Joshua Eaton

Independent Journalist

Category: Inequality (page 1 of 3)

Bahrain Shows Two Sides of Ambitious Economic Development


An expensive, boutique restaurant stands next to a crumbling apartment complex in Manama's upscale Adliya district (photo: Joshua Eaton)

An expensive, boutique restaurant stands next to a crumbling apartment complex in Manama’s upscale Adliya district (photo: Joshua Eaton)

“THE NAME ‘BAHRAIN’ means ‘two seas,’” our tour guide explained as we walked away from the old Portuguese fort on the outskirts of Manama. “There’s the saltwater sea that surrounds Bahrain. Then there’s the fresh water that bubbles up in the middle of the sea to our north.”

The fort itself is breathtaking, set on a hill overlooking the city on one side and the ocean on the other. Next to it stands a brand new visitors’ center, replete with a gift shop and an upscale café. A few yards away stand new, middle-class houses. But next to them stand shanties, all crumbling cinderblock and chipping paint and rusted tin.

Still in the grips of a two-year uprising, Bahrain is a country filled with such extreme economic contradictions.

Continue reading at GlobalPost . . .

Beyond the Search for Inner Peace: An Interview with Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi on Buddhism as a Force for Social Justice

Bhikkhu Bodhi at the first meeting of the Center for Interfaith Action's Global Initiative for Faith, Health and Development in Washington, D.C. (photo: Shambhala Sun)

Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi at the first meeting of the Center for Interfaith Action’s Global Initiative for Faith, Health, and Development in Washington, D.C. (photo: Shambhala Sun)

WHEN I SHOWED UP, the room at Harvard Divinity School was already overflowing. World-renowned professors and undergrads alike were packing the aisles, standing in the doorways, and squeezing in behind furniture. At the front of the room stood Bhikkhu Bodhi—a short, soft-spoken Buddhist monk with a marked Brooklyn accent—who held the audience rapt even as he explained dry, technical details of meditation.

Born Jeffrey Block, Bikkhu Bodhi has a PhD in philosophy and years of monastic training in Sri Lanka. He is best known for his translations of the Theravada Buddhist scriptures from the Pali language into English—a massive undertaking. It soon became apparent that he also has large portions of those scriptures memorized, on top of his easy familiarity with Chinese Mahayana Buddhist scriptures. However, it wasn’t his impressive abilities as a translator and scholar that brought me there that day.

Since returning to the States Ven. Bodhi has established himself on the forefront of Buddhist social justice movements. Here his list of accomplishments is almost as long as his list of publications.

Ven. Bodhi and his students founded Buddhist Global Relief, which partners with local organizations around the world to increase food security and build local food capacity. He has also been deeply involved with climate activism, most prominently co-authoring the Buddhist Climate Declaration. And he has been active in both Occupy Faith and the Rolling Jubilee campaign, which is raising money to buy and abolish defaulted medical debts.

After the talk I lingered for a while, talking with old professors and classmates until hardly anyone was left. I finally approached Ven. Bodhi to introduce myself—we’d been exchanging emails—and to thank him for his social justice work. He was leaving the next day but agreed to an interview.

Below is our conversation about Buddhist Global Relief, the future of politically engaged Buddhism in the United States, and his own shift from private spirituality to public witness.

When did you start becoming concerned about issues of inequality and social justice? What sparked your concern?

My concern for peace, equality, and social justice goes back to my years in college and my first year in graduate school. During my college years I leaned toward an idealistic version of socialism (though certainly not communism). I was also concerned about civil rights and participated in demonstrations against the war in Vietnam, which was the major moral challenge facing my generation.

After I encountered Buddhism, I decided that my primary task was to change myself rather than to change the world and thus my focus shifted to my spiritual development. I maintained this attitude toward social issues during my first stay in Sri Lanka (1972–77) and my first period as a monk in the U.S. (1977–82).

I returned to Sri Lanka in 1982 and for the first two years lived mostly in a secluded forest monastery where there was no access to news about current events. But from 1984 until his death in 1994, I lived with the great German elder Ven. Nyanaponika Thera at his hermitage near Kandy. Ven. Nyanaponika showed a keen interest in the relationship between the Dharma and social issues. His interest was not based on “intoxication with worldly matters” but on a deep compassion for humanity.

