Abstract
Majoritarianism rarely, if ever, accompanies good governance, and Sri Lanka is a case in point. Unwilling to build on a history of pluralism, the island’s post-independence elites manipulated ethnoreligious fissures for political gain. Besides leading to a civil war that lasted nearly three decades, it has also unleashed violence on Muslims and Christians even as the island has consolidated its status as a Sinhalese Buddhist ethnocracy. The ensuing political Buddhism has compromised Buddhism and democracy and placed the country on a militarised and authoritarian trajectory.
Keywords
Were one overly loose with definitions, the person may claim Sri Lanka soon after independence represented a liberal democracy. Conditions at the time certainly smacked of this, although how quickly ethnoreligious tensions and rioting unfolded suggest that what existed was a veneer of liberal democracy. The fact remains that there are no liberal democracies in South Asia. This should not surprise for two main reasons: how democracy was introduced rather rapidly within a post-colonial setting (especially when compared to how western states gradually expanded the franchise) and hence prevented democratic norms from being sufficiently consolidated, and what it takes to qualify as a liberal democracy.
As per Larry Diamond, a liberal democracy goes beyond merely conducting competitive and inclusive elections. It also upholds civil liberties for all citizens irrespective of ethnicity and religion, ensures an independent judiciary that fearlessly enforces the rule of law, tolerates civil society, minimises corruption and balances against executive overreach (Diamond, 2019, p. 19). The democratic backsliding that even developed democracies have experienced evidence how hard it can be to maintain such high standards and how doing so among conflict-ridden polyethnic societies is especially challenging.
The world mainly consists of polyethnic societies, and such societies can be structured according to a politics of consensus or a politics of domination. A constitutional architecture influenced by pluralism that promotes ethnoreligious inclusion can go a long way towards promoting a politics of consensus. At its best, pluralism represents ‘an organized response to the presence of diversity by which every person is able to realize his or her full potential as a citizen without jettisoning distinct identities… [so that] regardless of how the state was formed and by whom, the civic foundations of the imagined community—the nation—broaden to accommodate difference’ (Global Centre for Pluralism, 2015, p. 2). In the least, a pluralist society will operate as a relatively secular society where there exists an ‘equal respect for all religions (and for those who choose not to follow any religion)’ (Aiyar, 2004, p. 5) and where religion is denied a determining role in how public policy is made and society functions (Thapar, 2013, p. 30).
Autocracies are rooted in naked domination, where people are more subjects than citizens. Autocracies vary and so do democracies. This variety and the quest to specify while differentiating regime types is why we encounter the so-called ‘democracy with adjectives’ problem (Collier & Levitsky, 1997). The terminological confusion aside, it is fair to say that in societies where elected leaders resort to a politics of consensus there is likely to be a climate of accommodation (and thereby a degree of pluralism and secularism) amidst contestation (Dahl, 1971) while a politics of domination will encourage ethnic and/or religious hegemony. In short, a culture of pluralism, even if committed to imperfectly, can promote ethnoreligious tolerance, whereas a politics rooted in domination can unleash ethnocracy.
Whatever form ethnocracy takes, it is based on privileging a particular group at the expense of others. The group concerned need not be a majority, although often ethnocracy is undergirded by majoritarianism. The sociopolitical setup in such societies is dictated by ethnic membership at the expense of individual choice (Howard, 2012, p. 155) because emphasis gets placed on group identity and those especially who do not belong to the dominant group end up having little or no connection to policies implemented. This is because in such societies belonging to a culturally dominant group takes precedence over being a citizen of the state.
Moving towards an ethnocracy represents democratic backsliding. And while democratic backsliding stemming from corruption, political competition and the authoritarian predilection of a particular leader may be reversed, it is much more difficult to move from a consolidated ethnocracy towards liberal democracy. This is because ethnocracy allows the dominant ethnoreligious group to arrogate resources and the ethnic entrepreneurs and their clients who benefit from such favouritism will fight tooth and nail to prevent their privileged socioeconomic status being compromised. For them gainful illiberalism is preferable to gainless liberalism. The instinct may be rational, but it comes at the expense of common citizenship and the rule of law, without which liberal democracy flounders.
