Sunday, April 22, 2007

Buddhism: a recipe for social action

The suffering of the world today demands action. But often enough, far too often, our action increases suffering because we lack understanding.

The story that always comes to mind for me is of the Peace Corps project to bring reliable water to a small village in Africa. By all western measures the project was a success: a well had been dug, a hand pump installed, a filtration system implemented. But for the villagers, especially the women, it was a disaster. Before this, you see, the women would walk together every morning to get water from a river a ways off. On this journey they would talk, share stories, solve problems, and comfort one another. After returning home the women worked separately, silently, under the watch of husbands or other men in this extremely patriarchal society. Now, without that journey, the lives of these women were entirely alone. The wisdom they had shared on those walks was lost, and village life deteriorated.

More recently I read of a small group of indigenous people in the jungles of northern Thailand. They have lived for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years in a small area through subsistence farming, which required 'slash and burn' clearing of small parts of the jungle every couple of years, and small scale hunting. Now, thanks to the influence of western NGOs, Thailand is making their land "National Forest" and outlawing their ways of life.

So before we act, we need understanding. We need to empty ourselves of notions of how it is supposed to be. From there we can look at the world anew, just soak it up. And from there also we are able to respond without preconditions, without prejudices.

Zen teacher Philip Kapleau notes Eric Fromm's realization (in The Art of Loving) that in the West we are driven to action, senselessly, without a clear understanding of motivations. We praise 'achievers' equally based on their production, we don't look to who acts selflessly, who acts out of fear or desire or hatred. We just look at the product. And as such we are each reduced to a product in our own way.

Meditate on the question "Who am I?" and you'll see these social labels, heaped up on you, holding you down, boxing you in. Let the meditation turn to all those things that you rely upon just to exist; begin to feel the connections stretching 'you' out across the world and time - breaking free of social labels and expectations. This is the place from which to begin acting, where the barriers between 'self' and 'other' have fallen away and your hands flow out naturally to help all beings, just as your hand would remove a thorn from your own foot...

2 comments:

Tom said...

There is wisdom in your words. But as I sit here, minutes ago an argument I was in ended [Or, was suspended, I should say. The threads of it will be picked up, again.], and I find it is exceedingly difficult to know what to do.

There is tension, both in my life example and in the examples in your post, between doing what the other person thinks he needs and in what you think is best for him.

Of course, you want people to have their autonomy and must defer to what others think make them happy, even if it makes little sense to you.

And it is impossible to guarantee success in a future you might design for someone else, even as you feel you near-absolutely know it is the best course.

These problems arise geopolitically and in our small lives: Tensions between our best-meant do-gooder actions and the seeming stubborness of others whose views are foreign and beliefs are strange.

Buddhist_philosopher said...

Tom - so sometimes our foot refuses to give up the thorn? Indeed success is never guaranteed, for anything.

On the one hand you could be stubborn yourself, out of compassion - my parents have used this strategy often on me and my siblings. It doesn't encourage good feelings right away, but it does engender respect when we see the correctness of their words/actions.

But even a parent must be humble in assessing what is the right course for a child. Part of that humility is allowing a child to make the mistake for him/herself - or, surprise, being correct all along.

In either case, though, is the commitment of a lifetime of sharing, a deep inter-connection. We should approach all of our relationships like this, knowing that many times people will fade out of contact, perhaps forever, but never losing the truth of the connection we have with them.

Both of the geopolitical examples I gave are of distant 'parental' figures making decisions on behalf of a group that they did not understand, did not have a connection with. If I remember correctly, the Peace Corps has since changed their whole approach, to being far more humble, letting communities rather than 1st world bureaucrats decide projects, and maintaining long-term connections even after the project is 'finished'.

That is the change we need in our relationships and social action. We can't just 'fix' things or people and then walk away to 'fix' someone/thing else. We need to slow down, take in the complexity of each person/problem slowly, and commit to slow, peaceful, dialectical change.