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Discourse on Buddhism and Politics , with a focus on Fascism (including the Zionist variation)

In any discussion of politics and buddhism (hereinafter styled "the buddhadharma," in accord with my teacher's point that buddhism is not an "ism"), it would seem that the first question is, do they mix, and if they do, how so? This writer is of the opinion that they are inseparable, at least from the mahayana point of view. The mahayana is frequently described as the bodhisattva path, a journey we undertake for the benefit of others, to save all sentient beings. Sounds suspiciously political already, and politics is often defined as whatever happens whenever two or more people get together.

As the mahayana involves relationship with others, it clearly involves politics. What sort of politics? The kind that rises above self-interest in order to alleviate suffering. This does not preclude self-interest, because it is clear from the beginning of the path that one is unable to benefit others without benefiting oneself, that being the ineluctable nature of karma.

It seems we can rather easily get beyond those two questions, unless our definition of the buddhadharma refers to the notion that it's about "me" getting enlightened, on my own so to speak. That, however, appears to be simply a misunderstanding of the nature of things, a fundamental mistake in logic.

There is no "me". That would seem to be the fundamental, radical statement of the buddhadharma, although it simply means that all phenomena, which includes all beings, are inseparably bound together, completely inter-connected, having no self-nature of their own. So any notion that so-and-so is, was or will become enlightened is merely a figure of speech, on a level with the metaphor "God," which itself is merely a mirror image of the illusion of ego.

First, once the argument begins to get intellectual, one must make the distinction between relative and absolute truth. Otherwise, there is only hopeless confusion. Absolute truth refers to things as they are, before we react with emotion or thought. It is apparent only to what is known as pure perception, which is a quality available only to animals, infants and awakened mind. Pure perception happens all the time, in every moment of consciousness, but is immediately obscured by conditioned mind. Only through sustained meditation practice can we catch the slightest glimpse of it, and then only the trace of its having passed, its echo so to speak.

It is said to be inexpressible. That, one assumes, is why the ancient Hebrews forbade the naming of God. Language can only allude to it, like the finger pointing at the moon. Only poetry, among the language arts, tries sometimes to take a bead on absolute truth, which is why there are so few good poets. Standard theistic religious discourse discusses the absolute incessantly, but in such a ridiculous manner as to be irrelevant. And philosophy folded up its tent in the middle of the twentieth century and disappeared, so no help there.

To my mind, the greatest poet of the late 20th century was Bob Dylan, not because he had a handle on absolute truth, but because he was political, directly focused on relative truth, and unafraid to nail it again and again. I call him a great poet of samsara, alternating between the poles of passion and aggression, and doing each so beautifully. As he said, "I ain't afraid of confusion." (Otherwise, he could never have done it.

But timing is everything, and like myself, he showed up at just the right time. As it happens, we were born only a month apart, he being the older. In the late fifties, after all, people our age were suddenly freed from fear, having had the dread of The Bomb shoved down our throats from early childhood - so forcefully and constantly, and with nothing terrible happening, except perhaps crushing boredom, we just started to laugh. The crewcut Joe Friday was a paper tiger, a caricature of our parents' simplistic notion of "the truth." The politicians and generals were clearly idiots, and we were beginning to sense our power. The "squares," it appeared, were toothless and clawless, and by the early sixties, it was clear as day they were also clueless.

But we were mostly just a bunch of snot-nosed white, suburban kids who didn't know our asses from our elbows, so the writing was on the wall from the beginning. What has been largely forgotten, by those who noticed, was that along with everything else that was going on, we experienced, for three short years, the most profound spiritual awakening that has occurred in the last thousand years. By 1968, the "squares," aka ordinary, conventional people, were firmly back in control. But for that brief period of three years, they were suffering from shock and awe, alternately bemused and irritated, quite powerless to do anything, not having any idea what to make of it. They were kind of cute, for a while.

Relative truth and language are inseparable. Language developed as a means of distinguishing this from that. One can speculate that the earliest words, or sounds, expressed the basic emotions; want, don't want, not interested. As verbs, or grunts, suggesting action to others, it would take the form of go towards, run from or avoid, or don't pay it any mind. We've come a long way since then. Now there is a seemingly infinite variety of ways of saying I like, don't like, or don't care, and all the rest of it.