Achieving and sustaining liberal democracy is a lofty ideal because doing so ultimately relies on combining strong states with strong societies. By ensuring a monopoly on the use of force, a strong state ensures stability. But this situation must be accompanied by a strong society as well, usually represented by civil society that organises and mobilises to ensure transparent and accountable governance. As per Acemoglu and Robinson (2019), this is a ‘narrow corridor’ wherein state and civil society coexist, which in turn ensures the rule of law and democratic accountability (Fukuyama, 2015, p. 12) that is so fundamental to liberal democracy.
Ethnocracy may allow for political participation and contestation, but it does so in illiberal fashion because it is rooted in ethnic domination and subordination. Demographics may help ensure such domination, but even here an ideology rooted in religion or mytho-history is useful. This is so in the case of Sri Lanka, where Buddhism has played a central role influencing the island’s politics.
Like Burma and Thailand, Sri Lanka stands out as a bastion of Buddhism. What distinguishes it from other Buddhist societies is a historical claim that connects Buddha to the island using a text called the Mahavamsa (Great Chronicle) that documents the island’s origins from 543 BCE, although the text appears to have been put together by Buddhist monks starting around the 6th century AD. Whatever motivated the writing of the Mahavamsa, late 19th century nationalists were able to fuse its accounts with politics and lay the groundwork for a destructive nationalism. The ensuing political Buddhism that empowered the majority Sinhalese Buddhists forced the minority Tamils specially to fight back, leading to a nearly three decade long civil war.
Thus, while political Buddhism has succeeded in ensuring the preferences of Sinhalese Buddhists, it has come at the expense of the country becoming an ethnocracy. But the ethnocracy Sinhalese elites sowed not just reaped a bloody civil war, it has pushed the country towards autocracy while tarnishing Buddhism itself. In what follows, this essay discusses the linkage between Buddhism and state formation amidst ethnoreligious strife and thereafter discusses how political Buddhism continues to undermine the island’s weakened democracy by legitimising militarisation fanned by Buddhist nationalism.
Towards Sinhalese Buddhist Supremacy
As per the last census, Sri Lanka’s population approximates 21 million, with the Sinhalese 74.9 per cent, while Sri Lankan Tamils, Indian Tamils and Muslims are 11.2 per cent, 4.1 per cent and 9.3 per cent, respectively. When it comes to religion, Buddhists are 70.1 per cent, while Hindus, Christians and Muslims are 12.6 per cent, 7.6 per cent and 9.7 per cent, respectively (Department of Census and Statistics, 1996). Most Sinhalese are Buddhist and speak the Sinhala language, while most Tamils are Hindu and speak Tamil. The British recruited Indian Tamils as indentured labourers starting around the 1830s, and they and the island’s Muslims also speak Tamil, although many among their youth now speak Sinhala as well. Muslims, however, use Islam as their primary identity since doing so effectively differentiates them from the Tamil communities. The island’s Christians consist of Sinhalese, Tamils and Burghers (the latter a diminishing Eurasian demographic), with Catholics being the largest group.
This polyethnic and multi-religious tapestry notwithstanding, there can be no gainsaying that Sri Lanka represents a special place for Buddhists and Buddhism. There is also no gainsaying that much of what counts for ancient history is constructed, and this constructed history has been deftly manipulated by opportunistic elites in their quest for power.
The Sinhalese use the Mahavamsa to claim that their ancestor, Prince Vijaya, who hailed from an area around today’s West Bengal landed in Sri Lanka around 2,500 years ago. His arrival is said to coincide with Lord Buddha’s death, thereby introducing the notion that Sri Lanka is sinhadipa (island of the Sinhalese) and dhammadipa (island containing Buddha’s teachings) and was preordained to become a sanctuary for Buddhism. That in turn has led to an ideology (which some have called Sinhalatva, perhaps in reference to next-door India’s Hindutva) that claims minorities live on the island thanks to Sinhalese Buddhist sufferance and should therefore be cognisant of their place; they should not make unnecessary demands on the state (i.e., devolution or federalism) or question the perquisites afforded Buddhism; and those who do deserve to be opposed violently if necessary (DeVotta, 2007).