He subscribed to Time magazine, and each week we would discuss the important news articles we had read (during his last four years he was almost blind, so I had to read out loud to him). Through Ven. Nyanaponika I came to see that the imperative of compassion requires that we turn around to face the world again and use the light of the Dharma [Sanskrit shorthand for “teachings of the Buddha” —Eds.] to illuminate its problems and search for pathways to their resolution.

While in Sri Lanka I generally kept a low profile (being too outspoken about the situation in the country could have put my visa in jeopardy), but once I returned to the U.S. in 2002 I felt an obligation to speak out, especially as I saw our nation sliding swiftly in the direction of militarism, jingoism, and autocracy.

I also was troubled by the way many Buddhists, while speaking eloquently about compassion, viewed the Dharma essentially as a path to inner peace and treated engagement with social and political matters as tangential to their practice. I came to feel that under the conditions of our time, it was necessary to translate such values as loving-kindness and compassion into concrete action in order to reduce the socially-created suffering that so many people today, less fortunate than ourselves, must face as a daily ordeal.

My own way of contributing in this area has been as founder and chair of Buddhist Global Relief, which is dedicated to helping communities worldwide afflicted by chronic hunger and malnutrition. We came into existence in 2008, and in the four years of our life span we have launched over fifty projects in countries ranging from Vietnam and Cambodia, through India and Africa, to Haiti and the U.S.

In 2007 you wrote an article for Buddhadharma: The Practitioner’s Quarterly that sparked the idea for Buddhist Global Relief. You said, “I’ve been struck by how seldom the theme of global suffering—the palpable suffering of real human beings—is thematically explored in the Buddhist journals and teachings with which I am acquainted.” You also wrote that “engaged Buddhism still remains tangential to the hard core of Western interest in Buddhism, which is the dharma as a path to inner peace and self-realization.” Have you seen that change since 2007?

I have not made an extensive survey of the current American Buddhist scene, but I did attend the Conference on Engaged Buddhism, organized by the Zen Peacemakers in 2010. I learned much from this experience.

From what I could observe at the conference, a large number of Buddhists are attempting to draw upon principles intrinsic to the Dharma to deal with challenges we face in present-day society. Some, with scientific backgrounds, have been applying mindfulness and meditation practices to alleviate stress and psychological disturbances; others are using the Dharma to aid conflict resolution and still others are helping prisoners and soldiers gain access to Buddhist teachings; some are using Buddhist ethical principles as guideposts to wholesome business practices; others are working with troubled youth; and some are providing compassionate health care and guidance to the dying.

It was evident to me, too, that these extended applications of the Dharma did not begin in 2007, provoked by my essay, but had already been around for a decade or more. So the statement that I made in my Buddhadharma essay may have been shortsighted in some respects.

But I could not help noticing that the side of Buddhism that was being emphasized, even by those seeking to give the Dharma wider relevance, is its cache of techniques for inducing inner calm, equanimity, and acceptance rather than its potential for developing a radical critique of contemporary society.

At the Conference on Engaged Buddhism the participants could be seen to fall roughly into two camps: a majority camp, made up of those who accepted the present structures of society and sought to use Buddhist teachings to enable people to function more effectively and peacefully within its contours; and a minority camp, made up of those who sought to draw from the Dharma a radical critique of the dominant social ethos and its institutions.

I would put myself in the latter camp. But I could see that, absent a sharp social critique, Buddhist practices could easily be used to justify and stabilize the status quo, becoming a reinforcement of consumer capitalism.

Aside from your work with Buddhist Global Relief you were also an active supporter of Occupy Wall Street and its Occupy Faith offshoot. Can you tell us some about how you got involved with OWS and what it means to you?

