パーリ学仏教文化学 (3) - 008書評・FITZGERALD. T.「Theravada Buddhism ： A Social History from Ancient Benares to Modern Colombo, by Richard Gombrich (RKP, 1988).」

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Theravada

Bzaddhism:

A

Social

History

fronz

Ancient

Benares

to

Modern

Colombo,

by

Richard

Gombrich

(RKP,

1988).

Te

FITZGERALD･

Theravada

Buddhism

is,

from

every

_point

of view, a

large

subject;

yet

in

not much more

than

200

pages

Professor

Gombrich

has

written a

Iucid

account.

He

achieves

this

by

focussing

on

three

major _events

in

the

history

_of

Buddhism

-

the

Buddha's

founcling

of

the

Sangha;

the

migration of

Buddhism

to

Ceylon;

and

the

emergence

in

Ceylon

of

Buddhist

modernism as a reaction

to

19th

_century

colenialism.These

focal

_points

help

to

_give

the

book

a manageable

structure;

it

is

a

fine

_piece

of compression, and

the

text

is

informat-ive

and elegant.

The

author cornbines

textual

analysis wiht

his

considerable

field-work experience.

Not

only

is

he

a scholar of

Pali

and

Sanskrit,

but

he

is

also well-known

for

his

earlier anthropological study ef

Buddhism

in

Ceylon,

PrecePt

and

Practice:

Traditional

Buddhism

in

the

Rztral

Highlands

of

Ceylon,

_(Clarendon

Press,

_Oxford,

_1971).

It

is

funclamental

to

the

methoclology _of

his

_new

book

_that

it

is

_a

social

history.

He

is

interested

in

the

identity

of normative

Buddhism.

not as an abstract

doctrine,

but

as _a

doctrine

institutionalised

in

concrete social and

_political

contexts.

These

_{contexts changed,}

108

.(3.:-V-\"-za.."X.-pt.i-trrf}1

between

the

doctrinal

identity

of

Theravada

Buddhism

and

its

diiferent

institutional

circumstances?

lr

METHODOMGICAL

PRESUPPOSITIONSe

The

author's

thesis

is

an

important

one, and

it

challenges on

almost every

_point

a recently

_published

account of

the

_{nature of}

normative

Buddhism

(1).

Though

his

theoretical

_{presuppositions}

are

only

briefly

discussed

in

the

introduction,

his

analysis

iS

consistently

related

to

them

throughout

the

text.

In

most respects

these

appear

to

be

unchanged since

PrecePt

and

Practice,

and

in

both

books

he

acknowledges

his

debt

to

the

_philosopher

Sir

Karl

Popper.

Tlte

four

main

theoretical

concepts

he

uses are me.thodological

individualism,

the

rationality

principle,

unintended consequences, and

the

distinction

between

soteriology and communal religion.

These

concepts are

intended

to

clarify

the

nature, and

the

_possibility,

of religlous and

social change, with which

he

is

mainly concerned.

Fundamentally

the

author assumes

that

"the subjects and agents of

human

history

are

individuals,

not collective

impersonal

_or

superper-sonal

forcest････････"(p.15).

Individuals

act with

intentions,

and

these

actions are usually aimed at selving some

_problem.

The

typlcal

problems

for

which rellgious

doctrines

attempt a solution are

those

of suffering and evil.

Actions

are rational

if

they

seem

to

_provide

a

solution

to

the

_problem

situation,

_given

certain

beliefs

about

the

s]tuation.

Within

the

constraints ef

tradition

and

Ianguage,

there

is

sometimes

genuine

innovation;

individuals

(such

as

the

Buddha)

have

new

ideas.

Individuals,

and

ideas,

have

a

degree

of autonemy, and cannot

be

<l

:-">T'heravada

Buddhisrn

109

economic

forces.

If

the

new

ideas

are cogent,

then

people

may

turn

to

them

and accept

them;

in

which case

their

behaviour

may change

in

accordance with

them.

The

"new

ideas

will seem cogent and may

_gain

a¢ ceptance

if

they

seem

tD

_offer solutions

better

than

those

already available''

(pll).

However,

the

cogency

of

the

new

dectrine

is

not sufficient

in

itself,

because

the

appropriate social and

_political

conditions

for

its

acceptance, and

thus

its

survival, must also

be

_present.

Thus

doctrines

depend

on,

but

are not reducible

to,

material contingencies.

In

particular,

"most

religions which

have

flourished

have

done

so not

merely

through

the

cogency of

their

ideas

but

because

at sorne

point

they

have

attracted

_powerful

_patronage"

(p.10).Though

the

major reason

for

the

success

of

Buddhism

has

been

"the

power

and

beauty

of

its

thought",

it

nevertheless

depended

in

Ceylon

on

the

patronage

of

the

king

to

survive

the

challenge of other

ideologies

such as

Islam

and

Hindu

devotionalism

(p151).

Once

llew

ideas

suck as

those

of

Buddha

have

become

institution-alised

in

society

then

they

_generate

consequences, not all of which

were

intended

by

the

individual

who

first

promulgated

them.

The

author

_gives

several examples of

the

unintended consequences which

arose as a result of

the

Sangha's

necessary adaptation

to

its

sociai

and

_political

environments.

For

instance,

Gombrich

shows

how,

para-doxically,

the

asceticism and renunciation of

the

monk could

increase

the

_possibiiity

of corruption

(p.

96).

