The horrific Navy Yard shooting a week ago has produced some discussion about the gunman’s involvement with Buddhism. The picture is yet unclear. Some friends of his say he was a devout Buddhist, while others suggest he only went to the temple in Ft. Worth to meet Thai women. The truth, as usual, is probably somewhere in the middle.
A few of the television commentators I watched the day after the incident seemed positively aghast at the thought that a Buddhist could commit such evil. One anchor on CNN questioned if the gunman was a legitimate Buddhist since Buddhism is a spiritual philosophy that advocates nonviolence. A Washington Post blog claimed that the gunman “was no Buddhist” because a “Buddhist is who Buddhism does,” which I’m not sure even makes sense.
Buddhism is not the only philosophy that preaches non-violence, and while a history of violence in Buddhism is not as extensive as in some other religions, it is there nonetheless. Still, the peaceful image Buddhism has managed to project is so pervasive that it is difficult for some to imagine that Buddhists, like anyone else, can kill.
According to the Oxford Dictionary, violence is “behavior involving physical force intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something.” When sanctioned by law, violence can be perceived as good. When unsanctioned, it is a form of evil. Yet, the behavior itself is essentially identical.
In Western religious traditions, people tend to think of good and evil as two fundamentally and diametrically opposed principles or forces in the universe. Two primary wills directed towards opposite ends. Buddhism, however, teaches that good and evil are not separate; they are entwined aspects of life.
T’ien-t’ai master Chih-i, in the Mo-ho Chih-kuan (“Great Stopping and Seeing”), says, “Good and evil have no self-nature.” In Buddhism, when we talk about self-nature (svabhava), we are referring to the ability of anything to exist on its own, separate from other things. Neither good nor evil exist from their own side as independent functions of human nature.
Further, Chih-i notes that “If one realizes that evil is not evil, that everything is One Reality, then the Way of the Buddha is realized . . .” Simply put, he means that life is not black and white. Nothing exists as either completely good or totally evil. As Neal Donner explains an essay on “Chih-i’s Meditation on Evil,” there is no real contradiction between good and evil: “Even if evil is presently in one’s mind, good will always be found somewhere within it, for every element of existence is present in every other.” Just as good and evil do not function independently, neither is subordinate to the other, they are both equally part of the whole of reality.
This is the view from the ultimate truth, which differs from that of the relative or conventional truth. In the reality of conventional human life, evil is a destructive force that must be avoided in favor of producing goodness. Yet, it is not rational to think that evil can be completely eradicated. Indeed, evil is necessary. How would we recognize what is good if evil did not exist?
The fundamental, primary aim of all beings throughout the world is toward the same end, happiness. Thieves, murderers, even terrorists, want to be happy, although their notion of happiness may differ greatly from our own. Evil is the result of false beliefs on the part of an individual who mistakenly thinks that negative actions will result in the fulfillment of the primary aim. Evil is merely a result of ignorance and the wrong belief that something is a means to happiness when it is not.
The man who killed 12 people at the Navy Yard last Monday carved two cryptic messages into the wooden stock of the shotgun he bought two days before the shooting. One of the messages read, “Better Off This Way.” This suggests that with both good and evil coexisting in his mind, mental illness, and the extreme delusion it produced, actualized his potential for evil. The gunman, impaired by post-traumatic stress disorder as a 9/11 responder, who heard “voices,” drank alcohol and played violent video games excessively, and frequently displayed angry and aggressive tendencies, became convinced that only through committing a desperate act could he find happiness. His primary aim was to liberate himself from suffering, an aim the suffering itself twisted into the act of inflicting suffering on others.
Two days following the Navy Yard shooting, Stephen Prothero, a professor in Boston University’s religion department, authored an editorial in USA Today. After citing some examples of violence in Buddhism’s past (two of which are myths), he wrote, “But it is simply not the case that Buddhism is a ‘religion of peace.’”
Prothero, who a number of times in the past has demonstrated he has little understanding of Buddhist teachings, once again fails. In my opinion, no other spiritual philosophy than Buddhism deals as systematically and comprehensively with the underlying causes and conditions that lead to violence – the mental afflictions that delude the mind and pervert behavior.
At the end of the day, it’s not about religion, good or evil, violence or non-violence. It’s about the mind and the afflictions that disturb it. In terms of the shooting itself and how to prevent incidents from this from being repeated, there are numerous discussions we should be having, not the least of which is how can we deal more effectively with mental illness.
For the longevity of all other enemies is not so enduring, beginningless, and endless as that of my enemies, the mental afflictions.
Everyone becomes favorably disposed when tended with kindness, but when these mental afflictions are honored, they bring about suffering all the more.
Shantideva, Bodhicaryavatara (“A Guide to the Bodhisattva Way of Life”) *
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* Vesna A. Wallace and B. Alan Wallace, Snow Lion Publications, 1997