(My teacher, Venerable Elder Thich Tri Quang, passed away yesterday, November 8, 2019. His last will and testament: no altar, no incense bowl, no funeral notice, no condolence, no wreath, no funeral procession. I only ask for his permission to light a stick of incense in memory.)

I had two birth certificates. The first time when I was born. My parents gave me a body and blood. But I did not know who I was, how I would live, or what path I would take. When I was born, I had two eyes. But I had not seen the path of life. It was not until I went to Tu Dam Pagoda, after the day Mr. Diem was overthrown, that I saw the path I would take. No wonder learned words call the path the religion. Seeing the path, I gave birth to myself.

In early 1964, a group of Hue university teachers met at the Pedagogical University to decide on publishing a newspaper to fight for the continuation of the spirit of the 1963 "revolution", against the tendency to establish a "Diem regime without Diem" supported by the Americans. In the original plan, the newspaper was to be the voice of the Hue teachers and students who participated in overthrowing Diem. Dizzy with the victory of a successful uprising, our ambition was to turn the university into a stronghold against dictatorship. Young people often have blasphemous dreams. The meeting assigned the responsibility of thinking about and directing the newspaper to the three of us, Ton That Hanh, Le Tuyen and me. The name of the newspaper, Lap Truong, was given by us.

At that time, I was 27 years old. Shortly after the meeting, I was invited to have dinner with the general commanding the I Tactical Zone. Only then did I realize that I was playing a game that was too unfair in front of swords and spears, with a very young age and a vision that was no further than a book. The masses, the newspaper had. But the military security could arrest a few teachers at any time? Taking advantage of the "revolution", we published the newspaper without asking for permission, but the psychological warfare officer was sitting right in front of me eating, could I fool him? Writing articles, one must have a clear anti-communist stance, he advised, not being anti-communist means being pro-communist. How could I write? How could I write when there was an iron curtain dividing the army and the masses, one side justifying that the coup against Diem was to better fight the communists, the other side demanding to purge the old regime's cronies to avoid being oppressed by dictatorship? In that situation, Lap Truong was a miserable mouse under the claws of three cats: the generals, the Americans, and the remnants of Diem's Can Lao party.

In terms of tactics, we could temporarily find a way to survive by exploiting the power conflicts between the generals and colonels in each region to maintain an independent position in the Central region, to counterbalance the capital Saigon. But that was not a long-term position. Also in terms of tactics, we could say to the Americans: If you fight against the Communists without the people, who are you fighting against? If you call for freedom but do not let the people decide their own destiny by voting, where is your freedom? But that is arguing with reason; in reality, the Americans did not wage war for the benefit of the Vietnamese people. With just those two cats, we mice did not know when the newspaper would live or die. What to say of the third cat, the extremist religious forces, born and raised by war. With just this one argument, they forced us into a difficult situation: the national policy was to fight against Communism, so we could only fight against Communism with anti-Communist forces, we could not fight against Communism with those who were hesitant.

Our only support was the masses who were angry with the remnants of the old regime. But the masses without organization were like bricks and stones without cement? The obvious situation pushed us to find cement. That is, to go to Tu Dam Pagoda! Where else? Wasn't Tu Dam the place that started and created the content, shape, and fire for the struggle? I had to explain clearly like this to explain why a newspaper originating from a university became a newspaper considered the semi-official voice of Tu Dam, that is, of Buddhism.

The pagoda does not engage in politics: that attitude of Buddhism is as firm as a nail driven into a pillar. The ideals of us young people were the same, coinciding with the pagoda like the original with the copy, with God's seal. At that time, Sartre was the philosophical god of our time, and his play "Les mains sales" fascinated us: politics was the domain of "dirty hands" that we loathed. We were drunk on fighting, not yet enjoying the political wine of our elders. Going to Tu Dam pagoda with a cheerful soul was like finding a time that had not been lost, to paraphrase Proust's literature. Once again, I will tell you the whole story to give back to Caesar what was Caesar's: Lap Truong newspaper was not founded by Tu Dam pagoda, it was not a political tool of my teacher.