Thus, former President Dingiri Banda Wijetunge could liken the Sinhalese to a tree and the minorities to the vines that cling to it. And Sarath Fonseka, when army commander, could cavalierly note that the ‘country belongs to the Sinhalese but there are minority communities and we treat them like our people…. They can live in the country with us. But they must not try to, under the pretext of being a minority, demand undue things’ (LankaNewspapers.com, 2008). Similarly, Galagoda Aththe Gnanasara, a leader of the extremist, anti-Muslim Buddhist group Bodu Bala Sena (Buddhist Power Force, BBS), has argued: ‘This is a Sinhala Buddhist country. We have a Sinhala Buddhist culture. This is not Saudi Arabia. But you must accept the culture and behave in a manner that doesn’t harm it’ (The Economist, 2013). Or as another BBS leader put it: ‘This is a Sinhala Buddhist country. Can you go to England or the US and say that they are a multi-religious country? Of course there are other communities in those countries, but they are Christian countries. It’s the same here. Other communities have been living here, but this is a Sinhala Buddhist country. You call a coconut plantation a coconut plantation. We don’t identify it by the other small plants that have grown there’ (Jayasuriya, 2013). Such comments succinctly yet profoundly capture the majority–minority relations in the island.
Even Buddhists who fervently support minorities being treated equally believe in Sri Lanka’s unique status as a repository for Buddhism (which by extension privileges those who practice the religion). The majority community’s preference for a unitary state and aversion to devolution stems from this belief. The desire to see the 13th amendment to the constitution, which set up the Provincial Council system, annulled is also dictated by this belief. In short, the vast majority of Buddhists subscribe to the notions of sinhadipa and dhammadipa even if they would not express their beliefs using the crude and vituperative Sinhala some racist monks resort to. Thus, while many Sinhalese Buddhists are chagrined by the bawdy rhetoric of such monks, most among them do not find the BBS claim that Sri Lanka is a Sinhalese country that must have a Sinhalese government serving the interests of the Sinhalese people to be at all controversial. But this mindset, in turn, precludes minorities’—especially Tamils’—legitimate grievances being accommodated, which is a prerequisite for achieving reconciliation.
The Mahavamsa refers to numerous mytho-historical events that some monks and especially ethnic entrepreneurs in the late 19th and early 20th centuries embellished and dissembled, which magnified divisions between Sinhalese and Tamils. This interpretation was unfortunate, as there is much in the Mahavamsa that could have been used to build a common identity. Many Hindu practices and beliefs have seeped into Buddhism over the years, and such syncretism too could have been effectively incorporated into an overarching identity. A recent reminder of this was when the island’s Health Minister and other politicians promoted a syrup supposedly used since the time of Ravana—among the protagonists in the Hindu epic Ramayana—that a man manufactured as per a recipe he claimed to have received from the goddess Kali to counter COVID-19 (Aljazeera, 2021).
Even the Mahavamsa could have been used to promote a common identity between Sinhalese and Tamils, given that Prince Vijaya is said to have married a queen from Madurai in South India, thus making the Tamils ‘not only kinfolk but also cofounders of the nation’ (Obeyesekere, 2006, p. 139). What was emphasised, however, was a conflict—that was most likely regional as opposed to ethnoreligious—between two monarchs who happened to be Tamil and Sinhalese. The victorious Sinhalese Buddhist King Duthugamani continues to be held in reverence and gets manipulated for politicking purposes. Thus, President Mahinda Rajapaksa, having eradicated the LTTE, was widely portrayed as a modern day Duthugamani in cutouts, posters, streamers and state media.