Interestingly, back in March or April 2010 a group based in Washington D.C. announced plans to launch a major movement modeled after Egypt’s Tahrir Square uprising. The movement was scheduled to begin in October with an occupation of Freedom Plaza in central Washington. The organizers included Margaret Flowers, a pediatrician who has led the campaign for single-payer health care, and Kevin Zeese, a social activist. I had signed on to this and went to D.C. for the launch events in early October, along with another American Buddhist monk, Ajahn Gunavuddho, and his mother, Ayya Santussika, a Buddhist nun.

We had already heard that an occupy movement had started in New York, but from what we read, it sounded frenzied and unruly. The following week, however, I received an invitation from the ministers at Judson Memorial Church [Rev. Michael Ellison] to attend a meeting of clergy that would lay the foundation for a movement of faith leaders in harmony with the aims of Occupy Wall Street (which by then had assumed this name). I attended together with Ayya Santussika—her son had returned to California a few days earlier—and we both felt this a project worth participating in.

Because I live in upstate New York, my involvement with Occupy Faith has been irregular. During its most active period, the coordinators were calling meetings almost weekly and it was hard for me to travel up and down each time. But I made it a point to participate in the major gatherings and I served on the committee charged with drafting a vision statement. The tasks that Occupy Faith has set itself are:

  • to ally with unions and others to promote fair wages for all, especially low-wage workers
  • to work for fair tax policy
  • to join coalitions supporting constitutional change to get money out of politics and limit the power of corporations
  • to participate in events and initiatives organized to promote justice and fairness
  • to take nonviolent, direct action to the streets and halls of corporate and government power to advocate immediate action on climate change
  • to replace our fossil fuel addiction with renewable energy that restores creation.

I have felt a natural resonance with this movement because I see the task of the Dharma to be the alleviation of suffering.

Interestingly, I have witnessed among Christian, Jewish, and Muslim clergy a passionate commitment to deliver people from the suffering imposed by unjust, corrupt, and oppressive social structures—a task often neglected by Buddhists. This does not shake my Buddhist faith, but it does make me feel that the Dharma has to take on this broader mission if it is to unleash its full potential as a real antidote to suffering.

You have said that there is support for social engagement in “Buddhist doctrine, ethical ideals, archetypes, legends, and historical precedents.” Which of those do you find most inspiring for your own social justice work?

In terms of doctrine, I would start with the Buddha’s tenet that suffering originates from the three unwholesome roots: greed, hatred, and delusion. Classical Buddhism regards these “defilements” as embedded in individual minds and thus primarily deals with the problem of personal suffering: the suffering that arises when one acts in their grip.

But in the modern world, social systems and institutions molded by greed, hatred, and delusion have become so pervasive in their reach that they deeply impact the destinies of whole populations, both nationally and globally. Greed, hatred, and delusion thus generate suffering not merely as factors in individual minds but also in their systemic and institutional embodiments.

For this reason, a solution to the problem of suffering requires that its roots be extricated at multiple levels, including those collective levels touched only distantly by classical Buddhism. This would entail developing a keen diagnosis of how these defilements produce collective suffering, and how we can adopt alternative ways of living that would mitigate their harmful impact.

On top of this, I would add the Buddha’s emphasis on generosity and helpfulness to others as a source of happiness; the value he ascribes to the four “immeasurables”—loving-kindness, compassion, altruistic joy, and impartiality; the five precepts [to refrain from (1) killing, (2) lying, (3) stealing, (4) sexual misconduct, and (5) intoxication] with their foundation in avoiding harm to others; and the guidelines he laid down for the monastic Sangha.

Among these last I would highlight the “six principles of harmony and respect”: (1-3) loving-kindness in deed, word, and thought; (4) sharing righteous gains; (5) observing precepts in harmony; and (6) holding views in harmony. Not all these principles can be observed by a whole society in the way they are prescribed for the monastic order, but their underlying intent is sufficient.

In the search for an ethically based politics the figure of the “wheel-turning king” can serve as a model—the king who rules righteously for the good of all in his realm, including the birds and beasts. This last point is critical, for the way we treat our “fellow passengers” is morally atrocious. Historically, King Asoka, as revealed in his edicts, comes closest to exemplifying the ideal of the wheel-turning king. And of course there is the figure of the bodhisattva, who vows to liberate countless beings from suffering. If this meant only teaching them to train their minds, without also transforming oppressive social systems, that would strike me as a big omission.

