SELF AND SOCIETY: A MEDICAL ANTHROPOLOGIST AMONG THE INDIANS
SELF AND SOCIETY
Throughout history, there have been prophets and false prophets. While our ancestors were often unable to discern the false ones, some prophets went on to found major religions: Buddhism and Jainism, both emerging from Hinduism; Christianity, rooted in Judaism; and Islam, with its connections to both Judaism and Christianity.
I am not particularly drawn to prophets who attribute their words to God. The biographies of such prophets were written centuries after their deaths, leaving us uncertain about who they truly were, what they thought, or how they lived.
What captivates me instead is the philosophy of some of these prophets—none more so than the Buddha. He stands apart from others by not ascribing his teachings to a divine source. Instead, he offered his own interpretation of the reality around him.
I’ve been revisiting Pankaj Mishra’s An End to Suffering: The Buddha in the World. Mishra provides an account of Buddha’s life, not as a series of events but as a narrative of philosophical evolution. Buddha’s insights were not sudden revelations; they were the result of years of meditation and reflection.
Buddha questioned the supremacy of those who claimed to hold divine authority, the Brahmins, whose institutional power ensured that Buddhism, ironically, has almost vanished from the land of its birth. Similar gatekeepers of religious supremacy exist in all societies and religions, opposing free-thinking individuals who challenge their authority.
Buddha believed the mind alone could understand and analyze itself. To observe and comprehend the nature of thoughts, one must cultivate stillness in the mind. Yet achieving stillness is no simple feat. The mind is like a mountain brook—constantly active, its thoughts ever-flowing and ever-changing.
Modern scientists and psychologists long denied the possibility of mastering the mind, delaying its potential for emancipation. Even today, many dismiss this path of inner freedom.
What makes the Buddhist approach so appealing is its critique of modern "meditation" practices, often marketed to eager Westerners by charlatan yogis. These practices offer fleeting relief, akin to striking matches to momentarily banish darkness. Buddha taught that it is better to understand the nature of darkness than to rely on transient light.
As Mishra writes, Buddha observed that many of his contemporaries who preached doctrines of eternal and immutable selves lacked firsthand knowledge of their claims. His early teachers, Kalama and Ramaputra, admitted that their teachings were based on assumptions rather than direct experience.
Buddha’s philosophy holds immense practical value for daily life and our relationships. By analyzing our own experiences and exploring contemporary thinkers, we can reach meaningful conclusions. One such thinker is Jiddu Krishnamurti, whose The First and the Last Freedom offers this profound insight:
"What is the relationship between yourself and the misery, the confusion, in and around you? Surely this confusion, this misery, did not come into being by itself. You and I have created it... what you are within is projected outwardly onto the world. If we are miserable, confused, chaotic within, that projection becomes the world... Society is the product of our relationship."
Among the Native Americans, the relationship between self and society is far more harmonious than in many other cultures. For them, the self is an integral part of the universe. Valued traits include bravery, patience, emotional restraint, honesty, self-respect, and respect for others. Individual freedom is cherished—but only when it aligns with nature. To this list, I would add gratitude and self-sacrifice.
APPLYING THESE LESSONS
Last night, during a dinner celebrating the Jewish New Year 57--, I found my mind growing irritable. The dinner was delightful—lavender scents wafted across the table, accompanied by award-winning French and South African wines. Yet something felt off.
Reflecting, I identified the source of my unease. Growing up in Australia and dining at formal tables in Jamaica, I was accustomed to uninterrupted meals filled with engaging conversation. In contrast, last night was marked by frequent interruptions, technological distractions, and people leaving and returning to the table.
My friend, the Sage of Sioux City, often quotes from Buddha’s Brain: "There are 10,000 reasons for people to feel and act the way they do. Don’t get annoyed; try to understand." Once I pinpointed my irritation, I realized the guests' behavior wasn’t the problem. My own expectations were.
In Jamaica, meals are a seamless experience thanks to helpers who ensure the host and guests remain seated. In Western societies, such traditions are less feasible. Recognizing this, I stopped projecting my discomfort onto others.
This morning, I awoke with a profound sense of calm. Instead of attending synagogue, I resolved to perform random acts of kindness.
At Brussels airport, I helped a woman arriving from Toronto save on taxi costs by organizing a shared ride. I also assisted an Otavalo Indian searching for his brother, reuniting them amidst the busy terminal.
A SIMPLE PATH TO HAPPINESS
Years ago, while dining in Piedras Negras, Coahuila, a visiting professor asked me, "What is your advice for achieving happiness in one sentence?"
I replied: Decrease your desires.
This echoes the wisdom of Dr. Chia, a historian from Singapore, who once remarked, "Expensive shops along Orchard Road don’t tempt me. I have no desire for them."
To this principle, I would add two stages:
Seek Philosophical Insight: Read thinkers like Jiddu Krishnamurti or Gilles Deleuze, who said, "Tell me your desires, and I’ll tell you who you are." Understanding desire is key to understanding oneself.
Serve Others: Do more for others than for yourself. Here, the Native Americans shine as exemplars, offering sacrifices and prayers for the well-being of others.
By decreasing desires, seeking wisdom, and helping others, we cultivate a harmonious self and society—a timeless lesson for the new year.
(the future: I was welcoming the family of this 16 year old from Indonesia who arrived to represent her country in the International Youth Conference on Human Rights, her father from Bogor is a good friend of mine)