Tamils claim that their Dravidian ancestors, who on a clear day could see Sri Lanka from South India and who had used catamarans for millennia, were the first to cross the Palk Straits and settle the island. Some go so far as to argue that only Tamils settled the island but over time Buddhism and its Pali scriptures created an ‘ascriptive cleavage’ that linguistically divided the community into Sinhalese and Tamils (Ponnambalam, 1983, p. 20). Buy into this explanation and today’s Sinhalese were originally Tamils! But polemics aside, trade between Sri Lanka and South India even before the Mahavamsa was composed likely played a big role in populating the island (De Silva, 1997, p. 12), which is why some suggest that the Sinhalese progenitor Vijaya was likely Tamil (Wijeyeratne, 2014, p. 18).
Some Sinhalese seek to project a group identity that predates the Mahavamsa, by claiming a link to Ravana. With Ravana’s kingdom being in Lanka, incorporating him into the nation’s history provides Sinhalese a much older lineage within the island. It also makes the group co-creators of the Indian civilisation story. Similar to Hindutvadis, those linking Ravana to the Sinhalese also claim their ancestors travelled in aircraft and possessed nuclear weapons (Witharana, 2019, p. 791).
Sri Lanka’s civil war between the predominantly Sinhalese Buddhists and Tamil Hindus was mainly ethnic—and not religion—based. Religion, however, did play an important role in galvanising and legitimating the majority community’s quest for ethnic domination, given that the Sinhala language and the Sinhalese people are inextricably linked to Buddhism. Buddhist monks recorded, preserved and propagated the Buddhist scriptures in the Pali language. The transformation of Pali over the centuries is what gave birth to modern Sinhala. Buddhism is thus central to Sinhala, since one could argue: no Buddhism, no Sinhala.
The post-civil war Islamophobia in the island, however, is rooted in religion. Here extremist Buddhist monks and their followers in league with opportunistic politicians have tried to manipulate transformations within the Muslim community to claim demographics coupled with the spread of Salafi-Wahabi Islam threaten Sri Lanka and Buddhism. These transformations within the Muslim community are clearly linked to Muslims who have gone to work in the Middle East returning with austere and uncompromising religious practices and beliefs that go against the more syncretistic Islam that used to dominate South Asian states. But it is also associated with the community feeling besieged by both Tamil rebels (during the civil war) and an Islamophobic polity (that includes Sri Lankans of all religious persuasions). The 2019 Easter Sunday attacks against Christian churches and tourist hotels that killed 269 people highlighted how Salafi-Wahabi beliefs and Islamophobia within the island have combined to fan extremism among some within the Muslim polity, although investigations hitherto conducted suggest certain officials at the highest levels may have enabled the suicide bombers so as to gain politically (Francis, 2021).
Nationalism is rooted in grievances, real or imagined. While the international community has focused on Tamils’ grievances (thanks to Tamils facing the brunt of civil war violence and being systematically mistreated in the post-independence period), the Sinhalese Buddhists utilise a list of grievances as well. Thus, they point to how British perfidy during the colonial era led to Buddhism being marginalised; minorities make undue demands on the island’s Buddhists despite having ethnoreligious homelands abroad; Sinhalese Buddhists, who only can claim Sri Lanka as a homeland and are surrounded by Hindus and Muslims, are unfairly chastised for protecting their culture and interests; the Muslim population is especially rising fast, thus threatening the island’s Sinhalese Buddhist heritage; evangelical Christians are resorting to unethical conversions, thereby weakening Buddhism; modernisation and consumerism are causing a lack of spiritualism among Buddhists and the clergy and denigrating Sinhalese Buddhist culture; western powers were not adequately concerned by the terrorist threat the LTTE posed to Sinhalese Buddhist civilisation; and now these same western powers act hypocritically when criticising Sri Lanka’s conduct of the civil war (despite their own malpractices) and try to bully the island. Substitute Sri Lanka for India and Buddhism for Hinduism and one sees how Hindutva and Sinhalatva share many of the same grievances. Despite Sinhalese Buddhist nationalists being leery of Hindu nationalists in India, they appear to adopt tactics from Hindutvadis when propounding Islamophobia—albeit without acknowledging the influence. They also tend to link the Christian faith (and especially conversion to Christianity) with colonialism and imperialism, which Hindutvadis do (Sarkar, 2021, p. 173).