My teacher, Tri Quang, sat in the living room, looking out into the yard when we arrived. He greeted us with a smile, on his mouth and in his eyes. The two eyes were the soul of his face. His eyes were bright and fierce. After 1963, the masses idolized the leader, saying to each other "his eyes were electric". Those eyes captivated me from the very first moment, not because they were "electric" but because they became gentle as soon as the Teacher smiled. His two eyes smiled along with his mouth, the evil disappeared somewhere. With that gentle soul in his eyes, I forgot everything we talked about that afternoon, it seemed like there was nothing important, it seemed like we didn't even mention the newspaper, it seemed like there was nothing between the copy and the original to tell God. However, when we said goodbye to the Teacher, we felt like we were chopsticks in a bundle, not easy to break. The newspaper was born later. Printed at the university printing house and in the eager anticipation of the masses, no matter how much was printed, it was not enough to sell, and selling it didn't even think about collecting money. That was my second birth certificate.

The newspaper was born in the context of the 1963 "revolution" being betrayed. The argument of war forced the Americans to actively support the forces advocating war; These forces, taking advantage of the situation, turned around to take revenge on those who had participated in overthrowing the old regime. Diem fell, but the Diem regime remained intact from the central government to the communes and villages, with an unshaken repressive apparatus. The war allowed them to take revenge with a logic as elementary and blind as bombs and bullets: they are communists, they helped the communists, the communists became stronger because of them. The war also allowed them to take revenge on the movement leaders in a brazenly "legal" way: just capture them and send them to the army and that's it! Anyone who wants to understand the political developments in the years 1964-66 only needs to think about the confrontation between the two disputes over succession: inheriting Diem or inheriting the movement to overthrow Diem. Inheriting Diem means continuing the war and relying on war to seize power. Inheriting in 1963 means demanding elections to establish a new regime. The other side's weapon is bombs and bullets. This side's weapon is the ballot. At one point, the Americans were also torn apart: they knew very well that bombs and bullets could not solve everything, that waging war without the people was like herding the people to the communist side. But, as one of their proverbs said, in the end, "birds of the same feather fly together."

However, the irony of the times was that the people were not nothing, even in the eyes of the generals. Caged in the war, there was another context that was also bustling with weapons: the struggle for power between the generals commanding the tactical zones. Between them, it was not difficult to overthrow each other; maintaining one's position in the occupied zone was more difficult, and to do so, one had to rely on the people, first of all, the "scholars" who were listened to by the people. We, in the Central region, had that position to confront the generals in Saigon and demand "revolution" from them. In that context, the National Salvation Council was born in Hue in 1964. Initiated by Lap Truong newspaper, this action was to protect the achievements of 1963, against a central coup by the generals close to the old regime. This organization was also not born by my teacher; at that time he was in Saigon. Anyone who studied the history of the French revolution knows Comité de Salut public. The National Salvation Council was a literal translation of Robespierre's organization. In the minds of us half-educated young intellectuals at that time, 1963 was like being incubated with the yeast of the mythical 1789 revolution.

Before it could cry three times, the provinces in the Central region immediately gave birth, in the same mold, on the same side, to local People's Councils of the Central Region. Born spontaneously. Without anyone's instructions. Then, spontaneously, People's Councils of the Central Region gathered in Hue to unify the policy. Struggle became politics. And it was all spontaneous! Foreign journalists began to flock to Hue, thinking they were about to witness a change of position. The Americans began to ask us about General Thi, the commander of the I Corps, thinking that the National Council of Vietnam was about to become a springboard for a new hero. The Central region suddenly became a political center, with Hue as its brain, spontaneously and spontaneously. The masses responded enthusiastically, not caring whether the leader of the National Council of Vietnam was Doctor Quyen or anyone else. Vaguely, they only saw someone "behind" Lap Truong, meaning my Teacher.

They saw that as not without basis. Without the Teacher, how could there have been a "Letter to Hue" by the Teacher published in Lap Truong on May 23, 1964? The Teacher wrote: "The word "teacher" was called out in the midst of death, in the midst of madness, in the days when Tu Dam was surrounded and attacked like a war zone, the word "teacher" was called out in tears and blood, that word "teacher", I know Hue Buddhists reserved for me". Between the leader and the masses, how many people have such a close bond? Just that, those few words of love and tears are enough for the masses to know where the Master is and to stand with him. From the Lap Truong newspaper to the HDQC, I repeat, the intellectuals in Hue are not the Master's tools, the Master does not interfere in any of their actions, but without the Master, they would not be who they are, loved by the people so much. Whoever wants to understand my Master, please understand him through the fire of Quang Duc, do not mistake him for a politician, that position is very low, not worthy of him. Taking on the responsibility for the fire of Quang Duc, the Master cannot allow the times to betray that fire, that's all.

