Bhante Sujato's Articles on Lions Roar

In too many Buddhist communities, women have not been believed when revealing harm caused by men. Bhikkhu Sujato looks to the Vinaya and finds another approach. People come to community because they are suffering. They are looking for comfort and healing; they join in community to lift each other up, to give each other strength, to believe in each other when they can no longer believe in themselves. A spiritual community is nothing if it cannot take care of its most vulnerable. Unfortunately, communities sometimes fail. There are too many cases in which spiritual leaders—whether monastics, teachers, or supposedly enlightened gurus—have abused their position, taking advantage of the very people they are meant to protect. Sexual violations within a community are especially damaging, as for some, it is the one place that is seen as pure and safe in a corrupt and dangerous world. If even here is fraught with abuse, what hope to find sanctuary anywhere else? One of the tragedies of sexual assault is how hard it is for survivors to find justice. They suffer terrible trauma, only to undergo a second trauma at the hands of the justice system. They know there is only a small chance of bringing their abusers to justice, and yet if they say nothing, they live with the knowledge that their abusers are still out there and, in all likelihood, harming others. It is critical, then, that every Buddhist community, whether the traditional monastic sangha or contemporary lay-centered groups, have an explicit and responsible procedure for dealing with sexual abuse within their walls. Assume that it is not a matter of if but when. And in monastic communities, it is essential to support the order of fully ordained women (bhikkhuni). Without them, the monks have no female peers, no sisters and equals to stand up for women and call monks out on their blind spots. The principles laid down by the Buddha for addressing sexual misconduct were strikingly progressive, though they sometimes seem to have been honored more in the breach than the observance. It is worth taking some time to understand these procedures, which are relevant both as rules for monastics and as examples for lay communities. Sexual assault or harassment is frequently discussed in the Vinaya, the Buddhist monastic codes. There are several Vinayas in existence, each of which can trace its origins back to the time of the Buddha. They share a core of rules and procedures, but the explanations and stories differ somewhat, as they were settled and organized in the few centuries following the Buddha’s life. Each represents a historical school of Buddhism in India, only three of which survive and are practiced today: the Theravada Vinaya in Pali, the Dharmaguptaka Vinaya in Chinese translation, and the Mulasarvastivada Vinaya in Tibetan translation. While variations reflect the fact that these texts were the products of communities in different schools or traditions, the basic rules are common among all the traditions and must stem from the earliest community. The Buddha took an active part in guiding the monastic communities—but perhaps not how you think. If you are expecting a system of hierarchical control and unquestioning obedience to the teacher, then the Buddha has some surprises in store for you. The Vinaya texts organize the sangha as an anarchist collective: consensus decision making, property held in common, full community participation, and no power of command or hierarchical authority. Even in a student–teacher relationship, the student is explicitly instructed to disobey the teacher if they ask them to do something that is against the Dhamma. Crucially, there is no assumption of male superiority, nor any allowance for monks to give any commands to nuns at all, in any context. Nuns ran their own lives, and apart from a few points of procedure, were entirely independent of the monks. When an accusation is made against a male monastic, there is a strong presumption of innocence—in most cases, a monastic can only be found guilty of an offense if they confess. And it is that last point that is especially relevant here. It is the old problem of sexual assault: who do we believe? The order of nuns was established after that of monks, and in some ways is positioned as an adjunct to the male sangha; for example, the nuns inherit many of the monks’ rules. While modern Buddhist apologists for patriarchy use this to undermine women’s ordination, it is under-appreciated how much the rules of the Vinaya protect women. Sometimes it is the simple things—monks are prohibited, for example, from getting nuns to do their laundry, and are restricted in accepting their alms-food. Today, however, in Buddhist communities where full ordination for women is opposed, it is common to find nuns spending much of their day in the laundry or cooking food. When monastic women are stripped of the protections offered by the Vinaya, the patriarchy reasserts itself, prioritizing the needs of men. It