In this narrative, the majority Sinhalese Buddhists are victims surrounded by villains within and without the island. It disregards how successive governments changed policies to ensure Sinhalese Buddhists arrogated positions and resources within especially the state system in ways that thoroughly marginalised minorities. These policies ranged from Sinhala being made the only official language in 1956, government assisted colonisation programs that transplanted Sinhalese in predominantly Tamil areas, hiring practices that minimised or excluded minorities being recruited into the military and bureaucracy, and quota systems being introduced into the university system so Sinhalese in especially rural areas were disproportionately able to gain admittance into higher education. But the dominance of Buddhism was also constitutionalised, first in 1972 and thereafter in 1978 (when the current constitution was first adopted).
As per Sri Lanka’s constitution, the Republic ‘shall give to Buddhism the foremost place and accordingly it shall be the duty of the State to protect and foster the Buddha Sasana, while assuring to all religions the rights granted by Articles 10 and 14(1)(e)’. Article 10 states that ‘every person is entitled to freedom of thought, conscience and religion, including the freedom to have or to adopt a religion or belief of his choice’, while article 14(1)(e) promises ‘the freedom, either by himself or in association with others, and either in public or in private, to manifest his religion or belief in worship, observance, practice or teaching’.
While the constitutional text thus provides for both favoured status for Buddhism amidst religious freedom for others, the reality is that the majoritarian norms that are now embedded trump the constitutional rules guaranteeing such freedoms. This is obvious when certain ministers claim that converting Buddhists is verboten and courts rule in ways that clearly privilege Buddhism above other religions and their adherents, going so far as to suggest Buddhism alone qualifies as a protected religion.
A slight change in phraseology appears to have played a major role in the island reaching this point. Sri Lanka’s 1972 constitution said, ‘it shall be the duty of the state to protect and foster Buddhism’, but the 1978 constitution tweaked this section to say ‘it shall be the duty of the state to protect and foster the Buddha Sasana’ (sasana referring to Buddhist dispensation). Over time, this led to courts going beyond protecting the Buddhist religion and instead claiming that the Buddha sasana includes Buddha’s complete legacy, including ‘properties, shrines, statutes, temples, other material objects and geographic spaces’ (Schonthal, 2016, p. 1962). The geographic spaces concerned can range from a single village to all of Sri Lanka. If the latter justifies opposing devolution for Tamils, since Buddha’s complete legacy cannot be ensured if the country was not a unitary state, the former can be used to deny other religions a physical presence in Buddhist areas.
What has consequently transpired is a political Buddhism, which incorporates religious beliefs within an overarching and hegemonic Sinhalese culture that all are expected to defend and propagate. The rituals associated with this are seamlessly Buddhist and Sinhalese, making it futile to try and separate one from the other. In short, it is a worldview that insists a true Buddhist is Sinhalese and a true Sinhalese is Buddhist, especially when it comes to Sri Lanka. This partly stems from Sinhalese Buddhist identity combining country, language and religion and the Mahavamsa especially contributing to the idea that it is the historical destiny of Sinhalese Buddhists to strengthen ‘the land, the race and the faith’ (Wilson, 1988, p. 60). The Sri Lankan historian K.M. De Silva has noted that in Sinhala ‘the words for nation, race and people are practically synonymous’, making the notion of society being multi-racial or multi-communal a ‘meaningless abstraction’ (De Silva, 1981, p. 512). All this has influenced the island’s post-independence trajectory, with a future looking bleaker (from a democracy and ethnoreligious perspective).