And politics is all words, using them to influence others in order to achieve one's desired ends. It operates exclusively in the realm of relative truth, although references to absolute truth, usually referred to in the approved manner as "God," are employed as a means to hypnotize the citizenry into believing that the speaker has a cozy relationship with absolute truth - "God" is on their side.

Politics is about power, or to put it bluntly, how one goes about getting one's way. No mystery there. But the buddhadharma is also about power, real power. The relative and absolute again. As my teacher put it, there is more power in awakened mind than in all the nuclear weapons on this planet. Was that a metaphor, or did he mean it the way we would ordinarily understand it? I think the latter.

What is the power of love? What is the power of compassion? What is the power of omniscience (seeing clearly, without distortion)? More power than any kind of bomb they can come up with, literally. It is said that to become a chakravartin (ruler of the universe), one has to become smaller than a grain of sand. Eventually, if one follows the path, "oneself" disappears, becoming indistinguishable from all, from "It," from absolute truth. Being merely a manifestation of all, in complete accord with what is, one could have no greater power. The logic is simple, if not obvious at first glance.

The tricky part comes in the play between relative and absolute, how to affect the world of appearances, or as they say, "the real world," so that the suffering of sentient beings is alleviated. A bodhisattva must employ skillful means. Generally, this is understood to mean that one studies and practices, becoming in good time a teacher, bringing others to enlightenment, thereby performing "buddha activity." But it can be understood in another sense. Thich Nhat Hanh, for example, performs buddha activity in a manner quite recognizable as political activity.

All of the great beings who have put their stamp on history, from Jesus of Nazareth to Gandhi and Martin Luther King, have said much the same thing. They have pointed out the nature of things, the oneness of the human family, the need for genuine compassion for others, but they have also struggled politically, seeing that merely to point it out is not enough.

At this point I'd like to introduce a graphic illustration of the political spectrum, taught to me by my high school history teacher. It's quite clever, brilliant as it applies to relative truth, and now that I have been fortunate enough to hear the teachings, open to an absolute truth interpretation as well.

He drew a circle on the blackboard. The "left" was counter-clockwise from due north, the "right" clockwise. So we can say that 0 degrees represents no bias either way, 270 degrees represents as far left as one can go without heading back in the other direction, and similarly for 90 degrees, the far right. So far, so good; we have what one might call the spectrum of "normal" political opinion, sitting above what one might refer to as malignant politics - more or less what could be referred to as political good and evil, relatively speaking.

There are two other rather obvious ways of graphing political leanings. Most people in western culture have an affinity for the straight line, and others would think of the normal bell curve. The problem with both of them is that they lack the subtlety, the totality, of the circle. Only recall the calligraphic representation of emptiness, the single stroke encompassing nothing whatsoever.

What about the other semi-circle, from 90 degrees to 270 degrees, where the directions approach each other? It's a curious thing, but as we approach the nadir, 180 degrees, we see that we are approaching pure political insanity, where it becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish right from left, until the very bottom, where there's no difference at all. Here we would find Hitler, Mao and Stalin in bed together, having a great old time. In what fundamental way are they different (I'm not referring here to their rhetoric)? This is the meeting place of pure fascism, always totalitarian, and it makes not the least whit of difference whether it's called right-wing fascism or left-wing fascism.

***

It's necessary to say a few words here about fascism before continuing, as it is a word much bandied about and much misunderstood. We need to emphasize the role of fascism because it is the political embodiment of samsara; it is always palpably present in the political spectrum and the struggle against it is the sine qua non of enlightened politics. The conventional definition of the word is reflected in the following:

Def: "n. extreme totalitarian right-wing nationalist movement or philosophy, as instituted in Italy (1922-1943)."

- Oxford American Desk Dictionary

Here's another example (which the wise moderators have aptly labeled 'disputed.') from www.wikipedia.org.

