.

Buddhistdoor Global had the privilege of interviewing Ella Manzheeva on the day of her film’s premier. 

Buddhistdoor Global: Hello Ella, and thank you for sharing your time with us! Can you tell us a little about who Geshe Wangyal is in the eyes of a young Kalmyk woman? 

Ella Manzheeva: In Kalmykia, the name Geshe Wangyal is unfortunately not so familiar. If you ask who Geshe Wangyal is for me, I can say that from working on this film and communicating with him through his students, he is of course a teacher for me. I never considered this film a movie project: I am a Buddhist and this was my practice. 

I went through a lot of personal transformations during the making of this film. I learned a lot about myself. Geshe Wangyal’s life is so vast and so inspiring that it can never fit into one film. I hope that somehow I was able to follow an important thread from his life—what he dedicated his life to, where his inspiration came from, and in what he strongly believed. Probably this movie is about that.

BDG: How did the idea of ​​making this film first come about? 

EM: It happened by chance. A person contacted me out of the blue and opened the door by asking if I wanted to make a film about Geshe Wangyal. Of course, I said no. This is a very complicated subject, one can see just from reading Geshe’s biography on Wikipedia, As a director I know perfectly well how everything works, and so of course I refused. After the meeting I began reading more about Geshe Wangyal. I couldn’t stop. From morning to evening, I read about him constantly through books I found that were connected with his name. A week later I called this person back and said that I wanted to talk about this topic again. 

This documentary was originally conceived as a feature film. The documentary that the audience will see now was filmed for the purpose of research in order to write a full-length script on a topic about Geshe Wangyal’s life. That was the idea. No one knew that it would take so long; it’s been five years! And now there may be no need to make a feature film. I didn’t know if I was ready for that, but I managed to get some unique interviews. Each and every person with whom Geshe Wangyal was connected and who participated in the film could have a movie made about them! Each of these people has a unique story. Of course, this was difficult for me because I wanted to tell their stories as well, especially His Holiness the Dalai Lama. 

The biggest challenge was to make sure that this did not turn into a film about His Holiness. It was very difficult to find a balance and find places for His Holiness to be included in the same timeline with the names of the other respectable people. And, at the same time, he should not be the main protagonist because that is Geshe Wangyal. There were earlier cuts in which everyone said that this was a film about the Dalai Lama, so it was difficult for me as a director to find a balance. This was not my character with whom I could do anything or edit the film as I pleased. Deciding not to edit anything, but to just follow Geshe’s life was very difficult. I deliberately made this film as an offering. It’s not my film; I’m a different person as a director and this is my small offering. 

BDG: What was the working atmosphere like among this mostly female production team?

EM: The film was made by women, that’s true. The director of photography, the producer, and co-producers were also women, as well as me. I didn’t deliberately choose women; it happened naturally. But it was probably very convenient because, first of all, there was a sense of mutual understanding between us, and second, it was technically very convenient. During the whole four months that we were shooting with the director of photography, we practically lived together 24 hours a day. We spent a month in India and a month in the US. I flew to Hong Kong to meet Gyalo Thondup, His Holiness’s brother, and we were in Kalmykia. We received help from the Kalmyk diaspora in New Jersey, South Carolina, and California. We did not travel to Tibet, but one man filmed in Tibet specifically for this film.

BDG: How do you feel today, on the day of the premiere?

EM: I am very happy. Today is a special day. When you have spent a long time making something, it feels like your are pregnant—you carry the project with you over months and years. And now it finally feels like it’s coming true. I’m very glad that today, for the first time, I will share the film with people and it will begin its own life. What people will say, whether they will like it or not, is not really my concern and not my responsibility. 

With the premiere today, I am finishing this story. I am very happy that the film will be shown for the first time in the US because this is an American story. There is not a single word in Russian. Of course, it’s very important for me to show the film in Kalmykia because very few Kalmyks know who Geshe Wangyal was. In my opinion, he is the greatest Kalmyk of the last 2,000 years. This is only my opinion, but I do not know of any other Kalmyk in history whose destiny led them to participate in the geopolitical landscape of the world, in part by chance, but also not by chance because of the incredible things Geshe Wangyal has done.

I know that this film raises a lot of questions because it is a teaser for an exploration of the whole body of Tibetan Buddhism as it developed in the 20th century, and how difficult the circumstances were after the Chinese invasion of Tibet. So this is effectively a teaser for a much larger story that cannot be told in a 90-minute documentary.

