Au Revoir Paris...

Today, after a break during which I spent some time in the UK and some in Spain, I find myself enjoying a coffee at the almost ubiquitous Starbucks. Normally, I am not a great fan of this particular multi-national, but being in central Paris, and finding the cafes in the Avenue Champs Elysee itself wanting to charge seven euros fifty for a tiny cup of coffee, I chose to put my normal objections on hold and enjoy a long Americano in their outlet in the Arcade Champs Elysee. Truth be told, this place has a rather impressively grandiose interior, with ionic columns in marble supporting a mock vaulted roof. For me, it evokes images of the original flaneurs who would have haunted these very halls well over a century ago now.
This is my first visit to Paris for around 20 years or so. The demographic changes in that time are stark indeed. It is almost as if the centre of this once great metropolis has been all but abandoned to another culture, one that has little sympathy for, or understanding of, the history of this fantastic city.

Before arriving in Paris, the previous few days had been spent deep in the Normandy countryside in a tiny, one bedroom gite just to the west of Falaise. The contrast between rural, small town France which barely seems to have changed at all, and the capital, is huge. The borgoisie seem more discretely charming than ever in the villages, towns and smaller cities such as Caen, Falaise, Flers and Bayeaux. Life seems relatively slow, relaxed and polite in such places. Paris, however, is completely different; fast paced, frenetic, distinctly rude and often more than a little dangerous.
Much the same difference can be seen in Britain where London seems to be in the process of becoming a distant satellite of the UK in general, as are some of the other larger cities. The distance in politics, philosophy and outlook is vast and ever widening. Witness such occurrences as last year’s EU referendum – the people away from the larger urban conurbations voted emphatically for leave, those within them just as emphatically for remain.
Twenty years ago one espied the odd armed gendarme as one wandered along the boulevards of Paris. Now armed police, and even soldiers, are to be seen everywhere. Just recently, two policemen were attacked by a machete wielding fanatic on the Champs Elysee itself, not far from this very spot. Reading the BBC news today, a similar incident occurred in Brussels last night where fortunately the terrorist was promptly dispatched, though not before injuring two policemen, and a further incident was reported to have occurred just outside Buckingham Palace.
And so it goes on. Small incidents, followed by larger incidents, random sacrifices made to a random god. It speaks ill of man’s credulity that so many can still believe in the vacuous nonsense that inspired these attacks in the 21st century. For this rather liberal flaneur though, what is really unforgivable is the wish supporters of this particular superstition have to forcibly impose such a palpably illogical, unscientific and, in all honesty, ignorant view of the world on others.

The philosopher Karl Popper once pointed out the paradox of tolerance. If you extend that tolerance too far you end up tolerating the intolerant, thereby killing tolerance itself. We seem, through a mixture of pesonal, moral and political cowardice, to have gone a long way down that particular road now, each concession to the intolerant leading to the demand for yet more concessions.

Fortunately, there are still parts of Paris that retain much the same charm as ever. Strolling around Montmartre one still comes across the artists, the writers, the bon viveurs and the simply joyous, although admittedly the hordes of tourists are beginning to erode the authenticity of the place, but such is modern life. For now, at least, Montmartre’s charm still attracts enough of the creatives, the eccentrics and the downright weird to make life interesting.
It is now nearly ten p.m., and a pleasant young man has informed me that Starbucks will be closing in ten minutes. I quickly finish off my coffee and swallow the last of the customary glass of water that I like to accompany it with. I wonder if this will be my last evening in Paris. I have spent quite a few here in the past but...that was a Paris that has slithered slowly into history now. The city of the Enlightenment, of the birth of liberal democracy, of the Revolution, of Bonaparte, of Jean Paul Sartre, of Simone de Beauvoir, of Jean Jacques Rousseau, of the dadaists, of the surrealists, of Ernest Hemingway, Gertude Stein and F. Scott Fitzgerald, of Josephine Baker, Anias Nin and HenryMiller, home of the flaneur, of the intellectually daring and the avant garde, the city that encapsulated the notion of joie de vivre, is all but abandoned to another culture now, a culture that cares little for joy and even less for life.

Au revoir Paris, it was good to know you...

Much Pride, but not too much Sense...

