My attention was first drawn to the Buddhist monks engaged in the peace walk in Sri Lanka during the time they carried out a 2,300-kilometre Walk for Peace across the United States in January this year. In particular, I had been closely observing the various difficulties these Buddhist monks encountered while travelling through regions such as Alabama and Mississippi, areas within what is known as the Bible Belt in the United States, where Evangelical Christians are especially active and influential.
What I frequently noticed within the Bible Belt was that many people seemed to perceive these monks as a kind of religious “other” or even as opponents to Christianity, and therefore confronted them directly. In certain places, groups stood along the roadside holding signs and posters saying things like “Jesus is the only way,” “Bible is the only way,” and “Go to hell,” openly expressing their opposition as the monks walked past.
In addition, I saw several videos in which Evangelical pastors attempted to engage the monks in debates. Yet Venerable Pannakara Thero, who led this journey, endured all of this with remarkable calmness and restraint, continuing the walk steadily, briskly, and without interruption.
For much of their journey in America, they were walking through sparsely populated areas. As a result, media coverage often portrayed them as moving peacefully and harmlessly, accompanied by their dog Aloka, in a way that created a positive emotional response among viewers and readers. When they approached towns and cities, it was also common to see local people filming them, showing support, taking photographs, creating TikToks, applauding, and warmly welcoming them.
Regardless of the resistance, obstacles, and disruptions they faced, the way these monks completed such a long Walk for Peace in America was admirable. They concluded their journey by spreading a deeply meaningful, exemplary, and inspiring message throughout the United States. Their success was truly heartening. In many ways, one feels compelled to say: “Well done, venerable sirs.”
When I learned that their next peace walk would take place in Sri Lanka, I began following it with similar interest. However, I never imagined that this walk would become such a massive public event - receiving intense media attention, generating continuous social media discourse, and even requiring state security.
I had expected it to be more of a serene and spiritually uplifting journey. I imagined Sri Lankan monks standing by the roadside chanting pirith, temple bells ringing, and devotees gathered respectfully, offering blessings and chanting “Sadhu, Sadhu, Sadhu” with quiet joy and Buddhist devotion.
Instead, what happened was almost the complete opposite.
Almost immediately after these monks arrived in Sri Lanka, I saw a well-known local monk publicly state, “We who understand peace well enough do not need such walks here; if necessary, go and do this in Israel and Palestine.” Another monk commented that “walking with dogs is not a Buddhist custom.” Others dismissed it by saying these were essentially “dog-walking marches.” In many instances, this journey was referred to merely as a “walk” rather than being spoken of in the more reverential language usually associated with monks. These kinds of opinions circulated widely on social media.
That said, many people in the country did receive these monks with great reverence. But what stood out most to me was the way these monks were treated almost like celebrities. Perhaps the fact that they had already completed a peace walk in America contributed to this. Either way, Sri Lankans seemed eager to take photos with them, upload videos of the walk, lay down cloth or even banana leaves in their path, offer flowers and garlands - in short, to give them something resembling a celebrity reception.
This treatment was not limited to the monks alone. Even Aloka, the dog accompanying them, appeared to gain a kind of celebrity status. People not only worshipped the monks but also tried to pet and hug the dog.
What we seem to be witnessing is that if even a dog becomes associated with celebrity, it too receives public fascination and affection. In the same way, these monks were also being treated with a certain celebrity aura.
Before coming to America, these monks had undertaken a similar walk in India. They travelled in much the same manner there, yet I did not observe anything like this response. The likely reason is that India is home to many religions and countless ascetics and spiritual walkers. Offering hospitality, reverence, and gifts to such figures is already a normal part of Indian social life.
In Sri Lanka, however, monks engaging in this kind of walking practice is relatively unusual. We are more accustomed to seeing monks walk in processions, religious ceremonies, or political marches. So it is understandable that monks walking for peace might appear novel or even extraordinary to Sri Lankans.
For this reason, it seems many began to perceive these monks as celebrity monks or as somehow exceptional.
At the same time, what also became apparent was a subtle narrative suggesting that “these monks are different from ordinary Sri Lankan monks.” Whether or not ordinary people consciously thought this is secondary. What I observed more clearly was that certain political actors also appeared to encourage and promote this framing.
This became especially noticeable following the arrest of 22 monks at Bandaranaike International Airport in connection with narcotics-related allegations. Some seemed eager to contrast that incident with these peace-walking monks, saying in effect: “Look at the difference between those monks and these monks.”
In the end, however, my feeling is that this peace walk too became drawn into politics. That impression was reinforced when the President presented a sapling from the sacred Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi to Venerable Pannakara Thero.
Ultimately, one is left wondering whether this walk was also being used to subtly project the idea that there exists another form of Buddhism - or another kind of monk -different from what is commonly seen in Sri Lanka. There also seemed to be an attempt, whether intentional or not, to suggest that these monks are somehow more peaceful or more refined than local monks.
If such impressions did arise, then it is clear that this was less the doing of the monks themselves and more the result of others politicising their peace walk.
In the end, what can perhaps be said about Sri Lanka is this: almost anything that comes here eventually takes on a different form. Its original meaning gets distorted, transformed into something else entirely. Even this peace walk seems to illustrate that pattern.
This is not necessarily because of anything these monks did. But the real question remains whether the message they brought - the idea they were trying to communicate -was ultimately transmitted in the way they intended.
What we should really ask ourselves is: why does this happen to almost everything that comes to Sri Lanka? Is it because of the country’s politics? Is it because of the people? Or is it rooted more deeply in our social structure, habits, attitudes, and cultural conditioning?
As Venerable Pannakara himself said at the end, rather than simply breathing out of habit, perhaps we should pause and reflect.
Why is it that almost everything that arrives in Sri Lanka begins to function differently from its original intention? Why does it drift away from its initial meaning?
Perhaps reflecting again on this peace walk might help us understand something about that.
Marcus Priyantha Perera
29/04/26
