Division: Why Does One Capable Vietnamese Person Succeed, but Three Fail?

There is a saying that has deeply troubled me from childhood until now: "One Japanese person loses to one Vietnamese person, two Japanese are equal to two Vietnamese, but three Japanese beat three Vietnamese." The adults told me that Vietnamese people are individually talented, but become weaker in groups because we do not know how to unite. How can one accept such a thing?

Today, sitting here, I wish to discuss with all followers of the Buddha a matter no one likes to talk about, yet it is a persistent ailment within ourselves: division. From the story of a bundle of chopsticks to the first schism in Buddhism, all tell us that somewhere, humans always prefer division... only to then find themselves lonely and defeated.

What is division? When does its seed take root?

Venerable Thích Chân Quang defines it clearly: Division means wanting to separate, to not share strength or heart with others to accomplish something together.

If you are solving math alone or painting alone, that is not division. But when there is a common task requiring joint effort—yet everyone goes in their own direction—that is division. Imagine three friends pooling capital for a business, but for some reason stand apart; the capital shrinks and success becomes difficult. Or consider the time of Đinh Tiên Hoàng, with twelve regional lords, each caring for the country but none willing to listen to another, leading to national chaos. Division is like this; it makes us weak.

In Buddhism, the first crack in the unity.

The teacher recounts that when the Buddha was in the world, thanks to his noble virtue, the Sangha was unified as one. But after he entered nirvana, when Venerable Mahākāśyapa convened to compile the scriptures, Venerable Pūrṇa disagreed, wanting to relax the rules. The two sides could not walk together and separated. From this, many sects arose, and to this day, Buddhism has numerous different schools and traditions.

Division also exists within Buddhism, not stability. It is unclear why humans always tend toward division.

Humans like division because they want to be the leader, the trailblazer, to be worshipped as a patriarch. The more they divide, the further they stray from the Buddha's original teachings.

The Dharma method is only the branch; compassion is the root.

Today, many Buddhists cling rigidly to their school: Northern tradition looks down on Southern, ascetics criticize Zen practitioners. The teacher reminds us:

The Dharma method is only the branch. The root lies in morality, in compassion. What do you practice? Zen. Do you have compassion and love for all beings? You say yes. Very well. Pure Land practice. Do you have compassion and love for all beings? You say yes. Very well.

If a Zen practitioner lacks loving-kindness, or a Buddha-reciter still harbors resentment, then that Dharma method cannot save them. The root of the path is morality, compassion, and contribution to life, not competition for influence.

Unity is strength; division is weakness.

The story of the bundle of chopsticks—an old man on his deathbed asks his sons to break them. No one can break the bundle, but when separated, each stick breaks easily. The father's words were few, but that image has lived in his descendants for generations.

Division always causes weakness.

Looking at history, the French ruled our country with only a few thousand troops by dividing the three regions, fostering religious discrimination, and corrupting internal affairs. When we are divided, the enemy wins easily. Conversely, with over a billion people, China, with each person contributing just one can of rice, had enough to launch a satellite. Collective strength can send humanity into space.

In warfare, to defeat Xiang Yu, Zhang Liang did not attack directly but made him suspicious of Fan Zeng. Internal division is the most insidious tactic. On the other hand, when unified, all the Buddhist congregations in Vietnam merged into one after liberation, thereby developing even more.

Do not compete; contribute.

Venerable Thích Chân Quang shares his experience from giving Dharma talks: "Often when meeting a Dharma lecturer, I remind myself to remember this: Contribute sincerely, do not compete."

Contributing is like this. For example, a temple practicing Pure Land has a stable and good practice. But if you have wisdom, you might notice a few gaps within. If conditions arise, you offer gentle advice, without trying to propagate your own method to suppress another's. That would just create division again.

Therefore, as Buddhists, we should never think of ourselves as advertising for our own temple or our own teacher. Simply practice sincerely, and when you see someone with the affinity, offer gentle advice. Vietnamese Buddhists are naturally endearing: wherever they see a temple, they bow; wherever they see a meditation hall, they kneel, not clinging to sectarianism. This is the seed of unity.

Dear followers of the Buddha, let us recall the Buddha's words:

There is no class when blood is equally red. When tears are equally salty, the Buddha taught thus.

When we love with all our hearts, we will no longer say "we" and "you," but only "us." Let us begin today, starting from our own home, from our own retreat, with a gentle smile, a word of sincere advice, and a heart free of praise or blame. In this way, we become true Buddhists, children of the Buddha who bring peace to the world.