Some people balk at the idea of Buddhist leaders and organizations speaking out on issues like climate change or wealth inequality. Do see a difference between taking a stand on such issues and politicizing the Dharma? Where is that line, if there is one?

In my opinion such issues as climate change, social injustice, and glaring economic inequality are moral issues as much as political ones. These issues certainly have political ramifications, which means that politics becomes a domain in which contending moral visions are played out and where collective problems have to be tackled in their moral dimensions.

I would hold that Buddhist leaders and organizations who avoid speaking about such issues from fear that they would be “tainting the Dharma,” or “mixing up spirituality with worldly affairs,” would be reneging on their obligation, which is to illuminate these momentous problems from a Buddhist moral perspective.

At the same time, I believe that it degrades the dignity of the Dharma for Buddhist leaders, in their role as Buddhist leaders, to become embroiled in partisan politics, that is, to align themselves and their organizations with a particular political party or campaign for a specific candidate.

Of course, lay Buddhist leaders are entitled to engage in such activities in a private capacity; but as representing Buddhism, they should observe restraint. For monks and nuns, who represent the Dharma in everything they do, partisan political affiliations would be unseemly. But this does not mean that monastics should not speak out about political issues. It means rather that they should treat these issues in terms of their moral implications.

I’ve been puzzled, actually, to learn how seldom Buddhist teachers speak about these global and ethnic conflict, social justice, or environmental sustainability. Just recently I spent three weeks in California, where I gave lectures both in Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay area. In these lectures I spoke about our responsibility, as Buddhists, to respond to the towering ethical challenges posed by U.S. militarism, economic injustice, and global warming. Several times, after my lectures, people in the audience came up to me and told me how refreshing it was to hear a Buddhist teacher speak on these topics. This, they said, was something they rarely if ever heard from their own teachers, and they appreciated getting some moral clarity on these matters from a Buddhist monk.

This kind of response seemed to confirm my intuitive sense that Buddhism in the U.S. is being taught mainly as a personal path of inner spiritual growth only tangentially relevant to our lives as national and global citizens.

Finally, I’m curious: you’ve talked in interviews about your online news reading. What news sources do you regularly read? 

I normally look at several alternative news sources and commentaries. I follow Democracy Now! almost daily—though I don’t watch all segments every day. I also read Common Dreams, Truthout, AlterNet, TomDispatch, and Climate Progress. The commentators that I most appreciate are Amy Goodman, Glenn Greenwald on justice issues, Chris Hedges as a social and political analyst, Tom Engelhardt on militarism, Henry Giroux as a social analyst and educator, Vandana Shiva and the GRAIN website on food issues, and Joe Romm and Bill McKibben on climate change.

This article appeared at Religion Dispatches on 19 February 2013.

Marisa Egerstrom: Organizer, Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation

Marisa Egerstrom (photo credit: Osagyefo Sekou)

Marisa Egerstrom (photo credit: Osagyefo Sekou)

THERE WAS AN INFECTIOUS RESTLESSNESS in the air as Marisa Egerstrom climbed the bandstand at Boston Common to address the 300-strong crowd at Occupy Boston’s first general assembly. Egerstrom and fellow faith activists from Boston—they called themselves the Protest Chaplains—had just come from the first days of Occupy Wall Street. A week later Occupy Boston would set up its own camp in Dewey Square.

Egerstrom spoke at length with Spare Change News about Occupy Boston, the spread of the Protest Chaplains, and her ongoing work to bridge communities of faith and communities of protest.

SCN: You’ve told me that before you came to Harvard to start your Ph.D. you had grown disillusioned with Christianity over your church’s stance on the war in Iraq. Is that right?

ME: Oh yeah. Well, it wasn’t even a stance. They stopped praying for peace because that was too partisan. Because apparently the idea of peace offended the war hawks. Unbelievable. I mean, it was 2003, it wasn’t the first two weeks after 9/11, when everyone was still reacting from raw emotion.

