Towards a comparative approach in the study of monasticism

This Chapter has outlined the isolation, yet parallel directions, in the study of Christian monasteries in Europe and their Buddhist counterparts in South Asia. This is in part due to the historical trajectory of monastic studies in both Europe and South Asia. Whilst in both regions the study of monasticism has been text-driven, the political ideology behind the use of texts is vastly different. In South Asia, a Marxist framework has tended to be utilised whereas this has not entered Western European discussions of monasteries. This split is even more accentuated when archaeology ‘came of age’ in both South Asian and European monastic studies whilst European studies continued along a historical trajectory those in South Asia were influenced by processual ideas. However, though divergent, there have been instances when comparative archaeological approaches between Christian and Buddhist monasteries have been engaged with.

In Section 2.2, it was outlined how in the nineteenth century similarities between Buddhist and Catholic monasticism were utilised to draw negative parallels. However, less negative comparisons were also made in order to describe newly encountered architecture and practices. Though some early studies attacked the nature of Buddhist monasticism due to similarities to Catholicism, the terminology of Christianity was a valuable tool in describing the peculiarities of a newly discovered religion to a Western audience and many Buddhist texts translated in the nineteenth and early twentieth century were presented in an accessible way for an audience used to the nuances of Christian texts. For example Paul Carus presented aspects of the Pali Canon as The Gospel of Buddha (1894). Similarly, Dwight Goddard published an anthology of Buddhist scriptures as A Buddhist Bible (1932) and Caroline Rhys Davids of the Pali Text Society translated and denoted sections of Buddhist scripture as Psalms (1909, 1937). Even Theosophists attempting to seek a new spiritual path glanced back to their Christian heritage with Henry Steel Olcott’s

54 explanation of Buddhism published in the form and under the title of the Buddhist Catechism (1881).

Architecture was where a Christian vocabulary provided the expressions for descriptions of Buddhist monuments. When describing the Buddhist caves of India, Fergusson “used terms borrowed from the names given by antiquarians to the different parts of Christian churches, because in form and arrangement they so exactly resemble the choirs, more particularly of the Norman churches of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, that no confusion can arise from my doing so, and I know not where to look for other terms, that would apply to them, and be intelligible” (1846: 37). For instance at Ajanta rock-cut cave nineteen, Fergusson stated that “seventeen pillars surround the nave, all of which are very richly ornamented, and above them is a band occupying exactly the same position as a triforium would in a Christian church, and occupied here with niches containing alternately figures of Buddha sitting cross-legged, and standing” (ibid.: 50). Furthermore, there is the possibility that methods of early architectural recording in Europe were influenced by those undertaken in South Asia and the detailed record of Fountains Abbey by J.A. Reeve was conducted at the suggestion of the architect William Burgess in the 1870s (Coppack 1990: 22). Burgess had architecturally recorded monastic complexes in India and his methods were now influencing those back in Europe. Though recording methods in South Asia to some degree influenced the approaches of those studying monasteries in Europe, there was some irritation to the investment in monastic archaeology abroad and Francis Bond complained stating that “immense sums are spent in excavating civilisations in far-away countries with which we have little concern; our own Byland, Rievaulx, Glastonbury remain lost beneath the soil” (Bond 1905).

Individuals not only applied Christian architectural terms to monuments, but also suggested Western influence for these forms. The similarity of caitya and Basilica has often been alluded to (Dehejia 1972: 74) and often seen in diffusionist terms (Fergusson and Burgess 1880: 175-176), though even without such a connotation academics have found the analogy useful in descriptive terms. The labelling of

55 elements of Buddhist architecture with Christian church architecture has been continued by later scholars such as Mitra (1971: 51) (Figure 2.8). Stuart Piggott described the temple and stupa at Bairat as in “form it is the basilica; thence the nave, aisles and clerestory of a medieval church” (Piggott 1943: 6) and Rowland describe rock-cut caves as “Buddhist basilicas” and “Buddhist cathedrals” that incorporated naves and aisles (1967: 68-69). The above links identified between European and South Asian monasticism in the nineteenth and early twentieth century’s laid the foundations and provided the basis for future comparisons to be constructed.