*

But the times do not always favor the Master. The Central region, becoming a political center, will put the Master in a difficult position, when the dispute between the locality and the central government escalates to the point of secession. Secession? How can you hear it! But abandoning the masses halfway, how can you do it! The Master was like an officer commanding a warship that was sunk by the enemy, the honor he had to maintain was to sink with the ship. This was the source of the turmoil in the Central region in 1966. A turmoil that weighed heavily on the Master's heart, difficult to calm.

The context of 1966 was that the war was spreading, approaching the city, at night cannons were firing all the way to Saigon, shaking the windows. From opposing the war, Buddhism stood up to demand peace, at the Master's request. That voice bothered both sides, but directly and closely by the Americans. Demanding revolution, they were still patient. Demanding peace, they were furious. How could he overcome their opposition with their own fundamental philosophy? The Master demanded elections for a Constituent Assembly. In the tumultuous atmosphere in the Central region, the Master thought the influence would spread to Saigon and the election would be disadvantageous for those who advocated war. And it was true! Not only in the Central region, but also in all the provinces up to Saigon, all classes of people, except for religious forces who lived and died for the war, enthusiastically supported the election policy to replace the generals' regime with a civilian government. People demonstrated in Saigon, occupied Tan Son Nhat airport, called for strikes, and even displayed banners reading "Yankee Go Home". In the Central region, needless to say: even soldiers, even commanding generals, stood side by side with civilians, police, public security stood side by side with civil servants, intellectuals, students, businessmen, creating a movement demanding elections. I dare any general in power in the Central region to dare to go against the movement. I dare Thieu-Ky to replace him with another general. I dare Mr. Ky to remove the mayor of Da Nang by any other means than threatening to shoot Mr. Man in the head. The military faction was divided into two: one side was Thieu-Ky's ally, based on jihadist parties and religions, afraid that elections would benefit Buddhism; On one side, the army and people were allies of the Central region. The army and people were rarely of one mind like that. So much so that the commander of the 1st Division trained the students and youth in military affairs, gave them weapons to defend Hue, and supported Da Nang, threatening to oppose Ky if Ky used violence.

While the army and people stood side by side in the Central region, the Americans stood side by side with Thieu-Ky in the campaign to suppress and divide Buddhism. They would divide by establishing a Buddhist wing opposing my Master. But before that, they would brutally suppress the movement, first in Saigon, then in the Central region. Divide or suppress, their target was my Master. Destroying my Master would destroy the peace movement, destroy the prestige of the Central region that Westmoreland, Taylor, Lodge, and Rostow considered a Buddhist stronghold. Moreover, destroying my Master would enable them to organize a National Assembly according to their wishes, permanently remove Buddhism from elected bodies, and escalate the war. Guns and bullets were at the forefront of the ballot.

Using the excuse of punishing the separatists, Mr. Ky sent a large army to Da Nang, aiming at Hue. The people spontaneously brought altars out onto the streets to block tanks from Quang Tri to An Hoa. Within half an hour, the main streets of Hue city were full of Buddhist altars. The Master said: I am passive. In the face of a fait accompli, I give the official order. The masses invited Buddha out into the street, the altar was solemn, and they chanted as if they were at home, as if they were in a temple. Ky negotiated with the Master. The Master did not respond. Ky imposed curfew, launched the "Mad Buffalo" battalion to attack, shot, captured, beat, beat, drank beer until drunk, then swung bottles to beat, beat even the students.