Political Buddhism and Democratic Backsliding
When the Sri Lankan scholar Jeyadeva Uyangoda says that ‘Sinhalese Buddhism has made no significant contribution to the evolution of a non-violent social ideology’ and that ‘the Sinhalese Buddhist historiographical tradition and ideology inherent in it [instead] supports ethnic political violence’ (Uyangoda, 1996, p. 129), he is not criticising Buddhism. On the contrary, it is an indictment against the political Buddhism rooted in ethnonationalism that now dominates the island. It testifies to how political Buddhism has sought to restructure society based on a constructed mytho-historical past and thereby corrupted and undermined the peaceful precepts of Buddhism—and in the process also undermined democracy.
Throughout history, all major religions have been manipulated towards mundane ends and Buddhism is no different. Indeed, the religion ‘was, almost from the start, profoundly political at its very core’ (Shulman, 2018, p. 30). This was perhaps because the religion was overly dependent on alms and subventions from individuals and royal houses. This noted, political Buddhism allows the Buddhist religion to get manipulated as a means to an end, causing its basic tenets to be twisted and discredited.
Indeed, Buddhist laymen and clergy in Sri Lanka have used each other to mutual benefit by propagating political Buddhism. The monks have ensured prominence, influence and subventions while providing politicians a platform to prove their Sinhalese Buddhist credentials and loyalty to an ethnocentric state ideal—even by using Buddhism as an instrument of violence. This perhaps need not surprise, since contrary to what is preached Buddhists and Buddhism are unlikely to have always foresworn violence, because ‘a peaceful state never existed in South Asia’ (Singh, 2017, p. 245). On the contrary, Buddhism over time appears to have formulated a just-war doctrine (Bartholomeusz, 2002) and in this was no doubt influenced by just-war notions inherent in Hinduism (Clooney, 2003). The upshot is that political Buddhism has so transformed the religion that the politics associated with Buddhism has become part of religion.
Consequently, in Sri Lanka citizenship is related to faith in Buddhism. Minorities who have no faith in the religion must in the least respect its supremacy in the island. Like the Hindutva ideology in neighbouring India, political Buddhism dictates that no matter a person’s religion, all in Sri Lanka must subscribe to a Sinhalese Buddhist ethos. The slogan jathika chinthanaya (national consciousness) has been used in recent times to capture this sentiment and it is not accidental that Mahinda Rajapaksa titled his election manifesto Mahinda Chinthanaya (DeVotta, 2007, p. 27).
By emphasising that real Sri Lankans are Sinhalese Buddhists, Sinhalese Buddhist nationalists legitimating political Buddhism veer towards despotism. For the more they focus on marginalising minorities, the more they stray away from democracy; and the more they overlook calibrated attacks against minorities, the more they also move away from the rule of law.
However, while anti-Tamil, political Buddhism is not necessarily anti-Hindu. This is partly because of how elements related to Hinduism—ranging from gods and goddesses to superstitious beliefs—have impacted and gotten incorporated into everyday Buddhist practice. For instance, the last kings associated with the Kandyan Kingdom—before the British forcibly unified the island in 1815—were from South India and some of the Hindu shrines located within the royal Buddhist temples were for their Hindu queens. What this makes clear is that Sinhalese Buddhists were comfortable with Hindu kings ruling over them provided they were committed to preserving Buddhism in the country. Thus, while the occasional anti-Hindu diatribe or attack against a Hindu temple may occur, this is related to Tamils being Hindu and not due to an anti-Hindu mindset in the country.
Political Buddhism may disregard Buddhist values, but Buddhism and political Buddhism now operate in tandem. At least three major issues have contributed to this development. The first is the civil war, which threatened Sri Lanka’s status as a Buddhist preserve. Whatever it took to defeat the LTTE was justifiable, and this led to security, sovereignty and territorial integrity being privileged over Buddhist values and the rule of law. The war created a violent society that many a Buddhist monk legitimated, with some monks disrobing themselves to join the military and others accompanying soldiers to the war zone to bless them and strengthen their resolve. Since the war ended, areas associated with the conflict have become pilgrimage sites with new Buddhist temples being built near military camps in mainly Tamil areas. These pilgrimages incorporate visits to the former war zone and include guided military tours of LTTE sites. Besides reinforcing appreciation for the military, it links political Buddhism to the eradication of terrorism and ongoing militarisation.
