Buddhist Warfare

by Michael Jerryson

  Japan also has a long history of militarized monks. As early as the tenth century under the abbotship of Rygen, Tendai armies marched into battle. These soldier-monks were well aware of their transgressive behavior and, because of their actions, were dubbed “evil monks.” Regardless of this sanction against them, the monks perceived their tasks as absolutely necessary. Christoph Kleine explains that the purpose became cosmic in importance: “armed monks had an important task to fulfill, for the sake of Buddhism and thus the sake of all sentient beings.”31 Centuries later, during the Warring States period of the 1500s, Japanese warrior-monks (ikko-ikki) became prevalent, and in the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905),32 Japanese Zen monks could be seen marching in the front lines of the military.

  The rationale for violence in Theravda Buddhism may be a latent tendency in its adherents and monks. As such, this tendency toward violence would remain inactive until a Buddhist sovereignty is threatened and triggers a defensive (yet aggressive) reaction. In southern Thailand, the ongoing terrorist actions—like the violence committed by the Khmer Rouge (which, according to Kittiwuttho, awoke in him the need to defend Buddhism) or the ethnic fratricide in Sri Lanka during the 1980s—have activated this latent tendency for a militant Buddhist response.

  Ordinations, although uncommon in the southernmost provinces due to the low Buddhist population, have drastically decreased in numbers. In one district I visited, there had been only one ordination in over a year. That individual was a young teacher who decided to ordain for a few weeks before defrocking and returning to lay life. Those individuals who remain monks describe the very existence of Thai Buddhism in the region as endangered. For them, the violence is not merely about worldly existence and its mundane matters but, more important, about the survival of the dhamma, the Buddhist doctrine. One monk who is in favor of military monks explained that this militancy is a necessity:

  It is beneficial to have military monks in order to protect the religion. I mean to protect religious rituals, the dhamma, artifacts, and people. … Buddhist artifacts have been destroyed. It is good to have a guard to keep an eye on these things. The Buddha’s teachings, i.e., the books, are still here. The religious people are still here. If you are asking about the military monk’s importance, I would like to ask you back—what if there were no military monks? What would happen? The monasteries might be attacked and destroyed. When the monasteries are destroyed, what would happen then?33

  It is in this respect that military monks and some nonmilitary monks regard Thai Malay Muslims as their enemies. I asked Phra Eks to define Thai-ness (kwmpenthai):

  Thai-ness means good human relationships [that are] gentle, [in which each] helps the other. But now it’s not like that here. Thai Buddhists are still the same; they are gentle like [Thai-ness prescribes] but Thai Muslims have only violence.34

  Violence against monks and monasteries has activated the latent tendency in Thai Buddhism to demonize the Other and justify violence. It is this mentality that has spurred atypical behavior in Thai monks, behavior such as abbots who go to sleep at night with guns next to their beds.

  Caught between the conflicting tides of doctrine and practice, a few high-ranking southern monks do offer doctrinal justification for the military monks. According to them, although the Vinaya strictly prohibits monks from using any aggressive force, it does allow them to defend themselves. For these southern monks, the advent of the military monk is an example of this allowance. An examination of different Buddhist traditions reveals varying explanations. Richard Jones provides a slightly different view to justify the creation of military monks by the Thai Buddhist state. According to Jones, the monk’s most central social obligation is to teach the dhamma. Any action taken to preserve this primary social responsibility is secondary in importance to the repercussions of not teaching the dhamma.35

  Employing this rationale, the obligation of some monks to teach the dhamma in southern Thailand requires the presence of military monks. Only they can ensure the existence of monks in this region; otherwise, there would be no monks present at all. Military monks may accept the doctrine and the patriotic justification of their actions; nonetheless, they still must conceal their purpose. I once asked Phra Eks if I could take his picture. He quickly refused, explaining, “It would be too dangerous.” Indeed, Phra Eks does need to be concerned about exposure. A photograph of him brandishing a gun would expose the secret of military monks and subsequently result in his expulsion from the sangha and possible death.

