Ambedkarite Buddhists

The inner and outer life of
Ambedkarite Buddhists

by Sean Hillman
Religion Department
University of Toronto
February 2008

In the introduction to “Action Dharma” Christopher Queen investigates engaged Buddhism, and traces a move from the altruism traditionally found in its long history to its modern manifestation where he highlights activism as a unique development. Queen brings to light an age-old debate concerning the relationship between the inner and outer aspects of a Buddhist’s practice on the path to enlightenment. The former we might call ‘private’ or ‘individual,’ and the latter we might call ‘social’ or ‘interactive.’ Do they help or hinder each other? Queen attempts to give an example of those who view the inner practice as an interference with the outer. Specifically, it is suggested that the Ambedkarite Buddhists of India, former Untouchables (Hindi: Dalit) in the Hindu caste system before their conversion, are wary of the inner practice of special insight meditation (Skt: Vipasyana, Tib: Lhak-Tong) for fear that the production of more even-mindedness will degrade their outer practice of activism against social oppression.

It sounds so very convincing when Queen portrays the Ambedkarite Buddhists, a convenient term not preferred by this community, as hesitant to enrol in Goenka’s Vipassana courses. It is, however, an untruth. At least as a generalisation which includes the entire group throughout the country, it is not the case. Gujuratis in and around Amedhabad are most devoted to this practice. In fact, it is proudly their main practice! At the behest of a British Gujurati Ambedkarite Buddhist leader from Valor, a small town close to the capital, I spent some time with this community in their private homes. A fully-ordained Tibetan Buddhist monastic at the time, I was absolutely struck by, and full of admiration for, their devotion to the Three Jewels. They embraced me as a member of the Sangha without question, even though most of the teachers that visit them are Theravadin (Ambedkar himself relied on the Pali Canon) and I was a blatant Mahayanist, wearing the burgundy robes that H.H. the Dalai Lama also wears. A monk by any other robe colour is still a monk! They constantly take the time to recite the refuge and lay precepts formulae in Pali. They carried my luggage, watched me eat and replaced a dish as soon as it was nearing empty, and prostrated with their head at my feet. Such veneration is in part customary in traditional Theravadin Buddhist communities in particular and Indian interaction in general, as elders are treated with the same respect. As a white foreigner (Tib: Inji) from a theistic culture depending on the kindness of others but belonging to a poor refugee tradition, I was a monk looked at askance whether on the streets of downtown Toronto, on the debating ground in Dharamsala or circumambulting the Mahabodhi Temple. Such respect was unfamiliar and unsettling. Yet I rejoiced in the merit accumulated by their attitude and behaviour. Queen duly recognises their religious fervour. He also mentions their activism to ensure equal status. I noticed, however, that the main thing they wanted to impress upon me was the high (not equal) status achieved by members of their community. Perhaps such a slant was due to my host being a leader with British citizenship, considered a higher achievement than anything attained within the confines of India. Although Queen notes their inner and outer practices, devotion and activism, he wrongly pinpoints the true area of avoidance in their practice. They thoroughly embrace meditation, but steer clear of teachings: written or oral. Not only was the local ‘monastery’ empty of Sangha (it operated as a guest-house and served as a sign of the low rate of ordinations from the Ambekarite Buddhist community), the library was empty of any canonical texts. The only books were those written by their revered founder, Dr. Babasahib Ambedkar. I was saddened and reminded that one of the signs of the gradual disappearance of the Dharma is the loss of scripture, which is not much worse than libraries full of dusty scriptures that nobody can read. I hoped that perhaps they received the Dharma orally. As is traditional from the time of the Buddha, I was regularly asked to give a short Dharma talk after the main meal, however it was apparent that the translator was distorting my words and I noticed that upon hearing about karma the listeners seemed to quickly disengage. Perhaps this is from a misunderstanding of karma as fixed, a necessary premise for the caste system to exist and understandably scary to former Dalits. Also, minutes later, I would be stopped just as I found the comfortable flow of discourse. For a Tibetan Buddhist used to teachings going on and on for days and weeks at a time, this was like merely nibbling an appetizer. My host openly bemoaned the lack of Dharma available to his family and community. I presented him with a rough plan to bring teachers and texts to his community. Somehow, between one day and the next, he had forgotten that his community needed help and politely informed me that they would be fine without help. The community’s resistance to certain ideas, and to change, was evident. Their devotion to Buddhism, shown in their embrace of meditation, refuge and precept-keeping, and in their veneration for Sangha, was inspiring. Their gratitude for their founder, who helped free them from ostracism, is at times worshipful (akin to the Lama worship found in the Vajrayana, for better or for worse) but obviously energising for their group.

To shore up the reality of this activist group simultaneously practicing inner exercises, and to defeat Queen’s inappropriate example, one can say that equanimity that develops equal concern for all beings: close, far and neutral, and those of low and high status, makes it easier to engage in actually getting involved in helping others, in social action, because one is more effective. Without extreme attachment and aversion one can see that everyone needs help and deserves respect and compassion, even the oppressor. The oppressor especially so, because unlike the oppressed who are burning off bad karma by suffering the results of past actions, the oppressor is creating new causes for future pain. Those that have experienced oppression, such as the Dalits, naturally develop a feeling of not wanting to experience it, and it is perhaps easier to develop the wish that no one else will suffer similarly. One might also develop the feeling that one has an obligation to do whatever is in their power to ensure this.