Other

examples of unintended consequences

have

been

the

use

of

_property

by

_proxy;

control of

lay

labour

on a

large

scale;

the

denial

of siaves admission

to

the

Sangha;

and

the

development

of a

11O

tR-VS}!{L.#JSC(ic*.

points

out

the

apparant contradiction

between,

en

the

one

hand

the

Buddha's

emphasis on self-reliance, and

his

discouragement

o'f

depen-dence

on

him

as a

_personality;

and

_yet,

on

the

other

hand,

the

deve-lopment

of

_{pi'lgrirnages,}

the

veneration of relics, and

the

taking

of

refuge

in

the

Three

Jewels

of which

the

Buddha

is

the

principle

object of

devotion.

As

he

_puts

it:

"･･･the stark contradiction

between

`having no refuge

but

yourselves'

and `taking refuge

in

the

Three

Jewels'

is

striking.

It

seems

hard

to

argue

that

Buddhist

lay

religiosity as we

know

it

was

just

what

he

(the

Buddha)

intended"

(p.

119).

2.

THE

PRIORITY

OF

DOCTRINE.

It

is

the

author's

thesis

that

Buddhist

ldentity

is

clefined

by

its

doctrine,

or at

least

by

the

way

doctrine

has

been

consistently

interpyeted

by

the

Sangha.

The

doctrinal

identity

of

Buddhism

has

remained constant, at

least

until

the

modern era and

the

rise of

Buddhist

modernism.

In

the

face

of

this

essential

doctrinal

continuity,

however,

these

various unintended consequences

have

arisen

because

of

the

social and

_political

demands

made on

the

Sangha.

This

adaptation, and

the

contradictions

it

has

engendered, appears

to

have

been

rather

great,

and strains

the

reader's

belief

in

doctrinal

continuity

-

or rather,

the

significance of such continuity, assuming

it

exists.

How

far

does

a

doctrine

have

to

be

contradicted,

before

one accepts

that,

for

practical

intents

and

_purposes,

it

has

ceased

to

be

an aut/onomous

determinant

of

behaviour?

Perhaps

caste

becomes

an

issue

in

this

context.

In

Precept

and

Practice,

_(197].),

Professor

Gombrich

showed

the

extent

to

which

the

<ge.-3!Pi>1]heravada

Budclhisrn

₁₁₁

in

Ceylon

is

divided

into

Mfea-yas,

but

this

division

is

not

doctrinal

but

social: "The

main

_principle

of

differentiation

between

nikayas

is

･･････caste"

_(1971,

p'310).

It

is

even

the

case

that

within a nikaya

certain monasteries

discriminate

between

which sub-castes

they

take

monks

from.

Given

the

existence of caste as a social

fact,

_presumably

the

aecomodation which

the

Sangha

was required

to

make

in

order

to

flourish

in

that

society could

fairly

be

described

as an unintended

consequence.

And

the

"shame"

that

the

monks experienee

(1971,

p.306)

merely

illustrates

that

they

do

not

_practice

what

they

preach.

This

invasion

of

the

Sangha

by

caste

hierarchy

appears

to

be

a

Sinhalese

tradition:

"The

traditional

identification

of

the

Sangha

with

the

ese establishment

is

encapsulated

in

the

refusal

by

the

Sangha's

headquarters,

in

the

Iate

18th

century,

to

ordaln anyone not of

the

top

caste"

(1988,

_pi75).

The

answer

to

the

_question

about

doctrinal

autonomyis

that

the

monks

themselves

recognise

the

contradiction.

To

be

a

Buddhist

is

to

accept

the

ideology

and, as a consequence,

to

_put

it

into

_practice.

If,

however,

the

_practice

is

at variance with

the

doctrine,

as

in

the

example of caste allegiance within

the

SaRgha,

then

the

_practice

can

be

shown

to

be

wrong

-

even

though

it

has

itself

become

insti-tutionalised.

Presumably,

therefore,

this

recognition of contradiction

between

doctrine

and estabHshed

_practice

saves

the

alleged autonomy of

doctrine

as a

determinant

of

behaviour,

even

though

the

behaviour

in

fact

contradicts

it.

One

implication

of

this

would

be

that

belie

f

cannot

be

interpreted

merely as a symbolic representation of

the

social

112

/<-V#e-MljS(!Iict}E

actually stands

in

_opposition

to

that

order,

in

two

significant senses.

It

does

not oppose

the

_{social order}

in

the

sense

that

it

wishes

to

change

it;

Buddha

was not a social

reformer

(p.30).

But

it

is

in

opposition

to

the

world

in

the

sense

that

the

"other-worldly"

is

opposed

to

the

"this-worldly", and

that

Buddhist

_practiceis

funda-mentally about renunciation and

the

annihilation of

desire.

There

also

seems

to

be

a second sense

in

which

Buddhist

doctrine

is

in

opposition

to

society,

if

one accepts all

the

unintended consequences

which

have

apparantly

become

institutionalised

in

the

Sangha;

"Behaviour-et･･tis

now completely at variance with

doctrine"

(1971,

p,

306).

It

seems

therefore

that

Buddhist

doctrine

defines

a set of

goals,

values and actions which are

frequently

at variance with

institutiona-lised

_practices.

But

the

contradictions are recognised

and

admitted;

and

this

in

a sense

demonstrates

its

relative autonomy. such

that

it

would

be

to

miss

the

essence _of

the

religion

if

one

interpreted

it

as merely an

ideological

representation of

the

status

_quo.

3.

BUDDHISM

AS

A

PURE

SOTERIOLeGY.

As

such

it

is

typical

of

the

kind

of religious

_phenomena

which

the

author categorises as soteriology.

Buddhism

is

a "pure soteriology"

(p.