Before that, the soldiers of Region I and the "death row" students had decided to fight Ky, lined up on this side of Hai Van Pass, ready to open fire. The engineers had laid mines, ready to destroy the bridges from Da Nang to Quang Tri, cutting off supplies from Quang Tri. In Hue, artillery and machine guns were arranged along the flagpole, pointing at the curfew command post located at Phu Van Lau. The soldiers asked the Master's opinion. Painfully: the monk in the Master did not allow him to use violence. Bringing the altar out into the street was a non-violent struggle. Shooting was violence, the Master had to tell them to destroy the mines and put away the guns. Civil war was something the Master did not do, even though the consequences were that both the army and the Buddhist people were arrested and later repressed. If he failed, he had to accept it. But non-violence was his guiding principle. His only weapon was hunger strike. Arrested and taken to Saigon, he went on hunger strike for exactly 100 days.

During the 1966 incident, a major American newspaper asked a big question: What did Mr. Tri Quang want? What did he want that he opposed one government after another? What did he want that he did not know how to compromise? What did he want that he demanded the National Assembly? And then what did he want that he stopped demanding the National Assembly and then opposed the National Assembly? In the chaos of coups and wars, of foreign domination and civil wars, if you take the time to look and understand, what my Master wanted was extremely simple, and could be summarized in a letter, "Letter to Hue" that I mentioned above.

What did my Master want in 1964? When the people overthrew Mr. Diem, they thought that dawn would break after the dark night. But who would have thought! "Who would have thought that the movement to improve policy would not be as simple as we thought. A coup is too easy but a revolution is too difficult. As a result, our current life and our beliefs are almost as nightmare as the past and perhaps will continue into the future." What do you want? You want Mr. Diem's tail to not cause suffering to the people and to Buddhism.

How? "Continuous efforts and efforts to end policies that are not suitable for the survival of the Nation and Buddhism, to develop Buddhism through one's own practice without harming other religions, to promote the virtue of Compassion the more one practices the virtue of Fearlessness: that is the "Buddhist consciousness" that is extremely simple but endlessly difficult."

It is truly endlessly difficult, because the Master failed in 1966. But what is "Buddhist consciousness" in the 1966 era? It is the cannons that fire at night, it is war, it must be peace. Some people think that my Master asked the National Assembly to gain a majority, to dominate, to play a new role in the political arena of the South. If they take the time to look at politics in the South logically, they will know what my Master wants: as long as there is war, there will be Americans; as long as there are Americans, there will be a military apparatus serving the war; As long as there is a military apparatus serving war, there will be forces that feed on war; as long as there are forces that feed on war, Buddhism will be suppressed and silenced. The way to solve the problem, from the position of a monk, is to remove the first link, which is to end the war! Is that doing politics?

My teacher has many different names. Some people say he is pro-communist. Some people say he is pro-American. Sometimes he wears both hats at the same time. Quietly, he told his relatives: "The more hats he has, the more it shows that he really has no hats. On the contrary, the more hats he has, the better: it elevates and makes clear the special position of Buddhism. So Buddhism does not need to avoid but also needs that paradoxical effect."

It is that paradox that makes him. He is a huge paradox. A monk with the stature and special charisma of a great politician, the greatest in the South at that time, but refused that rare ability to become a monk. The question that American journalists asked about the Master was not without basis: they were attracted to the Master as a political talent, so they could not imagine that the Master really did not want to do politics. They were wrong.

Now people probably understand the Master better. The times forced the Master to go into battle, as a leader. But that was the reluctant position of a great monk, too great to refuse a special responsibility that history suddenly placed on his shoulders. But the Master was not fooled by history into taking a different path from that of a monk. The Master's joy was when he was away from the political marketplace to do the work of a monk, translating and preaching sutras. During the hundred days of fasting, that was when the Master was happy. Because the Master was able to do what he wanted: write two manuscripts, "Research on the Awakening of Faith" and "Research on the Journey to the West using the Consciousness-Only School". How did the monk fast, and with what state of mind? The Master said: "There are two things that a fast absolutely must have. One is to have a peaceful mind, not sad, not angry, not asking for anything. Not asking for death nor fearing death, completely approaching the Buddha's virtue of joy and renunciation. Two is to absolutely not eat, of course, not drink, not inject anything." The body does not eat or drink, the mind is joyful and renunciation. Is he a politician or a monk?

