Devadatta’s Third Attempt to Kill the Buddha

That Devadatta had tried to kill the Buddha was now common knowledge among the Sangha. Understandably they were quite upset, and had the Buddha under constant guard. They were also performing paritta, which are protective recitations. In the Pali Canon, several short discourses have been designated as paritta because it is believed that their recitation will bring about blessings and ward off misfortune, particularly the ill-will of others. One of the most well known of the paritta is the Metta Sutta, the Discourse on Loving-Kindness, which expresses the cultivation of loving-kindness for all beings. In the Metta Sutta the Buddha taught the kind of attitudes and actions that exemplify one who is filled with loving-kindness. The Buddha taught his followers “…to be able and upright, straightforward and gentle in speech. Humble and not conceited, contented and easily satisfied. Unburdened with duties and frugal in their ways. Peaceful and calm, wise and skillful, not proud and demanding in nature.” Further on the Buddha provided a series of wishes that one should make for the sake of all sentient beings starting with, “In gladness and in safety, may all beings be at ease,” and later on, “Let none deceive another, or despise any being in any state. Let none through anger or ill-will wish harm upon another. Even as a mother protects with her life her child, her only child, so with boundless heart should one cherish all living beings; radiating kindness over the entire world: Spreading upward to the skies, and downward to the depths; outward and unbounded, freed from hatred and ill-will.” (Translation by Sharon Salzburg) Because the Buddha regarded all beings he met with loving-kindness, he inspired those who came into his presence to also radiate such feelings for all beings. Such was the power of the Buddha’s loving-kindness, that all but the icchantika would be unable to sustain their murderous ill-will in the Buddha’s presence. Even killers like Angulimala or the assassins sent by Devadatta to kill the Buddha experienced a tremendous change of heart in the Buddha’s presence and ended up becoming his disciples. For this reason the Buddha was confident that he would not be murdered and counseled the monks so that they would not worry.

The monks heard: “It seems that Devadatta has tried to murder the Blessed One.” They walked up and down and round and round the Blessed One’s dwelling. They made a loud noise, a great clamor, performing recitations for the guarding, safeguarding and protection of the Blessed One. When he heard this, he asked the venerable Ananda: “Ananda, what is this loud noise, this great clamor, this sound of recitation?”

“Lord, the monks have heard that Devadatta has tried to murder the Blessed One,” and he told what they were doing.

“Then, Ananda, tell those monks in my name: ‘The Master call the venerable ones.’

“Even so, Lord,” the venerable Ananda replied. And he went to the monks and told them: “The Master calls the venerable one.”

“Even so,” they replied. And they went to the Blessed One. The Blessed One said to them: “It is impossible, monks, it cannot happen, that anyone can take a Prefect One’s life by violence. When Perfect Ones attain final nirvana, it is not through violence on the part of another. Go to your dwellings, monks; Perfect Ones need no protecting.” (Adapted from Life of the Buddha, pp. 262-263)

In the meantime, Devadatta was preparing one more attempt to kill the Buddha. Presumably this occurred when the Buddha was well enough to walk again on the morning alms rounds.

At that time there was a savage elephant at Rajagriha called Nalagiri, a man-killer. Devadatta went into Rajagriha to the elephant stables. He said to the mahouts: “We are known to the king and influential. We can get those in low places promoted, and we can get food and wages increased. So when the monk Gautama comes down this road, let the elephant Nalagiri loose into the road.” “Even so, Lord,” they replied.

Then when it was morning, the Blessed One dressed, and taking his bowl and outer robe, he went into Rajagriha for alms with a number of monks. Then the Blessed One entered that road. The mahouts saw him, and they turned the elephant loose into the road. The elephant saw the Blessed One coming in the distance. When he saw him, he raised his trunk, and with his ears and tail erect, he charged towards the Blessed One.

The monks saw him coming in the distance. They said: “Lord, the savage elephant Nalagiri, the man-killer, is loose in the road. Lord, let the Blessed One turn back; Lord, let the Sublime One turn back.”

“Come, monks, do not be afraid. It is impossible, it cannot happen, that anyone can take a Perfect One’s life by violence. When Perfect Ones attain final nirvana, it is not through violence on the part of another.”

A second and third time the monks said the same thing and received the same answer.

Now at that time people in the palaces and houses and huts were waiting in suspense. Those of them without faith or confidence, the unwise and indiscreet, said: “The Great Man who is so handsome will get hurt by the elephant.” And the faithful and confident, the wise and discreet, said: “Soon tusker will be contending with tusker.” (Ibid, pp. 263-264)

I can only note that Nalagiri must either have been moving in slow motion, or else the road he was charging down was extremely long for all of this conversation between the Buddha and the monks to have occurred, and for all the people in town to have time to speculate on what would happen when Nalagiri reached the Buddha. Of course, there is more than a little dramatic license at work in this telling of the story, assuming that it was based on a literal event in the first place.

Then the Blessed One encompassed the elephant Nalagiri with thoughts of loving-kindness. The elephant lowered his trunk and he went up to the Blessed One and stood before him. The Blessed One stroked the elephant’s forehead with his right hand and addressed him with these stanzas:

 O elephant, do not attack a tusker,

For it is hurtful to attack a tusker;

There is no happy destiny beyond

For one who kills a tusker.

Have done with vanity and recklessness;

The reckless have no happy destiny.

So do you act in suchwise that you go

To a happy destination.

The elephant Nalagiri took the dust of the Blessed One’s feet with his trunk and sprinkled it on his head, after which he retreated backwards for as long as the Blessed One was in sight. Then he went to the elephant stables and stood in his own place. It was thus that he was tamed. Now at that time people sang this stanza:

 Some tame by means of sticks,

And some with goads and whips;

But here a Sage has tamed a tusker,

Using neither stick nor weapon.

(Ibid, p. 264)

Whether something like this actually happened or not, the whole incident seems to be a way of dramatizing the Buddha’s confidence and the power of his loving-kindness to tame even a murderously enraged animal. Assuming for a moment that this incident actually occurred, why didn’t the Buddha simply step out of the way? I don’t think it was simply a matter of self-confidence or wanting to perform a miracle. Nalagiri was not just a danger to the Buddha, but to all of the people of Rajagriha. He had to be tamed before someone was hurt or killed, and the Buddha knew that in that moment he was the only one who could do it. Furthermore, if he did not tame Nalagiri, undoubtedly the soldiers from the palace would have been sent out to kill the animal. So the Buddha was also saving Nalagiri’s life as well. In this, one can contrast the hatred and cruelty of Devadatta, who did not care who else got hurt as long as he succeeded in his ambitions, with the Buddha, whose compassion encompassed all the people of Rajagriha and even the killer-elephant.   

As for Devadatta, he had gone too far, and now all the people of Rajagriha knew what he was up to. Even King Ajatashatru knew that it was time to distance himself from the Buddha’s murderously ambitious cousin. Devadatta was cut-off. No longer could Devadatta rely on the king’s patronage, and no longer would he wield any influence in the palace. If Devadatta had not already left the Sangha to form a schismatic group he would undoubtedly have been expelled for his multiple attempts to murder of the Buddha.

People were annoyed, they murmured and protested: “This wretch Devadatta is actually wicked enough to try to kill the monk Gautama who is so mighty and powerful!” And Devadatta’s gain and honor shrank away while the Blessed One’s gain and honor grew greater. (Ibid, p. 264)