Crisis and Opportunity—Can Theravada Buddhism Meet the Challenge?

The Buddhist sangha is perhaps the longest-lived 
institution in world history.It has diffused across 
time and space over a period of more than 2,500 
years. It has traversed the globe through diverse, 
culturally adaptable communities that betray a clear 
(if not always successful) attempt to maintain continuity 
with traditions transmitted millennia ago. More Vinaya 
lineages and doctrinal schools have died out than those 
that are extant, but the Theravada, Mahayana, and 
Vajrayana have all survived in some form or another.

Like so many religious traditions, the greatest threat to one of 
these vehicles, the Theravada, comes from within. Theravada 
Buddhism as a whole is facing nothing less than a crisis, and it 
s critical to study how solutions can be mobilized. Already in South 
and Southeast Asia, serious questions about the Theravada 
sangha’s moral andsocial authority are being debated.   

This dramatic assertion comes from none other than the British 
Theravada monk Ajahn Brahm and Indologist Richard Gombrich, 
who came to The University of Hong Kong to share a dialogue 
about this issue on 11 March. They come from fundamentally 
different positions—a non-Buddhist who is still pro-Buddhist, 
Gombrich believes that there is no longer any significant difference 
between monks and laypeople in their potential to be ethical and 
liberated. Ajahn Brahm still believes that monasticism provides a 
vehicle for inspiration and moral restraint, and offers more potential 
for meditators to achieve the dhyanas (with which Gombrich disagrees). However, both agree that there are three major problems plaguing the 
sangha: nationalism, sexism, and a lack of education in critical thinking. 
These problems all contribute to a long-term malaise in Theravada-
dominated countries: self-inflicted irrelevance.

Nationalism arose across Asia as one of the strongest ideological weapons 

against European imperialism in the previous three centuries. But this was 

a poisoned chalice, for defining a national identity against European 

colonizers required the exclusion of others that didn’t fit this identity. As a 

result, there are few sanghas in countries dominated by Theravada Buddhists

that aren’t somehow involved in legitimizing nationalism and racism. The 

most prominent victims of these campaigns have been the Tamils of Sri  

Lanka and the Muslim minorities of Thailand and Myanmar. Gombrich 

observes drily that many monks in Myanmar and Thailand distrust even each

other, and do not accept the other’s lineage as being legitimate. Where the 

sangha is involved in violence, there will be a slow but sure decline in trust 

invested by laypeople, especially now that these local incidents are

broadcast around the world via satellite and the Internet.

Gender discrimination is taken for granted in conservative sangha circles, 

particularly in Thailand, which has been the epicenter of several high-profile 

scandals and fissures between higher authorities and liberal-minded monks. 

Ajahn Brahm has been a prominent player in this debate: 

“Theravada needs more women to literally save its life. Some say that the Buddha warned his dispensation would be shortened to 500 years with 
women’s involvement [Cullavagga X]. I say that without women, Buddhism 
might not last more than 50,” he declares. 

But at least in Thailand, the problem is even more deeply rooted. The “institutionalized phobia of women” is extreme, Gombrich observes, as 
monks are forbidden to touch even female infants or animals, and cannot 
accept gifts from the hands of women. As more women demand 
participation and say in the Buddhist religion, these customs seem ever more outdated and in urgent need of a rethink.

The third factor, a lack of critical thinking, is fatal because it cripples 
the capacity to ask questions about the casual indulgence of nationalism 
and sexism, and the breaking of Vinaya rules. Traditionally the sangha 
has been the sole preserver of Buddhist knowledge, and therefore the 
source of authority and guidance. But it has lost this exclusive role of preservation thanks to the democratizing powers of the Internet, 
universities, and private organizations digitizing the Buddhist texts for 
posterity. The sangha, as a whole, needs to reconfigure its relationship 
to wider society so that it can continue to be a relevant example and 
respected custodian of the Buddha’s teachings.

Thinking of solutions is not easy, but the spirit behind them is simple: 
the sangha needs to embrace opportunities to be more educated. It 
needs to come to terms with what contemporary people expect monks 
and nuns to be. 

“It is not bad karma to criticize monks, which for some reason is a 

common excuse to silence complaints,” says Ajahn Brahm. 

Criticism from laypeople has always kept the monks in check because 
if the monks continued to behave badly, the lay donors of the day—
merchants, caravan traders, kings, housewives—simply withdrew their 
support. The Vinaya was created because of laypeople that complained 
about badly behaved monks. To address the problem of sexism and 
institutional gynophobia, Ajahn Brahm suggests that monks start 
studying why Buddhist societies with a high ratio of female monastic participation are flourishing: Taiwan, for example.

Furthermore, Thai monks should look to the nuns in northern Thailand 
for exemplary models of practice. Although excluded and discriminated 
against by the official Buddhist hierarchy, their communities revere 
them because of their simplicity and austere lifestyle. Their pure ideals, 
true to the Buddha’s original vision of the mendicant life, will eventually 
embarrass their critics into meeting their standards.

In terms of education, monastic institutions should isolate and identify 
virtues that teachers think novices should cultivate: open-mindedness, intellectual honesty, restraint, meditative calm—and structure the 
curriculum around the pursuit of those virtues. Gombrich suggests travel 
as a solution, although it is difficult to implement for all monks: 

“All monks should spend a year in a culturally different country with an institutionally different monastery,” he declares. 

These foreign exchanges mean radical exposure to different cultures and 
would open the worlds of young Theravada monks. Again, this is only a 
start, but more contact with people of other religions and life choices in 
safe, controlled environments might also give them a more international, cosmopolitan understanding of monastic identity. 

The Theravada sangha is in crisis around the world, but from crisis comes 

opportunity. Regeneration and reformation are a continuous process: the 

sangha will never be completely pure, and problems will never be fully 

resolved. But this is not an excuse for not trying something. For the sake 
of public trust in the relevance of the most enduring institution in history, 

we must try something. 

Buddhistdoor International2015-03-20