And that was really the last straw. The idea that God wanted people at war simply made no sense to me. The idea that we had to let the bloodthirsty define God for the rest of us—that went deeper than ideology. That undermined everything I understood about who God was, who Jesus was.

So I left. I was so heartbroken and confused. I looked around for a while but it seemed then that Catholics only cared that somebody might be having an abortion somewhere and the liberal Protestants couldn’t stop self-congratulating about the fact they recycled.

SCN: Tell me about how you found your way back into the Church and got involved with Episcopalianism.

ME: [laughs] Oh boy. Well, it’s still kind of a mystery to me. The second semester of my Ph.D. program was a profound, horrible, terrifying, humiliating spiritual crisis. Nobody knows why these things happen. I could point to this or that, but the truth is I don’t know. Maybe it was purely God’s unilateral assault, I have no idea. But I found myself intolerably aching for silence and worship.

I started hanging around the Society of St. John the Evangelist monastery in Cambridge. Being in that holy space and hearing chant shattered something. I fell into prayer even though I hadn’t prayed in years. I absolutely broke down. For weeks and months. I don’t know how I kept up coursework, but I did.

I was, and still am, ferociously determined to reverse the hostile takeover of Christian speech and practice by the Religious Right. I was trying to figure out what I was doing, what was salvageable of the plans I had made for my life, and being drawn deeper into a contemplative rhythm of living.

One day in August I was watching Twitter to see what was happening on the ground in Libya. That’s when I saw the #occupywallstreet hashtag. I got really excited, because that was the change in tactics we had all talked about needing after the anti-war and anti-globalization protests fizzled in San Francisco. And I liked that we were taking cues from the Arab Spring and from the Indignados in Spain.

Then this insane sort of vision struck me: half prank, half legit Christian witness, a really earnest, theologically sound culture jam. When I bounced it off other people, they actually thought it was a good idea. So that’s how the Protest Chaplains began. We thought it was going to be a one-day thing, honestly.

SCN: How did the Protest Chaplains meme spread?

ME: It was after the Brooklyn Bridge mass arrests broke the media blackout. After the blackout lifted, the religion beats at various outlets all started looking for the religion story within the OWS story. At that point, we were it. It was a smaller Christian online magazine that “broke” it. That made us Google-able, basically. And then, dear God, the onslaught.

CNN’s religion blog asked me to write a piece. So I cranked one out with the help of a couple of other chaplains and turned up the volume as high as I thought I could get away with. Then everything went crazy. For a couple of weeks I was giving two or three interviews a day. We got a couple of thousand emails on the Protest Chaplain account.

Everyone wanted to do something in their own city. We wrote up everything we learned from the first day and the first week of Occupy Boston and said, “Here’s what we know. Do what makes sense in your camp.” The last time I counted I think there were seventeen local spin-offs.

SCN: What have you been doing since with Epsicopalians for Global Reconciliation?

ME: Last winter EGR hired me to develop a domestic economic inequality project. Our co-chair, Dr. John Hammock, and I began visiting churches to facilitate parish discussions on economic inequality. That led to a campaign to get a Move Your Money resolution passed in the Diocese of Massachusetts, which is one of the largest dioceses in the Episcopal Church.

So we had a kickoff procession and Eucharist at the end of October, which Spare Change News covered. The following weekend we had a huge parliamentary debate at our diocesan legislative convention, and we actually passed a resolution calling for the whole diocese to move money to local banks and credit unions.

So now EPGR is compiling resources for helping parishes fulfill that resolution. We’re also setting up partnerships with other local economic justice organizations to host Economic Liberation workshops. We’re going to hold workshops in churches on everything from basic financial literacy to getting out of credit card debt to socially responsible investing. It’s very grassroots, community-building, empowering stuff. We’re also trying to put together a spring summit: The Role of the Church in Economic Inequality, which will bring together scholars, activists, and church leaders to examine and strategize what we can do to free all of God’s beloved children from debt, hopelessness, and poverty.

This article appeared in the 11 January 2013 issue of Spare Change News.