"The word fascism has come to mean any system of government resembling Mussolini's, that exalts nation and often race above the individual, uses violence and modern techniques of propaganda and censorship to forcibly suppress political opposition, engages in severe economic and social regimentation, and espouses nationalism and sometimes racism (ethnic nationalism)."

These definitions are at once too narrow and too broad. It is too narrow in that the authors seems to think that fascism was invented in the 20th century, in Italy and Nazi Germany. It is too narrow in that only nation and race are mentioned as the glue that binds the group together.

Elsewhere in the wiki pages devoted to fascism, the author does acknowledge that the root of the word is 'fasces.' Here's what the author of the 'fasces' page says.

"The fasces lictoriae ("bundles of the lictors") (in Italian, fascio littorio) was, in ancient Rome, a symbol of power and authority (imperium). It was carried before a magistrate, in a number corresponding to his rank, in public ceremonies and inspections. The rods were used to whip delinquents on the spot. If it included an axe, it represented the power to decapitate. It was carried by heroic soldiers (they had to have been injured in battle) during the triumphs (public celebrations held in Rome after a military conquest).

It is a sort of cylinder, made of wood branches tied together around an axe. The symbolism of the fasces is that of strength through unity. In the 1920s it became the symbol of Italian Fascism."

Another source on the web gives a similar definition:

"Fasces (laurum de fascibus)

A bundle of rods (often accompanied by an axe, which symbolized power over life-and-death) carried by Roman officials as a symbol of authority. Under the Republic, the consul or praetor when starting on an expedition took his vows on the Capitoline Hill; if acclaimed imperator by his troops he decked his fasces with laurel, and on his return deposited the wreath upon the Capitoline Hill in the place where he had made the vows as a symbol of his successful fulfillment of them."

So much for the Roman origins of the word. But they actually got it from the Etruscans, ironically enough, the former residents of the peninsula whom the Romans had exterminated (an unfortunate habit characteristic of fascist societies). In Etruscan the word referred to a sheaf of wheat, symbolizing the essential character of the people, civilized, cooperative, communal and agricultural. Just as the Nazis inverted the ancient Aryan symbol of the swastika, things become their opposite when you're not looking. As Socrates put it more generally, things are, as often as not, the opposite of what they seem.

Fascism is frequently defined these days in economic terms, as a totalitarian corporatocracy, the major private sector corporations given a status just below that of the dictatorship itself, and well above that of individuals, who in this scheme of things have essentially no rights whatsoever.

In the final analysis, words mean what people mean whan they use them. The above definitions are woefully insufficient to describe what people are expressing when they call someone a "fascist," or refer to what's going on as "fascism." They are talking about an attitude, a style of behavior, whether it's at the dinner table, in the office, or on the grand stage of national or international politics.

***

The author of what you are in the process of reading is a member of an emergent group known as jubus; i.e.; jews who have become students and practitioners of the buddhadharma. Having had to go to what was called "Hebrew School" in preparation for my bar-mitzvah, I became exposed early on to the Old Testament, which I consider my introduction to the nature and history of fascism.

It's all there in black and white, the raping and pillaging, kidnapping of women and children, murder of innocents, disregard for the humanity of others, and, of course, the misappropriation of their land. And all in God's name. After all, the Hebrews were "the Chosen People," as every fascist group believes they are. But we jews, so enamored of writing things down, managed to document the whole thing, setting a precedent for those who came after us. And therein lies a tale, perpetuated in the mythic tradition collectively known as "Abrahamic," more commonly referred to as Judaism, Christianity and Islam, the "People of the Book." And it should be noted at this point that fundamentalism is a subset of fascism - it usually manifests as religious fundamentalism, but if you know any old time Stalinists, Maoists, any Zionists, or any doctrinaire Islamists for that matter, you've experienced ideological fundamentalism.

The question arises, how can an otherwise decent bunch of folks collectively lose their minds and run amok like that? Seems to happen all the time, all over the place, from time immemorial. What really is this fascism thing, and how can world society eradicate such a primitive, savage and self-destructive phenomenon?