29);

that

is,

a system of

ideas

or

beliefs

which

_provides

a solution

te

the

_question

"what

must

I

do

to

be

saved?"

Gombrich

contrasts a

seteriology such as

Buddhism

with communal religion

(2>.

This

distinction

is

_particularly

uesful

in

the

context of

Indian

religion,

though

it

may

have

wider cross-cultural validity.

By

communal religion

he

means

vmEl.tA";sc)>Theravada

Buddhism

113

(as)a

kind

oiC

inchoate

sociological _{awareness･･･i･･t--primarily}

it

is

a

_pattern

of action･･････The commenest name

for

the

patt-erned action which religion

_prescribes

is

ritual,

but

it

shades

over into etiquette and

hygiene.

The

_problem

_{which such}

religion

_primarily

answers

is

the

ordering ef society･･･-o･"

(p.

25/6).

In

other words, communal _religion

is

_the

_traditional

_{socio--ritual}

order or "orthopraxy", usually mediated

by

_priests.

It

is

_this-worldly

religion, concerned with

the

_perpetuation

of

the

rituai and social

order according

to

traditional

_{prescriptions.}

_This

_kind

_{of religion}

_is

prescribed

/for

the

individual

from

the

cradle

to

the

_grave,

and

constitutes

the

norms of

his

social

identity.

Ilt

contrast soteriology

is

other-worldly, and concerned _vLrith

_the

salvation _of

the

individual

rather

than

the

_perpetuation

_of

the

of

the

_group.

It

tends

to

take

the

from

of a

_path

(marga)

_or

spiritual

discipline

chosen

by

the

individual;

thls

_path

is

underpinned

by

a

doctrine,

which also

distinguishes

it

from

_alternative

_paths.

Typica]ly,

a soteriology

is

an example of religious

individualism,

because

committing oneself

to

it

tends

to

be

a matter of

indiviclual

choice, and

it

is

centred on

the

fate

_of

_the

individual.

This

_contrasts

it

with communal religion,

in

which

the

member of

thel'community

ls

immersed

from

the

cradle

to

the

_grave,

and which

_provides

the

member with

his

social

identitv.

"

This

distinction

between

soteriology and _{communal religion}

is

intended

as a

heuristic

device

for

_{analysing religion;}

it

is

_not

_meant

_to

imply

that,

in

reality,

there

exists such a neat and

tidy

distinction.

However,

it

does

correspond

to

distinctions

made within

both

Hindu

114

it--V+V-Mtwkitif-V

of

things

which,

for

instance,

Hinduism

and

Buddhism

have

been

traditionally.

Hinduism

is

a vague

general

term

which

includes

both

kinds

of religion

-

on

the

one

hand,

the

hierarchical

ritual order

mediated

by

Brahmin

_priests

and

Iow

caste ritual speciallsts; Gn

the

other

hand,

sectarian salvation religions most

petently

symbolised

by

the

sannyasin.

Whereas

the

former

is

/fundamentally about

dharma,

the

transcendental

order as

it

is

(or

should

be)

manifested

in

this

world,

the

iatter

is

about moksha, release of

the

individual

soul

from

this

world and

its

unity with

God

or

Brahman.

In

contrast

to

the

_general

term

Hinduism,

Theravada

Buddhism

is

a

_pure

soteriology which,

in

Ceylon,

has

developed

only a minimal

communal aspect.

As

such,

it

can co-exist with

the

various

forms

of

communal religion

'found

in

South

East

Asia.

In

Ceylon,

the

communal

religion

has

traditionally

been

a mixture of

local

spirit cults and

Hindu-influenced

elements

(4).

Since

these

analytically

distinct

forms

of religion are centred on

different

concerns,

then

it

is

likely

that

some

_people

vLrill

_practise

both,

each

in

a

different

context.

An

example

_given

by

Gombrich

is

that,

as a soterielogy,

Buddhism

has

been

traditionaliy

more concerned with

death

than

with

fertility,

and

has

not

_provided

a wedding service

for

most

of

its

history.

There

was

therefore

nb

incongruity

for

a

Sinhalese

lay

follov

£rer ef

the

Buddhist

_path

having

a

Hindu-type

wedding

(p.

28,

_p.

145).Perhaps

this

would

be

comparable

to

a

high-caste

Hindu

havinga

Brahmin

wedding and also

being

a sectarian

fellower

of a

_particular

"marga"

-

_say

_Krishna

_{devotionalism}

or

Advaita

Vedanta.

The

/former

is

a

celebration of

the

central

_{group-oriented,}

this-worldly

fertility

ritual;

the

latter

draws

the

individual

away

from

the

world

into

renunciation.

'

<-ifpt>Theravada

Buddh;'sm

115

Buddhisin,

as

traditionally

understood, are not mutually exclusive

entities of

tho.

same

type;

they

are

different

kinds

of

_phenomena

which are _{not essentially}

in

competition with each other.

(This

does

not rule out

the

_possibility

that

an

influential

"nee-Vedantin"

ideology

within

Hinduism,

er,

in

the

case of

Sinhaiese

Buddhism,

an

ideology

of modernist or "Protestant"

Buddhism,

might not succeed

in

rede-fining

their

own

traditions,

such

that

in

_time

_these

_traditions

_come

to

appear as mutually exclusive.)

It

is

suggested

that

belief

has

a

difierent

status

in

these

different

kinds

of religion.

In

a soteriology,

belier'

is

_the

_primary

_determinant.