Impunity among monks is a second major reason that has contributed to political Buddhism. Irrespective of the status of a temple and the reputation of its clergy, no one dares openly disrespect a monk in Sri Lanka because the sangha (monastic community) is one of the Triple Gems of Buddhism (the other two being the Buddha and the dharma [Buddha’s teachings]). This has allowed some monks to act without fear of being arrested and charged, with Galagoda Aththe Gnansara Thera, the Secretary General of Bodu Bala Sena, which fanned anti-Muslim violence post-civil war, being a prime example. Many a Buddhist in Sri Lanka would privately excoriate monks for bad behaviour, but they eschew doing so in public. State authorities also avoid speaking ill of monks and those who may occasionally do so get branded traitors or anti-national.
This has both positive and negative effects. For instance, recently many monks have been in the forefront criticising the Gotabaya Rajapaksa government’s handling of the economy amidst the spread of COVID-19. Many are associated with civil society organisations. Given the antagonistic posture the government adopts towards civil society, the involvement of monks allows organisations to operate more assertively amidst a degree of protection. On the other hand, many monks can fan violence. While violence has mainly taken place within an ethnoreligious setting, it is common to see monks resorting to unruly behaviour over mundane matters as well.
This partly contributes to the crisis facing Buddhism, which is the third major reason that has led to the religion operating in tandem with political Buddhism. The crisis primarily stems from there not being a hierarchy within Buddhism (in the country or within the religion globally) and the incapacity, consequently, to regulate the behaviour of the sangha.
Sri Lanka has three Buddhsit sects (nikayas). The Amarapura sect (founded in 1802) and Ramanna sect (founded in 1863) came together in 2019, which likely make the Amarapura-Ramanna group larger than the oldest Siam sect. The Siam sect was founded in 1753 and is divided into two chapters, the Malwatte and Asgiriya that take turns overseeing the Temple of the Tooth. The vast majority of Sri Lankans are unaware which chapter runs the temple at a given time, but the Temple of the Tooth receives the most government patronage. This is due to the tooth relic of the Buddha being housed there, the role its monks played resisting colonialism and reintroducing rites associated with higher ordination (upasampada), and high-caste Sri Lankan rulers favouring the high-caste Siam sect.
As per a statement released by the Religious Affairs Ministry in 2014, Sri Lanka had nearly 10,000 Buddhist temples. It appears over 6,000 of these come under the Siam sect, which is associated with the Govigama upper castes. There is no hierarchy dictating affairs within the sects, although a chief monk will oversee other monks in a temple. Every district in Sri Lanka has prominent temples and the chief monks in these temples also command influence in their areas. Some may enjoy national prominence based on their ability to preach, political links and knowledge of the religion. The numerous monks at various universities holding PhDs in Pali and Buddhist Studies relate to the latter category. Some temples are prominent and especially sacred because they are associated with Buddha’s three visits to the island or because they are linked to consequential rulers who fought to preserve Buddhism. Others are prominent because they are linked to famous monks or are associated with leading families. Almost every village also has a temple that might operate as a social hub by enabling meetings associated with funerals, development programs, fund raising for school projects and micro lending and the monks associated with these temples operate as leading stakeholders in the villages.
Thus, Buddhism can be integrated in varied ways in people’s lives and at the local level monks can also influence how people vote, which Mahinda Rajapaksa used to good effect when strategising his family’s political comeback following his presidential defeat in January 2015. That noted, the fact remains that chief monk of temples especially operate as a law unto themselves without a hierarchy to oversee their activities. And their disreputable activities—ranging from the abuse of samenaras (novice monks), womanising, entrepreneurial activities and temple corruption—compromise the religion. Such activities no doubt go back in time, making the Buddhist clergy no different from wayward clergy of other faiths. But in a country that has linked its raison dêtre to Buddhism, such behaviour sullies the image of ‘the land, the race and the faith’.