Let’s Talk: It’s Time to Open Our Doors

The winter 2012 issue of Buddhadharma: The Practitioner's Quarterly

The winter 2012 issue of Buddhadharma: The Practitioner’s Quarterly

I SPENT THE YEAR AFTER COLLEGE in an AmeriCorps program that placed me in the Task Force for the Homeless in downtown Atlanta, Georgia. During my time there I served at several different transitional homes, emergency shelters, and soup kitchens. It was the end of a string of social-service work for me, which started several years earlier with volunteering at a Latino community center next to my college campus. I spent the summer before my senior year living in an intentional community that provides homeless services in Boston. Then I went to St. Bernard Parish, Louisiana, on my last spring break to prepare meals for victims of Hurricane Katrina.

During this time I was struck by the fact that all of the social-service groups I served with were dependent on organized religion for support. Many of the soup kitchens were housed in church basements, and almost all of the emergency shelters relied on various church groups to come in and cook a meal once or twice a month. A Hindu group took over two whole shifts a month at the soup kitchen where I lived and served in Boston.

I was also struck by how absent my own religious communities seemed to be. I’ve never visited a Buddhist center that hosts outside community groups or one whose members regularly volunteer together outside their center. An
acquaintance who spent a year serving in New Orleans after Katrina once asked me, “Why is it that Buddhists are always talking about compassion but they’re the only group I’ve never seen volunteer down here?”

More important than volunteers, religious institutions provide public spaces. When Occupy
camps were evicted from public parks and squares this past winter, it was churches that opened their doors to homeless occupiers and general assemblies. Churches and synagogues have long provided space for scout troops, AA groups, and community meetings, as well as offices for small nonprofits and housing for disaster-relief volunteers. They’re also polling places. And many even provide free space to other religious groups that can’t afford to meet elsewhere. The public spaces religious institutions provide are an invaluable part of America’s civic life.

It probably won’t surprise anyone to hear that these institutions are declining in membership. Every indicator of traditional religious identity is going down, while “unaffiliated” is the fastest-growing religious identity in the country. As more and more churches are converted into upscale lofts, where does that leave the nonprofits and Scout troops and popular movements that depend on them? The other traditional alternative is public schools and universities, but budget cuts have left them decimated. Those that haven’t already closed are less and less willing to provide their space free of charge.

What if Buddhist centers and meditation groups opened their doors and let civil society in? Buddhist thinkers have long thought that public spaces are a necessary part of a just society. For example, the Indian poet Asvaghosa (80–150 AD) goes into elaborate detail when describing the many beautiful public spaces the Buddha’s
father—the model of a righteous king—built after his son’s birth. The Indian philosopher Nagarjuna (150–250 AD) and the famous Indian emperor Ashoka (304–232 BC) also tell kings to build public spaces, mentioning them in the same breath as monasteries and temples. The tradition is clear: Good kings build and maintain
public spaces for their citizens. In a democracy that duty falls to us.

With traditional religious institutions shutting their doors it’s time we opened ours. Buddhist centers and meditation groups cannot possibly hope to fill the gap that churches and synagogues are leaving in America’s civic life, but we can still make a difference in our communities. Remember my acquaintance in New Orleans who asked why Buddhists were always talking about compassion but weren’t doing anything? It’s up to us to prove him wrong.

This article appeared in the winter 2012 issue of Buddhadharma: The Practitioner’s Quarterly.

Awakening Wednesday: Mitt Romney, the Buddha, and the 47 Percent

Mitt Romney

Mitt Romney

ON September 17 Mother Jones released secret video taken at a Romney fundraiser. In one of the most widely-publicized quotes from the video, Romney discusses the 47 percent of Americans who, either through deductions or low income, pay no income taxes:

There are 47 percent of the people who will vote for the president no matter what. All right, there are 47 percent who are with him, who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe the government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you-name-it. That, that’s an entitlement. And the government should give it to them. And they will vote for this president no matter what . . . . These are people who pay no income tax.