Though

a soteriology

is

enmeshed

in

complex ways

in

the

social

order

in

which

it

flourishes,

it

is

doctrinally

distinct;

as a consequence

of adherence

to

such a

doctrine

by

individuals,

_so

_it

_can

_influence

the

way

_people

behave.

This

distinguishes

it

from

corrimunal religion,

where

"the social _{allegiance appears}

_to

be

_the

_true

_determinant

_of

action and

the

yeligious

language

to

be

an obfuscation,

the

question

of orthecloxy _or orthopraxy a mere epiphenomenon"

(l988,

p.

15).

This

tou

¢

hes

on

the

cemplicated

question,

much

discussed

ln

_social

anthropology, _about･ iLhe

analytical

_primacy

of

belief

or ritual

_practice

in

religious

_phenomena.

As

far

as

I

understand

the

author,

he

is

saying something

like

this.

On

the

one

hand,

beliefs

and

doctrines

neither _{originate nor}

_persist

in

_{a social vacuum, and}

_the

_way

_they

come

to

be

interpreted

will

depend

te

a significant extent _on

the

social situation.

This

is

why

he

is

writing a social

history.

At

its

most extreme, some

beliefs

_appear

_to

be

_{merely an epiphenomenon}

116

i{ --V\･th

va

S.:

(.

t5:.

some allowance needs

to

be

given

to

the

autonomy of

beliefs,

especially where

those

belie'fs

are

fermulated

in

a soteriological

doctrine,

with a

high

degree

of

internal

consistency, which

in

some

respects

defines

itseliC

in

oppositlon

to

the

worldly order.

Only

i.f

doctrines

are

to

some

degree

autonomous, and not reducible m;ithout

remainder

to

the

status

_quo,

is

it

possible

to

explain

innovation

and

change.

Only

if

beliefs

have

some autonomy can

the

rationality

principle

be

realised, such

that

individuals

subscribe

to

a

doctrine

and

the

course of actien which

i

±

_prescribes

because

it

appears

to

them

to

be

the

most rational answer

to

the

_problems

it

addresse$.

Further-more, such autonomy

is

required

to

explain why

_people

are ahle

to

acknovLrledge contradictions

between

doctrine

and

practice,

where

such contradictions exist.

However,

this

latter

argument seems

to

falter,

as

I

suggested above,

where

there

is

widespread

instutionalised

contradiction ef

doctrine;

and all

the

cases of uninteilded consequence$ seem

to

_provide

examples of such contradiction.

I

return

to

this

point

below.

Also,

perhaps

the

author might

have

usefully said more en

how

far.the

"rationality

principle"

is

relevant,

if

at all,

to

communal religion; and

how

far

are

the

_problems,

for

which a soteriology offers a solution, centext

dependent?

Obviously,

evil, suffering and

the

meaning of

life

are

universal

prDblems.

But

why should

Buddhism

'

have

appeared

to

be

the

rational solution

to

some urban,

_property

owning merchants of ancient

India

and also

to

agricultural

Sinhalese

peasants;

but

not

to,

say,

Tamil

_peasants?

The

_question

here

is

how

far

rationalitv can

be

understood

in

terms

of a rather abstract

concept

of

human

autonomy, and

hovLr

far

is

it

a

function

of

<Xff''r).)..･Theravada

Buddhism

117

4.

TUE

D{STINCTIeN

BETWEEN

ETHICS

AND

RITVAL

One

of

the

ways

in

which

Professor

Gombrich

distinguishes

between

soteriology and communai _religion

is

that

the

former

is

_typically

concerned with ethics and

intentionality,

the

latter

with ritual.

This

concern _{with ethics rather}

than

_{ritual marks} out

Buddhism

(and

soteriologles

_generally)

as _a

forrn

_{of religious}

individualism.

As

such

Buddhism

can

be

linked

analytically with a soteriology such as

Protestant

Christianity.

_(On

the

other

hand,

the

role of

the

Sangha,

which

is

"the very core of

Buddhism"

(p.

₈₇₎

distinguishes

Buddhism

from

Protestant

Christianity,

a

_point

to

which

I

return.)

The

Buddha

re-interpeted

the

Brahminical

concept of

karma,

such

that

it

came

to

have

an ethical, universalistic meaning, rather

than

a ritualistic and contextual one.

Gombrich

_puts

it

succinctly as

follows:

"`･･the most

important

step

that

the

Buddha

took

was

to

turn

the

dactrine

of.

karman

on

its

head.

He

ethicised

it

completely, made mora}ity

intrinsic,

and so

denied

all

ological value

to

ritual and all ultimate value

to

social

tions.

In

place

of a

highly

_{particularistic}

_{view of}

duty

he

propounded

a simple and universal ethical

dualism

_{o'f right and}

wrong."

(p.66)

This

doctrine

of moral action

implies

the

_{autonomy of}

_the

individual

in

moral

judgment.

Since

_good

actions

_purify

the

inind

(according

to

the

Buddha's

teaching),

and _{since mental}

_purity

is

_a necessary

pre-requisite

for

the

realisation of nirvana,

then

within

the

set of

soteriological assumptions right action

is

based

on rational

self-interest,

rather

than

on

traditien

and ascribed social status.

In

118

i£

-VtYtltAig;SCit\

there

are clear

_parallels

to

be

drawn

with

Protestant

Christianity.

The

idea

of equality

is

also

implied

-

though

equality within

the

Sangha,

not

in

society,

in

the

Buddhist

case.

In

ancient

India

the

Sangha

was

(in

theory)

open

to

all, regardless of easte status.

Those

seeking salvation, whether untouchables or

Brahmins,

joined

an egalitarian

institution,

"an association ef self-reliant

individuals"

(p.89);

in

doing

so,

they

renounced society and

_politics.