Everywhere we look, pretty much, it's going on. One can focus on the Middle East, or shift our eyes to the Chinese genocide attendant on their colonization of Tibet, the slaughter in the Sudan, Zimbabwe, etc., etc., or go back a hair in time, to the Serbian rampage in the Balkans, the American Indian genocide, the pogroms in Russia, the Mongol holocaust, ad infinitum. How is this possible? Seems like just about everyone I meet is basically a good person, wouldn't harm a flea But this madness, this collective insanity, takes people over. Why? And how do we stop it? The answer is simple, if not easy to implement, if we reflect that fascism is simply the collective egotism, writ large, of any group with a sense of shared identity, buddhists not excluded.

In the buddhadharma it is said that there are two veils preventing us from seeing things as they actually are, mistaken ideas about the nature of reality and confused emotions, matters of the head and the heart, respectively. At the root of this misperception is the illusion of the separation between self and other. Once we reify these notions, we become vulnerable to a whole mess of troubles, and habitual patterns like fascism become hard to resist.

If there is an "us" and a "them," "we" naturally take precedence. Throw in a dash of ignorance and a pinch of arrogance, and the witches' brew starts cooking. But it's just an illusion. In our heart of hearts we all know that we're all brothers and sisters, just one big family, unhappy and dysfunctional perhaps, but blood is thicker than wine, and there are ancient, deeply rooted taboos about offing members of the family.

If that's how the infection starts, then the next question arises, how does it spread? There's no point in pointing fingers. The Hitlers, Stalins, Mao-tse-dungs, Kim-Il Sungs, Mugabes, Milosevices, Sharons, Arafats, Dubyas and so forth, are just as much pawns in the game as anyone else. They might have a greater inclination to evil, a more compelling will to power, but they are no more aware of the origin of their hallucinations than others.

To make a long story short, it's the culture, stupid, to paraphrase Bubba. Perhaps it comes down to education. We're going to have to deal with this nonsense until the young, everywhere, are taught that "we" are the human race, and if there is an "other," SETI will find it, or not. In any case, it can't be dealt with using tanks, or by strapping on explosives, for that matter.

It should be clear by now that fascism is just group-think, in which "our" rights and privileges, our very identity and existence for that matter, takes precedence over others. This gives us the "right" to dispose of "others" as we so choose. Just as our individual "ego" strives to control and manipulate the space around us, "group ego," which is the root of fascism, attempts to do the same on a larger scale.

There is no bias here regarding left-wing fascism vs. right-wing fascism. They are essentially the same thing, based on the destructive emotions of greed, aggression, ignorance, arrogance, envy and fear. Once these toxic emotions have taken hold in a culture, inspired and manipulated by psychotics in leadership positions, they get rationalized into ideologies that support whichever flavor of fascism one chooses to consider. As Martin Luther so succinctly put it, "reason is a whore."

***

The fascist mentality has gone from individual family groups, small clans, tribes, city-states, nations and so on to more generic groupings based on all of the above, to include one's ethnic identity, color, fellow language speakers to the one that's now bedeviling us the most, religion. We're back to the religious wars, and as regards the Middle East, the center of the whirlwind in our time, it's the warring families of the good old Abrahamic traditions.

Where does that witches' brew get its yeast, its starter? Take a look at the synagogues in Brooklyn and Jerusalem and the settlements, the madrassas and mosques all over the Muslim world, and the Bible colleges, TV evangelists and little piney woods churches in the States. And where does the witches' brew get its last, finishing touches? In the White House and the hallowed halls of the US Congress, where the America First proto-fascists are now consolidating their control.

I am not implying that the powers that be are religious, except in rare cases like Iran. They merely mouth religious language to hoodwink the people. What they do believe in is power and money, and, of course, themselves, the natural elite, as they see it. For the politicians, it's about power, and as for the corporations, it's about money, the bottom line. Both views are blindly short term, the next election, the next quarter.

And, to avoid being misunderstood, I am not implying that "buddhism," as opposed to the buddhadharma, is any antidote to fascism. We need only look at the support given to the war party in Tojo's Japan by both the Rinzai and Soto Zen sects, let alone the fascist Soka Gakkai, the political wing of the Nichiren sect, to disabuse us of any such fanciful notions. And it might be wise to take an equally skeptical look at what is shaping up to be "American buddhism," which as often as not also gives me the willies.

