The case of the supposedly reformed terrorist who killed people at a conference on offender rehabilitation raises fundamental questions. It should prompt us to look at the role of views and beliefs in light of the Buddha’s teachings

For anyone like me who’s worked with offenders on programmes aiming at compassionate rehabilitation, last November’s London Bridge attack was a deep shock. Usman Khan had participated in such a programme while serving a sentence for terrorist offences. Apparently, he’d excelled. Released on license, he attended a conference on offender rehabilitation only to turn on the organisers, killing two people and injuring three. 

A report on the attack published this week makes the point that terrorist offenders differ from other criminals. As a mindfulness teacher I’ve worked with many people serving sentences for serious violence. Often they’re from chaotic backgrounds and the violence comes from their emotional turmoil. 

I haven’t worked with terrorist offenders, but research tells us that they often live stable lives, get on well in prison and flourish on rehabilitation programmes. Emotions are certainly involved, but the difference is the political or religious convictions that justify their violence. 

Our beliefs shape our view of the world and our ideas of what’s ethically right. A courageous and upright person may do unspeakable things if it’s the right thing to do according to their belief system. So, whatever the right approach to managing the risk, engaging with actual or potential terrorists must involve addressing their beliefs. 

The Buddha’s contribution to this discussion was distinctive. Living in a culture of intense religious debate, he usually avoided speculative discussions of philosophy and theology. The central issues for him were why we’re drawn to believing one thing rather than another, and how we hold our beliefs. The danger is that we cling to our views like the monkey who puts his hand into a trap to grab a piece of fruit. Clenching his fist to hold onto the food, he can’t get it back through the hole. If only he could loosen his grip he’d be free, but his clinging traps him. 

We might say that a belief becomes an ideology when it hardens into something absolute and we cling to it like the monkey in the story. When our beliefs override our more humane impulses we can believe that the ends justify any means at all. That’s dangerous.

Buddhist beliefs can themselves harden in that way, but I find a continuing freshness in the Buddha’s suggestion that we explore how it feels to hold a certain belief. Is it constricting or liberating? Just as the ocean always tastes of salt, said the Buddha, the truth always tastes of freedom.