10. Malaysian Chinese & Religion (Part 4: Buddhism)
Under a banyan tree, more than two thousand years ago, a man sat deep in meditation and resolve. Even if my skin, sinews and bones wither away, even if my flesh and blood dry up, I will not leave this place until I am enlightened, he told himself. Seeking the truth about the human condition, this man had renounced his life as a prince some years ago, and had since been wandering as an ascetic.
Now, under this tree, he was on the cusp of the answer.
It was at this moment that the demon Mara appeared. Mara was a master of desire and illusion, and delighted in living creatures being held captive by worldly passions and fears. Mara, sensing that this former prince posed a threat, launched wave after wave of temptation and trickery.
First, Mara whispered into the man’s ear, promising him glory if he returned to palace life. Do that, and I promise you that you will come to have a magnificent empire, with even greater riches, pleasure and power! But the man was unmoved. He had not come this far, only to go back to the very place that he escaped.
Next, Mara sent his three daughters. They morphed into hundreds of women, of every age and disposition, all of great beauty. They danced around him, seeking to mesmerise and seduce him. But for their sensuality, they, too, failed to entice him.
Mara then unleashed a demon army, surrounding the man with a terrifying array of monsters. If you will not be tempted by pleasures of the flesh, then it is your flesh that I will destroy! But the man appeared unfazed by this threat, continuing only to meditate.
Getting increasingly infuriated, Mara ordered his army to attack. A thousand javelins, spears and arrows flew into the sky towards the man. But as they fell, these weapons turned instead into flowers at the man’s feet.
Mara was outraged, but he was not done. If this man would not be moved in body, then Mara would break his spirit. Mara challenged the man’s right to enlightenment altogether. You are but a mere mortal, unlike me — a god! Mara then pointed to the legion of demons behind him. All of them are here to bear witness to this truth, Mara said, whereas you have none at all! Whatever truth you find, no one will believe you!
The man gently touched the earth with his right hand, and the Earth itself spoke in return, I bear this man witness. With that, Mara and his army — having exhausted everything they were capable of — were defeated. The morning star appears as the demons vanish, and the man under the banyan tree attains enlightenment.
The man in the story earlier, of course, is Siddartha Gautama. The story above is one version of the myth surrounding the moment when he becomes the Buddha, whose teachings would come to be known to the world as Buddhism. And that’s what today’s entry — Part 4 of my series on Malaysian Chinese & Religion — is all about. If you’re keen to know more about the historical origin story — the one without demon warriors and shape-shifting seductresses — do have a look at my previous post, Buddhism and me: a beginner’s take on the origin story.
Picking up from there, we’ll look at the core foundations of Buddhism, the two main traditions of Buddhism today, as well as the specific form of Buddhism we find in Malaysia.
Note: When referencing Buddhist terms, this post will — unless otherwise stated — use the original Pali terms, which is the language in which Buddhist scriptures were originally captured.
Of existence and liberation: the core foundations of Buddhism
At the heart of Buddhism is a worldview about the true nature of existence. This nature is described as samsara. It is a belief that we are all trapped in a perpetual cycle of being born, dying, and being reborn. After Siddartha Gautama became enlightened — and emerged as the Buddha — he became liberated from the cycle of samsara.
Notice that I’ve written “the Buddha”. Often, when this phrase is used, it’s evident that we’re referring to Siddartha Gautama — not the prince, but the man who had achieved enlightenment. In Buddhism, a core belief is that anyone could become a Buddha — for the Buddha himself was human. There was nothing inherently divine about Siddartha Gautama. That said, there are different interpretations as to what someone has to do to get on the path of enlightenment; this boils down to the different Buddhist traditions, which we’ll look at in the second section.
With that in mind, Buddhists believe that the key to enlightenment can be found in the teachings of the Buddha, also known as the dhamma. These teachings speak to a range of beliefs, concepts, and practices, which can vary according to different Buddhist traditions. But all of them share a common framework built on top of the worldview of samsara.
