Sanjay Mohindroo

Explore the dramatic, symbolic, and scriptural stories of assassination attempts on Gautama Buddha—revealing timeless lessons about ego, jealousy, betrayal, and the unshakable power of calm awareness.

What happens when the most peaceful man in history becomes the target of murder plots? Well… let’s just say calm was the real superpower. The story of the Buddha isn’t just one of serene enlightenment under the Bodhi tree — it’s also filled with jealousy, betrayal, danger, and even drama worthy of a Netflix series.

Today, we’ll walk through the stormy chapters where Gautama Buddha’s teachings threatened egos and power. In response, rivals tried to silence the light. They failed, of course. But in those failures lie lessons that are as relevant in the boardroom, on social media, and in our personal relationships today as they were in ancient India.

Enter the Antagonist: Devadatta’s Fall from Grace

The Cullavagga of the Vinaya Pitaka (VII.3–4) describes Devadatta’s schemes against the Buddha.

Devadatta — cousin, disciple, rival — is the antagonist here. Initially, he practiced sincerely. He meditated with power, developed supernatural abilities, and was admired. But as the Buddha’s fame spread across kingdoms, Devadatta’s pride twisted into envy. He wanted not just influence but authority.

He proposed five stricter ascetic rules (sleeping outdoors, eating only vegetarian food, etc.), asking to lead the Sangha. When the Buddha refused, Devadatta snapped. His pride couldn’t accept “no.”

Modern Analogy: Think of that ambitious coworker who starts off as your biggest fan, then suddenly wants your position. The ego can transform admiration into rivalry overnight. Devadatta’s story is the timeless caution: spiritual pride can be deadlier than ignorance itself.

Assassins, Rocks, and Elephants — Oh My!

The First Attempt: Assassins for Hire

Vinaya Pitaka reference (VII.3): Devadatta hired mercenaries to kill the Buddha. But when each one approached, they were struck not by fear but by the Buddha’s serenity. His calm gaze and compassionate speech disarmed them. Instead of blood on their hands, they left with folded palms.

Lesson: Anger collapses in the presence of genuine compassion. Imagine confronting your harshest critic not with insults but with calm clarity — often, it’s their rage that dissolves, not yours.

The Second Attempt: A Boulder on the Path

Cullavagga VII.4: On Gijjhakūṭa (Vulture Peak), Devadatta rolled a boulder toward the Buddha. The rock split, and only a fragment grazed his foot. Buddhist texts emphasize this as the only injury the Buddha suffered after his Enlightenment.

His response? No cursing. No vengeance. Only a teaching: “Suffering arises, but it passes. Do not cling to pain, for even it is impermanent.”

Modern Analogy: Think of the last time someone tried to derail you with gossip or backstabbing. Did you bleed emotionally? Yes. Did it define you? Only if you let it. The Buddha’s wounded foot is a metaphor: even the enlightened are not immune to hurt, but they refuse to be defined by it.

The Third Attempt: The Mad Elephant, Nāḷāgiri

Perhaps the most cinematic of them all. Devadatta released the royal elephant Nāḷāgiri, made drunk with alcohol, into a street where the Buddha was walking. The crowd screamed and scattered.

But the Buddha stood still, radiating metta (loving-kindness). Buddhist texts say his energy enveloped the beast. Nāḷāgiri slowed, bowed, and placed his trunk at the Buddha’s feet.

Dhammapada verse 223: “Conquer anger by love, evil by good; conquer the miser with generosity, and the liar with truth.”

Modern Analogy: The elephant is rage itself. Maybe your workplace has a “charging elephant” — someone storming in, fueled by ego or intoxication. Meeting fury with fury escalates chaos. Meeting it with presence can calm the storm.

Poisoned Offerings and Black Magic Shadows

Beyond Devadatta, folklore speaks of enemies attempting subtler methods. In some accounts, rivals tried to poison his food. Others turned to sorcery, crafting curses and rituals. Some even plotted to trap him under collapsing halls.

Every plan failed. Why? Because the Buddha’s strength wasn’t physical escape. It was conscious equanimity. In Buddhist cosmology, even devas (celestial beings) are said to have intervened, reinforcing the idea that the Dharma protects those who live in alignment with it.

Modern Parallel: Think of online “troll armies” or toxic negativity in digital spaces. The Buddha’s story reminds us: you don’t have to absorb the poison. Sometimes, calm detachment is the antidote.

Calm Amid Chaos: The Real Power of Presence

The Buddha didn’t retaliate. He didn’t sue Devadatta, didn’t plot revenge, didn’t weaponize followers. His only shield was awareness. His only sword was compassion.

Majjhima Nikāya 21 (Kakacūpama Sutta): “Even if bandits were to saw you limb from limb with a two-handled saw, he who gave rise to a mind of hate toward them is not carrying out my teaching.”

Let that sink in: even dismemberment, in his eyes, did not justify hatred. This is radical presence.

Modern Analogy: In politics, sports, or business, the greatest leaders aren’t those who scream the loudest, but those who remain calm when everyone else is losing their heads. Presence isn’t passive — it’s active mastery of response.

Devadatta’s Fate — And the Ultimate Redemption

Devadatta’s schemes eventually backfired. The Sangha rejected him, his health declined, and he died remorseful. In some traditions, he was swallowed by the earth itself — a striking symbol of unchecked ego collapsing under its own weight.

Yet the Buddha declared: Devadatta would, in a distant future, become a Buddha named Devarāja. This teaching reframes the story: even the greatest betrayer is not eternally damned. Redemption is universal.

Lesson: Buddhism isn’t about punishing enemies. It’s about transforming them. The same energy that destroys can, in another lifetime, awaken.

Be the Stillness in the Storm

If you think walking the spiritual path means a life of ease, think again. Gautama Buddha was nearly assassinated multiple times — by his own cousin!

But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t fold. He just kept walking. Because when you carry peace inside, the storms outside lose their power.

So the next time life hurls a boulder your way, or a wild “elephant” charges down your lane, or betrayal stabs you in the back — remember: you’re not here to fight the storm. You’re here to be the calm at its center.

With presence.

With purpose.

With peace.

Lessons for Today

·       Don’t fuel the fire. Meeting anger with anger only doubles the blaze. Try silence or kindness instead.

·       Pain is not identity. A wound doesn’t define you — your response does.

·       Stay grounded. When chaos charges at you like Nāḷāgiri, anchor yourself in calm presence.

·       Detach from poison. Whether it’s gossip, trolling, or negativity — you don’t have to drink what’s offered.

·       Believe in redemption. Even those who betray you may transform in time. Don’t close the door forever.

What Would Buddha Do?

·       Faced with betrayal? He’d recognize envy as suffering, not attack.

·       Hit by life’s “boulders”? He’d breathe, accept the pain, and teach impermanence.

·       Surrounded by rage? He’d radiate loving-kindness until the storm softened.

·       Encountering enemies? He’d see their potential, not their current state.

The real question is: when your own Devadatta appears in life, will you feed their fire — or bow like Nāḷāgiri to the stillness within?