Having briefly discussed the nature and some current manifestations of fascism, at or near 180 degrees, the bottom of the circle, we can turn back to the less harrowing, but still confused, sections of the upper semi-circle, and the polar opposite of political insanity, 0 degrees, smack dab in the middle.

Let us begin by looking at another characterization of the mahayana, as "the middle way," a translation of the Sanskrit "madhyamika." From the western political perspective, the middle way has the connotation of ambivalence, being wishy-washy or indecisive. But it means just the opposite as a dharmic term. If one understands the fundamental principle of co-dependent origination, the coming together of all causes and conditions to produce whatever happens from moment to moment, it is clear that what we perceive as reality is the exact meeting point of all opposing possibilities. The middle way, in other words, is what happens. Sanity, and sane politics, is to be in accord with that, and to adapt in an intelligent, flexible, pragmatic, commonsensical way as it changes, which it is constantly doing.

In the vajrayana an even stronger term is used, the razor's edge. The notion is that if one can walk that edge, not an easy task nor one for the squeamish, one is in perfect harmony with things as they are. If we translate that into political terms, the imperative becomes to behave in accord with the balancing act that nature, and society, is always tending towards, and to resist tendencies towards extremes that are disruptive and destructive to that constantly shifting harmony.

One could say that the normal, or relatively sane, political arena consists of the interplay between the left and right taking place in the upper semi-circle, between 90 degrees and 270 degrees. But what characterizes the left and the right, aka "liberal" and "conservative?" These are, after all, the timeless polarities that characterize all political activity, and have nothing to do with temporary "issues," or political theories or ideologies, for that matter. That same history professor had some interesting things to say about this.

As he put it, it all depends on one's fundamental view of man's nature. If one inclines towards the notion of the perfectibility of man, and society, which is the great western liberal tradition, one naturally tends towards the left, the political home of the optimist who believes in the possibility of positive social progress. Human nature, in this view, is fundamentally good. And this view gives rise to all sorts of idealistic, often utopian, visions of how things could be, if we could only get our act together.

The opposing view, generally characterized as "conservative," has a more dyspeptic take on who and what we are. This is the realm of "original sin," of "nature red in tooth and claw," and so forth. People who are inclined to this view tend to be more pessimistic about human, and political, possibilities, and generally consider themselves "realists." These folks are more concerned with material, as opposed to social, progress, as they have no illusions about such fantasies as "from each according to their ability, to each according to their need," or merely the idea of some general state of happiness or satisfaction, and they most particularly scorn any visions of a society where everyone is entitled to an equal share, and so forth.

At 90 and 270 degrees, where sanity begins to melt away entirely, but well before the whole thing becomes demonic, there are certain political philosophies that illustrate quite nicely the usefulness of this model. On the left we have the puritanical, politically correct, multiculturalist, radical feminist post-modern nanny state thing, which has shoved old-fashioned liberals into a kind of no-man's land in the northwest quadrant, near the center but not of it; slightly south by sou'west we have anarchism, and on the right, libertarianism.

Anarchism and libertarianism are mirror opposites, characterized by the fundamental differences discussed above. They share total devotion to the sanctity of ego's dominion. Individuality is supreme. The leftist version, anarchism, expresses a political fantasy based on hope and a blind faith in the natural goodness of human beings, who presumably would form functioning, orderly communities as long as they weren't bedeviled by government. This would make perfect sense if people were sane, but it may be a long while before that happens.

Libertarianism is the same, except that fear replaces hope, so that government's only legitimate responsibility is that of protecting the individual from interference by other individuals. On the other hand, these political theories are not tainted either by fascism or totalitarianism, which occupy territory further south.