The idea that those who fall below the taxable income ought to be paying income taxes has gained increasing traction in conservative circles lately. It’s grounded in the idea that poor people are leeches on society—that they take from the hard-working, creative, and responsible upper classes without contributing anything themselves. And that’s an idea that’s gained more and more currency in both political parties since the Reagan Administration. (Think of Clinton campaigning for welfare reform on the spectre of welfare queens or Obama fretting that mortgage adjustments might go to the undeserving.)

There are a lot of discussions of wealth, poverty, and taxation in traditional Buddhist teachings, including some from the Buddha himself, that speak directly to this issue. Here’s one I especially like, from Commentary on the Way of a King by Jamgön Mipham Gyatso (1846 – 1912), as translated by Lauran Hartley at Columbia University:

If one doesn’t collect taxes that are reasonable,
and doesn’t take equally from the rich and poor
according to their situation, is that just?
From all subjects who pay taxes
take in accord with their land,
the season, and their wealth, without harming their home.
Do not burden them unbearably;
Like a cow eating grass,
one shouldn’t destroy the roots.

To me, Mipham’s basic principles seem like a sound foundation for tax policy: (1) People should be taxed in accordance with their income; (2) taxes should be taken from surplus income, not from the money that people need to survive, and they shouldn’t harm their ability to make a living or discourage capital investments; and (3) taxes should take outside circumstances and variables into account.

Mipham still leaves a lot of room to quibble about the details, but I think he lays out some solid principles to help point us in the right direction. And he clearly refutes the narrative that the poor are simply leeches who need to start paying their fair share.

Coming from Georgia, I know better than to graze cattle in a pasture that’s struggling; you’ve got to give the grass the right conditions to grow first. Let’s start talking about how to grow that grass higher instead to how to chop it down before it’s had a chance.

Awakening Wednesday: Buddhism and Worker Rights

"Jige Kanshin, a blind Zen Buddhist monk, leads a picket line in front of a Denver Goodwill store Aug. 25. Photo by Jennifer Smith."

“Jige Kanshin, a blind Zen Buddhist monk, leads a picket line in front of a Denver Goodwill store Aug. 25. Photo by Jennifer Smith.”

IN HONOR of Labor Day, which was this past Monday, I’ve decided to post a collection of Buddhist teachings on worker rights I put together last year.

Quotes from the Buddha

Our first quote from the Buddha (c. 400 – 486 BCE) is found in the Kutadanta sutta (Digha nikaya 5), a major text for thinking about Buddhism and social justice:

Let your majesty give food and seed to anyone in your realm who devotes themselves to keeping cattle and to farming. Let your majesty give capital to anyone in your realm who devotes themselves to trade. Let your majesty give wages and food to anyone in your realm who devotes themselves to government service. Then those men—each following their own business—will no longer harass the realm, the king’s revenue will go up, the country will be quiet and at peace, and the populace will dwell with open doors, happy and pleased with one another, dancing their children in their arms.

The second comes from one of my favorites—the Sigalovada sutta (Digha nikaya 31), in which the Buddha councils a rich young merchant on how to live a good lay life:

In five ways should an employer respect workers and servants . . . : (1) by allocating work according to their aptitude; (2) by providing them with wages and food; (3) by looking after them when they are sick; (4) by sharing special treats with them; and (5) by giving them reasonable time off work.

So respected, workers and servants reciprocate with compassion in five ways: (1) by being willing to start early and (2) finish late when necessary; (3) by taking only what their employer gives them; (4) by doing their work well; and (5) by promoting their employer’s good reputation.

Next is a quote from the Aputtaka sutta (Sutta nipata 3.19). Its reference to slaves is obviously horrifying. It could be that the Buddha uncritically accepted slavery; however, this could also be an issue with the translation. I haven’t done much research on Buddhism and slavery to see what the Buddha says about it in other places, but it’s well worth looking into:

When a person of integrity acquires lavish wealth, he provides for his own pleasure and satisfaction; for the pleasure and satisfaction of his parents; for the pleasure and satisfaction of his wife and children; for the pleasure and satisfaction of his slaves, servants, and assistants; and for the pleasure and satisfaction of his friends. He gives support to priests and contemplatives that results in happiness and leads to heaven. When his wealth is put to proper use, the government doesn’t make off with it, thieves don’t make off with it, fire doesn’t burn it, water doesn’t sweep it away, and hateful heirs don’t make off with it. So his wealth goes to good use and is not wasted.

