Get engaged, but don’t be entangled. That was the conclusion of a recent Buddhistdoor View, in which we reflected on whether Buddhism can be truly, completely, apolitical. In light of Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche’s wise caution against the venality of many of our political leaders, and what’s being done in our name, it might feel “right” to avoid commenting, let alone advocating or acting, on matters that overlap with politics or worldly affairs.

While Buddhist leaders and institutions should avoid becoming useful pawns—or “cannon fodder,” as Rinpoche puts it—for any worldly master, the cliché is true: Buddhism, even if not the Dharma itself, dwells in the world and is a product of the world. Therefore, our thoughts, speech, and actions unavoidably affect the world in an intricate web of causes and conditions that are already entangled with both wholesome and unwholesome results.

Given this contradictory state of affairs, perhaps the only way forward is to respond with our own paradoxical transcendence of being “engaged” and “detached” from worldly affairs. A historical example might be the outspoken Catholic writer Thomas Merton (1915–68). The Trappist monk’s interests were varied and passionate: racial justice, the Vietnam War, and the situation in Tibet.

Merton had met the 14th Dalai Lama in Dharamshala in 1968, the year he died while on a tour of Asia to explore affinities between his monastic Catholicism and the wisdom traditions in Asian countries amidst political change and decolonization. His Holiness reflected on their encounter fondly: “I always consider myself as one of [Thomas Merton’s] Buddhist brothers. So . . . I always remember him, and I always admire his activities and his life-style.” (The Thomas Merton Center at Bellarmine University)

What was this lifestyle that the Tibetan leader so lauded? In his posthumous journal, one of Merton’s celebrated passages stands out as an almost Zen-like transcendence of the dichotomy between “political” and “apolitical.” It is a celebration of his self-consignment to irrelevance, but a very deliberate and intentional kind of self-marginalization that is aimed at the ultimate, existential concern of death. He wrote that monks, hippies, and poets are deliberately irrelevant, living with an ingrained irrelevance that is actually proper to all people. The person at the margins—the prisoner, the displaced, or the monastic—accepts that the human condition is basically irrelevant thanks to the fact of death, which therefore calls into question the meaning of life itself. He goes on to write:

They struggle with the fact of death in themselves, trying to seek something deeper than death, because there is something deeper than death, and the office of the monk or the marginal person, the meditative person, is to go beyond death. . . . To go beyond the dichotomy of life and death and to therefore be a witness to life.

(Merton 1974, 307)

It is uncertain if the Dalai Lama would use the same term, but his literal and symbolic exile, as well as his attempts to find some mode of reconciliation with the Chinese government, all point to his search to seek something beyond the basic irrelevance of his human condition. Reflecting Merton’s paradoxical transcendence of engagement and detachment, however, his witness of his “irrelevance” has helped him be a witness to life and undeniable moral authority.

In his most recent political memoir Voice for the Voiceless: Over Seven Decades of Struggle with China for My Land and My People (2025), which outlines his most updated thoughts on the Tibet issue since his ninetieth birthday, the Dalai Lama repeated his belief in a universal vision of compassion and justice: “In whatever ways we can, we must stand up against injustice. Nonviolence does not preclude taking a firm stand and expressing our opposition in a forceful way.” (142) He also invoked Mahatma Gandhi, whose anticolonial cause was famously and deeply political.

His Holiness’s choice of words—firm stand, opposition, stand up—seem to indicate that the overlap between serving the Dharma and engagement with the political realm is inevitable. In light of other world events, it’s not hard to draw parallels between the Dalai Lama’s thinking and some of Pope Leo XIV’s recent homilies, which he has denied were aimed at the Trump administration’s prosecution of the war in Iran. Yet the political undertones in the Pope’s statements are striking. For example, he has said: “Jesus, King of Peace, who rejects war, whom no one can use to justify war. He does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war, but rejects them, saying: ‘Even though you make many prayers, I will not listen: your hands are full of blood.’” (Catholic Herald)

The Pope has not only deplored the religious justification of violence, he also directly challenged the exultation and addiction to power itself. “Enough of the idolatry of self and money! Enough of the display of power! Enough of war! True strength is shown in serving life. With evangelical simplicity, Saint John XXIII once wrote: ‘The benefits of peace will be felt everywhere, by individuals, by families, by nations, by the whole human race.’” (America: The Jesuit Review)

As if coming full circle long after Merton’s death, Pope Leo XIV and the Dalai Lama seem to be moving toward similar conclusions on different matters. These matters are tied deeply to political power, contestation of temporal authority, and the exercise of state force. The considered and reflective rejection of violence and force could be said to be part of this paradoxical transcendence, where concerns about being seen as “political” or “taking sides” is no longer a hindrance for the spiritual leader.

In examining our own motivations for speaking out and acting on certain issues, it is essential that we are sustained by love and compassion rather than rage. Outrage and anger might, at their best, provide an initial sign that we care deeply about an injustice—it can’t fuel our moral engagement. As the example of the Dalai Lama and other great Buddhist leaders proves, only an authentic spiritual cause can provide insight into our basic “irrelevance,” through which the morally engaged voice paradoxically becomes intensely relevant.

We should not underestimate the power of our spiritual cause. In 629, the famous pilgrim-monk Xuanzang famously defied state power—the emperor’s ban on him travelling to India—but returned to a hero’s welcome years later. His thirst for bringing back the authentic Buddhist scriptures consigned him to a fugitive’s existence, a marginality that paradoxically made him a hero in both China and India and a shining example in the annals of Buddhist history.

Through learning from such magisterial examples in our more modest lives, paradoxical transcendence of engagement and detachment through “deliberate irrelevance” might help us discern and act on moral clarity, beyond the “mere politics” of our era.

References

Merton, Thomas. 1974. The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton. New York: New Directions.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama. 2025. Voice for the Voiceless: Over Seven Decades of Struffled with China for My Land and My People. London, Dublin: Thorsons.

See more

Thomas Merton and the Dalai Lama (The Thomas Merton Center at Bellarmine University)
Pope Leo XIV says God ‘does not listen’ to prayers of those who wage war (Catholic Herald)
‘Enough of war!’: Full text of Pope Leo’s prayer for peace (America: The Jesuit Review)

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Buddhistdoor View: Compassion in Public—Why Buddhist Nonviolence Has Always Been Political
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