Since my early summer trip to Madrid, this particular nomadic flaneur has not been anything like as nomadic as he would like to be. This is about to be remedied with trips to Zuhai, Dongguan, Saana and Hangzhou planned in the next three months, plus perhaps a jaunt over to Phnom Penh in the new year. Norfolk, where I currently find myself, has proven to be a not unattractive place to spend the English summer though. Huge forests, varied coastlines and an English quaintness which, at times at least, can be quite charming.
The largest city in this area is Norwich, with a staggeringly tiny population of 213,000, a figure that would barely qualify it as a town in China. I have to admit though, that parts of the city are really rather lovely and hark back to previous times of economic influence and a long history as a prosperous, if somewhat diminutive, metropolis. I personally spent several pleasant and interesting days there in the summer and even sampled, as is so often my wont, a variety of the coffee serving hostelries on offer.
On one visit in late July I happened across an interesting phenomenon, quite jolly at one level, quite sinister at another. As I wandered through the market in the centre of the city I became aware of a disproportionate number of outlandishly attired folk of indeterminate gender, wandering around that particular part of town. Hair coloured lime green or purple seemed to be the order of the day, make-up de rigeur (at least if you were male, perhaps not so much on the females) and all manner of sartorial choices the only theme of which seemed to be to engender an ambiguity in relation to gender.

I also noticed that many folk were sporting badges along the lines of 'Gays against Orlando'. A few weeks prior to this mass demonstration there had been a very unpleasant incident in Orlando, Florida where a muslim man of troubled sexuality had burst into a gay night club in the city armed to the teeth with a variety of automatic weapons and proceeded to mow down all and sundry simply because they were likely to be gay in such an establishment. A truly awful incident that seemed, at first glance at least, to speak volumes about America's problems with gun control and more or less the whole planet's problem with radical Islam.
I wandered further up to hill to the street just in front of the town hall. There various speakers were regaling the jolly throng of demonstrators with words of encouragement and support, outrage at the act itself and bemoaning the disrespect of society for the human rights of gay individuals. Most of these words chimed with my own fairly liberal views on such things. As a general rule I believe in the notion of live and let live, as long as said process doesn't unduly impose on another against their will. 

At this point though, I did notice a rather strange phenomenon. Many of the protesters either wore badges or carried placards stating 'Refugees Welcome Here', many of these provided in the yellow and red of the Socialist Workers Party. Generally speaking, the country I currently find myself in (the UK) has a long and distinguished record in its attitude to refugees, something that speaks well for its general tolerance and ability to accommodate all manner of attitudes. The refugees in this particular case though were specifically the wave of Islamic migrants that, due to a very misguided policy, had been flooding into Europe over the course of the previous 18 months. 

 

The idea of supporting an influx of people who shared the very same belief system as the person who perpetuated the awful act in Orlando, and who used it as the justification for said act, seemed to this flaneur to be oddly inconsistent, if not downright contradictory. Here we had a group of people, gay to be precise, urging the mass importation of very significant amounts of people whose belief system very explicitly expresses the notion that all homosexuals should be put to death. There is no ambiguity in this view, no doubt, no room for maneuver, just a crystal clear tenet of the admittedly rather bizarre belief system that is Islam.
Perhaps it is me, but demonstrating to allow a group of people into the country who hate you, who despise everything you stand for and who want you dead seemed to your correspondent to be just a tad, how can I put it, illogical? It was bad enough that the banners mostly originated from the Socialist Workers Party which, when I last checked, was an avowedly atheist party, but the fact that they were being carried by people whose lifestyle is the very antithesis of everything that Islam stands for seemed to be stretching credulity just a bit too far.

I reflected back on the events of that awful night in Orlando. The shooter, one Omar Mateen, was a 29 year old Muslim who, in case their was the slightest doubt, rung 911 three times to inform them that he was carrying out the atrocity in the name of Islam and ISIL. As he carried out his terrible crime he was heard to shout out 'Alluha Akbar' numerous times. His father, as it turned out, had also been something of an apologist for the Taliban and had previously been under surveillance by the American security services, as had Omar Mateen himself.
There seems a strange form of denial occurring in what used to be called the 'liberal media', an almost magical form or reframing events in such a way as to avoid the all too obvious cause and instead pontificate endlessly on about anything else other than the blatantly obvious. The Washington Post indeed, in an article devoted to the Orlando shooting, somehow managed to construct a multi-column piece and not mention the words 'Islam' or 'Muslim' once. One must admire their creativity, if not necessarily their intellectual honesty.