Indeed, today many monks enter the sangha to escape poverty or gain an education (and then leave once their needs are satisfied). Young monks misbehave in so-called bhikku hostels on campuses. Few meditate. The vast majority cannot read Pali, the language of the Buddhist scriptures. Many eat meat and consume alcohol (Obeyesekere, 2006, p. 135). Periodically one reads of monks who have been accused of sexually abusing minors (Pathirana, 2012). Monks have also engaged in fisticuffs in parliament. Some use vulgar and abusive language in public. And many monks are materialistic and corrupt. The sangha thus represents a paradox in that on the one hand they remain the guardians of Sri Lanka’s unique Buddhist identity. At the same time, their disreputable behaviour partly speaks to the moral and institutional crisis within Buddhism, even as the nationalism that galvanises such acts masks this ongoing degeneration.
But the link between political Buddhism and a relatively decadent and corrupt sangha is hardly acknowledged—assuming it is recognised. Buddhist clergy played a commendable role pushing back against missionary activities during colonial times—activities deliberately designed to weaken Buddhism in the island. This further burnished the image of the clergy, even as it empowered them. It is Sri Lanka’s tragedy that some prominent figures in the clergy used their status to further an ethnocracy that is now veering towards an autocratic ethnocracy.
This is especially so under President Gotabaya Rajapaksa who seems determined to further cement Sinhalese Buddhist ethnocracy. For instance, only three of thirty-five secretaries to ministries in Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s government are ethnic minorities, while nearly all major appointees to leading state agencies are Buddhists. There also appears to be just one non-Sinhalese individual in the all-military and police Presidential Task Force to build a Secure Country, Disciplined, Virtuous and Lawful Society. The day before the gazette announcing this task force was advertised, a separate gazette created the Presidential Task Force for Archaeological Heritage Management in the Eastern Province. This is being chaired by the Secretary to the Ministry of Defence Major General (Retired) Kamal Gunaratne and includes prominent Buddhist prelates. This is an all-Sinhalese grouping.
Hardcore Sinhalese Buddhist nationalists want to see all of Sri Lanka’s nine provinces contain Buddhist majorities and with Eastern Province being around one-third Buddhist, there has been a longstanding goal to change the region’s demographics and make it a predominantly Buddhist space. Claims are being made that longstanding Hindu shrines and temples were originally Buddhist places of worship and this Archaeological Heritage Management Task Force is being set up to effectuate those goals. For instance, the gazette partly empowers the task force to ‘Identify the extent of land that should be allocated for such archaeological sites and take necessary measures to allocate them properly and legally’. This is a major step towards further Sinhalese Buddhist colonisation of Eastern Province. Sri Lanka may be on the cusp of facing its own Ayodhyas!
Conclusion
Sri Lanka—and for that matter India especially under Narendra Modi—evidence how a country can be both a consolidated democracy and majoritarian at the same time. Political Buddhism has played a prominent role in achieving this, even as many within the sangha promote authoritarianism in the island. For instance, when Gotabaya Rajapaksa was planning to run for the presidency one of the most prominent monks in the island encouraged him to be a Hitler to develop the country (Colombo Telegraph, 2018). He and other senior monks even encouraged the president to govern the country without working through parliament. These are indeed disturbing developments in a country that takes pride in being Asia’s oldest democracy.
As noted above, there is no hierarchy within the sangha, so it is not as if these pro-autocracy monks operate without pushback. For there remain many monks who clamour against the current government’s autocratic tendencies. Such monks can play a formidable role in ensuring that Sri Lanka continues to operate as at least a flawed democracy. The irony, however, is that these same monks who are averse to autocracy are comfortable with ethnocracy because they wholeheartedly subscribe to the Sinhalese Buddhist nationalist ideology. In this light, illiberal democracy may be the best one can hope for in the country.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest regarding the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