BDG: Where we can trace the results of Geshe Wangyal’s contribution?

EM: In Kalmykia. Geshe Wangyal came to America and met Diluwa Khutuktu, the previous incarnation of Telo Tulku Rinpoche. Can you imagine that Telo Tulku Rinpoche, a Kalmyk who was born in America and in his previous life was Diluwa Khutuktu, came to Geshe Wangyal and took him to see His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Then Telo Tulku Rinpoche went to India, studied in a Tibetan monastery, followed the advice of the Dalai Lama, and together they went to Kalmykia, where he became the shajin lama (supreme lama) of the Kalmyks and remained there for the next 30 years. If there were no Geshe Wangyal, perhaps the Dalai Lama would not have come at that time when Telo Tulku Rinpoche was needed.

When we requested an interview from the Dalai Lama’s secretary, the man who was supposed to give us permission said that when we finished the film and had conducted all of the interviews, then they would give us an audience. He said that the Tibetan people would never forget what Geshe Wangyal did for them. I was surprised that the Dalai Lama’s secretary already knew about Geshe Wangyal’s contribution, and I asked him why he thought like that. It turned out that as soon as His Holiness arrived in the US for the first time, at that moment all the mass media turned its attention to Tibet. Until then, only Taiwan was in focus. The situation in Tibet was scary and the attention of the international media helped to save the lives of many ordinary people.

BDG: What is the most important message of the film?

EM: The most important thing that audiences can see in this movie is Geshe’s spiritual success. If they understand Geshe Wangyal’s path, it will be a very helpful example for everyone. Geshe Wangyal once said: “Keep your motivation pure. It helps you to achieve great things.” And this is true. If something is going wrong, it means something is wrong with your motivation. There’s no need to make a big fuss to solve this problem—just sit down, meditate, and try to purify your motivation. You don’t need to go outside, but you do need to meet your ego. This is the key. If people can understand this, they will really become happier. I think this is very important. 

BDG: Thank you very much, Ella. We wish a great success for this film!

*This article was originally published in Buddhistdoor Global.

EFRAÍN VILLAMOR HERRERO

In the era of Gautama Buddha, some 2500 years ago, the concept of human rights had not yet been ratified as the standard of humanism. Just as today, many rights that we now believe to be essential were continuously violated, even unnoticed, at that time. Gautama Buddha did not create a social revolution movement. Yet he never accepted violence, nor did he accept the supremacy of any being, human or divine, and therefore, of course, much less did he accept that anyone should be discriminated because he or she was different. The documentary film that I am reviewing here, My Buddha is Punk (2015), shows with great skill and narrative audacity the despair and social anguish of Burma, a broken society, in which “Buddhist” fundamentalism has supported for years flagrant violations of human rights. The genocides committed against the Muslim minority of the Rohingya people have brought a group of young Buddhists to rise, with the aim of exposing such atrocities, but more importantly, of what they believe Buddhism truly entails. Interestingly, these young activists insist that punk is their only “Buddha”. I think it goes without saying that in Gautama Buddha’s time, punk did not exist. However, as I point out here, I very much doubt that the humanist thinking of the founder of Buddhism, his teachings and the history behind the Burmese punk movement in this documentary are unrelated.

The photographic staging of the documentary is magnificent, and although I am not a specialist in the field, I consider myself enough of a cinephile to be able to say so. The protagonist’s daily routine allows us to travel with his ideals to different Buddhist temples and hidden places in Burma. His serene expression during meditative practice contrasts with his exacerbated features throughout the scenes that chronicle the frenzy with which they hold their concerts. Their music, as well as their activism, also travels through the more rural areas of the country, with the mission of connecting with new generations and bringing them not only closer to their band, but also to their principles. The intense gaze of his protagonist, Kyaw Kyaw, thus appeals to reshape Burmese society by fusing punk music with his interpretation of Buddhist teachings.

Synopsis of this documentary

The story of this filmography features the Burmese activist, Kyaw Kyaw, lead singer of the Burmese rock-punk band. They are known as The Rebel Riot. Their intention is clear: to rebel against the established system and, through their music, to highlight the human rights violations in their country. Their motivation involves their interpretation of Buddhism, which aims to dissociate itself from the rigid relationship that this religion maintains with the high political spheres and the most deeply rooted traditions of their culture. The story is told from the point of view of these young people, who question the true meaning of Buddhism, expressing through punk the values they consider truly universal.