Finally, here’s a really short but incredibly moving quote from the Parabhava sutta (Sutta nipata 1.6):

To have much wealth and ample gold and food, but to enjoy one’s luxuries alone—this is a cause of one’s downfall.

Quotes from Others

First is a quote from the Thirteenth Dalai Lama, Thubten Gyatso (1876 – 1933 CE), taken from a sermon given at the Great Prayer Festival in the Tibetan capital of Lhasa:

People who make religious images and print spiritual books should do so out of a pure motivations. As professionals they should make a reasonable living from their time and efforts, but their attitude should be to bring benefit to people and not merely to make a large profit. From our side we should take care that the artifacts we acquire are purchased from sincere people.

Lastly is another very moving quote, this one from Sanitsuda Ekachai, assistant editor at the Bangkok Post. It was written just last year:

It is not that we do not know about the plight of migrant workers. It is because we do not care. More importantly, it is because many people are making money from this inhumanity.

Who we are is largely determined by how we relate to others, and to our ideals. If we have no second thoughts about hurting the weak even on Buddhist holy days, we should use the upcoming Macha Bucha Day to seriously consider whether we can still call ourselves Buddhists.

It isn’t just in Thailand that people profit off the plight of workers. Indeed, our entire economy is largely based on this type of exploitation. We’d probably all be well-served to ask to what extent we can still claim the teachings of the Buddha—and, as the example about slavery above shows, to what extent they can still claim us.

Notes from Gasland by Farhad Ebrahimi

Illegally mislabeled tanks containing God-knows-what at a fracking site, taken by Farhad Ebrahimi.

Illegally mislabeled tanks containing God-knows-what at a fracking site, taken by Farhad Ebrahimi.

MY FRIEND and fellow Occupy Boston alumnus Farhad Ebrahimi (@yahktoe)—who's also a pretty amazing environmental funder—recently visited a community affected by hydraulic fracturing, or fracking. Later he posted a really moving set of tweets about the things he saw and the people he talked to. I defy anyone to read them and not feel sheer outrage that any company could destroy people's lives this way for nothing but money:

Passion Is Not Payment: Why Creatives and Intellectuals Deserve Decent Pay

Will Work for Pay

Will Work for Pay

LAST week I tweeted about unpaid internships, free blogging, and the general idea that people in creative or social service jobs should work for the love of what their doing rather than (not in addition to) decent pay and benefits. My tweets got a really great response and generated a lot of really interesting conversation. Here's the thread:

Coming Out of the Debt Closet: Others’ Stories

Student Debt

Student Debt

I JUST posted a Twitter thread where I talk about my personal struggles with student and credit card debt—and asked others to share their stories. Below are some responses from people who took up that challenge:














Coming Out of the Debt Closet: My Story

The  "Master of Degrees" strikes a pose

The “Master of Degrees” strikes a pose

LAST week I came out to my 1000 some-odd Twitter followers as a delinquent debtor. I’m not really that delinquent—I’m two weeks behind in one credit card payment—but it’s still extremely personal. And I still had to build up a lot of courage to do it.

There are two main points I was trying to make. The first is that—as activists, writers, journalists, and intellectuals—we shouldn’t waste experiences like this. No life is private; we all live embedded in legal frameworks, political systems, histories, economies, and social structures. We’ve got to point those out to people. Otherwise things like debt become personal tragedies and not social problems. We’ve got to let people know we’re in this together, because they often cannot bear it on their own.

The second is that we need to break the shame and stigma around financial hardship. People aren’t going to let go of their narrow prejudices about people who experience financial hardship unless they learn those people are their friends, relatives, neighbors, partners, children, and loved ones. And hardship is always easier when it isn’t borne in isolation.

Enough explanation. Here’s the thread:



















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