The dharma would seem, at first glance, to accord with the left. After all, if there is such a thing as buddha nature, or basic goodness, then it would appear to follow that the dharma leans to the left. However, this conflicts with the observation that the dharma leans neither to the left nor to the right. It does, on the other hand, account for the fact that, at least in western democracies, the overwhelming majority of people who choose to study and practice the dharma, though not necessarily those born into it, also tend to have a liberal political orientation.

There are a number of interesting correspondences between the buddhadharma and political leanings, which go beyond the simple correlation mentioned above. These have more to do with emotional styles than anything else, but to repeat Luther's maxim that reason is a whore, such things determine a great deal more than personal preferences.

For example, we generally associate greed with the political right. After all, it's about the money, isn't it? But looked at closely, the general conservative tendency is not so much about getting more, but holding on to what one has and defending it from "them." What is more characteristic of the right is the emotion of aggression, the identification of patriotism with the notion of "my country, right or wrong," the strong identification with the military and the glorification of war, the emphasis on strength as opposed to debate or negotiation, the love of guns, and maintaining control over women.

The left is actually more closely aligned with desire, although it is generalized into the idea of spreading the wealth more equably, which can be abbreviated into the question "where's mine?" It can be characterized, or caricatured, as the political equivalent of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. Robin Hood would never win any elections in the Red states - he'd be too easily mocked as Robbing Hood.

Another easy comparison is to the feminine and masculine energies, which are essential in understanding and practicing the vajrayana. The feminine is associated with wisdom, space, emptiness, gentleness, kindness, caring and sharing, nurturing and so forth. It is easy to see how this is compatible with left wing sympathies, and accounts for the obvious identification of feminism with the left, while it is equated with the effeminate by the right.

The right, on the other hand, worships skillful means, the masculine virtues of righteousness, discipline, strength, efficiency and so forth. The wrathful, vengeful, decisive God of Abraham as opposed to the cult of the Goddess.

The point of tantra, of the vajrayana, is to bring feminine and masculine inextricably together, in perfect balance, the achievement of equanimity and one taste. This is expressed in manifold ways, from the deities in union to the inseparability of compassion and skillful means. The essential teaching, from a political point of view, is to bring our activity into balance with the nature of things.

Insofar as it is necessary to struggle, even to fight, the enemy as always is ignorance, which gives rise to discord, enmity, slavery, exploitation, deceit and violence. Merely to stand by, in a meditative state of quiescence, is not dharmic; it is merely well behaved ignorance. But, as this is the buddhadharma we are speaking of, there is no creed, no handbook or commandments to steer by and tell us what to do as political situations arise. We can only be guided by the teachings and our own experience as we understand them, always on guard against ego's self-deception, always alone.

So, what to make of the election, and what do we do now in the aftermath? It seems clear, at least to this writer, that the American political establishment, both Republican and Democratic, has decided that it is in our national self interest to establish a Pax Americana, a new empire nominally concerned with the spreading of democracy and the free market, the "pacification" of "rogues," and the rule of law as interpreted by the Imperium. The implicit agenda would appear to be to establish and maintain control of the world's natural resources, particularly petroleum as it enters a state of scarcity.

This agenda, or grand strategy, suits the Republicans far more comfortably than the Democrats, so it is really no surprise that they could sell their version more convincingly, until the utter stupidity of attacking Iraq became evident to even the most credulous. The cynic might say that they're just better liars, but I would contend that it was just easier for them because the message simply sounded more genuine and sincere coming out of Republican mouths.

The Democrats, as many have observed, found themselves reduced to imitating the right, lacking any convincing, unifying agenda of their own. That is, aside from imploring everybody to be really nice boys and girls, presenting themselves as a charming rainbow of assorted minorities pleading to be invited to the dance, getting all teary eyed over the latest disappearing gorple-breasted salamander, and appearing to be desperately pleading for everybody to "just get along." Not exactly a compelling political agenda, even against perhaps the most incompetent, cynical and outright dumb political administration this country's ever seen.

This brings us to perhaps the most radical of the correspondences, that between hope and fear. We need to continually remind ourselves that all this is transpiring in the realm of samsara. This means, among other things, that the vast majority of people are confused, one might even say insane - if we equate sanity with enlightenment we have no better way of putting it.