The new generations represented in the documentary grew up in the age of Burmese dictatorship. Perhaps because of this, they seem to find in punk a channel for their personal quest. They identify with this style of music and promote it as the spirit of the liberation movement that they themselves perceive as the authentic Buddhist message. According to public interviews given by the band’s leader, the Burmese punk movement, as an urban phenomenon, emerged in the 1990s. In 2007, protests led by certain sections of monks, known as the “Saffron Revolution”, led to the punk phenomenon becoming a symbol of resistance, Kyaw Kyaw says. The humanist, democratic and Buddhist principles of their society are challenged by this group of reformers. Among the daily idiosyncrasies of the Burmese capital, Rangoon, the bold punk outfits contrast with the more conservative costumes of the people on the streets. The scepticism towards individual freedoms in their country arises as part of the rebelliousness that these young people want to convey, not only from the ethnocentric vision most deeply rooted in their society, but precisely because they consider that this is far from the essence of the Buddhist message. Modern versus traditional does not clash in this story as part of a generational struggle, but rather, it originates from a search for spiritual peace, based on social activism. Together with the members of his band, Kyaw Kyaw tries to raise awareness among the people of his homeland about the lack of democratic tools in their society, but above all about the constant violation of human rights resulting from the military dictatorship backed by the staunchest Buddhist orthodoxy.

Why does this story need to be told? 

Support for obstinate hate speech from certain Buddhist-monastic sectors in Burma, against much more than just the social reputation of the Rohingya, supported the campaign of ethnic genocide carried out primarily by the country’s military forces. According to the director of this documentary, Andreas Hartmann, his purpose in filming this documentary was to reveal the troubled history of Burma, a country which, in 2011, after more than fifty years stained by the blood of a tenacious dictatorship, continues to suffer from the violation of human rights. According to data provided by the non-governmental organisation devoted to the research, defence and promotion of human rights, Human Rights Watch, the ethnic minority of the Rohingya has suffered discrimination and relentless repression for decades in Burma. The Rohingya are an ethnic minority of Bengali Muslim origin, most of whom do not have national recognition (in 1982 the Burmese Civil Act denied their nationality). As stateless people, they have suffered persecution, execution and discrimination for many years. The genocides of their ethnic group by the Burmese military in recent years have gained international media interest, although the conflict does not seem to have been fully resolved.

According to the organisation, approximately one million Rohingya are estimated to be crammed into camps in Bangladesh, where the vast majority of them took refuge following war crimes committed against their ethnicity in Burma in August 2017. Approximately 600,000 of these people have been belittled for their ethnicity, being confined in different concentration camps across the country. This misfortune is not alien to fundamentalist orthodoxy, the political doctrine that claims to be “Buddhism”. At the heart of the plot of this documentary is precisely a reflection on the true Buddhist message. Its story reflects on whether fundamentalism could in fact be considered authentic “Buddhism”.

From a Buddhist philosophical point of view

I do not know any Burmese monk personally. I know that Buddhism has been established for centuries as their religious backbone, and that, as is the case in the vast majority of Southeast Asian countries, its main strand is ascribed to Theravāda Buddhism. However, because of my specialisation and training in the subject, as well as the fact that I know quite some people, I am aware that “clothes do not make the man”, not even in the Buddhist context. Gautama Buddha’s ontological analysis was precisely this, that what really matters is what is inside the heart. From the point of view of Buddhist philosophy, how can we read the message of this film? Well, although we don’t need to be a spoiler, since answering this question does not require an exquisite knowledge of Buddhist teachings, I would like to briefly outline here some points for your consideration.

If the mental process (saṅkhāra) of harbouring hatred or rejection (dosa) (without even pausing to discuss that it might be justified towards a certain type of ethnicity) were useful in reversing (paṭiloma) the causes of suffering (dukkha), Gautama Buddha would have reflected this in his teachings. Instead, he, who advocated compassion and empathy for all sentient beings, professed precisely the opposite message. 