The

idea

of

equality, which

flows

from,

or at

Ieast

is

strongly

linked

with,

the

doctrine

of a rational ethics,

is

another elear

_parallel

with

Protestant

Christianity.

The

important

difference

is

that,

whereas

Protestant

Christians

sought salvation

through

work within

the

world,

Buddhism

has

taught

salvation

through

renunciation of

the

world.

Whereas

Protestant

Christianity

can

be

connected

historically

and

ideolegi-cally with

the

development

of a

theery

of

democracy,

Budclha

accepted

social

inequality.

Equality

was

(doctrinally)

"rithin

the

Sangha,

which

was marked off

from

the

world.

5.

THE

ROLE

OF

THE

SANGHA

AND

THE

BIKKHU.

In

Gombrich's

view,

the

Sangha

has

bee

crucial

because

renunciation

of

the

vsrorld

is

fundamental

to

the

soteriological

doctrine

of

Thera-vada

Buddhism.

To

be

truly

a

Bucldhlst

viias

precis'ely

to

take

that

step and

become

a rnonk

(or

nun).

The

Sangha's

role

is

doctrinally

defined

in

these

terms,

as are

the

traditional

dual

roles of monks,

the

meditation

burden

or

the

book

(teaching)

burden.

There

has

always

been,

according

to

the

author, a sharp

distinction

between

the

Sangha,

as

the

cere of

Buddhism,

and

the

Laity.

Gombrich

goes

so

far

as

to

say

that

there

is

no

lay

traditlon

ofBuddhism

(p,s7).

<X:V>Theravada

Buddhism

119

endent of

the

Sangha;

_presumably,

because

the

bool<

_{makes many}

references

to

the

institutionalisation

of

lay

Buddhism,

eg.

_p.75).

In

support

of

this

view

he

_quotes

the

traditionalist

monk

Sumangala

who, speaking out against

the

_{modernists of}

his

day,

said

in

1904:

"By

the

laws

of

Buddha,

the

laity

form

no

_part

of religion.

The

Sangha

are

the

only

living

representatives of

Buddhism

on earth"

(p.

183).

The

author argues

that

this

doctrinal

separation of

the

Sangha

from

society

has

been

reflected

in

the

rele of

the

monk, which

even

in

its

teaching

aspect

is

only minimally

involved

in

the

aEfairs

of

the

world

(see,

for

instance,

_p.124,

_pp.147/8).

He

says

that

the

monk

has

hardly

_{ever acted as anything}

like

a

_priest

or social

pastor.

And

it

is

interesting

to

learn

that

the

full

doctrine

of

release

through

meditation and mental

detachment

was originally

not

taught

to

the

laity.

The

best

that

_a

Iay

follower

_could

hope

for

was

the

ethical

teaching;

rneditation and _{wisdem were}

_confined

to

the

monks.

The

financier

Anathapindika,

whe was

the

Buddha's

greatest

lay

patron,

only

heard

about

the

_{concept of}

detachment

when

_preached

to

by

a monk oii

his

death

bed

(p.

73)

(5>.

This

sharp

distinction

between

the

Sangha

(and

with

it

access

to

the

full

doctrine)

and

society,

contrasts

Theravada

Buddhism

with

Protestant

Christlanity.

Nevertheless,

some sociological

factors

in

the

origin of

these

doctrines

(Buddhism

at

the

time

of

the

Buddha.

Protestant

Christianity

at

the

time

of

_the

Reformation)

are

again

similar.

Protestant

Christianity

appealed

to

the

merchant classes of

16th

120

i£

-

Y

l;as...fa.

IS(ft-#-merchant middle class

in

ancient

India.

In

both

cases one

has

a

class of

_people

who are socially and,

_perhaps,

geographically

mobile

(p.78),

and who

have

to

sorne significant

extent

loosened

their

linl<s

with

the

hierarchical

social relations

in

which

the

communal

religion

is

embedded

-t

in

Europe,

Catholicism;

in

ancient

India,

Brahmanism.

Both

appealed

to

"bourgeois values"

(p.78)

such as

prudence,

diligence,

thrift,

legitimate

wealth,

the

rights of servants

and _masters, economic success.

Both

substituted ethical

for

ritual

action.

Both

criticised

the

_pretensions

of

priests.

Both

were rational

'

ideologies

which

demystified

the

world.

At

its

origins

in

ancient

India,

the

Buddha's

teaching

appealed

largely

to

an urban middle class.

Gombrich

cites

the

research of

B.

_G.

_Gokhale

into

the

composition of

the

early

Sangha

(p.55).

The

majority o'f monks and nunsTcame

from

affluent urban

families,

mostly of

Brahmin,

Kshatriya

or

Vaishya

status.

Buddhism

was

not

_primarily

a religion

for

the

down

-

trodden

and

exploited,

and

did

not represent a

_protest

against

inequality.

It

does

suggest

that

Buddhisrn

appealed

to

a middle class who,

though

continuing

to

practise

the

communal religion, were

disenchanted

with

the

socio-ritual

_pretensions

of

the

brahmins.

6.

BUDDHIST

IDENTITY

AND

CONTINUITY.

Gombrich's

account of

the

nature of early

Buddhism,

the

core

role of

the

Sangha,

the

kind

of

_people

and values

to

which

it

appealed,

does

indeed

_present

it

as a

form

of religious

individualism,

a soteriology

teaching

a rationalised ethics.

