The Thammasat University Library has newly acquired a book that should be useful for students interested in ASEAN history, American history, Buddhism, political science, international affairs, and related fields.

Brothers in the Beloved Community: The Friendship of Thich Nhat Hanh and Martin Luther King Jr. is by Bishop Marc Handley Andrus, an American bishop of the Episcopal Church who currently serves the Episcopal Diocese of California.

All TU students are aware that Thich Nhat Hanh was a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, peace activist, teacher, and founder of the Plum Village Tradition, recognized as the inspiration for engaged Buddhism. Known as the “father of mindfulness”, he was a major influence on Western practices of Buddhism.

The TU Library collection includes several books by and about Thich Nhat Hanh.

Martin Luther King Jr. was an American Baptist minister and activist who became the most visible spokesman and leader in the civil rights movement from 1955 until his assassination in 1968.

The TU Library also owns a number of books by and about Martin Luther King Jr.

Thich Nhat Hanh and Martin Luther King Jr. were allies in the peace movement, opposed to American involvement in the war in Vietnam. They also became friends, although they only met in 1966, just two years before Dr. King would be killed.

Despite their different religious beliefs, they agreed about a vision of the Beloved Community, where everyone is included and living in peace, with each person in a community connected to every other one.

They first met in Chicago to discuss the latest developments in Vietnam, and held a press conference at the Sheraton-Chicago Hotel.

In a later interview, Nhat Hanh recalled: We had a discussion about peace, freedom, and community. And we agreed that without a community, we cannot go very far.

The same day, they released a joint statement:

We believe that the Buddhists who have sacrificed themselves, like the martyrs of the civil rights movement, do not aim at the injury of the oppressors but only at changing their policies. The enemies of those struggling for freedom and democracy are not man. They are discrimination, dictatorship, greed, hatred and violence, which lie within the heart of man. These are the real enemies of man—not man himself.

We also believe that the struggles for equality and freedom in Birmingham, Selma and Chicago, as in Hue, Danang and Saigon, are aimed not at the domination of one people by another. They are aimed at self-determination, peaceful social change, and a better life for all human beings. And we believe that only in a world of peace can the work of construction, of building good societies everywhere, go forward.

We join in the plea, written June 1, 1965, by Thich Nhat Hanh in a letter to Martin Luther King, Jr., ‘Do not kill man, even in man’s name. Please kill the real enemies of man which are present everywhere, in our very hearts and minds.’

Their final meeting would be the following year at a World Council of Churches Pacem in Terris (Peace on Earth) conference in Geneva, Switzerland.

Nhat Hanh advanced his ideas of the restoration and reformation of Buddhism by including beings who may be venerated as bodhisattvas, or enlightened beings who have put off entering paradise in order to help others attain enlightenment.

The morning after hearing the news that Dr. King had been killed, Thich Nhat Hanh wrote a letter to a mutual friend, stating: I did not sleep last night. . . . They killed Martin Luther King. They killed us. I am afraid the root of violence is so deep in the heart and mind and manner of this society. They killed him. They killed my hope. I do not know what to say. . . He made so great an impression [on] me. This morning I have the impression that I cannot bear the loss.

On the website of Plum Village is an excerpt from Nhat Hanh’s At Home in the World: Stories from a Monk’s Life, which is available to TU students from the TU Library Interlibrary Loan (ILL) Service:  

Martin Luther King Jr., Bodhisattva

I first wrote to Dr. King on June 1, 1965, explaining to him why some of us in Vietnam had immolated ourselves in protest against the war. I explained that it was not an act of suicide, or of despair; it was an act of love.

There are times when we have no other way than to burn ourselves in order to be heard, in order to get the message across. The people of Vietnam did not want the war, but there was no way for this voice to be heard. The warring parties controlled all the radio, television, and newspapers. To burn ourselves like that was not an act of violence. It was an act of  compassion, an act of peace. The suffering of the monk who burns himself to convey a message of love and compassion—is of the same nature as the act of Jesus Christ dying on the cross, dying with no hate, no anger, only with compassion, leaving behind a compassionate call for peace, for brotherhood.

A year later, on June 1, 1966, I met the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. in person for the first time in Chicago. From the first moment, I knew I was in the presence of a holy person. Not just his good work but his very being was a source of great inspiration for me. When those who represent a spiritual tradition embody the essence of their tradition, just the way they walk, sit, and smile speaks volumes about the tradition. Martin Luther King Jr. was young at that time, as was I. We both belonged to the Fellowship of Reconciliation, an organization working to help groups in conflict find peaceful resolution.

We had tea together in his room, and then we went down for a press conference. In the press conference, Dr. King spoke out for the first time against the Vietnam War. That was the day we combined our efforts to work for peace in Vietnam and to fight for civil rights in the US. We agreed that the true enemy of man is not man. Our enemy is not outside of us. Our true enemy is the anger, hatred, and discrimination that is found in the hearts and minds of man. We have to identify the real enemy and seek nonviolent ways to remove it. I told the press that his activities for civil rights and human rights were perfectly in accord with our efforts in Vietnam to stop the war.

In May 1967, one year later, I met Martin Luther King Jr. again in Geneva at a conference called Pacem in Terris—“Peace on Earth”— organized by the World Council of Churches. Dr. King was staying on the eleventh floor; I was on the fourth floor. He invited me up for breakfast. On my way, I was detained by the press, so I arrived late. He had kept the breakfast warm for me and had waited for me. I greeted him, “Dr. King, Dr. King!”

“Dr. Hanh, Dr. Hanh!” he replied.

We were able to continue our discussion on peace, freedom, and community, and what kind of steps America could take to end the war. And we agreed that without a community, we cannot go very far. Without a happy, harmonious community, we will not be able to realize our dream.

I said to him, “Martin, do you know something? In Vietnam they call you a bodhisattva, an enlightened being trying to awaken other living beings and help them move toward more compassion and understanding.” I’m glad I had the chance to tell him that, because just a few months later he was assassinated in Memphis.

I was in New York when I heard the news of his assassination; I was devastated. I could not eat; I could not sleep. I made a deep vow to continue building what he called “the beloved community,” not only for myself but for him also. I have done what I promised to Martin Luther King Jr. And I think that I have always felt his support.

(All images courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)