That framework is called the Four Noble Truths. The Four Noble Truths are dukkha, samudaya, nirodha and marga. Often, this would be translated as: suffering, the cause of suffering, the end of suffering, and the path away from suffering. This is nice and simple, but to fully appreciate what the Four Noble Truths are about, it’s useful to dive a little deeper.
Dukhha: beyond suffering
In Buddhism, being trapped in the perpetual cycle of rebirth comes with dukkha. In the Buddha’s first sermon at Benares — the closing scene of my earlier post on Siddartha Gautama — this is what he is said to have explained about dukkha:
Now this, bhikkhus (monastics), is the noble truth of suffering. Birth is suffering, ageing is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering, union with what is displeasing is suffering, separation from what is pleasing is suffering, not to get what one wants is suffering.
In my learning, I have found that the translation of dukkha into “suffering” is largely for brevity’s sake. The intended meaning is much more nuanced. Dukkha is the lingering sense that something is not quite right. It is much more than just pain, hunger or even sadness. A person could have all the hallmarks of a great life — a successful career, a happy marriage, good health, et cetera. But somehow, something is still ‘not quite right’. This is dukkha — not just an emotion, but very much a state of being.
Samudaya: understanding the root causes
What causes this state of being? This is where samudaya comes in. The origin of dukkha is said to be desire or craving. Again, this is a rough translation of the word tanha, which is not intended to mean all forms of desire; rather, it refers to desire that is misplaced or misdirected. After all, Buddhists do believe that certain desires are good, such as the desire to become enlightened.
Specifically, Buddhist teachings talk about the Three Poisons that are intertwined with desire, which cause dukkha. These are greed (raga, also translated as lust), hatred (dvesha, or anger) and delusion (moha, or ignorance). These are also sometimes called the Three Fires. You can see these depicted in the Wheel of Life below — raga as the rooster, dvesha as the snake, moha as the pig. You can find it in the earlier mural as well, although you may need to zoom in quite a bit.
An associated concept to the above is also that of impermanence, which features quite a lot in Buddhism. Buddhist teachings often emphasise how nothing lasts, and everything is in a constant, fluid state of becoming and unbecoming — whether it is a living creature, a relationship, an emotion, or even the idea of the self. The desire to hold on to something is thus seen as causing dukkha, because it has the misguided presumption that we can secure something or someone permanently.
Nirodha: putting out the fires of dukkha
Meanwhile, nirodha speaks to the possibility of becoming liberated from the cycle of samsara, and thus, the cessation of dukkha. Buddhists believe that when a person fully extinguishes the Three Poisons of raga, dvesha and moha, they will be able to attain enlightenment — that is nibanna (often spelt as nirvana).
That is not to say that one should live dispassionately. After all, the state of nirvana is said to be one where a person would experience a profound sense of joy and peace. Rather, in lieu of negative emotions like greed and anger, Buddhists believe that one should instead exercise karuna — usually translated as compassion, it speaks to a sense of empathy and solidarity with all living things.
At a deeper level, I would also note that the Buddhist motivation for compassion also goes beyond “doing good deeds”. Rather, it is rooted in a belief that everything is connected to one another, or pratityasamutpada (usually translated as “dependent origination”). In that sense, it is only wise to care for and pay attention to how our behaviours affect everything around us.
Marga: principles for conduct, mental discipline, and wisdom
The final Noble Truth is marga, which is meant to be the way out of all of the above. Some of you may remember from the earlier story about Sujata who offers Siddartha a bowl of porridge, and how this led him to realise that there was a Middle Way — a moderate philosophy which did not require the extremes of asceticism or luxury. Marga builds very much on this view.
What evolves here is that it is broken down further into eight principles, known as the Eightfold Path. These are: right view, right understanding, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration.
Buddhist teachings touch on various facets of each of these principles or ‘paths’, so I do not want to attempt to summarise it here due to my lack of in-depth understanding. But what is clear for all of us to see is that these are meant to guide Buddhist followers in various aspects of life — be it the inner self, or even more ‘worldly’ things like one’s profession.