But

even

if

he

has

been

able,

through

expert

textual

analysis,

to

eull out such an

<=su>Theravada

Buddhlsm

121

an

interpretation

have

survived

tha

vicissitudes of

Buddhism's

social and

_political

career?･

It

would

be

a mistake

to

ignere

the

author's objectivity,

or

his

impressive

scholarship, and

to

attribute

his

interpretation

only

to

a western,

liberal,

Popperian

view of

human

rationality.

But

how

valid

is

his

thesis

that.

in

its

long

history･of

social and

political

adaptation, and

the

consequent

list

of

institutionalised

"un-intended

consequences",

it

has

nevertheless maintained

its

identity

more-or-less

intact?･

This

seems a

particularly

pertinent

question

when one considers

the

enormous

difference

in

context

between

its

origins

in

ancient

India

and

its

institutionalisation

in

Ceylon.

As

he

himself

_puts

it:

"･･････whereas

Buddhism

began

_with

the

_rise of an urban

merchant class,

Theravada

Buddhism

has

survived

in

virtually

-

7J

anti-thetical conditions, as

the

religion

of a

peasant

society･･････

(p.

144)･

Given

such a radical change of conditions,

to

who were

the

bourgeois

values and ratEonal ethics appealing!

According

to

Professor

Gombrich,

the

Sangha

remained

the

coreo'f

Buddhism

throughout

its

history;

yet

the

composition of

the

Sangha

in

Ceylon

must

have

been

completely

different,

the

sons and

daughters

of

Sinhalese

villagers

in

an agrarian economy

taking

the

place

of

the

well-to-do

urban merchants of ancient

India.

Furthermore,

Buddhism

entered

an

ideological

vacuum

in

Ceylon,

and

dominated

the

culture and

the

national

identity

of

the

Sinhalese

in

a rather

different

way

from

its

role

in

India,

where

it

was one of a number of

soteriolo-gical

doctrines.

Under

such

different

social and

political

conditions,

122

.g-V

C#

fl.

fi

JS(

dt\

is,

in

the

secial constraints on

the

_{meaning of}

the

doctrine,

_on

the

role

it

_played

in

the

context of

_quite

different

social relations?

And

did

the

role of

the

monks really undergo no substantial change?

Gombrich

admits

that,

in

one respect at

least,

the

role of

the

monks

did

change.

In

the

context of

Sinhalese

_peasant

society

the

monks

held

a

_place

analogous

to

the

Brahmins

(p.144).

This

_was

not

in

terms

of ritual

functien,

because

Buddhist

ethics considerably

lessened

the

importance

of ritual

practices

and values, such _as

blood-sacrifice,

_possession,

_purity

and

_pollution

taboos,

unteuchability,

the

low

status of wornen.

But

the

monks

were analogous

to

the

Brahmins

as

the

cultural and

Iiterary

specialists.

However,

this

function

apparantly nerer seriously compromised

their

soteriological

function

and status, at

least

insofar

as

that

status was

defined

by

the

doctrinal

tradition.

According

to

the

author's

thesis,

the

_only

tlme

that

_the

_character

o±

Buddhism,

as

defined

by

its

doctrine

and

bv

the

traditional

role of

the

Sangha,

has

been

substantially challenged

from

_within

Sinhalese

Buddhism,

has

been

vLrith

the

rise _of

Buddhist

_modernisrn.

Gombrich

adopts

Obeyesekere's

term

"Protestant

Buddhism"

_(p.

174)

to

describe

this

new

kind

of

Budclhism.

Here

a new

doctrine

has

developed,

one which elaims

to

be

a restoratlon of original

Buddhism

but

which

in

fact,

according

to

Gombrich,

is

a _substantive

contra-diction

of

traditional

Buddhism.

This

new

doctrine

teaches

(generally

speaking)

that

the

Sangha

is

not

the

core of

Buddhism,

and

is

unnecessary

for

salvation, which can

be

achieved

_through

_the

_practice

of meditation

by

ordinary

_people

_pursuing

their

social

lives.

This

new

doctrine

of salvation-within-the-world

_gained

_{credibility with}

<ZSi?i>.

Therav.a..q.a.

..Bgg

C.h.

.jptm..

.d

123

colonial _rule.

Gombrich

_argues

_that

_this

_neNsr

_doctrine

_has

_more

resemblance

to

the

Protestant

Christianity

of

the

19th

century

missionaries

than

_to

_the

doctrines

_of

_traditional

Buddhism.

In

Bztddhism

Transhrmed,

Gombrich

and

Obeye$ekere

have

ana-Iysed

a

third

trend

linked

to

urbani$ ation which seems

to

be

producing

a syncretism.

There

is

no space

to

discuss

thls

in

detail

here,

but

it

needs mentioning.

As

I

understand

the

author, s.vncretism

only

takes

_place

when

the

traditional

distinction

between

`true'

religion

(Buddhism)

and

this-worldly

`spirit'

religion ceases

to

be

recognised.

This

_process

would

be

facilitated

by

the

denial

of

the

authority of

the

Sangha,

plus

the

incorporation

of

Buddhism

into

what

traditionally

was characteristic of spirit religion.

If

I

unclerstand

Gombrich's

view correctly,

this

new

development

is

_quite

different

from

those

aspects of

Buddhism

which

have

traditionally

been

susceptible

to

ambiguity of

interpretation,

such as

the

Pirit

ceremony

'

(p.148),

dana,

and

transference

of merit

(p.125).

Ambiguity

of

interpretation

does

_pot

constitute

syncretism where

the

authority

of

the

Sangha

and

the

_clear

distinction

between

laufeilea

and

lokottara

is

unchallenged.

7.

