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Vol.5 No. 4,April 95

WORDS OF DHAMMA

Dandeneke damayanti, ankusehi kasahi ca;
Adandena asetthena— aham dantomhi tadina.
Majjhima Nikaya II, 105

There are some that tame with beatings, Some with goads and some with lashes; One who has neither rod nor weapon— I am tamed by such as he.

  Majjhima Nikaya II, 105

              Freedom Behind Bars: Vipassana in Prison

In April 1994, a ten-day Vipassana course for over a thousand people was held inside the confines of Tihar Prison in New Delhi. The course was conducted by Mr. & Mrs.S.N. Goenka, with 13 assistant teachers. This was the largest Vipassana course to be held in modern times, inside or outside a jail.

With about 9,000 inmates, Tihar is one of the largest prisons in Asia. The site covers several hundred acres in a district of suburban New Delhi. Because of the difficulty of administering so large a population, Tihar is divided into four separate jails. Inmates from all four jails participated in the April course.

The course was the culmination of events which began about 20 years ago. The first Vipassana courses in an Indian prison were conducted in 1975 and 1977 by S.N. Goenka at the Central Jail, Jaipur, at the invitation of Mr. Ram Singh, the then Home Secretary to the Government of Rajasthan. Mr. Ram Singh, himself an enthusiastic practitioner of Vipassana, was eager to see if the technique could be effective in solving problems in society and government, as well as the problems faced by individuals.

The results of these two courses, and a course for police officials at the Police Academy in Jaipur, were very encouraging. However, due to the change of government in the state and transfer of key officials, the Vipassana program in the jails could not be pursued further.Mr. Ram Singh subsequently retired from government service and was one of the first assistant teachers appointed by S.N. Goenka. When he told S.N. Goenka of his disappointment that prison courses were not continuing, S.N. Goenka responded: “Don’t worry. The seeds of Vipassana have been sown. The time will come again.”

The time did come, after nearly fifteen years, when an assistant teacher course was held at the Jaipur Central Jail in 1990. This was followed by six prison courses in the state of Gujarat starting in 1991. The courses have been the subject of several sociological studies which have concluded that Vipassana has a marked positive impact on behaviour and attitude. One very common feeling–the desire for revenge–is noticeably reduced or entirely eliminated when prisoners practice Vipassana. Relations among the prisoners and jail staff become much more harmonious, and self-discipline dramatically improves, decreasing the need for aggressive supervision and punishment by the jail officials.

How Vipassana Came to Tihar

To organize a course for one thousand was an ambitious undertaking. It was the result of a unique collaboration among several people devoted to improving the conditions of some of society’s most unfortunate members. In July 1993, Ram Singhji received a letter from his former government colleague, Mr. M.L. Mehta, the Additional Secretary in the Ministry of Home Affairs, Government of India. He asked if a Vipassana course could be organized in the Central Jail, Tihar. This invitation from the Government of India was reinforced by the enthusiastic support of the Inspector General (IG) of Prisons, New Delhi, Dr. Kiran Bedi.

Mrs. Bedi is a remarkable social reformer who is well-known in India for her unique 21-year career as a police officer. Now 44 years old, she was the first woman inducted into the Indian Police Service in 1972. She is known for her courage, dynamic energy and profound devotion to helping suffering people. During the April course, S.N. Goenka said publicly that he wished to call her “Karuna” Bedi because of her deep compassion.

Mrs. Bedi was appointed as IG in May, 1993. The situation in Tihar Prison, as described by the Superintendent of Jail No. 2, Mr. Tarsem Kumar, was bleak: “To add to the acute problems of overcrowding, inadequate sanitation, insufficient breathing space, etc., the jail staff were trained under the old rules where the outlook was to oppress, deprive, isolate and punish. The staff believed that oppressing and imposing maximum restrictions on the inmates would make them suffer, so that once a prisoner was released he would not commit crimes again for fear of being sent back to this hell. But they were mistaken. After their release, many prisoners did return, and some prisoners who were incarcerated for petty crimes resorted to more serious crimes after their release, having learned in Tihar how to become bigger and better criminals. One of the members of the Planning Commission of India correctly remarked that the prisoners at Tihar were doing their PhD in crime. Tihar was breeding criminals, not reformed citizens.”