In this world, never does hatred cease hatred.
It is getting rid of hatred [that extinguishes the flame of hatred]: this law is universal.
na hi verena verāni sammantīdha kudācanaṃ
averena ca sammanti esa dhammo sanantano (Dhammapada 5)

As we can infer from the contextual analysis of these famous verses, social inequality, the shedding of innocent blood, as well as the suffering of other beings (whatever their nature), were issues that concerned Gautama Buddha. Although in his time nationalist thinking had not yet developed in the same way as in contemporary history, the devastation arising from the war between different kingdoms shares ethnocentric ideas with the Burmese conflict addressed in the documentary. Beyond the Buddhist apologetic discourse, from an academic point of view (I dare say, precisely because of what concerns me), Gautama Buddha’s teachings historically promoted the practice of the four “refuge in Brahma”, which are nothing more than different ways of expressing the most human quality: empathy. Universal love, compassion, rejoicing in the achievements of others, are the altruistic practices that he defined as restorative, first and foremost, for the practitioner, especially when performed through the perspective of equanimity (upekkhā). The activism of the punk-Buddhist band refers to the reflection (even if sometimes expressed with too much distortion on the guitar, for my personal taste) of these teachings.

The Eightfold Path (ariya aṭṭhaṅgika magga) is the basis of the Buddhist ethical message. The Middle Way, the method that Gautama Buddha coined so that everyone could attain his own liberation, involved more than mere words, doing the right thing. The right thing to do may be subject to interpretation according to the situation. This does not mean doing the right thing. Gautama Buddha never denied the (individual) conscience of the human being to discern the right thing, quite the contrary. Although Gautama Buddha and his group of followers completely renounced their social status, there is no doubt that throughout his life, he encouraged philanthropy and altruism in all its possible forms. For him, doing the right thing is always what “connects” us to the absolute truth. Kyaw Kyaw, too, does not question the individual’s ability to achieve happiness. Like Gautama Buddha, he tries to promote people’s awareness of this capacity through his social activism. Which, in my opinion, is none other than his interpretation of compassion, the exercise that Gautama Buddha emphasised helps us to detach from all that binds us to continue suffering. The Burmese punk band’s volunteer activities include Food Not Bombs, an international movement that began in the United States in the 1980s, where they distribute food to people in need. He and his punk band travel around the country’s rural areas to help those in need.

Not clinging, not even to Buddhism itself?

The renowned Chinese monk Línjì 義玄, founder of the school of Zen Buddhism that bears his name Yìxuán臨済 (in Japanese read Rinzai), left for posterity his message summed up in the phrase: “If you meet a Buddha, kill him”. This striking advice, paradoxical as it may sound, precisely advocated detachment from any kind of essentialism (a philosophical stance that Buddhism denied from the very beginning). Burmese religious fundamentalism, promoted by certain sectors that consider themselves Buddhists, seems not to be a particular trait of its people, despite the claims of the Burmese national-centrist movement. The filmography we review here, or rather the central problem from which its story arises, comes precisely from this, from the ethnocentric view of those who fear the disappearance of their traditions. To interpret phenomena statically, as if they were independent “things” (rather than interrelated processes) is far from what Gautama Buddha taught. To him, clinging to an idea (micchābhinivesa) resulted in misinterpretation (micchādiṭṭhi), which in turn results in acting (micchākammanta) in a biased way (micchāgahaṇa). Those who do so (micchācārī) guide their mind (micchāpaṇihita) in the wrong direction, which leads to continued suffering. The eagerness (micchāvāyāma) and thoughts (micchāsaṅkappa) that may be shown in whatever is done in this direction, which, we emphasise, attaches us to suffering, are the trigger of a false life (micchājīva). Some of the oldest passages of the Buddhist canon ascribed to the Theravāda school record as direct teachings of Gautama Buddha the following:

Recognising that this is suffering, when these experiences, when you realise that these phenomena are false (mosa), then the very moment you are in contact with them, the contact fades away and you understand their nature (dhamma). A self-respecting monk, [is the one who] without hunger, eradicates his sensations and becomes free (parinibbuto).

Etaṃ “dukkhan” ti ñatvāna mosadhammaṃ palokinaṃ phussa phussa vayaṃ passaṃ evaṃ tattha virajjati, vedanānaṃ khayā bhikkhu nicchāto parinibbuto ti (Suttanipāta 739)

Being aware of this danger, that “the flame of attachment” gives rise to suffering, a monk should act consciously, acting free from attachment, not clinging [to anything].