What I can also share is that in Buddhism, the Eightfold Path is also grouped into three categories: conduct (sila — right speech, right action, right livelihood), mental discipline (samadhi — right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration), and wisdom (panna — right understanding, right intention).
From the tree of Buddhism and into its branches
So far, everything we’ve covered are what I understand to be the ‘universal’ aspects of Buddhist thought. While I am happy to be corrected, my sense is that the belief about samsara and the Four Noble Truths are shared by all Buddhist practitioners and followers. This is why I described them as core foundations of the religion.
Beyond that, however, beliefs and practices can differ depending on where you live. This is nothing controversial, of course; we see this with all world religions. As for Buddhism, having been around for more than two thousand years, it is unsurprising to know that Buddhist practice has evolved in different ways.
It all started when Siddartha Gautama died, at around 480 BCE. As you would expect, different groups that held different interpretations about the Buddha’s teachings began to emerge. Over many years, two branches would eventually emerge —Theravada and Mahayana.
Theravada is regarded as the oldest existing school of Buddhism. Broadly speaking, it can be thought of as the more ‘conservative’ of the two, as it seeks to stay as closely as possible to what is believed to be the original teachings of Gautama Buddha (or simply, the Buddha). To be clear, this is not to say that Theravada Buddhism believes that there is only one Buddha; rather, it places a central — almost exclusive, I think — focus on Siddartha Gautama and his teachings. Sometimes called Southern Buddhism, Theravada is today the prevalent tradition in countries like Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Laos and Thailand.
Meanwhile, Mahayana means ‘greater vehicle’. Perhaps reflecting this namesake, it takes a broader, perhaps more flexible view. Mahayana scriptures incorporate later, ‘newer’ material, and its teachings are also made more accessible to a wider audience; for example, Theravada scripture reserves certain aspects exclusively for more senior monastics. Mahayana Buddhism also draws on a range of Buddhas and other deity-like figures, which we’ll come to shortly. Mahayana Buddhism is sometimes called East Asian or Chinese Buddhism. So as you would expect, it is the prevalent tradition in countries like China, Japan, Korea and — you guessed it — Malaysia.
Reflecting these differences, Theravada and Mahayana Buddhism take slightly different views about the ideal spiritual path.
The Theravada tradition emphasises the arhat (disciple, or student) path — which is to become a monastic, be away from the distractions of worldly life, and achieve enlightenment through one’s own effort. In keeping with its more ‘conservative’ spirit, this tradition places a great focus on what Siddartha Gautama himself went through, in a way making his journey as the specific model that Buddhists should strive to adopt. Deities or deity-like figures do not feature significantly. In a sense, the Theravada tradition sets a higher spiritual bar.
On the other hand, the Mahayana tradition advocates the bodhissatva path; a bodhisattva is someone who is on the path towards Buddhahood, but chooses to stay in the cycle of rebirth to help others become enlightened. Importantly, the belief here is that any layperson can achieve enlightenment, not just monastics. Its practices also relate to other Buddhas beyond Gautama Buddha. And as much as self-effort matters, Mahayana Buddhists also take the view that you can — and should — get help along the way, which is where prayer and the pantheon of deity-like bodhisattvas come in.
From the branches to the shoots in Malaysia
If you ask an average Malaysian what they know about Buddhist practice in Malaysia, I believe you would get an array of answers relating to more visible artefacts or rituals. For instance, it might be the chanting of the expression namo emituofo (南无阿弥陀佛). Many would probably also recognise the Goddess of Mercy, for which there are often tall statues in temples. Knowing all this is well and good, but it does not help us place where the practices fit within the broader universe of Buddhism. In this final section, I will try my best to do just that.
The prevalent practice in Malaysia is, as we have said, Mahayana Buddhism. But Buddhism in Malaysia generally belongs to a specific school within Mahayana Buddhism, known as the Pure Land School. If Theravada and Mahayana are the big branches from the Buddhist tree, then you can think of Pure Land School as being one of the shoots that have grown from the Mahayana branch.
Being part of that branch, the Pure Land School has the hallmarks of the Mahayana tradition — it draws from the same scriptures, features other Buddhas more significantly and celebrates the path of the bodhisattva. But being part of the same tree, it shares in the universal beliefs among all Buddhists, such as the cycle of samsara and the Four Noble Truths.
