Paweenwat Thongprasop holds an LLB degree from Thammasat University. As an independent researcher and literary critic, he is passionate about the interplay between law, humanities, and the environment within postcolonial contexts.

Introduction

Our existence is closely intertwined with other species, places, and natural processes. In the Anthropocene, human activities, including war, significantly impact the natural environment. In a 2020 report, the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) underscores the intensification of violence in armed conflicts, attributing it to climate change. This is demonstrated through case studies from Southern Iraq, Northern Mali, and the Central African Republic. The report further reiterates the necessity of addressing environmental disasters as another form of violence. [1] Hence, the significance of environmental protection during armed conflict is becoming progressively more important.

The ICRC has recently initiated a project exploring the relationship between religion and International Humanitarian Law (IHL). The project features a diverse array of thematic spheres including Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism.[2] As part of this effort, a conference was convened in Thailand in 2022, centring on the interface between Buddhism and IHL. This assembly brought together scholars and practitioners to examine the potential of Buddhist doctrines in cultivating an enhanced respect for IHL in contexts of armed conflict.[3]  The present article stems from a paper I had the privilege of presenting at this noteworthy event.

IHL, Buddhism, and the Need for Environmental Protection

Before exploring the connection between Buddhist ecologies and IHL principles, it is crucial to understand the definition of ‘environment’ in the context of international law. The International Law Commission defines the ‘environment’ as a complex network of interconnected systems.[4] This definition gains importance when evaluating the impact of human activities, like armed conflicts, especially in the Anthropocene epoch. This ecological interconnectedness is reflected in IHL in Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions[5] and customary principles[6] that safeguard civilian objects essential for survival, aligning with the Buddhist principle of Pratītyasamutpāda. This principle, which expounds upon the concept of dependent origination or interdependence, asserts that all phenomena are interconnected, and that nothing exists in isolation. It posits that all actions have consequences, which is a fundamental understanding that informs the ethical and moral behavior in Buddhism. In much the same way, IHL seeks to mitigate the impacts of human actions in conflict situations, recognising that these actions have far-reaching effects not only on people, but also on the environment they inhabit.

Anthropocentrism and Emotional Aspects in International Law

Still, this protection is restricted to animals that are essential to the survival of the civilian population. This limitation reflects the anthropocentric values inherent in the current IHL, where only animals that benefit humans are safeguarded. As Anne Peters and Jerome de Hemptinne point out, IHL’s primary objective is not to preserve animal lives but rather to prevent human starvation.[7] Hence, IHL only prohibits attacks intended to deprive the sustenance value of animals to the civilian population or adversary. These prohibitions focus on the objectives of preventing starvation or forced human relocation and do not prohibit the killing of animals for legitimate reasons other than deprivation of their value to the population. Lastly, the protection accorded to animals under IHL is not absolute. The rules can be overridden when there is an “imperative military necessity” to defend national territory against invasion, indicating that animal protection is subordinate to certain military priorities.[8]

Examining alternative perspectives and cultural sources in Buddhism can offer valuable insights into humanitarian and environmental ethics. This approach contrasts with the prevailing Western anthropocentrism found within international law. The roots of this perspective lie in the Western world and its adherence to liberal humanism, an anthropocentric worldview that reinforces the subject/object, reason/emotion, and culture/nature binaries. These divisions, in turn, perpetuate a system of domination.[9]

Moreover, the emotional aspects of international law and society have often been overlooked, stemming from the liberal rational assumption that the law should be objective and devoid of emotion. In her article titled ‘Emotions and International Law’, Anne Saab delves into the impact of emotions on the realm of law, highlighting instances where emotions, such as fear incited by counterterrorism measures or resentment stemming from migration, have significant ramifications. These emotions can shape the way people perceive and interact with the law, leading to complex dynamics, such as individuals in host states feeling compelled to guard their resources against those seeking refuge.[10] Furthermore, she discusses the use of artificial intelligence in warfare, emphasising the importance of the humanitarian concept of “reasonable commanders” when evaluating the principle of proportionality. It is crucial to highlight that these commanders are considered reasonable not due to the absence of emotions, but rather owing to their capacity to experience and comprehend human emotions. They possess the ability to empathise, display compassion, and recognise the fundamental value of human dignity. Emotions, therefore, assume a vital role in the discourse surrounding the utilisation of artificial intelligence in warfare, necessitating active involvement of international lawyers in considering the emotional aspect of international law. Saab’s work sheds light on the interplay between emotions and legal systems, revealing how they can influence social and political landscapes, and the need to consider these emotional dimensions when analysing legal phenomena.[11]

Insights into Buddhist Environmental Ethics in the Paññāsa Jātaka

This article aims to explore vernacular Buddhist practices commonly observed by lay Buddhists, with the Paññāsa Jātaka serving as the primary source for analysis. The Paññāsa Jātaka is a compilation of stories infused with moral teachings and has served as a vital source of popular religious instruction from the inception of Buddhism in mainland Southeast Asia. These stories have been adapted into various forms of expression, such as sermons, festival readings, sculptures, paintings, dance performances, theatre, Thai television dramas, and even children’s stories. Examining the environmental aspects of the Paññāsa Jātaka could provide insights into how ordinary people understand and practice Buddhist ethics concerning nature conservation in the context of armed conflict.

