Though it is not definitive whether nature
as an environmental concept is clearly defined in Buddhist canonical
literature, we can affirm that it is a real aspect of the Buddhist totality of
existence, a part of the vast, mysterious, and multi-leveled loka. The
lack of definitiveness, moreover, does not necessarily hinder us from
conceiving of nature as something real and existent in the world (as our
empirical experience clearly proves this existence), thus allowing for us to
enter into relationship with nature in creative and mutually enriching ways.
What is important for us to do is to find out whether Buddhist teachings
facilitate the formation of such a relationship, and what kind of links
Buddhism provides for connecting human beings to nature.
A look at the Buddhist cosmogony, I
believe, provides us with some inspiration on how to envision our relationship
to the natural world around us. In the Buddhist conception of the universe,
human beings and other beings form separate entities, which have co-existed
since beginningless time and will continue to co-exist for much longer to
come. Moreover, they are only part of a
cosmological continuum that includes a total of six realms making up saṃsāra.
According to Ian Harris, saṃsāra
denotes the
totality of sentient beings (sattvaloka) caught in the round of life
after life, although it may also encompass those parts of the cosmos that fall
below the level of sentience and, as such, act as the stage or receptacle (bhajanaloka)
on which the beginningless cycle of life on life unfolds.[1]
In this saṃsāra, the cycle of
rebirth results in sentient beings ending up in one of the six realms – the god
realm, the demi-god realm, the human realm, the hungry ghosts realm, the animal
realm, and the hell realm. Animals belong to the realm that is only less unfortunate
than the hell realm, and human beings are only less fortunate than the
demi-gods. However, existence in none of these realms is permanent, and even if
one has an auspicious birth as a god, he will eventually be reborn into a lower
realm when all of his good kamma has been exhausted. In reality, the six
realms are essentially rough categories because in each of them, there is a
wide range of states of life. The heavenly realm alone is stratified into
numerous levels inhabited by various types of gods and celestial beings.[2]
As for the animal realm, not all the creatures suffer in the same degree, just
as not all human beings have the same degree of joy. Our empirical experience
easily informs us of the numerous states of life even within the human
population, revealing the vast diversity of human existence. We witness a wide
range of circumstances, from the extremes of wealth and poverty to the
variations in health, education, and social status. This diversity illustrates
the concept of saṃsāra on a smaller scale, highlighting the different
forms of suffering and satisfaction experienced by individuals. Moreover, all
these realms are penetrable because at any moment, a being can migrate to a
different realm than the one in which it presently finds itself. However, few
are reborn as gods and humans compared to the vast number finding their rebirth
in the lower worlds or in the plane of misery.[3]
What we can envision then is that the
Buddhist saṃsāra presents us with a picture of all the beings in the
world linked together in the circle of rebirth and none of the states of life
exists in isolation of one another. The
human realm, though more joyful than the animal realm is but an intermediate on
the way to attaining nibbāna. And animals, although born in a realm
characterized by much suffering and anguish, also travel on the exact same
path, albeit a much longer and more strenuous one. Still, it is undeniable that being born in
the human realm is preferable since it presents a greater opportunity for
spiritual advancement and emancipation.
While plants were not included in the
category of “animate beings” (pāṇa) trees were
considered to be single facultied life forms.[4]
Lambert Schmithausen in his exhaustive study of canonical texts, concludes that
plants and seeds were “probably regarded as a kind of borderline case, on the
boundary between sentient and insentient beings” (Schmithausen, 2009, p.29).
This justifies why plants were often included as objects of the mental attitude
of benevolence to be developed, and monks were explicitly forbidden to injure
plants and seeds.
In the Suttas, not much discussion can be
found on material entities such as mountains and seas. More often, they are
discussed in terms of the four elements (earth, water, fire, and air) of which
they are composed.[5]
In this sense, the Buddha did not deny the actual existence of the material
world in the form of various elements. These elements, according to the Buddha,
were impermanent, which confirms their existence because impermanence implied
the passing away of something that actually existed.[6]
We can infer that even though plants and the material environment were excluded
from the six realms of existence because they either lacked sentience or the
required degree of sentience, they still remained a part of the natural
phenomena that took place within the universe. Because Buddhism focused on the
reality of the existence of sentient beings in saṃsāra and how they
could achieve emancipation from the cycle of rebirth when they are born as
human beings, the kind of attention on non-sentient nature that we would like
to have is not easily found.
In the Suttas, the Buddha on numerous
occasions refused to answer questions that he felt was not beneficial to the
goal of cessation of suffering.[7]
Instead, he often reminded his listeners that his goal was “for the
purification of beings, for the overcoming of sorrow and lamentation, for the
passing away of pain and dejection, for the achievement of the method, for the
realization of nibbāna.”[8]
Nonetheless, there is nothing to deny that plants and other natural material
entities were recognized as part of the Buddhist loka. They can also be
considered, as Harris pointed out, to be the stage upon which life drama of
sentient beings are played out.
[1] Harris, "Buddhism and the Discourse of Environmental Concern,”
381.
[2] A.I.206; A.III.285; A.IV.242
[3] A.I.37.
[4] Ian Harris, “How Environmentalist Is Buddhism?” Religion
21 (1991): 107.
[5]
Pragati Sahni, Environmental Ethics in Buddhism: A Virtues Approach (New
York: Routledge, 2007), 54.
[6] Sahni, Environmental Ethics in Buddhism, 55.
[7] A.IV.68.
[8] A.III.392.
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