Buddha’s Teachings And Contemporary Politics

The very first principle of the Buddha’s philosophy is impermanence (anitya). Impermanence means change — the inevitable reality of life. Yet we generally dislike thinking or talking about it. The word sounds and feels negative: impermanence reminds us of death; change reminds us of aging. Out of fear of losing what we have, we prefer to push impermanence out of our minds.

Recently, during a meditation training, the teacher asked us to reflect on the positive side of impermanence. At first, this seemed contradictory — how could impermanence be positive? But as I thought more deeply, I discovered many positive aspects of it. I realized that a true meditation teacher is not just one who guides us to sit with closed eyes, but one who teaches us to think differently, to reflect, and to question.

This means that impermanence does not always have to be negative. If we are suffering now, the very law of impermanence assures us that our suffering will not last forever. Development itself is nothing but change. Because of impermanence, we can shape our lives and societies in ways that favour us. Imagine a world where nothing ever changed — how unbearably dull it would be!

Because of this law, the old passes away and the new arrives. Flowers fall, buds sprout, fresh shoots grow. Impermanence does not mean only death or destruction — it is the very reason the world remains ever-renewed.

In politics too, impermanence is at work. It is because of impermanence that the hereditary Rana regime collapsed, the partyless Panchayat system disappeared, and the monarchy gave way to the republic. Step by step, political systems have shifted to bring us where we stand today. Because of this same principle, technology advances by leaps. What we could not even imagine yesterday is now in our hands.

But those who fail to understand impermanence are forced by time to exit the stage. For those who remain mindful of it and prepare accordingly, the exit can be graceful and dignified. For those who ignore it, the end becomes difficult and even destructive.

One of the Buddha’s central teachings is to keep reflecting on impermanence in both joy and sorrow. When we are healthy, we think illness will never touch us. With some wealth, we imagine we are secure forever. The illusion of power is even more dangerous. Many political leaders, who once brought great change in their youth, later fell prey to this illusion. But impermanence keeps working, with or without us.

The cycle of time

Another concept we must understand is the cycle of time. Unlike Western thought, Eastern philosophy does not view time as a straight line. It sees time as cyclical. We feel time is moving forward, but in fact, like the hands of a clock, it turns in cycles. In youth, we think time is rushing straight ahead, and so we are enthusiastic about change. But when we have completed more than half of life’s journey, we begin to see repetition. Only then do we realize that time was always circling — yesterday, today, and tomorrow. This is why history repeats itself.

Thus, today’s youth and young leaders must not only be enthusiastic but also alert. Change does not bring only positive outcomes; it carries both positive and negative. Our task is to weigh them carefully. If we mistake the negative for the positive in the rush of change, it becomes self-destructive in the long run. Enthusiasm for success must not breed arrogance or illusion. The essence of the Buddha’s teaching is mindfulness — to remain aware and attentive.

Vibhajjavāda: The method of analysis

In Buddha’s philosophy, there is a method of analyzing events called Vibhajjavāda. In the Majjhima Nikāya, the Buddha described himself as a Vibhajjavādin, saying: “The Tathāgata is a Vibhajjavādin, one who teaches the Dhamma by analysis, not an Ekamsavādin, one who asserts a one-sided view.” By contrast, most of the analysis we see in today’s politics is one-sided, or Ekam savāda, which goes against the Buddha’s teaching.

For example, if we see a tree, we might say it came from a seed. True, but not sufficient. A seed alone cannot make a tree; it also requires soil. Soil alone is not enough either — it needs sunlight, water, and air. And above all, it requires conditions coming together — the right conjunction of circumstances. Without the whole set of conditions, a tree cannot appear.

The Buddha’s philosophy therefore emphasizes multiple causes (bahukāraṇavāda). It is said, “Phenomena are conditioned by many interdependent causes, not by a single cause or creator.” From the creation of the universe to the smallest event, everything arises through a combination of conditions.

Vibhajjavāda helps us examine these factors carefully and in balance. It also trains us to look at both the positive and negative aspects of anything. The root bhaj in Sanskrit literally means “to divide.” Our weakness lies in treating things in absolutes — either entirely good or entirely bad. This prevents us from reaching truth and only produces extremism.

Take social media: calling it either wholly good or wholly bad is simplistic. Instead, if we assess both sides, we can minimize the negative impacts. Similarly, saying all politicians are corrupt, or that all are virtuous, are both extremes. Some are good, some bad, most are mixed. Even in the same person, some qualities are admirable, some harmful. We must analyze every leader in this way. This cultivates balanced judgment.

Recent political upheavals have produced many analyses in the media. But most are one-dimensional (Ekamsavādi). In truth, no event has a single cause. Only thoughtful and rational analysis can bring sound conclusions. A citizenry capable of such analysis is itself a national strength.

Five things to contemplate

In this context, let me recall another of Buddha’s teachings — especially relevant for political leaders. It is called the pañca anussati — the five reflections we must always keep in mind:

I will not remain forever young. Aging is the law of the body.

At any time, I can become ill or unwell. Health is not permanent.

I have not conquered death. I am mortal.

The people and things I love will not always remain with me. They can be lost at any moment.

I am the owner of my actions (karma). I inherit the results of my actions. Whatever good or bad I do, I alone must face its consequences. There is no escape from karma.

The Buddha’s teachings may appear negative in wording, but in practice, they yield profoundly positive results. The world is full of negativity; only by facing it honestly can life turn positive. Recognizing the harsh realities of existence protects us from their destructive consequences. It also cultivates humility, strength to stand against hard truths, and vision beyond short-term gains. Indeed, the true quality of a leader is the ability to think far ahead.

Buddha’s teaching: Live mindfully

I will end this article with a verse of the Buddha:

Appamādo amatapadaṃ, pamādo maccuno padaṃ.

Appamattā na mīyanti, ye pamattā yathā matā.

Its meaning: “Remaining aware is the path to life. Losing awareness is the path to death. The mindful never die; the heedless are as if already dead.”

In times of struggle, we often remain mindful. But once we achieve success, awareness fades. Similarly, the higher leaders climb in power, the more they lose awareness. They begin to see impermanent power as permanent, forgetting the eternal law of change. 

The fragile mortal self begins to imagine itself eternal and mighty. They forget the cycles of time, falling into delusion.

I am reminded of Edmund Hillary’s reflection on climbing Mount Everest. For him, success was not only reaching the summit; it was equally important to descend safely and return home. Many Nepali climbers have died not on the way up, but while coming down. A complete plan includes climbing down with the same grace.

This is the greatest lesson today’s youth and political leaders must learn. Neither youth nor popularity lasts forever. Once awareness fades, arrogance arises, and eventually this becomes the cause of downfall. For in the cycle of time, it does not take long before the wheel turns back to the same point again.

(The writer is a student of spirituality and philosophy.)