takes women out of the meditation hall or Dhamma seat and puts them literally back in the kitchen. The #MeToo movement has highlighted both the horrifying prevalence of sexual assault and the critical importance of believing women. This is especially important when dealing with an organized patriarchal institution. Under patriarchy, men monopolize real estate and physical assets while arrogating moral superiority and infallibility. When accused, the institution falls behind the man, arguing that its own existence is more important than the lives of women. We have seen this happen countless times: in Hollywood and the music business, in sports and colleges, in families and churches, in the highest courts and parliaments, even in the White House. Buddhist centers are no different. So long as power is concentrated in the hands of men, the same dynamics will recur. It’s only a matter of time. This situation is dealt with in the Vinaya through two special rules called Aniyata, which means “uncertain, undecided.” These rules only apply in the case of accusations against monks by women and require that the male sangha take such accusations seriously. The “uncertainty” here refers to the proper way of dealing with an accusation. Unlike other rules, which dictate that a certain transgression demands a certain response, here the sangha must first determine the nature of the transgression. The two Aniyata rules are similar; the second merely has a narrower scope, and I’ll pass over it here. Here’s the first: Suppose a monk were to sit alone with a woman in a private and concealed place convenient for having sex. And suppose a trustworthy laywoman, seeing him, were to accuse him of one of three offenses, either [sexual intercourse] entailing expulsion, [sexual contact or lewd speech] entailing suspension, or [dubious intentions] entailing confession. The mendicant who admits sitting in this way must be dealt with according to whichever one of these three offences applies, or according to what the trustworthy laywoman has said. This rule is undetermined [aniyata]. Like all Vinaya rules, this was prompted by a specific circumstance and deals with a narrow range of cases. It is not meant to be a complete policy. Nevertheless, it does raise a range of relevant issues. The responsibility is unquestionably on the monk. There is no hint that the woman who is sexually involved is in any way culpable, nor is the accuser. This, of course, stands in rather stark contrast with contemporary cases, in which the character and morality of the women involved immediately comes under scrutiny and attack. There is no “boys will be boys”; he is an adult and must take responsibility for his actions. Also, there is no question of protecting the institution by a cover-up or denial. The Buddha understood that an institution is served by truth and accountability. As this is a case dealing with a vowed celibate, any sexual behavior is out of bounds. In broader context, the problem is nonconsensual or otherwise inappropriate misconduct. While consent does not come up in this rule, in the Vinaya it is a central component of sexual morality, the dividing line that marks an action as assault. In a spiritual community, moreover, the relation between a monastic or teacher and student is not equal, and the very possibility of consent becomes blurred. Much like a relationship between an employer and employee, or therapist and client, things get messy fast. Even if the teacher is not a celibate monastic, such unequal relationships are wide open to manipulation and abuse and should be completely avoided. Another striking phrase here is the idea of a “trustworthy” laywoman. The Pali is saddheyyavacasa, literally “whose words are believable.” The rule thus places believing women at its core. And this gets to the heart of the he-said-she-said problem. What exactly does “trustworthy” mean here? It is not a technical term, so it should be read as an ordinary-language phrase. In other words, it means just what it seems to mean: someone whose testimony is reliable. But how are we to know who is trustworthy? In the background story, the monk Udayin visited a family he knew well and found that the daughter had been recently married. He went to see her in her bedroom and sat chatting with her in private. The laywoman Visakha also happened to visit the family, and she called out Udayin on his inappropriate behavior. She was a prominent member of the community, well-known to the Buddha and the sangha, so clearly she was regarded as trustworthy. But not every woman is so well-known in the community. What then? Where lies the burden of belief when a woman accuses a man of sexual transgression? For the man’s part, that’s easy: when accused, men will almost always deny it, implying the woman is lying. Thus a man’s denial is of little weight. The Vinaya’s Aniyata rules apply in the case of accusations against monks by women and require that the male sangha take...

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