As I watched this oddly deluded demonstration taking place, particularly as I listened to the various speakers on the steps of the town hall, the urge to point out these glaring inconsistencies rose up within me but....given I was but one voice in a crowd that seemed convinced of a contrary view, and given that almost any utterance in such a situation can so easily be defined as a 'hate crime' (the police seem very keen on that particular type of felony in these days of post-referendum Britain), I held my counsel and simply looked on with a somewhat bemused expression on my face.
There are, as some wag once put it, none so blind as those who will not see...

Too many cooks ....or too many crooks?

Today, after a week of temperatures just below 40C, I have chosen to arise early and and write at the small, informal coffee hut attached to the Morning Baan guest house in Kanchanaburi. I have been staying in a small cottage at the side of the guest house for the past few weeks. It is a tad expensive at £60 ($90) a month, plus bills. The bills in question normally come to about £3 a month but I manage to get by anyways. The coffee hut itself offers Nescafe instant, a local brand of decaffeinated coffee and yellow label tea, if one is so inclined, in a completely self-service format. They also supply marmalade and toast, both of which are as much appreciated by the ubiquitous ants as by the customers.

One of the reasons for choosing this particular location, apart from the obvious pecuniary advantages, is its all pervading quietness. The only disturbance experienced is the singing of the birds and the odd scattering of dried up leaves as a lizard runs full-pelt through the detritus, often on its hind legs.

It is a good place to sit and think, and a good place to write. Since publishing last week's effort, events concerning the Dhammakaya temple have become ever more dramatic with claims and counter-claims being bounced back and forth by those involved in the dispute. A former aid to Phra Dammachayo, Mano Laohavanich, has come forward and made scathing criticisms of some of the financial misdoings of the organisations and, in particular, of the leaders themselves. Having made such accusations, he says that he now fears for his life and has asked for appropriate protection. He may well have a point. The connections of Wat Dhammakaya are far-reaching within Thai society, including some high ranking civil and military figures.

Oddly, images from Dhammakaya services somehow remind me of the Neuremberg rallies of Germany in the 1930s, not sure why...

All such shenanigans seem a very long way indeed from anything Gautama Buddha propounded two and a half thousand or so years ago. Dhammakaya seems to be a very status and rank conscious organisation within which, at least according to its critics, position and status is more related by the ability of the devotee to pay for appropriate merit than it is by deeds, character or spiritual attainment. There is also much criticism of the type of 'Buddhism' being taught at Dhammakaya. Mostly, this concerns such things as the ignoring of even such basic Buddhist concepts as non-self (anatta), and the somewhat obsessively materialistic nature of Dhammakaya preachings (to say nothing of the lifestyles of some of those running the organisation).

Perhaps at this point it should be stated that the Thai Buddhists, even those of the Dhammakaya sect, are by no means unusual in this. It seems to be the fate of all human organisations to change, dilute and essentially corrupt whatever system of belief they were originally intending to promote. A couple of examples might suffice to clarify the point. There are many possible of course, this process seeming to be almost ubiquitous in human affairs.

Firstly, in the religious area, we could take the Christian church and the early influence of the Emperor Constantine. Due to political pressures at the time (around CE 325) it became necessary for the Roman empire to try to create a unified church rather than the endless disputes that fractured early Christianity. To this end, the conference of Nicea was called which established the notion of the divinity of Christ, stated which gospels were to be included in the Canon (and perhaps more importantly, which were to be left out), and imbued the nascent Roman church with much power.

Over the centuries since, many schisms have occurred within the church, usually as a result of devotees within perceiving the all too apparent corruption of the status quo and, as a reaction, choosing to establish another Christian order. Within an all too short a period of time though, the same process occurs, and the inevitable corruption sets in. Organisation, in and of itself, and perhaps by its very nature, seems to invariably lead to the misinterpretation, distortion and corruption of whatever message was originally intended to be communicated.

Essentially, if one looks at the history of Buddhism, Islam or any number of other religions, one will find much the same kind of process occurring. As we progress further and further from the source, it seems to be more or less inevitable that the underlying and pure message will become more and more contaminated. As stated last week, if one is interested in a given spiritual view then it seems wiser to go to the source rather than rely on any subsequent interpretations through churches, temples or any other body that involve self-interested men. I would recommend to anyone who is inclined towards such spiritual matters to go to the source, go to the writings or speeches of the originators of these spiritual systems, rather than rely on later interpretations by those within the system who may have had other things on their minds (power, money, influence, etc) than the spiritual advancement of people.

