Taming a Killer and placating a King: Buddhist Friendship and (Non)violence

I propose to present a paper on the role of friendship in the story of Aṅgulimāla, a vicious murderer/brigand who, subdued by the Buddha, renounces his outlaw ways to become a bhikkhu (monk). According to the story recounted in the Aṅgulimāla sutta, soon afterwards, King Pasenadi, the local ruler who is engaged in a manhunt for the killer, visits the Buddha to warn him of this threat, little realizing that the fugitive is there among the Buddha’s disciples. The Buddha, though, does not inform the king of this at first, instead engaging him in conversation about what he would do if he learned that Aṅgulimāla had embraced monastic life. Only after learning that the king would honor the “killer monk” just as he would any other bhikkhu does he tell Pasenadi that Aṅgulimāla is right there. The king is terrified but the Blessed One calmly explains the situation, leading Pasenadi to speak to this unique monk face-to-face. Through his personal conversation, the king realizes that the brigand’s wondrous conversion is sincere. Amazed, he returns to the Buddha and concedes that the Blessed One’s way of managing this situation is better than punishing (executing) the killer as the king would’ve done. Still, even though he escapes the king’s justice, as the tale unfolds, the reformed killer must deal with the karmic consequences of his crimes.

The tale of Aṅgulimāla has proven quite popular over the centuries. Memorialized in numerous works of art, the story forms the basis for a common paritta (“protection”) ritual in Theravādin tradition and has even inspired a Buddhist Prison Ministry in the U.K. In traditional readings, Aṅgulimāla’s redemption demonstrates how under the Dharma no one is beyond salvation. Taking a different tack, however, I will focus on the way the Buddha exemplifies the ideal of the kalyāṇa-mitra (“good friend”) to both the “killer monk” and King Pasenadi, who was one of the Buddha’s most prominent lay followers. At first glance, the sutta depicts the Buddha skillfully handling a dire situation as a personal matter between friends. Yet upon reflection, there’s something disconcerting here, as being a “good friend” to both Aṅgulimāla and Pasenadi, the Buddha seems to circumvent the demands of justice, and even override the king’s authority. Such things are troubling, violating standard social norms and expectations. And yet the Buddha’s “good friendship” is effective, ending the Aṅgulimāla’s reign of violence by bringing him into the sangha and demonstrating to the king that rehabilitation rather than punishment is a more peaceful way to establish order. Later in the story, the reformed killer is able him to face the fruits of his violent deeds with the Buddha’s guidance before going on to attain arhat status. In light of such considerations, I suggest we read this tale of the Buddha’s creative nonviolent response through friendship as a type of “good violence” that can help us rethink possibilities for personal and political relationships.

My approach to this story differs from what we find in Buddhist tradition. Most versions stress Aṅgulimāla’s meeting with the Buddha, his sudden “conversion” and how such dramatic change plays out in the life of the “killer monk” as well as lives of those in the local community. By contrast, I intend to focus on how the tale portrays “good friendship” (kalyāṇa-mitrata) through the relationships between Buddha, Aṅgulimāla and King Pasenadi. Through such close examination, I am seeking to uncover not only some of the nuances of “good friendship” but also how practicing such friendship might offer ways to counter violence today. While this paper draws on my earlier work on Buddhism, interfaith friendship, violence, and narrative, it extends such work into fresh territory. In this case, my analysis highlights the ways this narrative of friendship serves as a creative response to violence that nonetheless has its own “violent” dimensions.

This paper should prove quite thought-provoking. It draws on diverse sources, bringing them to bear on an intriguing episode in Buddhist lore concerning friendship and violence that resonates through the ages. As such, it fits well with the Religious Reflections on Friendship seminar as well as this year’s AAR presidential theme, “Violence, Nonviolence, and the Margin.”  It should also interest scholars of Buddhism, religion and ethics, psychology, social justice, and literature.

In the end, Aṅgulimāla’s story of violence and redemption, disturbing and compelling as it is, centers on friendship. While the tale involves stopping gross physical violence (both illegitimate and lawful), it does not necessarily eschew violence on all levels nor does suggest that we can avoid its lasting effects. For this reason, it illustrates the somewhat “violent” functioning of the Dharma to wrench us out of our habitual views to more nuanced ways of understanding human relationships. Perhaps in Buddhism, “good friendship” can be a skillful way of bringing peace to our lives and overcoming suffering, but such practices may be “violent” in their own way. Indeed, I suggest that such considerations hint at how Buddhist friendship in its own way exemplifies what journalist and scholar James Carroll dubs, “the paradox of using violence to stop violence,” an intriguing notion that warrants serious attention in the 21st century.