From the first day of her new appointment, Mrs. Bedi declared that she wanted to turn Tihar Prison into an ashram within six months. She immediately set about instituting a series of wide-ranging, effective, and startlingly innovative reforms, which quickly resulted in a dramatic improvement in the atmosphere of the prison. Mrs. Bedi’s exemplary leadership and pathbreaking reforms are motivated by a strong conviction that prisons should be institutions of rehabilitation, not punishment.
As expressed by Superintendent Kumar: “She wanted everyone to feel that the prisoners were not rejected by society but were a part of it, and if they were ready to change, they would be welcomed with open arms. She told us: ‘There is little difference between the inmates and ourselves, a very small thread. They lost their balance of mind. We have also lost our tempers, but thankfully we are not held inside this prison. I believe everyone, if given a chance, will try to change, and I want to give them that chance...We need to create trust and confidence instead of distrust...If we succeed in using understanding and compassion in helping them to change, the percentage of recidivism [relapse into criminal behavior] will dramatically decrease, and society will be the beneficiary.”

One day in the early weeks of her posting, Mrs. Bedi was on her prison rounds with one of her assistant superintendents. Reflecting on the agony she saw everywhere, she reflected aloud: “How can we find a solution to these prisoners’ emotional problems?” Her jail colleague replied: “Ma’am, why don’t you try Vipassana? This is what has helped me to decrease my anger.” By seeming coincidence, Mr. M.L. Mehta from the Home Ministry had recommended Vipassana to her at about the same time. Mrs. Bedi made inquiries and contacted Mr.Ram Singh in Jaipur. He advised her that the first step for introducing Vipassana into Tihar would be for some of the jail officials to take a course.

Mrs. Bedi made a deliberate decision to send some of the angriest members of her jail staff to attend a Vipassana course. These officials were authoritarian and short-tempered, feeling themselves to be above correction. Yet when they returned from their ten-day Vipassana course, their interactions were markedly more congenial and cooperative, as confirmed by their colleagues and the inmates alike. This gave Mrs. Bedi and the other jail coordinators growing confidence that Vipassana was indeed an effective method of reform.

The Early Courses in the Prison

The first course at Tihar was held in late November, 1993 in Jail No. 2, which houses the hard core of the Tihar population: the ten percent who have been convicted of crimes. The course was conducted by Mr.Ram Singh and two other assistant teachers. Ninety-six prisoners and 23 jail staff participated. On the closing day, over an open microphone, many prisoners expressed their joy at finding a technique for self-liberation in this unlikely setting. Many said they realized through practicing Vipassana that they were responsible for their own actions. They said that they no longer harbored feelings of revenge but rather, blessed those responsible for sending them to Tihar because this brought them into contact with Vipassana.

The prisoners jokingly told Mr.Ram Singh that they would not let him leave the jail until he promised to hold more Vipassana courses there soon. Mr. Ram Singh was slightly at a loss; he did not think it possible to confirm dates for more courses on such short notice. However, S.N. Goenka was contacted, and arrangements were quickly made for six assistant teachers to go to Tihar on New Year’s Day, 1994 to conduct four simultaneous courses in three jails.

A total of about 300 prisoners participated in the January courses. News of this was picked up by the national wire service and appeared in all the major newspapers in India. Reports also appeared in the international press. Mrs. Bedi stated publicly that she had been searching for a method which would bring about a tranformation of the prisoners, and that she had found it in Vipassana meditation.