In the mahayana we speak of avoiding the eight worldly dharmas; hope and fear, gain and loss, victory and defeat, and lastly, praise and blame. They all amount to the same thing, the vain and futile polarities of dualistic thinking. Hope, as explained above, appeals more to the left, while fear is characteristic of the right, but they are equally samsaric.

It is instructive to observe that a well armed, ignorant coward can do a great deal of damage, before the inevitable happens and he shoots himself in the foot. And that is not a bad characterization of George W. Bush and his cronies, and seems to me to be what the US itself is beginning to resemble. Most of rest of the world already sees us that way, with good reason.

I have no particular prescription for a properly dharmic political response, but we can hardly just sit on our tailbones. I don't think that blindly following the current American leftist examples are particularly useful. There isn't space in this essay to do a proper post mortem on post-modernism, but the currently effeminate style of the left - the endless "sharing of pain," new initiatives to "help" others, special pleading to be nicer, and vain appeals to reason - serves no useful purpose. It is just grist for the right wing mill; it makes them chuckle and reach for the toe screws at the same time. To bring things back into balance, to restore harmony, will require a more robust, more masculine response, and it's about time people reminded themselves that "sticks and stones might break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

The buddhadharma is inherently revolutionary, the most subversive undermining of the conventional wisdom there has ever been or ever will be. If one accepts that, then one has to accept that we are and always will be revolutionaries, and revolution is not for the faint of heart. We share this with all of the other wisdom traditions, and all wisdom traditions are in agreement on fundamentals.

There are a number of practical steps that we as buddhists could undertake. We can form our own communities, going beyond the notion of a sangha of students and practitioners of a particular teacher. These could be very small, resembling extended families, or communes that share land and subsistence, to much larger entities embracing a mahasangha of like minded people who cooperate on a number of social, economic and political levels. The example of Shambhala International is instructive here, as it embodies the idea of a genuine society with all its manifold arrangements, institutions and cultural endeavors.

Such groupings could develop and follow standards of sustainable development, sane political norms, ways of relating with the planet to ways of relating with the larger society of which it is a part, yet which stands substantially outside of it. In terms of the latter, just as an example, there are a number of initiatives for using alternative currencies.

It is, of course, not possible to exist independently of the existing political structures, including nation states - at least not yet. As buddhists we understand that everything coexists, so we needn't repeat any of the romantic notions of the 60's and early 70's about going off the grid on some piece of land somehow magically safe and secure from the evil world, growing our own food and weaving our own cloth. On the other hand, we can be good, pragmatic buddhists, divorcing ourselves as much as possible from buying into the samsaric race to produce and consume foolishness. And there are practical ways to minimize reliance on the grid and all the rest of it, without going overboard.

We could also come out of the closet a little more, making ourselves more visible, getting more involved with our communities as buddhists. We can only teach non-students by example, and it would help if people understood where that example was coming from. We can do all of this without stretching too far.

Another thought, perhaps a bit ambitious, is to connect with, and form an alliance with, representatives of all these traditions, not just buddhists, and to do this on as broad an international scale as possible. A counter-weight to overwhelming American cultural, political and economic power must be devised. It can't be military - America possesses overwhelming military superiority and will do so for the foreseeable future. It can't be economic - that would be self-defeating for every economy that tried it. But it could be a spiritual alliance, wielding that very power we spoke of at the beginning of this essay.

And by "representatives of all these traditions" I do not mean representatives of organizations. As we all know, fully realized people are few and far between. Such an alliance would need to consist of genuine teachers, those who have accomplished their path - otherwise we would wind up with something as toothless and boring as the National Council of Churches, or some such thing. I'm speaking of warriors, those willing and able to operate in the international arena and dirty their hands with such a thing as politics.

We could start by solving the Middle East mess, which is actually quite a workable situation. (Please consult www.one-state.net/essential for details.) The solution to that problem is quite simple and merely requires the application of a dollop of wisdom (or, as I sometimes call it, transcendental common sense). And we could go on from there. Perhaps just another thought, but I don't think that time is on our side.

Roger Tucker

updated April 1, 2007

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