In politics, much the same sort of process occurs with a truly alarming regularity. For a very obvious example, I could cite my own recent visit to China, when it was all too readily apparent that whatever was going on there in the name of communism, it was about as far removed from anything that Marx or Engels would have advocated as one could get.

In the US and the UK in recent years, those inclined towards capitalism and idealistically recommending that 'market forces' be allowed to dictate circumstances suddenly found themselves asking for massive state intervention (policies much closer to socialism or even communism) when they themselves were threatened by a sudden deterioration in the financial situation.

One could go on citing examples almost indefinitely. The process of corruption and misinterpretation are very much the norm once an organisation such as a church, a movement or a party are formed; so much so in fact that I am hard put to think of an exception...

When such widespread and ubiquitous corruption is seen from religions to government, from the so-called forces of law and order to scientific bodies (supposedly ruled by logic but all too often dominated by the usual urges to power or to have influence) it seems small wonder that some give up hope that any such human organisation can ever be free of such urges.

Many people have been struck by such thoughts as these in the past, from the early days of the cynicism of Diogenes of Sinope (famous for barrel living...) and Crates of Thebes, to such relatively modern-day luminaries as Henry David Thoreau and Mikail Bakunin. Often, the response they have recommended comes under the general term of anarchism, a term often misused to imply a state of chaos, but which actually is more concerned with returning the power in organisations, particularly governments, back to the individuals and away from the centre.

Perhaps Thoreau put it most succinctly when he said: "That government is best which governs least". He added, as an afterthought, the clarification: "That government is best which governs not at all!"

Naturally, this attitude can (and maybe should) be applied to many other forms of human organisations, not just government.

Back outside the simple coffee house in the garden of the Morning Baan guesthouse, the sun is reaching its zenith and it is time to seek some kind of escape in a slightly more modern, and hopefully air-conditioned, establishment. Fortunately today, there is a slight breeze coming off the river, rendering the environment just about bearable. Tis a beautiful place, despite the presence of a few timber huts dotted here and there, one is very conscious of being in natural surroundings. It seems that wherever one goes in Kanchanaburi, wherever nature has been allowed to predominate it is invariably rather beautiful. The ugliness only comes when the humans start to interfere...

Heaven Help Us...

The mercury is rising at an alarming rate here in Kanchanaburi in recent weeks. We are reaching that time of year when the hours between one and five are best spent in some place that has air-conditioning as part and parcel of the fixtures and fittings. Thus it is that this week I found myself in the Century cafe at the down-town end of the tourist strip in Kanchanaburi. It is a fairly minimalist affair, simply a glass box with walls on two sides. Furniture is very square, wooden and extremely simple in design. The one nod to comfort is the two-seater settee on which I have ensconced myself.

The presentation of the fayre is rather impressive though. The coffee is served in an elaborate styled yet plain white porcelain cup that swirls elegantly in a clockwise cone, the cup itself supported on a square, wave-form saucer. It is perhaps a little too much of an example of form over function but one has to admit that the presentation is pleasantly pleasing on the eye. Due to the excessive heat of recent weeks, I have taken to enjoying a large smoothie each and every time I indulge in an Americano. The strawberry smoothie I am indulging in today at the Century is one of the best I have tasted in this town. The tendency is to over-sweeten them, but this one seems simpler and a tad more wholesome than most on sale in Kanchanaburi.

Above the counter are a couple of golden figurines, seated in traditional meditation poses. Such Buddhas and similar statuettes are common features of the cafes and restaurants in this country. Almost every minibus, taxi and bus will also have something similar. Given the way Thais normally drive, any divine influence to ensure a safer journey is welcome indeed. They lose massive amounts of people each year to road accidents but, given what is considered 'normal' behaviour on the roads here, the only wonder is that it is so few.

Buddhism here is very much the religion of the people and the Sangha (Buddhist Community) is much respected here. Monks are also given a great deal of deference as a matter of course. Buddhism of itself is a very profound, and in some ways a very beautiful and logical expression of human spirituality. As ever in such situations though, once human beings become involved and start to structure a formal 'religion', the day to day reality becomes further and further removed from the ideas that inspired it. One of the original traditions that one sees re-enacted every day is the collecting of alms by the monks. The saffron clad monks come around every morning, begging bowls in hand, and people give food and other refreshments. It seems though, that of late what is considered reasonable for the monks to collect to sustain them in their roles in life has become more and more liberally interpreted. A friend reported recently sitting next to a Buddhist monk on a station and finding that amongst the sustenance carried in his bag was a bottle of whiskey. Apparently the monk smiled a somewhat sheepish grin when he noticed that the farang sitting next to him was aware of the presence of the whiskey. Who knows, perhaps it was there for spiritual support …

For many years, Buddhism in Thailand was considered the apotheosis of the religion by many, and spiritual seekers from all over the world would come especially for such things as meditation courses, retreats or to spend time in one of the forest monasteries. These days, following a series of scandals and Western visitors observing the reality of Buddhism in Thailand as it is practised day to day, the image of the peaceful and profound religion has become somewhat tarnished.

