The Junta’s Assault on Buddhism: New Obstructions to Monastic Life
We share the following essay submission.
In a nation where Buddhist ordination has long been a rite of passage and a symbol of moral refuge, Myanmar’s military junta has launched an all-out assault on the very institution it claims to protect. In a grotesque display of hypocrisy, the regime, which justifies its rule under the pretense of "safeguarding Buddhism," is systematically dismantling the Sangha, persecuting monks, and now, most shockingly perhaps, is forcibly preventing young men from taking up robes. By prohibiting ordination and instead conscripting young men into an increasingly desperate military, the junta is violating human rights while accruing immense demerit in the eyes of the Buddhist doctrine it pretends to uphold. Worse still, it is violating one of the most sacred principles of Buddhism: the right of an individual to renounce the world of suffering and walk the path to liberation.
For generations, Buddhist ordination in Myanmar has been more than a religious commitment—it has been a fundamental part of the social fabric. Nearly all Burmese boys spend time as novices (samanera), and full ordination (upasampada) remains a revered practice. The act of taking the saffron robe is a profound moral and spiritual undertaking, seen as a way to earn merit for oneself and one's family, transitioning from worldly suffering to a path of discipline, wisdom, and compassion. Yet today, the very forces that claim to be the protectors of Buddhism are actively destroying its foundation.
Reports from Frontier Myanmar and Khit Thit Media detail the junta’s policy barring young men who have received conscription summons from ordaining as monks. Monasteries have been ordered to scrutinize potential novices and deny entry to those on the conscription list. The military, losing manpower from historic battlefield defeats, has resorted to mass abductions, press-ganging young men from city streets, workplaces, and even their homes. In Yangon and Mandalay alone, hundreds have vanished in recent weeks, forced into the ranks of an institution despised by its own people.
The military’s recruitment efforts have become increasingly desperate and lawless. Reports from Myanmar Now and Frontier describe how local thugs and paramilitary groups, often paid by the military, roam the streets abducting young men for conscription. Bribery, once an escape route, is no longer a guaranteed option. "They don’t want money anymore; they want bodies," a Mandalay Strike Force spokesperson told Frontier. Some families, unable to pay for their sons' release, watch helplessly as they are shipped off to military camps, often never to be heard from again.
Some suggest that the Sangha should avoid politics altogether and focus solely on spiritual development. But how can that be possible when practitioners are barred from renunciation and are forced into acts of killing instead? For Buddhists and meditators around the world, choosing silence in the face of such systematic destruction of the Dhamma is itself a political act, one that ultimately supports the oppressors rather than the oppressed.
The hypocrisy of the junta’s actions is staggering. This is the same military that, for decades, has claimed to be the defender of Buddhism, leveraging religious nationalism to justify its rule. Yet it has consistently persecuted monks who oppose its tyranny. The Saffron Revolution of 2007—led by Buddhist monks against military rule—saw brutal suppression, with monasteries raided and monks beaten, arrested, and killed. Since the 2021 coup, the repression has only intensified. Monastic institutions have been ransacked, monks imprisoned, and now even the ability to ordain is being stripped away.
But this is not only a political or cultural betrayal—it is a deep spiritual crime. Buddhism is founded on the principle of volition (cetanā). The Buddha taught that one’s journey toward enlightenment must be based on personal choice and inner conviction. Renunciation (pabbajja) is a sacred act that must come from the heart, uncoerced. To forcibly prevent ordination is to obstruct the path to liberation, an offense carrying immense karmic consequences.
In Theravāda Buddhism, becoming a monk is one of the highest meritorious deeds. It is an opportunity to dedicate oneself to morality, meditation, and wisdom. By blocking this path, the junta not only denies young men their religious freedom but also severs their access to the highest spiritual pursuit in Buddhist tradition. This defiles the very teachings they claim to uphold.
The Vinaya Pitaka, the monastic code laid down by the Buddha, states that ordination must be undertaken with complete sincerity, free from external pressure. The scriptures also warn against obstructing another’s path to the Dhamma. The military’s actions—forcing young men into the army while preventing ordination—are a profound violation of this principle. In its desperation, the regime commits an offense that Buddhist cosmology deems a grave demerit (akusala kamma), carrying severe consequences in this life and beyond.
Beyond the immediate horror of forced conscription, the junta’s war on Buddhism has long-term consequences. Monastic institutions in Myanmar have historically served as moral compasses and centers of resistance against oppression. The junta understands this—and it fears it. By tightening its grip on the Sangha, infiltrating monastic leadership, and dictating who may or may not ordain, the regime is attempting to strip Buddhism of its role as a bastion of ethical defiance. In doing so, however, it only deepens public resentment and accelerates its own isolation.
The Sangha itself has not remained silent. Senior monks have openly criticized the junta for its hypocrisy. One monastic leader stated that the military's actions are "corrupt and embarrassing the nation" and that true Buddhist teachings are being defiled by the regime’s oppressive rule. The military, which claims to uphold Buddhism, has instead ordered the destruction of monasteries, arrested monks, and even executed respected religious figures.
History has shown that the spirit of the Sangha cannot be so easily extinguished. During the colonial era, during Ne Win’s dictatorship, and even under previous military regimes, monks have resisted tyranny. Even now, some monasteries are quietly defying the junta’s orders, providing sanctuary to those fleeing conscription and refusing to comply with directives to turn away young men seeking ordination. Their courage stands as a testament to the enduring strength of true Buddhist principles.
The junta’s war on Buddhism is not just an assault on monasteries, monks, or rituals—it is an attack on the very path to liberation that the Buddha himself laid down. By physically closing the road to renunciation, the regime is not merely forcing young men into the military; it is severing their access to the Dhamma, the only true refuge from the cycle of suffering. This is more than political repression—it is an existential threat to the Sasana itself, a calculated attempt to destroy the means by which people escape the world of violence, greed, and delusion.
For over two and a half millennia, the Buddhist monastic tradition has remained a beacon of wisdom, offering sanctuary to those seeking to transcend suffering. It has survived wars, invasions, colonial rule, and past dictatorships. But never before has the path to ordination been so explicitly barricaded by force. If this policy is allowed to take root, it could permanently erode the foundation of monastic life in Myanmar, transforming the Sangha from a sacred refuge into a state-controlled entity where monks are no longer seekers of truth, but prisoners of power.
The Buddha taught that the Dhamma is ehipassiko—an open invitation for all who wish to come and see for themselves. The road to renunciation must always remain open, unblocked by coercion, untainted by worldly agendas. By physically closing that road, the junta is committing one of the gravest offenses imaginable: the destruction of the path to liberation itself.