Privately, Mrs. Bedi told Mr.Ram Singh that she wanted the entire prison population to experience the benefits of the practice; and, that at the rate they were going, this would take years. She suggested that a large course for one thousand prisoners be held. Mr. Ram Singh recounted a prediction made by S.N. Goenka’s teacher, Sayagyi U Ba Khin, of Rangoon, Burma. When S.N. Goenka first came to India to teach Vipassana in 1969, his courses were very small. Fourteen people attended the first course. After about a year, word spread rapidly, and the numbers of people requesting Vipassana camps started to grow. Word reached Sayagyi back in Burma that S.N. Goenka had taught a course for 100 people (a surprisingly large number in those days). Sayagyi declared: “One day Goenka will teach 1,000 people!” When Mr.Ram Singh remembered this prediction, he reflected that it might become a reality within the walls of Tihar Prison.

The Course for One Thousand

Mrs. Bedi set about selecting and organizing a site suitable for accommodation of over one thousand jail inmates, Mr.& Mrs S.N. Goenka, and a large team of assistant teachers. A very large hall was needed for daily group sittings and evening discourses. In Jail No. 4 two new buildings were nearing completion and there were several wards housing prisoners in a compact area. This site was selected for the upcoming large course. The Public Works Department of the Government hastened the completion of the new buildings with assistance of several skilled jail inmates. With the productive and cooperative spirit now prevailing in the prison, the inmates dug drainage ditches, laid pipes, weeded and levelled a large area and helped in erection of a huge shamiana—an open air tent. To put over one thousand prisoners together in a tent without coercive vigil was a high security risk, a stupendous task.

On the evening of April 4, some 1,003 male students gathered in the huge tent in Jail No. 4 to receive the opening instructions from S.N. Goenka. Simultaneously, the first Vipassana course for female prisoners began in Jail No. 1, attended by 49 inmates and conducted by two female assistant teachers. Thirteen male assistant teachers, each with a group of 75 to 100, helped to conduct the male course. They were assisted by a handful of trained workers from outside the prison, and about 60 “old student” prisoners serving for the first time.

Ninety percent of the inmates held at Tihar are “undertrials”–that is, those awaiting the outcome of their trials; the other ten percent are convicts. The majority of the students in the April courses were undertrials. They had been charged with crimes and offences ranging from drug trafficking and robbery to murder, terrorist acts and rape. They were from diverse religious backgrounds, including Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian, and Buddhist. More than one third were illiterate.

Twenty foreign inmates attended the male course; eight attended the female course. They were from many countries including Germany, Spain, France, Italy, Sri Lanka, Afghanistan, South Africa, Nigeria, Somalia, Tanzania, Senegal, Canada and Australia.

In the early hours of Day 1, a sudden storm—unusual for that time of year—descended. Rain and strong winds caused the ceiling and walls of the tent to collapse. All the rugs and meditation cushions were completely soaked. An emergency meeting of the assistant teachers was called at 3:30 a.m. to devise a way to save the course from total collapse: the hall was a shambles and strong gales still blew. When Mr.& Mrs.S.N. Goenka came to survey the scene they advised that the course program be continued and that everything would soon be all right.

Mr. Meena, the jail superintendent, arrived and an emergency jail public address system was commissioned to transmit the instructions and chanting into the barracks where all the assistant teachers went to meditate and guide the inmates. After breakfast, the weather began to clear, and a massive salvage operation was launched. A large team of prisoners not attending the course began the daunting task of rehabilitating the “hall.” They moved more than 1,000 cushions outside in the sun to dry, sewed numerous sections of torn material, reinstalled ceiling fans and electric wires, and mopped up areas of standing water. By 7 p.m., the tent was ready for the students to reassemble for S.N. Goenka’s first discourse. The first major obstacle had been successfully overcome!

There were many other difficulties involved in managing a retreat for so many people in basic and overcrowded conditions. Despite the inconveniences, the course proceeded smoothly, and by the last day it was apparent that something unique had been achieved. Over ten percent of the prison had just completed a Vipassana course, including many who might never have come into contact with the teaching under other circumstances.