Brown, in his study of Indian architecture utilised comparative architectural terms and motifs. In both Christian and Buddhist monasticism, Brown noted that monasteries exhibited the constituent architectural units of dormitory, common room, refectory, and kitchens (1956: 27). The structural unit of greatest architectural similarity of form was the cloisters, with Brown stating that the cloisters of a Benedictine monastery, constructed of a lean-to roof on stone pillars, was visually comparable to the lean-to roof propped up by wooden pillars of the open court cloister-garth of an early Buddhist monastery (ibid.). However, Brown went further, not only were architectural terms utilised as a point of comparison but it was further suggested that Buddhist monasteries generally “had much in common with the monastic establishments of Europe, a condition due to the similarity of their aims” (1956: 27). Brown suggested that Theravada Buddhist monasteries and Christian monastic Orders, such as the Cistercians, chose similar locations of topography to fulfil the expectations of their lifestyle, placing their respective monasteries in “wild and desolate places, for apparently the same reasons that they might conduct their observances undisturbed by the distractions of any human environment” (ibid.).

Scholars from South Asia have also more recently highlighted the similarities in monastic motivations and organisation. Roland Silva provided points of comparisons for the mindsets of the medieval monastic enterprises in geographically diverse but temporally similar contexts. He suggests that the motives for the location and style

56 of architecture and layout of different orders of monasteries were similar in both medieval Sri Lanka and Europe stating that:

“Human psychology and behaviour were not too drastically different in the different parts of the world. If one analysed in a general way the services performed by the monks in an Asian/Buddhist context as seen in Sri Lanka, and these were compared with European/Christian context, then one notices that the character and style of the Mahavihara-type of monastery would record a close parallel to those of the Benedictine Order. The Vanavasa-type would resemble a Carthusian monastery and at the middle level, the Panchavasa-type would compare with a Cistercian institution” (2004a: 256-257).

Furthermore, Coomaraswamy, in his study of the art of medieval Sri Lanka, alluded to the role that monasteries played within society as a whole as a possible point of comparison suggesting that the relations between craftspeople the Sangha and the state was similar to the feudal society of medieval Europe (1956: v), which was also noted in a discussion of the Mihintale tablets (Wickremasinghe 1912: 80). This allusion is again reiterated by Silva who suggested that the role of large urban medieval Sri Lankan Buddhist monasteries was similar to that of the Christian monasteries of Europe in relation to hospital care in that both enterprises allocated a building specifically to provide provision for the sick just outside or beside large urban forms (2004b: 23). Furthermore, the ownership of property by monasteries was also compared, with Gunawardana arguing that in medieval Sri Lanka and Europe lay property tended to fragment in transmission from generation to generation compared to corporately owned monastic communities where property tended to accumulate, though he noted that “there are also certain noteworthy differences between the two monastic types” (1979: 339).

It is not only archaeologists who have pursued such analogies and theologians and historians have utilised textual sources to discuss the motivations behind the monastic life (Henry and Swearer 1989, Don Peter 1990, Boisvert 1992). Rather than provide a list of similarities and differences these studies attempted to use

57 comparative examples to understand the motivations of religious individuals (Henry and Swearer 1989: 14). Although it has been noted that renouncing a worldly life is a development common to many faiths, comparative studies have focussed specifically on the two largest monastic traditions, Buddhism and Christianity and Boisvert suggested that “despite the diversity and frequent divergences of these religious’ belief systems, their monastic traditions share distinct and definite similarities that, when viewed objectively, appear to point to the existence of what we might call ‘pure monasticism’” (1992: 123). This ‘pure monasticism’ would appear to be discerned by comparing its manifestations apparent within different religious traditions. Utilising examples of early Buddhist monastics from India as portrayed in the Pali Canon and the hagiographies of the desert fathers he attempted to demonstrate that “monasticism itself constitutes a tradition of its own, a tradition that transcends the dogmas and beliefs of various religious orientations and that is the natural path of anyone wishing to experience salvation” (ibid.: 123-124). The study and comparison by Don Peter of the sixth century CE rule of St Benedict with the Vinaya also comes to similar conclusions expressing that “in spite of great differences between the two systems, differences in the areas of geography, language, culture and religion, they are basically similar responses to human aspirations” (1990: 1). These comparisons did not focus on ideologies but were provided to understand the concept of monasticism, and thus the practices common to both Buddhist and Christian traditions (Boisvert 1992: 124).