  Anthropologist Stanley Tambiah argues that militancy separates a monk from his sacred identity. Referring to the militant activities of the JVP monks in Sri Lanka, Tambiah explains, “The monk who has finally taken to the gun can no longer be considered a vehicle of the Buddha’s religion.”36 In this vein, a picture of Phra Eks with a gun would strip him of sacrality, destroy the perceived pacifism of southern monks, and undermine the clandestine nature of the entire military monk program. Although their existence is a secret, military monks embody the militarization of Buddhist roles.

  From Monastic to Military Compound

  In addition to the militarization of Buddhist roles, Thai Buddhist spaces are also being militarized. On November 9, 2006, the Bangkok Post published a brief article about 100 Thai Buddhist villagers who fled their homes in Yala, one of the southernmost provinces. Women, men, and children abandoned their homes and livelihoods and traveled to the capital district to find refuge in Wat Nirotsangkatham.37 By the beginning of December, their numbers had grown to over 228 people.38 The Buddhist refugees did not feel that it would be safe to return to their villages; instead, they made temporary homes at the monastery. The villagers were not the only laity then residing at Wat Nirotsangkatham. Thai soldiers were already living at the monastery, guarding the entrance and fortifying its perimeters.

  The military encampment at Wat Nirotsangkatham is one of many instances in which the state has militarized Thai Buddhism. Although soldiers protect the monks and refugees at the monastery, they also use the Buddhist space to strategize and execute military commands, effectively converting the monastic compound into a military headquarters.

  The most common place signified in Thai Buddhism is and has always been the monastery, which often has been identified by locals as a communal investment. The significance of the site has changed, however, due to the practices that now take place in the monasteries. From the time when martial law was declared in southern Thailand in 2004 through 2007, Buddhist monks reported that Malay Muslims no longer frequented the Buddhist monasteries. Instead of serving as communal gathering places, monasteries became spaces of contestation. Military units and covert operatives situated there guard monasteries against such dangers as power outages and armed assaults. A consequence of this vigilance by the state and its militarization of Buddhist spaces is that Thai Buddhist identity has also been militarized.

  The local investment in a monastery can be measured from different vantage points. Although there are many, in this chapter I will outline only two levels for analysis: the religious and the secular.39 In religious terms, having a monastery allows the surrounding religious community easy access to annual ceremonies and to rituals, such as funerals, ordinations, and holidays. Buddhist monks who live in the monastery go outside it daily for morning alms (binthabat). This routine provides the local laity with affordable, continual opportunities to make merit. From a secular perspective, having a monastery allows the community access to basketball and volleyball courts, schools, meeting areas, medical care, and therapeutic counseling for people of all faiths.40 These two different communal functions lead scholar Donald Swearer to identify a monastery as the “religious, cultural and social center of the community.”41

  In Thailand’s southernmost provinces, a monastery’s religious function is dominant as it is used to demarcate Buddhist space within every district. According to the Office of National Buddhism’s records, Pattani province has eighty-eight monasteries, Narathiwat has seventy-five, an
d the smallest number is found in Yala province, which has only forty-five monasteries.42 Interestingly, Buddhist space is not reflective of the Buddhist populations in these three provinces. According to the National Statistical Office in Thailand, Yala, with the fewest monasteries, has the greatest number of Buddhists: 127,442.43

  Prior to the state’s declaration of martial law in January 2004, a southern monastery signified a place for communal gatherings as well as Buddhist veneration. These shared spaces attracted Thai Buddhists, Thai Chinese Buddhists, and Thai Malay Muslims. From 2004 to the present, southern Thai monks have considered the monastery’s space altered due to the contemporary violent context. Specifically, they feel that locals view and use their monasteries in a distinctly different manner. Emblematic of this difference are statements made by the abbot of Wat Kaanai in Pattani province. In a phone interview, he explained that, before the increase in violence: “Islam was just Islam and Buddhism was just Buddhism. They did not intermingle. But, whenever we had Thai cultural events like Mother’s Day or Father’s Day, Muslims would come to our monastery.”44 Locals, whether they were Malay Muslim or Thai Buddhist, would also gather together at monasteries for Thai national celebrations such as the Thai New Year (songkran) and the Thai king’s or queen’s birthday.