This was the largest course S.N. Goenka has conducted in a quarter-century of teaching Vipassana. Every evening he gave discourses in Hindi, and answered questions from the students for 30 to 45 minutes. The discourses were videotaped for broadcast by Zee TV, a pan-Asian cable television company.

The course paved the way for the opening of the first permanent centre for the practice of Vipassana in a prison. After the final meditation on April 15, the assembly of about 1,100 students, jail staff and guests remained to witness the inauguration of the new centre in Jail No. 4, which S.N. Goenka named “Dhamma Tihar.” Within three weeks, the centre began to hold two ten-day courses per month for students from all four jails.

Vipassana is now recognized as an effective method for reforming prisoners. After the success of the January Tihar courses, the Ministry of Home Affairs called a meeting of the Inspectors General of Prisons from all over India, and a proposal was adopted to introduce Vipassana as a reform measure in all the prisons in the country.

During the course, S.N. Goenka was asked by a journalist why Vipassana is good for prisoners. He responded: “Vipassana is good for everyone! We are all prisoners of the negative habit patterns of our own minds. The practice of Vipassana liberates us from this bondage...Vipassana is a tool which can help all suffering people, those who are behind bars separated from their families, and those who are not.”  He said: “What is happening at Tihar is a message of hope which will benefit the whole world.”

Twenty In, Twenty Out, Twenty Strong

 January 31, 2002

Along with two other men, old students, I had the good fortune to serve on the recent ten-day Vipassana course at the Donaldson maximum-security prison in Alabama. It was one of the most moving and inspiring events of my life. It was certainly a challenge for the twenty students and everyone involved. But at the end of the course, an inmate commented, "Twenty in, twenty out, twenty strong!"

Donaldson is the end of the line in the Alabama State Department of Corrections, a system in the news last summer as underfunded, understaffed and overcrowded. That a ten-day Vipassana course was held at this facility, in the buckle of the Bible belt, is astonishing in itself. Donaldson is a very dangerous place, a dumping ground for the most troublesome prisoners. Before the course started we had a security briefing during which we were instructed on how to handle ourselves should we be taken hostage. During our stay we were repeatedly reminded, "Always remember where you are; they're nice guys but they'll kill you." Not a comforting thought; however, we naively felt safe in our meditation haven. At times the dichotomy of the situation seemed almost surreal: three of us, locked down in the middle of this hell realm, assisting in bringing the lofty teaching of Dhamma to these needy and deeply suffering human beings. We sometimes laughed at the irony of the situation, yet we were keenly aware of its serious nature.

We were also aware that this was perhaps the first time ever that "free civilians" had entered a maximum-security prison and been locked down with the inmates for such a long period of time. It was a commendable and courageous decision on the part of the warden that allowed this to happen.

Our sleeping quarters were in a guard tower directly above the gym where the course was held. We slept on mattresses on the concrete floor. There was an open toilet and sink, which provided the basic requirements but little privacy. Each night the correctional officer (the CO, or guard) locked us down, separating us from the inmate-students.

On day one, during the routine afternoon head count, which occurred in the middle of the 2:30 to 3:30 group sitting, an announcement crackled over the COs' radios: "West gym reporting. Head count 20, and all meditating." One can imagine the speculation and interest this created in the rough prison environment. We learned that bets had been made about how many would complete these ten arduous days. Very few, if any, would have predicted "twenty in, twenty out, twenty strong." Our students, certainly not inmates in our eyes, were an inspiration not only to us but also to the COs and the administration of the prison. The COs especially were dumbfounded by what was going on before them. Their respect and admiration for their captives soared as the days passed, and they soon became protective allies. On several occasions they reprimanded inmates, and fellow officers also, for intruding into our students' silent Dhamma bubble. They were also intrigued by the delicious vegetarian food we were serving the inmates-this prison serves no milk, bread, fresh veggies, or any fruit, and breakfast is from 2:00 to 3:00 a.m. The first indication of the effect of the course came when the COs began to serve themselves food and sit down at the same tables and eat with the inmates-an unheard-of situation in such a hostile environment. When the weather turned cold, COs scrambled to find cardboard to block a drafty vent close to the students' beds. These bulky men, who had no doubt in the past used force on some of these inmates, were now serving them with such touching thoughtfulness. Other effects of the course must have rippled throughout the facility in ways that we shall never know.