However, these works are based solely on texts and therefore contain an inherent bias (Section 1.3). Though there have been divergences in the avenues of research that have been undertaken in Europe and South Asia, medieval archaeological research in Europe has begun to identify the benefits of a comparative approach and that an understanding of the functions and roles of monasteries may provide some of the answers to key questions of complex societal development. Tentative links have been made between Christian monasticism in Europe and Buddhist monasticism in South Asia in terms of common thematic developments such as royal patronage, monasteries as the focus of redistributive networks, and monasteries as land management centres practising specialised craft production and industry (Blair 2005). Bethell in his study of the Early Irish Church suggested that as far as

58 analogies to the function of monasteries in Ireland that “our nearest modern parallels to it are early twentieth century Tibet, and the still existing monastic/aristocratic societies of the Himalayas. In modern Bhutan we have an entire society living in such monasteries” (1981: 44). This analogy is further elaborated by Blair who cites Buddhism in eighth and ninth century Tibet as a direct analogy to medieval North West European Christian monasticism. Citing ownership and stewardship of land, serfs, trade revenues and exemption from taxes, Blair suggests that Buddhist monasteries resembled towns housing large multifunctional communities and that the position of monasteries in Tibet “could be applied, almost unaltered, to the English minsters” (2005: 78).

Blair cites Grimshaw’s (1983) study of Rizong monastery in modern Ladakh is provided for further comparison. Rizong was founded in the 1810s and like Christian monasteries of the 850s had to impose itself upon the previous social structures, beliefs and practices, impacting on and transforming the lifestyle of the populace (Blair 2005: 181). Again the monks of Rizong were the main landlords, consumers and employers of labour and controlled the local and interregional traffic of commodities and established a redistributive network that focussed upon the monastery. The physical presence of the monastery and its permanence along with its scale and complexity and role in stimulating and regulating economic production resulted in Rizong fulfilling the role as a symbolic and economic centre of village life (ibid.). Though the two belief systems operating at Rizong and in Anglo Saxon England were different, Blair asserts that the “capacity of Rizong to intrude itself into, and transform, an undeveloped economy and settlement pattern has lessons for our view of England, especially in the intermeshing of spiritual with social engagement to a dominant ritual and exploitive focus” (ibid.).

However, these comparisons are still superficial in nature, composed from a limited number of case-studies, rather than an in-depth analysis of archaeological evidence. Also, by using fairly modern examples of monasticism in Asia, a comparison of the archaeology of the medieval periods of both Buddhist and Christian monastic enterprises has not yet been fully attempted. In addition to the limitations of the

59 evidence selected, there is to a certain degree a sceptical view by some academics in Sri Lanka and Europe as to the applicability and usefulness of such a comparative approach on a global, cross-cultural and religious level.

In South Asia in some cases, due to nationalist discourse, the independence and indigenous aspects of heritage are emphasised. In Sri Lanka, Goonatilake, a sociologist, vehemently opposed comparisons made between Mayan Plazas and stupas in the Anuradhapura hinterland. Rather than engage with the analogy that such structures and associated institutions maintained links between urban and rural, populaces (Coningham et al. 2011: 1066), he instead pursued a simplistic deconstruction asserting that “Maya pyramids were platforms for human sacrifice — a far cry from the function of peaceful Buddhist stupas” (Goonatilake 2011: 1062). Even before such a suggestion was made, he attacked a comparative approach to monasticism from a global perspective stating that “There are superficial similarities between Christian monasteries with their monumental cathedrals and Buddhist ones with their stupas in that there was religious practice, writing or copying of books and communal living. But with that, the similarities end” (ibid.: 1063).

In medieval scholarship in Europe there has also been a negative attitude to global comparative approaches. Hen affirms the Eurocentric stance of many Western medievalists by questioning whether the comparisons that Blair cites are at all relevant to the study of medieval monasticism proposing “that more nuanced comparisons with continental phenomena may illuminate what was distinctive and what was not about Anglo-Saxon England. Comparisons with Merovingian and Carolingian Francia are surely much more relevant and suggestive than those with Buddhist monasticism or Mesoamerican colonialism” (2009: 334-335). Though scepticism remains there is some support for such studies with some arguing that these comparisons are “not some crude attempt to use such studies to fill lacunae in the evidence but rather an exploration and admission of the intellectual debts which have shaped the ways Blair has tried to make sense of the Anglo-Saxon material” (Nightingale 2010). However, not only is there some cynicism towards a

60 comparative approach, medieval archaeology as a relatively young discipline, would appear to be almost entirely European in outlook.

