The Burmese Buddhist Temple can be seen from afar - Its towering presence at the end of Tai

Gin Road compels me and my group mates. As we near the temple, its intricate design
transforms from an amorphous blob to beautiful traditional Burmese architecture and carvings.
I’m slightly taken aback; it’s certainly a lot to take in for an outsider. Its gate beckons to us
authoritatively, as if a religious impulse is inviting us in. We oblige.

I’ve done some cursory prior research on the temple before visiting it today. I know its location
today is the result of a relocation from Kinta Road in the 1980s, originally built in 1875. The
photos of the temple’s original site feel as if they’re from another era - A small, run-down house
down the street. Today the temple has 4 storeys including a basement, with a carved roof of
Burmese Teak and statues strewn across the compound. It shows the dialectical process of
Burmese tradition with contemporary construction - It’s a very modern building, with air-con and
function rooms, but wears its cultural and religious heritage as a badge of honour.

We’ve chosen to visit the temple on an off-peak hour. It’s relatively sparse, save a few
caretakers and worshippers. I notice someone tending the Bodhi tree, and enquire as to its
significance. It’s the tree the Buddha found enlightenment under, he says, and motions to the
icons surrounding it: Those of the Burmese and Chinese Zodiacs. Why both? They receive a
wide array of worshippers, even non-Burmese Buddhists, he says. I note that down as
interestingly progressive. It reflects the evolving nature of religion in the contemporary world,
how Burmese Buddhism has adapted to its situation in Singapore to be multi-ethnic and cultural
whilst preserving a distinctly Burmese identity. The temple is even a National Heritage Site.

Just as I finish my conversation with the caretaker, my friend motions me towards the steps of
the temple. Even from the outside, the temple’s main attraction is visible: A 3.3 metre-tall
Buddha statue made of marble, weighing 10 tonnes. The marble was bought by U Kyaw Guang,
the first trustee of the temple himself, carved in 1918 and transported to Singapore from
Mandalay in 1921, remaining the largest marble Buddha statue outside of Myanmar today. As
we step inside the temple, the Buddha statue imposes a sense of grandeur upon itself. But what
I find most interesting about both the statue and the construction of the temple is that it seems
to be fueled by rich Burmese businessmen. The history of the temple can be traced through its
benefactors, starting with its founder, U Thar Hnin. As is the case with many religions in today’s
world, capitalism seems to be its biggest friend. I’m reminded of how the spread of capitalism is
conducive to the spread of religion, and the prevalence of religious entrepreneurs gave rise to
the commodification and spread of religion across Asia, helping social and economic
development amongst the religious community. Nowhere is it more apparent than in the case of
the Burmese Buddhist Temple.

We don’t stay in the temple for long, or explore its various floors; it’s a hot day and we’ve got
many sites to cover. But as the day goes on, the Burmese Buddhist Temple prominently lingers
in my mind. I’m aware of the political situation in Myanmar today as a result of the coup, and
wonder if the temple or its worshippers deal with its effects. It’s a faux pas to ask them upfront,
so I take the time to read through its newsletters when I get back home, where any sort of
information of this kind is most likely to be found.

Notably, the Burmese Buddhist Temple was founded in Singapore before the ‘division’ of
Theravada Buddhism in Burma in the 1980s. The state-sanctioned Buddhism of the Burmese
military coup, or the popular vipassanâ movement in opposition, cannot be readily found in the
temple and its worshippers. The temple somehow exists in a world divorced from political
intrigue.

As expected, I find nothing explicit referencing the political situation in Myanmar today.
Interestingly, however, in the Nov 2018 newsletter, a guide to vipassanâ meditation can be
found, as well as teachings that ‘Those who offend the innocent come to grief.’ I wonder what to
make of it. Maybe the temple has its own way of communicating with the forces of change,
outwardly positioning itself as neutral while teaching in line with the progressive line, perhaps a
way for the Burmese diaspora in Singapore to show their support.

This fact I find the most interesting about the temple. It shows to me the significance of religion
in the political and social world, and how it can both be a bane and a boon to change. Above all,
I’m struck by an otherworldly sense of sublimity by the temple, and the all-encompassing power
of religion.