As the course settled down and gained momentum, the strong and positive vibrations being created became powerfully tangible. Our students bravely faced their personal demons. For 10 to 12 hours each day, Vipassana took these earnest meditators deep into their subconscious minds where all inherent misery lies. One can only guess how difficult it was for these guys to face their past and present predicaments. We were unsure whether one student, who concerned us deeply, would stick with it for the duration. He was clearly "shut down," his face stiff and expressionless, his surly body language mimicking a caged animal. Our numerous efforts to encourage him and win his confidence were rebuffed with almost inaudible murmurs. This went on for days and finally, as often happens, the breakthrough came: a smile-the acknowledgment that he was now working deeply within-and a change in his posture. We felt relieved and joyous at his progress. Soon after silence was broken, this student spoke openly of his disturbed and violent past. It was a significant step in turning the tide of misery that had haunted him for so many years.

The efforts of these men were truly amazing as they battled the storms that inevitably arise during this deep process. Some corrections officials have called Vipassana courses a mental boot camp; others have likened them to a mental detoxification. It is no small feat to complete the full ten days. Yet, in spite of enormous difficulties, caused partly by the inadequate conditions-one shower, two toilets, and a sink-these guys hung in with determination and tenacity. It was obvious that suffering is a silent and constant companion in these men's lives, and clearly their awareness of it is a strong motivating factor. Sometimes we urged them to back off and work less intensely. One of the more seemingly unlikely students had spent 31 of his last 35 years in prison, and had endured numerous stabbings and beatings during his violent life. Yet this man took to meditation like the proverbial duck to water. Even during break periods he could be seen sitting in the makeshift meditation hall, moment by moment observing the realties that arose within. Part way through the course he grinned his toothless grin and proclaimed: "If it gets any better, I won't be able to stand it!"

At last, when it came time for the graduation ceremony (done only in prison and jail courses), there was apprehension about what these student-inmates might say. By now they were extremely joyous and excited at their own achievement. These are men who are much more familiar with the gloom of failure than the dizzy elation of success. Our concern was that, in their excitement, they would be inappropriately "over the top." But once again these guys came through. Each one of them rose to his feet and articulately told his story with heartfelt respect and thankfulness. Among the students were three imams (prayer leaders) of various Muslim traditions, as well as two devoted Gospel and Baptist followers. All spoke of how Vipassana had helped them gain a deeper and more meaningful perspective of their own religion. One man, who for much of the course had struggled with a deep fear that his anger would one day again overpower him and land him back in prison, turned to us with tears pouring down his face. His words were few, but the sense of remorse for his past actions, hope for the future, and gratitude for this teaching of Dhamma, were infinitely moving.

Just as ehi-passiko (come and see) works in the "free world," it also works in the prison environment. As the (now old) students moved back into the prison population, word of this transforming experience soon spread. As a result, 24 inmates have now signed up for the next course. The prison administration made it clear that they had made no announcements nor coaxed anyone into applying. COs and the warden have also indicated their desire to participate in a course.

The Donaldson administration has continued to support these men's efforts by setting aside two times each day when the students can go to a designated room for group sittings. Every Sunday, when the prison is quiet, they meditate continuously for three hours, starting at 5:30 a.m.

On May 16, at the end of the second course, Goenkaji will arrive at the prison to meditate with the students from both courses and talk to Donaldson staff and inmates, and Department of Corrections Officials.