SUMMARY.

To

summarise:

Gombrich's

argument

is

that

normative

Buddhism

is

a

_pure

soteriology, a rational

doctrine

of salvation which offers

a solution

to

the

probem

of suffering and

human

eviL

As

such,

it

is

a

form

of religious

individualism,

institutionalised

fundamentally

by

the

Sangha

and

by

the

role(s) of

the

monk.

The

monk's

status

is

defined

by

the

_quest

for

_personal

salvation;

he

(or

she)

l24

7R- !J

_\･ta

_vakk#

others.

Due

to

the

inherent

need

of

the

Sangha

to

survive and

prosper

as a means of salvation,

it

has

adapted

in

various ways

to

the

different

social and

_political

contexts

in

which

it

has

/functioned, _and

this

_process

_{o/f adaptation}

ha$

_given

_rise

to

various

unintended consequences.

These

unintended consequences

have

some-tines

resulted

in

contradictions

between

doctrine

and

behaviour,

such

that

the

clear

doctrinal

distinction

between

the

role of

the

Sangha

and

the

_greater

society

has

been

compromlsed.

Nevertheless,

despite

these

compromises,

the

essential soteriolegical meaning of

the

doctrine,

and

the

essential soteriological

function

o'f

the

Sangha,

has

never

been

substantially challenged'by

Buddhists

themselves

-at

least,

not tmtil

the

advent of

Buddhist

modernism.

The

doctrine,

and

the

meaning

_given

to

it,

has

remained

fundamentally

unchanged

'

for

most of

its

2,500

_year

history.

As

a soteriological

doctrine,

Buddhism

can

be

usefully

distinguished

from

communal religion.

The

status

of

belie'f

in

communal

religion,

and

the

applicability or otherwise of

the

"rationality

principle",

is

not so clearly

discussed.

But

the

_general

characteristics o'E

this

kind

of religion

is

that

it

is

_{a socio-ritual orthopraxy, concerned}

with

the

social

order

and

its

maintenance.

The

typical

religious

functionary

here

is

the

_priest

who, as ritual specialist,

is

concerned

with

life-cycle

rituals and

the

supernatural order.

In

this

communal

kind

of religion,

belief,s

have

a

less

crucial role

to

_play,

and may

even appear

to

be

merely symbolic representations of

the

social order.

One

can admire

thls

book,

and respect

its

author's

impressive

scholarship.

His

argument

is

usually

_quite

clear, and

the

various

<#st>Theravada

Buddhism

125

'

throughout

to

the

theoretical

framework

within which

he

is

working.

However,

there

are some

_problems

with

his

thesis

which

have

been

alluded

to

already and are worth summarising agaln.

These

problems

do

not rdrtte

the

argument necessarily;

but

the

autl}or

might

have

addressed

them

and confronted

them

more

definitely,

in

order

to

make

it

even more convincing.

Gombrich's

whole

thesis

hinges

on

the

supposed continuity ef

doctrine,

and

therefore

the

continuity of

the

_principles

underlying

the

organisaLLion of

the

Sangha.

But

how

far

is

this

continuity

of

doctrine

a significant reality

_given

the

following:

that

in

ancient

India

Buddhism

was one of many soteriological

(and

non-soterio-logical)

doctrines,

whereas

in

Ceylon

it

had

no rivals and uniquely

dominated

Sinhalese

culture;

that

in

ancient

India

the

doctrine

appealed

intitially

to

affluent urban

_{property-owning}

trading

families,

yet

it

became

institutionalised

in

a

_peasant,

agrarian econorny with

no middle-class

(until

the

modern era);

that

in

India

the

role of

the

monk. as exemplar of salvation, was more akin

to

the

Sannyasin,

and

was

in

contrast

to

Brahminical

religion, whereas

in

Ceylon

the

monks

took

on some

functions

analogou$

to

the

Brahmins;

that

the

original

Sangha

was

internally

democratic

and appealed

to

`bo-urgeois values', and

yet

the

Sangha

in

Ceylon

has

actually

been

structured _on caste

lines;

that

the

Sangha

was

intencled

to

be

open

to

all,

_yet

slaves

have

been

denied

admission;

that

the

Sangha

renounced

_property

because

it

was _considered

irrelevant

or even

an obstacle

to

salvation,

yet

it

owned

land

and controlled

lay

labour;

that

doctrine

taught

self-reliance and aimed at

demystifying

the

world,

yet

Buddha-puja,

pilgrimages

and

the

veneration of relics

126

A-vt"i-,"igiscItiie:

Presumably,

Professor

Gombrich's

answer

to

ail

this

is,

_yes.

these

contradictions

to

the

doctrine

a]l exist _or

have

existed

(he

himself

has

enumerated

them)

but

that

it

is

_precisely

because

they

are

i'ecognised as contradictiens

by

Buddhists

themselves

that

it

is

meaningful

to

identify

normative

Buddhism

in

terms

_of i.'his

doctrine.

Nevertheless,

the

fairly

agnostic reader may wonder

how

far

this

mterpretation

depends

on acknowledged cen"L'radictions

by

the

Buddhists,

and

how

far

on

the

requirements of

the

_author's

_theoretlcal

.

assumptlons.

This

point

seems more acute when one considers

that

nowhere

in

hls

book

has

Gombrich

addressed

himself

_{at any}

_length

_er

in

detail

to

alternative accounts of

Buddhist

identity.

I

have

in

mind

the

almost

diametrically

opposie view of

fellow

British

anthropologist

Martin

Southwold

_(1983.

6.

).