Presently in Thailand, Theravadan Buddhism is ensnared in any number of scandals and seems to have been taken over, to some extent at least, by some very unethical characters. Some of the 'Buddhists' at the top of the clerical heirarchy seem to live lives that are a long way removed from the material denunciation advocated by the Buddha himself. One recent film that caused something of a stir featured two monks taking a flight in a private jet, the pair still wore the traditional saffron robes but completed the ensemble by sporting Ray Baan sunglasses, and a Louis Vuiton bag had been casually cast aside on a nearby seat.

One monk was recently caught with 120,000 methampthetamine pills whilst another actually managed to get himself dismissed from his temple, a fairly rare feat given the indulgence of the ruling council for such misdeeds, for investing US$1.2 million on the stock market.

Perhaps the biggest controversy of late concerns Wat Dhammakaya, the huge Buddhist temple located just to the North of Bangkok. This particular establishment is run by a Phra Dhammachayo who, according to a recent article in the Bangkok post, loved to look good, used body lotions and cosmetics and was fond of facial massages administered three times a day. A woman was allocated to change his sheets each day. He gets up any time he likes as seems to not feel any obligation to collect alms as is normal for a Buddhist monk. He also has a creative bent, being fond of sculpture and, in particularly, of the female form. Apparently he had, as a youth, some admiration for a variety of powerful historical characters, his particular favourite at the time being one Adolf Hitler ...

This is all very well for the profile of an interesting, if somewhat flawed, character. It hardly seems the profile that would be suitable for a Buddhist monk though or the leader of a particular brand of the religion ('brand' being the operative word it would seem).

During the early years of Dhammakaya, the organisation was beset with financial problems, in particular the disappearance of large amounts of money. Apparently, a fair amount of this money found its way into the personal accounts of Phra Dhammachayo. After an investigation, a substantial quantity of the money was returned to the Sangha, but the process took quite a considerable time. At the same time there were also controversies linked to the ownership of land. Again, these were, to some extent at least, subsequent resolved but again there was quite some delay in the process. Currently, there is an ongoing controversy concerning money laundering and the Dhammakaya organisation. There is an old saying: 'No smoke without fire', in the case of this organisation, there does seem to be an awful lot of smoke...

One of the more controversial aspects of this form of Buddhism is the process of giving donations in order to obtain 'merit'. Having such merit is supposed to be beneficial at a future stage when you reach heaven; having sufficient merit guaranteeing the purchaser a favourable status in the afterlife. This is not unlike the processes used (mis-used?) by the Christian church in Europe for many centuries, and led to many similar problems involving corruption.

Anyone who has any knowledge whatsoever of Buddhism will understand that such teachings are so far removed from anything the Buddha taught as to be completely unrecognisable, or even antithetical to the basic precepts of Buddhist thought.
It seems that the same patterns must repeat themselves again and again, and in many forms. Each time men organise a 'religion' in order to structure spiritual experience the process invariably ends in some form of corruption. We see this again and again in Christianity, in Judaism, in Islam, in Hinduism and sadly in that simplest and most direct of all systems, Buddhism. I would humbly suggest that if one wishes to obtain insight from the great masters and leaders of these systems to simply go to the source, read what the originators themselves said and thought, and avoid the indirect interpretations presented by the various representatives of organised 'religion'.

Troubling thoughts on such a hot day. Fortunately the cafe remains a cool sanctuary, ideal for the purpose of such ruminations. The blog itself has taken a couple of hours now and I am of a mind to dwell on lighter matters. It is still far too hot to think of wandering down the street to The Jolly Frog for a little evening qi-gong exercise, so instead I order another fruit-shake and indulge myself in reading a little Henry Miller (The Tropic of Capricorn – highly recommended!). Oddly, there seems more direct, and even spiritual, insights to be had in this much-banned book than in many a prognostication out of the mouths of priests, monks, mullahs and rabbis.