As with international law, emotion serves as a vital driving force in the main narratives of the Thai Paññāsa Jātaka, emphasising the concept of dukkha, or sorrow, which represents one of the Four Noble Truths in Buddhism. A folklore study of the Thai Paññāsa Jātaka[12] highlights the emotional impact of the Paññāsa Jātaka as effective means of teaching Buddhist principles. The author examines the portrayal of loss and separation experienced by the Bodhisatta and his loved ones in the Jātaka, emphasising the significance of carrying out good deeds despite fears and sufferings, as highlighted by the stories’ emphasis on sorrow and the law of karma. Ultimately, this study suggests that the Paññāsa Jātaka serves as a spiritual guide for Buddhists, effectively transforming folktales into Buddhist tales using the emotion of sorrow.

With its popularity and filled with Buddhist emotions such as sorrow and empathy, the Paññāsa Jātaka offers a more compassionate approach towards nonhuman beings, highlighting the connection between the suffering of animals and the spiritual growth of humans. This suggests a need for a more inclusive and empathetic approach to international law that acknowledges and addresses the pain and suffering experienced by animals in armed conflict.

The story of Suvaṇṇasaṅkha recounts the journey of the Bodhisatta who undertook a great quest and encountered several obstacles that required him to kill numerous animals.[13] However, the Bodhisatta made a conscious effort to mitigate the pain and suffering experienced by these creatures. In this tale, the Bodhisatta was raised by an ogress queen. He managed to get away from this doting ogress and started working as a cowherd for a village headman. He prevailed in a competition for the hand of a Baranasi princess. Due to his greater merit and certain mantras the ogress queen had earlier taught to him, he managed to withstand a plot by six competing sons-in-law to have the king execute him. A magic sword he received from his ogress stepmother in the heavens helped him defeat the biggest task that Lord Sakka had given him later.

This story also emphasises that the present circumstances of the Bodhisatta can be attributed to their past actions. In a previous life, the Bodhisatta was born into a poor family and engaged in the cruel act of torturing crabs. One incident involved capturing a crab, enclosing it within a mound of mud, and casting it adrift in the vast ocean. Astonishingly, the crab managed to survive this ordeal. As a result of these actions, the Bodhisatta underwent a subsequent existence within a conch shell, enduring immense suffering.[14] This underscores the intricate web of spatiotemporal karmic consequences and ecological interconnectedness, wherein each action reverberates throughout existence, shaping the Bodhisatta’s future lives and emphasising the profound interdependence of all beings.

One of the tasks imposed by the King on the Bodhisatta and the six sons-in-law required them to bring numerous fish. While the six sons-in-law failed to catch any fish, the Bodhisatta could summon a lot of fish. This is because he had received a magical mantra from the lady ogress to summon animals. Animals who would have created any kind of karma would approach him, and those who did not have to die because they had no bad karma could flee[15]. He chanted the great jewel mantra to summon fish and prayed for those fish not near their death to flee away and others to stay.[16]

The magic used by the Bodhisatta to catch the fish in this tale could be interpreted as a method which, in many respects, complies with the principles of environmental protection in hostilities. Since the magic distinguishes between fish that are close to dying from their own karma and fish that are not, the principle of distinction is observed. The attack on fish is also proportionate in relation to the military objective, here: to get the fish according to the King’s command. By employing the magical weapon that only kills fish on the verge of death, the damage to the fish population is limited. In terms of environmental protection in war, the modest number of fish killed did not result in widespread and serious harm to their population or habitat. As this form of warfare did not disturb their habitat, the fish that fled away could thrive and reproduce. Therefore, there was no disruption of the fish population as a natural resource for people and other animals.

To limit harm to the natural environment during military operations, it is essential to possess the appropriate mental component. In this regard, various stories in the Paññāsa Jātaka illustrate how self-sacrifice can cultivate empathy for other beings, particularly the natural environment, and potentially impact the knowledge and intent of those who would commit crimes against the natural world.