In general it would appear that to many, medieval archaeologist ‘international’ could be defined as ‘European’. Gilchrist and Reynolds have recently discussed how medieval archaeology is beginning to become more international in nature, highlighting how the proceedings from the Society of Medieval Archaeology’s 25th anniversary “lacked any international perspective, with the emphasis placed on balancing the Anglo-Saxon, English and ‘Celtic’ archaeologies of Britain” (2009: 2) whereas at the Society’s 50th

anniversary there was a recognition that “improved collaboration is needed across Europe to place our regional perspectives within more meaningful frameworks” aiding the development of pan-European syntheses (2009: 6). In an Antiquity editorial, Carver questioned this focus towards Britain and Ireland at the expense of continental Europe (2007: 264) stating that “there is certainly no such thing as an early medieval archaeology which happens only in ‘Britain’” (ibid.). In defence, Wilson argued that the Society of Medieval Archaeology was not ‘international’ in nature as there were many scholars involved in the dissemination of European ideas and materials in a multitude of co-edited books (2009: 16). Again, the attack on the Society of Medieval Archaeology’s international nature stems from its preference for publishing papers on British, rather than European evidence, and continental European data is seen as the definition of international.

However, medieval archaeology has previously attempted to reach out to broader geographical regions and Austin and Alcock (1990) attempted to bring studies of medieval Eastern Europe into dialogue with those of Western Europe. The exclusion of the rest of the medieval world is exemplified by the omission in the publication of a contribution on East Africa even if this decision was taken to give the volume a unity of theme and content (ibid.: xxi). Indeed, this focus towards Europe has remained and by looking through the International Medieval Congress’s (IMC) programmes it can be seen that a negligible minority of papers and sessions related to topics or themes outside Europe. It could be argued that in general, the International element of the IMC describes scholars from around the globe

61 discussing medieval Europe, rather than the medieval era throughout the world as exemplified by their call for papers in 2010 which stated that “The IMC seeks to provide an interdisciplinary forum for the discussion of all aspects of Medieval Studies. Papers and sessions on any topic related to the European Middle Ages are welcome” (http://www.leeds.ac.uk/ims/imc/imc2010_call.html).

Champion previously mentioned the Eurocentric attitude and Christian focus towards medieval archaeology noting how the Islamic presence in Europe is almost entirely ignored by European medievalists and that research frameworks were “limited by historical concerns ultimately rooted in a vision of European uniqueness and historical superiority” (1990: 91). However, it would appear that steps are being taken to internationalise in some quarters. The Society for Medieval Archaeology stated that though they have a “special concern for the medieval archaeology of Britain and Ireland, the Society seeks to support and advance the international study of this period” (SMA 2011) and for their Student Colloquium in 2011 proposals were welcomed from all geographical regions (SMA 2011).

McNally (2001) attempted to broaden the scope of monastic studies and in an edited volume aimed to “illuminate basic issues concerning monasteries as communities, or parts of communities” and that the discussions within “provide insights that provoke thought about other monastic experiences, both within and without the Christian tradition” (2001: 3). The papers moved away from solely relying on textual sources with a focus shifting towards what architecture and material culture can elucidate. Though nearly all deal with aspects of Christian monastic communities the scope of analysis moved outside Europe to include discussions of monasteries in Egypt and Sudan. It is even more thought provoking and relevant as it does provide one cross- religious parallel, a paper on possible ascetic and ‘monastic’ Judaism at the site of Qurman (Magness 2001).

Such studies to broaden comparative focus have been attempted in relation to the archaeological study of religion. Analysis of archaeology and religion have been

62 undertaken in edited volumes such as those by Insoll (2001, 2011b) and journals such as World Archaeology, which published a volume on the archaeology of religion (Platt 1978). However, the comparative element is not pursued and case studies relate to individual approaches to the archaeology of various religious traditions. Comparative approaches are also lacking within specific religious traditions. Though volumes also in World Archaeology have been compiled for