  The state’s implementation of martial law and the insurgent violence in Buddhist villages in southern Thailand have resulted in a different function for monasteries in the area. Wat Nirotsangkatham serves as a striking example of this new appropriation. On an early December afternoon in 2006, I spoke with the abbot from Wat Nirotsangkatham. In his office, he explained that some of the current refugees living at his monastery had donated money years ago in order to erect the very buildings in which they were now living: “Now, the villagers want the monastery to help them. It’s like what they did in the past comes to help them now. … This building where villagers stay now was built by them.”

  Thai and Thai Chinese Buddhist refugees from Yala’s Bannang Sata and Than To districts currently view the monastery as more than a religious and communal space; they have also made the monastery their home. Although many Thai Buddhists believe that a monastery is a sacred space and is endowed with protective powers, many Yala refugees chose the location for more mundane reasons: it contains useful facilities and is a shelter large enough to accommodate them. In December 2006, under one of Wat Nirotsangkatham’s pavilions, a community leader relayed some of the refugees’ initial considerations for sanctuary. “Other places were not big enough to fit all of us,” he said, and then added, “and it is safer here because of the soldiers.”45 The community leader’s comment about it being safer at the monastery addresses an important social association in southern monasteries located within violent environments. In addition to their religious and secular significance, monasteries are now recognized as among the most militarily fortified areas in the three southernmost provinces.

  One of the more devastating attacks by militants occurred immediately after the Chinese New Year, on February 18, 2007. A number of bomb attacks targeted restaurants, karaoke bars, shops, and Buddhist homes in Pattani and Yala provinces. The Bangkok Post, Thailand’s most widely read English newspaper, described this as the “biggest wave of coordinated bombings, terrorism and murders” that had occurred in the southern border provinces.46 At the time of these attacks, I was living in Pattani province in a monk’s quarters (kuti) at Wat Chang Hai. The monastery, as well as other buildings in Pattani and Yala provinces, lost electricity when the central power stations were bombed.

  Wat Chang Hai, known for its connection to Lang Ph Tuat, one of Thailand’s most venerated monks of the late sixteenth century, is an internationally renowned Buddhist pilgrimage site. The facilities at Wat Chang Hai sprawl over thirteen rai47 of land and include a school system and amulet shops. Because of this and the restaurants located in its vicinity, Wat Chang Hai represents a significant local investment. The existence of Wat Chang Hai is owed largely to the Hokkien Khananurak family, who financed the renovation of the monastery in 1936. Historian Patrick Jory writes that the Khananurak family supported numerous other Thai monasteries, and they exemplify Chinese families in the southern provinces who have enjoyed good relations with the local Chinese, Thai, and Malay communities.48

  By 2007, many of these shops had been vacated. They were visible reminders of the economic impact that violence has had in the southernmost provinces. A few restaurants remained open, but all closed their doors at 5:00 p.m., which coincided with the time that the monastery’s front gates were locked. Monks and locals explained that, before 2004, stores and restaurants used to stay open late into the evening. One restaurant that did receive enough business to stay open was a small family-owned establishment with a dozen wooden tables and a small television mounted on the ceiling in the back. I went to the restaurant the day after the organized attacks and noted the difference between these customers and their conversations and those from previous days.

  There were very few customers and all spoke in hushed tones about the recent bombings. The old man who owned the restaurant appeared to be more concerned about the lack of customers than about a potential attack on his restaurant. Wat Chang Hai is surrounded by the heavily Buddhist-populated district of Khokpo. That was only one of his reasons for feeling secure. “There are quite a lot of [Buddhist] people in this area,” he explained. “I always leave the lights on at night. Many people walk past [my restaurant] at night. And the police and soldiers are also around. Terrorists would not dare to come here.”49