In IHL, the mental element is a crucial factor in determining criminal responsibility when it comes to minimising collateral harm to the natural environment. As stipulated by Article 30 of the Rome Statute, a person can only be held criminally responsible if they meet the elements of intent and knowledge.[17] In terms of the responsibility of the commander, Article 28 of the Rome Statute stipulates that the commander must fulfil duties to prevent, repress, and report crimes.[18]

In the story of ‘Suvaṇṇa Kacchapa’,[19] the Bodhisatta takes the form of a golden turtle who selflessly sacrifices its life to save five hundred shipwrecked merchants who prayed to the guardian gods for help. The turtle offers its own flesh as alms and allows the merchants to use its breast shell to construct a boat to reach the city. When the King sees the magnificent golden shell, he proclaims that the turtle must be the offspring of a future Buddha. After sharing the story, the great teacher recites a verse, ‘I have learned what is to be learned, developed what is to be developed, abandoned what is to be abandoned, therefore I am a Buddha…’[20] This tale emphasises the significance of selflessness and humanity, as well as the importance of recognising the value of all living beings, including animals. It can serve as a reminder to those involved in hostilities to acknowledge the worth of all life, and to take it only when necessary, such as in armed conflicts where minimising collateral damage to the environment should be a constant concern.

Towards an Ecocentric Approach: Integrating Buddhist Ethics and IHL for Environmental Protection

In conclusion, reading affective ecologies in the Paññāsa Jātaka offers an alternative perspective on human-environment relationships, linking karmic consequences to contemporary issues. As a significant source of popular religious instruction, examining its environmental aspects provides insights into vernacular Buddhist understanding and practice of ethics related to nature conservation amid armed conflict. According to Andrew Bartles-Smith, religions can enhance understanding and acceptance of IHL across cultures, providing moral force and influencing belligerents. However, their impact varies, as they may also undermine adherence to IHL or humanitarian norms in some contexts. Embracing the legacy of restraint found in all religions and cultures is essential to legitimising and further developing IHL amid global challenges.[21] By integrating the principles of IHL with insights from Buddhist literature, a more comprehensive understanding of environmental protection within the context of armed conflict can be developed. This, in turn, can instil eco-consciousness in modern Buddhist readers and holds the potential to resonate with a broader audience beyond its religious context.

Photo: Buddha head embedded in a banyan tree, temple of Wat Mahathat in Ayutthaya @Sue Slaght


[1] ICRC, ‘When Rain Turns to Dust: Understanding and Responding to the Combined Impact of Armed Conflicts and the Climate and Environment Crisis on People’s Lives’ (ICRC, 2020), 8-12.

[2] See, ICRC, ‘Religion and Humanitarian Principles’, https://blogs.icrc.org/religion-humanitarianprinciples/.

[3] See, ICRC, ‘[Video] First International Conference on Buddhism and IHL in Thailand, https://blogs.icrc.org/religion-humanitarianprinciples/thailand-conference-buddhism-ihl/.

[4] International Law Commission (ILC), ‘Second report on protection of the environment in relation to armed conflicts by Marja Lehto, Special Rapporteur’, UN Doc. A/CN.4/728, para 196.

[5] Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and relating to the Protection of Victims of International Armed Conflicts (Protocol I) of 8 June 1977, Art. 54.

[6] ICRC, ‘Rule 54. Protection of Objects Indispensable to the Survival of the Civilian Population’, in ICRC Study on Customary International Humanitarian Law, https://ihl-databases.icrc.org/en/customary-ihl/v2/rule54.

[7] Anne Peters, and Jérôme De Hemptinne. ‘Animals in War: At the Vanishing Point of International Humanitarian Law’ (2022) 104 International Review of the Red Cross, 1298, https://doi.org/10.1017/S181638312200011X.

[8] Ibid.

[9] See, Emily Jones and Dianne Otto, ‘Thinking through anthropocentrism in international law: queer theory, posthuman feminism and the postcolonial—A conversation between Emily Jones and Dianne Otto’ (2020).

[10] Anne Saab, ‘Emotions and International Law’, ESIL Reflections 10:3 (2021), 1-2.

[11] Ibid., 5.

[12] Patcharin Buranakorn, ‘Sorrow in the Paññāsa Jātaka: Emotion and the Teaching of Dharma’ (2009) Rian Thai: International Journal of Thai Studies, 2, 227-242.

[13] In this analysis, I draw upon the English translation of the Jātaka tales by Baker and Phongpaichit (2019) in their work, ‘From the Fifty Jātaka: Selections from the Thai paññāsa jātaka’, published by Silkworm. It is important to note that the interpretations and conclusions drawn in this analysis are based on this specific translation, and that other translations or interpretations may offer different perspectives. As such, the reader should be mindful of potential discrepancies that may arise due to variations in language, cultural context, or the translation process itself.

[14] Baker and Phongpaichit, ‘From the Fifty Jātaka’, 55.            

[15] Ibid., 36.

[16] Ibid., 43.

[17] Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC) of 17 July 1998, A/CONF.138/9, art. 30.

[18] Ibid.

[19] Baker and Phongpaichit, ‘From the Fifty Jātaka’, 155-158.

[20] Ibid., 158.

[21] See, Andrew Bartles-Smith, ‘Religion and international humanitarian law’, (2022) 104 International Review of the Red Cross, 1725–1761, http://doi.org/10.1017/S1816383122000376.