A Buddhist Bomb of Mettā
U Lokanatha's story, as told by Lorenzo Colombo on a recent podcast episode, is one of profound transformation. Born in Italy, he migrated to the U.S. and eventually became deeply moved by the Buddha’s teachings. Embracing a life of monasticism, U Lokanatha traveled to Asia seeking enlightenment. In Myanmar, he found his calling, becoming known for his deep meditation practice and efforts to spread the Buddha's teachings, as well as his close friendship with Webu Sayadaw. Despite challenges, including imprisonment during World War II, he remained dedicated to his mission of peace and spiritual insight, impacting lives worldwide.
The following selections are from his early life growing up in Italian neighborhoods in New York City (when he was known by his given name of Salvatore), during his time as a prisoner of war, and about one of his important essays:
“During his stay at the concentration camp, U Lokanatha tried to write a letter to Adolf Hitler, Mussolini, Churchill, and Emperor Hirohito of Japan. He tried to convince them to stop the war.”
As a child, he tended toward some aspects of the Dhamma. For example, when he was a small boy, he found a bird on the roof of his house in New York, and he tried to bring it to his parents as if the bird was his pet; sadly, his parents killed the bird and tried to eat the animal. The young Salvatore said, I caused the death of this animal, so I have to die too.
He started a hunger strike until his mother asked him to stop, and he said, ‘Okay, Mother, I forgive you.’ And he started to eat again. But he was ready to give up his life for the sake of the life of this bird. He said, in one of the discourses, much later: that this is the proof that in one of my past lives, I was already a Buddhist.
I think he felt what Buddhists call the “saṃvega,” the urgency. He used an expression typical of the Buddhist culture: he felt the world was on fire, and he could not find any satisfaction in the world, in the mundane world. It was what we call today the roaring 20s; if you've ever read The Great Gatsby, the Rolls Royces, the parties, he said: there is nothing in this for me, it's boring, there is no true satisfaction in searching of pleasure in the apparent happiness of the world. He was already prepared to become a Buddhist before reading the Buddhist books.
During his stay at [an Allied POW camp in India during World War II], he tried to write a letter to Adolf Hitler, Mussolini, Churchill, and Emperor Hirohito of Japan. He tried to convince them to stop the war. In one of his discourses, he said that he had perfect knowledge and that this was unlikely, but he said I had at least to make the gesture.
There is one interesting thing: it is pretty strange to think of this, but many Buddhists at that time, especially in Japan, were not opposed to war because in Japan, there was a tradition of Buddhism an Imperial way; it was a sort of Shintō-Buddhist syncretism with the Emperor having a central role, that saw war as an occasion to bring unity to Asia under the Buddhist flag. Lokanāta, at the first stage of his Buddhist experience as a Buddhist monk, shared that idea. When the war started, he ultimately gave up this perspective and began to talk firmly against any form of violence. He said war is wrong; it is always bad. Even if you make war for apparently a cause that is rightful, to kill another human being, you are not a hero; you'll go to hell without previous notice. At that time, in that particular time of history, I think this was the most crucial lesson for the venerable Lokanāta. I tried to publish many of these discourses against the war on the Internet because I believe that, sadly, many years have passed, but human stupidity is still the same.
In one of his [written] masterpieces, he said Buddhism is a Buddhist bomb of love and mettā. Many people said we must start a politic of disarmament and put away all weapons, and he said that is not sufficient to destroy all weapons in the world; if you are not at peace within yourself, there is always the potential for war inside your heart. Surprisingly, he did not use an example from the Buddhist text but from the Catholic Bible, the letter of, I think, St. James, where he said you must fight the passion inside you; the passion inside your heart is what causes war, not the weapon, the weapon is only a thing, you do not need to take a gun in your hand and shoot, a gun doesn't kill anybody, it's your mind your intention t to hate to kill someone, not a weapon.