  At Wat Nirotsangkaham and Wat Chang Hai and throughout the southernmost provinces, soldiers and national police use monasteries as their primary bases of operations and as their homes. Thai monasteries have excellent strategic positions. They are near the highest population of Buddhists in an area, have access to ample supplies of food and water, and contain facilities large enough to accommodate the police and soldiers. Abbots generally feel receptive to the needs of soldiers and police and make efforts to accommodate them. One abbot in the capital district of Pattani explained that the soldiers at his monastery had no daily stipends. “The soldiers need food and need to use the bathroom, so this is why they stay at my monastery. [T]he soldiers depend on lay donations to my monastery for food.”50 One of the policemen stationed at the monastery noted:

  There are many reasons [to be stationed at a monastery]. One is to protect the monks. Another is to help in the development of the monastery. And the monastery is a convenient place for us as well. Because of the monastery, we do not have to find somewhere else to stay.51

  FIGURE 8.2 Thai pavilion converted into a barracks within a Buddhist monastery. Photo taken by Michael Jerryson.

  The military occupation of monasteries is more than a pragmatic exercise of protection and sustenance. Pierre Bourdieu states, “Space can have no meaning apart from practice; the system of generative and structuring dispositions, or habitus, constitutes and is constituted by actors’ movement through space.”52 It is what people practice in the monasteries that shapes the significance of the monasteries. Practices within southern monasteries have changed dramatically—primarily due to their new military occupants.

  It is more than thirty years since southern Thai monasteries began to be used by the Thai military. Thai soldiers have a history of living in monasteries during times of crisis and conflict. During World War II, soldiers occupied monasteries in the northeastern and southern provinces. Later, in the 1970s, in areas considered hot beds for Communist forces in the southernmost provinces, monasteries were simultaneously used to house soldiers and as training grounds for the Border Patrol Police’s Village Scouts.53 Now, the military occupation of monasteries has resurfaced in the three southern provinces.

  Since 2002, these Buddhist spaces have become militarized by the very existence of military personnel working and living in them. To protect a southern monastery’s occupants from being observed and attacked, the military personnel residing at it usually raise
the outer walls and stretch barbed wire around the entrance and the perimeter. They also convert Buddhist pavilions into barracks, transform sleeping quarters into bunkers, and create lookout posts near the entrances.

  Some monasteries have over forty police officers or soldiers living within them. Military personnel are armed with handguns and M-16s and wear camouflage uniforms. I had been told that both Muslim and Buddhist police and soldiers had been living in the monasteries, but every monastery I visited was staffed solely by Buddhist personnel.54 This distinction of strictly Buddhist military personnel encourages locals to merge religious and political identifications and to view the Thai state as a Buddhist state, although its constitution (and its many redactions) does not proclaim a religious allegiance.

  State police, soldiers, and government officials (khrchakn) maintain that there is no religious preference or requirement for the police and soldiers working at a monastery. This is an important position for the state to take. Both Buddhist and Muslim residents in the south feel alienated from the state due to reoccurring acts of corruption and illicit activity by local and state government officials. The notorious disappearance of Somchai Neelaphaijit, a popular Muslim human rights attorney, symbolized the state’s failure to honor and protect the rights of southern Thai Muslims.55 Due to this and other examples, there has been increasing pressure for the state to appear impartial. Having both Muslim and Buddhist soldiers and police working at monasteries might lessen the symbolic impact of having state officials residing at a Buddhist monastery. However, the absence of any Muslim soldiers or national police in the southern monasteries underscores the perception of a state Buddhism.

  Only a handful of large military camps exists in the southernmost provinces. For instance, in Pattani province, there are only two soldier units that have their own military space—apart from the monasteries—one for combat and one for community support activities. Soldiers are sent to live in one monastery for as long as two years before relocating to another. The superior officers will issue commands to relocate, and the new site will generally be in southern Thailand.56 The advantage of stationing soldiers in the south is that the extended duration allows soldiers to become familiar with locals and to develop trust and contacts in the surrounding communities, which prior to 2004 maintained strong ties to local Muslims. When asked, monks often say that they prefer to have soldiers, rather than police, living in their monasteries; ultimately, however, the decision is not theirs. Soldiers living in monasteries are characterized as being hard working and more respectful of Buddhist precepts than the police who live at the monastery.