Neither

Southvkrold

_nor

_his

_book

are

anywhere mentioned

in

the

index

or

the

bibliography.

_(Nor

incident-ly

is

S.

J.

Tambiah's

work _on

Thai

Buddhism

_{once mentioned, which}

seems

_peculiar

since

it

also _might

have

had

_some

_theoretical

relev-ance.)

Southvsrold

argued

that

salvational

doctrine

is

relatively unimportant

to

the

majority of

Buddhlsts,

including

the

monks;

that

the

preoc-cupation with

this

aspeet of

Buddhism

is

the

concern of an elitist

minority, and _/Eurther

_that

it

has

been

_exaggerated

by

_western

scholars who are

themselves

culturally

biassed

in

favour

of an

intellectuali$t

concept of

belief

and

doctrine.

Southwold

holds

_that

normative

Buddhism

should

be

defined

in

terms

_{of what}

_the

_vast

majority _of

Buddhists

value

in

their

lives,

and _not

in

terms

_of

_the

meditational _{and salvational}

_{preoccupations}

_{of an unrepresentative}

<Sst>-

Theravada Buddhism

127

Buddhism

is

_practical

ethics, such as not

killing

animals;

that

the

typical

role model of

the

rnonk

is

the

socially active

_pastor

or

priest,

not

the

menk meditating on nirvana.

Part

of

Southwold's

aim was

to

refute

Gombrich's

interpetation

of

Buddhism

in

P-recePt

and

i)･ractice

(1971).

In

a sense

Gombrich's

new

book

might

have

been

written as a rebuttal of

Southwold's

views;

but

he

doesn't

refute

Southwold

because

he

never

_grapples

with

his

argument

directly.

He

simply states

his

own argument.

At

one

Ievel

the

reader simply

feels

bewildered

that

two

British

anthropologists,

both

with extensive

field-work

in

Ceylon,

should

have

such

different

data,

for

instance

_on

the

typical

_{role of}

the

monk.

But

clearly,

the

difference

in

the

interP-retation

o/f

data

is

to

a

large

extent

the

result of

different

theoretical

assumptions; and

these

are centrally

to

do

with

the

nature o/f religious

belief

and

doctrine,

and

its

relation

to

customary

_pra

¢

tice.

Now

of course

one cannot

have

everything

in

a short

book,

and

thls

issue

is

a

_{philosophical}

and anthropological mine'field.

Southwold

strode

in

where angels

fear

to

tread.

Gombrich

is

too

much on

the

side of

the

angels, and

leaves

too

many challenges

to

his

own views

1

2,

3,4,

5,

6s

128

ig r--

Y\M

fa

ISi:kY.

FOOTNOTES

I

am

_grateiul

to

Dr.

Masakazu

Tanaka

of

Kyoto

University

and

Mr.

Masato

Fukushima

of

Tokyo

University

for

reading and commenting on

an earlier

draft

of

this

_paper;

ancl"also

to

Mr.

Shima

ef

Aichi

Gakuin

University

for

a

helpful

discussion

on

the

topic.

I

have

particularly

in

mind

Martin

Southwold,

Buddhism

in

Life

Man-chester

University

Press,

1983.

Though

Professor

Gombrich

is

writing about

Theravada

Buddhism

_primarily

from

_the

Sinhalese

_viewpoint,

his

argument

that

the

involvement

of

the

Sangha

in

_politics

has

been

_purely

contingent,

the

accident of

tlme

and

_place.

rather

than

the

necessary result

of

doetrine

(1988.

_pp.81-86)

seems

to

be

a rebuttal oftheviewsof such authors as

SJ.

Tambiah,

World

Conq"eror

and

JVbrld

Renouncer.

CUP,

1976.

(p515),

and

T.

Ling,

The

BMddha,

Temple

Smith,

London,

₁₉₈₅₎

(First

_pubL

1973).

However,

Gombtrich

does

not mention

these

authors, and

does

not eite

their

bool<s.

This

general

distinction

is

llot new

in

sociology,

the

ugh

its

origins are net

important

here.

The

idea

is

at

least

irnplicit

in

the

author's earlier work

PrecePt

and

Practice;

Traditonal

Buddhism

in

the

Rural

Highlands

of

Ceylon,

Clarendon

Press,

Oxford,

1971,

p.49,

where

he

acknowledges

Louis

Durnont's

article "World

RenunciatiDn

in

Indian

Religiens",

in

Contributons

to

Indian

Sociology,

IV,

1960.

A

similar analytical

distinction

has

been

discussed

recently

by

Richard

Burghart

in

R.

Burghart

(ed.),

Hinduism

in

Great

Briain:

the

PerPetuation

of

Religion

in

an

Alien

Cullural

Milieti.

Tavistock,

Lonclon,

1986,

p.227.

For

instance,the

Sinhalese

distinction

between

laukifea

and

lofeottara.

The

changes which are confusing this traditional

_pattern

in

conternporary

Sinhalese

seciety

have

been

exhaustively analysed

by

Gombrich

and

G.

Obeyesekere

in

their

recent

book

Buddhism

Transy'ormea,

Princeton

University

Press,

1988.

'

This

point

gives

the

Buddha's

teaching

an unexpectedly esoteric

atmos-phere;

yet

in

Buddhism

Transfbrmed

(ibid.

p.23)

the

authors say

that

Buddhism

is

not esoteric and

its

doctrines

are accessible

to

all.

Martin

Southwold,

op.cit.

But

also

the

views of

Tambiah.

Since

cornple-ting this

_paper

I

have

discovered

_(due

to the

kindness

of

Professor

Mayeda)