Etam ādīnavaṃ ñatvā taṇhā dukkhassa sambhavaṃ vītataṇho anādāno sato bhikkhu paribbaje ti. (Suttanipāta 741)

In these passages, among the oldest known in the Buddhist canon, the idea seems clear. Attachment and hunger are two metaphors that go beyond material possessions; let us not forget that, in the Buddhist monastic context, they are meaningless. So what is being referred to here? Basically to discard any kind of idea, in other words to get rid of ethnocentrism. The denial of an individual entity (anattā), exercising compassion and altruism towards all beings, as well as many other Buddhist teachings, are nothing but an appeal to this very same thing. If we want to be even more specific and elaborate the argument, we will say that, in this way the cognitive process (based on our consciousness’s craving for stimuli) can be deconstructed. That which we regard as real, when we hold on to what we experience, is it merely the product of the interdependence between matter and consciousness, which keeps us within the existence (saṃsāra). Deconstructing the empirical process is the goal of Buddhist practice. If you meditate, but hurt others, you are not a Buddhist. If you are punk, but help others (you are also helping yourself, hence the idea that altruism is liberating), you are truly Buddhist. Being a Buddhist is not about wearing a specific robe, but about behaving in the right way. Rightness does not imply a specific behaviour, it depends on the situation. What is not relative is the direction it has to take to be identified as right. The goal is always the same, to counteract the effects of what produces suffering.

From the perspective of the punk band leader, certain sectors of his country’s main religious tradition had tolerated, on the basis of essentialism, firstly, that the political systematisation of religion resulted in it being detached from its original altruistic message, but above all that this resulted in something that further contradicts its conciliatory message: hatred and its greatest exponent, violence. The fundamentalism generated by religious orthodoxy is not unique to Burma. Strong links with the political sector of the Buddhist community in other Southeast Asian countries have led to nationalist ideas being endorsed under the pretext of not allowing their beliefs to be undermined. The conversation that the leader of the Burmese punk group Kyaw Kyaw has in the garage with other followers of his movement shows the root of the disagreement. Kyaw Kyaw points out that to understand and implement the Buddhist message in an integral way, what you really need is “to change oneself, from the heart”. The young man calls for something beyond what has been established in his country as Buddhism. His quest for spiritual freedom is more than remarkable. His channel is punk, to him, his “Buddha”.

Final thoughts

I am convinced that Gautama Buddha would not have liked punk music very much. In fact, I am not even sure that, if he had listened to it, he would have considered it “music”, as such. Well, this is perhaps an excessively subjective opinion of the author. Still, what I have no doubt is that Gautama Buddha would not have completely disapproved of the implicit intention of the message: “Punk is my Buddha”. For all lovers of humanism, the modern history of Burma, but especially how certain people have overcome adversity and fought to defend the Truth, a visit to the press archive as well as a deep personal reflection is certainly worthwhile.

Recommended reading related to the documentary

https://www.nytimes.com/es/2019/07/11/espanol/birmania-budismo-musulmanes.html

https://www.punkethics.com/rebel-riot-interview/

https://www.sandrahoyn.de/portfolio/the-punk-of-burma/ 

https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2017/09/saffron-revolution-good-monk-myth/541116/

Dhammika Herath. (2020) Constructing Buddhists in Sri Lanka and Myanmar: Imaginary of a Historically Victimised Community. Asian Studies Review 44:2, pages 315-334.

McCarthy, Stephen (2008). «Losing My Religion? Protest and Political Legitimacy in Burma», Griffith Asia Institute Regional Outlook Paper, No. 18.

Steinberg, D. (2008). Globalization, Dissent, and Orthodoxy: Burma/Myanmar and the Saffron Revolution. Georgetown Journal of International Affairs, 9(2), 51–58. 

http://www.jstor.org/stable/43133778

Efraín Villamor Herrero (Bilbao, 1986) Degree in Japanese philology and Japanology (2012-2016) from Yamaguchi Prefectural University (Japan). PhD, University of Salamanca (2020-2023). His main fields of study are Indian Buddhism and its influence on Japanese thought. In his doctoral thesis he has analysed differentjātaka stories that were transmitted to medieval Japanese literature. He is a member of the Erasia Humanismo Research Group (Spain), the Society for the Study of Pali and Buddhist Culture and Japanese Association of Indian and Buddhist Studies (Japan).

* This article was originally published in Dharma-Gaia Foundation.