My Master has victories and defeats in his actions, like anyone who acts. But victory, he gives it to others to enjoy; defeat, he accepts alone. Victory or defeat, he is lonely. All his life, he is lonely. After every victorious struggle, there are always many politicians who fawn on the leaders. Those who fight alongside him only enjoy stale rice and vegetable water. Throughout his life, the Master was intolerant of the deceit, the evil, the cunning, the cunning of political trading. As for the Master, I once heard him say something offhanded: water that is too clear has no fish. What is there to drink in my hermitage? Anyone who plays with flowers and arranges flowers knows: no matter how pure the flowers are, after three days the water in the vase begins to smell. Some people only see the beautiful flowers, not the smelly water. The Master saw the smelly water, so he did not use the flowers to worship Buddha. I learned that perspective from the Master so that I would not be afraid of loneliness in life. And in truth.

*

The Master has lived alone like that since 1975 until now, not caring about worldly affairs, praise or criticism, not justifying himself, not receiving guests. He lives as if he had fasted, calmly translating sutras. He lives as if to answer questions about the Master in the past: He is just a monk, nothing more, nothing less, now as always. The thing is, this monk has bright eyes, he is really fierce but he is really gentle, when he is fierce he is fearless, when gentle he is compassionate, two words as red as vermillion in the old Lap Truong. I don't know what to say to today's youth other than the two words I learned in the past.

Fearlessness, everyone has seen in the Master. No fear! What about compassion? Compassion is not just love. It must be a love that can both bring joy and save suffering. Every Buddhist knows this. But few people know why compassion is a law. The Master taught: because life is a relationship, no one can live alone, so living is to help each other, bring joy and save each other from suffering. That compassion creates for us an equal view: seeing everyone is suffering, therefore we must bring joy and save everyone from suffering.

What the Master taught, I understood it all. And I know that is the Master's ideal, he lives like that. But my question is how compassionate is my monk in his actions that, whether he wants it or not, are political? I read the Master: "The ultimate goal of compassion is to see others as one with me, the other person's body is my body... Because of compassion, I offer myself to suffer for others. Seeing everyone as my only child, seeing others as my own body, is there anything I cannot do?"< br>
My Master is very much my Master in the words "what I cannot do". People respect him, fear him, all sides fear him because he exudes those words. But what is it about him that people fear? What is it about compassion? Evil! "Especially in this era - the Master wrote - an era in which psychologically we can clearly see everywhere the embodiment of cruelty. Cruelty, like a fire emitting black and towering smoke, covers suffering humanity. And against cruelty, there is only compassion."

One must read one more sentence to see that the writing is the person, the Master's writing style is as sharp as the Master's, and he appears in the eyes of the opponent like that, that is evil: "Therefore, whoever mocks that in this era we still talk about compassion, that person is the one who is cruel. Whoever directly or indirectly damages the power of compassion is a criminal of humanity, a person who brings disaster to humanity. If we have to use the example of a devil, that devil is only afraid of a single mentality, the mentality of compassion."

I met my Master when the history of Buddhism and the political history of the South opened a new period with the fire of Quang Duc. History chose my Teacher to be the one to bear the brunt of that period because history knew how he fought against evil with what mentality. In all four directions, we could see: the fire of Quang Duc was the fire of compassion. As for me, at the low level of an ordinary person, I see that fire continue to burn in the nostalgic sentences that the Master wrote to Lap Truong on the first anniversary of the death of the 7 children shot dead by Diem's soldiers in front of Hue radio station on Buddha's birthday in 1963: "I, until now, still cannot overcome the feeling of a person who saw a pile of flesh, blood and bones thrown into a corner of the wall, the flesh, blood and bones of loved ones who had just laughed and talked to him not more than 10 minutes before! When, or will there ever be, when will humans be less brutal, feel ashamed of their crimes, so that people will not be afraid of humans".

My Master went down in history for just that reason: only because he personally took on the suffering of the Buddhist masses, only because in his bones and blood were the bones and blood of 7 innocent children who died because of evil, only because he took evil as a constant accomplices to provoke him.

About the Master, I think it was only that story is worth mentioning. But all of this is just a huge mistake that needs no correction or comment: people mistakenly thought that the Master wanted to be Richelieu, cardinal, prime minister of King Louis XIII of France. In fact, my Master wanted more than that: he wanted to be a monk.