So what are the distinctive qualities of the Pure Land School?
Well, the first can be gleaned from the name of the school itself. Followers of this school believe that there is a realm called Sukhavati — literally “blissful land” — where the path towards enlightenment is easier. In this place, you have the best possible conditions to work towards enlightenment — no distractions, no risk of regression, et cetera. Ergo, pure land.
Buddhists of the Pure Land School therefore seek rebirth into Sukhavati. Not as a final destination, to be clear. Rather, Sukhavati is like an ideal stop on the way to becoming enlightened, following which the goal would be to return to the world as we know it to guide others — that is, taking the path of a bodhisattva as advocated in the Mahayana tradition.
This brings us to the second distinctive quality of the Pure Land School. Sukhavati is believed to have been created by — and is presided over — by Amitabha Buddha. The name Amitabha is translated to mean “infinite light”. When Buddhists chant namo emituofo (南无阿弥陀佛)what they are saying is, I devote myself entirely to Amitabha Buddha. The belief is that if one wants to be reborn into Sukhavati, then all one has to do is to call out Amitabha Buddha’s name, with sincerity and single-mindedness.
The third would be the bodhisattvas that are typically portrayed together with Amitabha Buddha in the Pure Land School. These are Avalokitesvara (better known to the Chinese as Guanyin 观音, usually on the left of Amitabha) and Mahasthamaprapta (usually on the right) — as shown below here.
Until I researched this topic, I never knew of the latter bodhisattva. But the former needs very little introduction to most Malaysian Chinese people. She is none other than the Goddess of Mercy, who has a deity-like status and is associated with compassion — if you recall, compassion is quite central to Buddhist ideas, especially when it comes to nirodha (the cessation from dukkha).
From my own upbringing, I also know — but do not yet fully understand why — Buddhists who pray to Guanyin for a great many things, including to grant miracles in times of trouble. Those who pray to Guanyin also do not eat beef (again, I don’t yet know why). This stands in notable contrast with the practice in places where the Theravada tradition dominates. As I understand it, Theravada Buddhists do not even ‘pray’ to the Buddha; instead, the physical figure of the Buddha is more to remind the follower of the teachings of the Buddha, and the path that Siddartha Gautama took towards enlightenment.
Having learned about these features of the Pure Land School, I hope it gives you a better appreciation for Buddhist practices in the Malaysian Chinese context.
For me, it was definitely an eye-opening journey. I finally feel like I understand why Buddhism in Malaysia seems so different from what one would typically encounter in history books or other primers on Buddhism. Many of these, by and large, tend to describe the oldest tenets of Buddhism — and as such, are closer to the Theravada tradition. Those are relevant, as I’ve established above, but they say very little about the more (for lack of a better word) mystical aspects that perhaps are more prevalent in the Mahayana tradition, especially that of the Pure Land School.
The end of this series… I think?
If you have read this far, I thank you for your patience. Believe it or not, I am only scratching the surface of Buddhism in this post!
In any case, we have now come full circle since I started the series on Malaysian Chinese & Religion just under a month ago. I had set out to provide a bird’s eye view — starting with the premise that Malaysian Chinese religion is essentially rojak (or syncretic), and then going onto its three essential ingredients: Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism.
Now that I have gotten here and learned what I have learned, I feel like I have a lot more to say and share. So perhaps this series will be revived another day, as I explore other related perspectives. I am also open to your feedback on what you may be interested to read. But for now, I’m calling it a day! Thank you for going on this journey with me, and I hope this series has left you with a richer appreciation of the belief systems among the Malaysian Chinese community.
Coming up next
We will take a break from the spiritual domain and return to more wordly affairs in the next post, where I will pick up from where I left off last Thursday — that is, with Part 2 of the story behind 16 May: Malaysia’s national Teachers’ Day. Stay tuned by hitting that Subscribe button!
Until then, Happy Wesak Day to all my Buddhist readers… and as usual, happy nerding everyone!