The State and Zen Masters Eisai and Dagen
In order to discuss the relationship of Eisai (1141-1215) and Dagen (1200-1253) to the state, it is necessary to start with a brief description of the political situation at the beginning of the Kamakura period (1185-1333). This can be summarized in one word, turbulent. On the one hand, there was a power struggle between the traditional nobility, including the emperor, and an increasingly more powerful warrior class. Due to the nobility's own decadence, this struggle was one it was bound to lose, though the emperor would be retained as an important national symbol, albeit with increasingly limited powers.
The nobility's decadence was matched by that of the competing monastic institutions, which by then had accumulated large, tax-free estates defended by monk-soldiers (sahei). Holmes Welch alluded to this situation when he noted, "In China fighting monks were rare; in Japan they became a national institution."53 One caveat to this, however, is that many, if not most, of these monk-soldiers were in the nature of a hired mercenary force doing the bidding of their clerical masters, many of whom were court nobles themselves.
In any event, it was not unusual for major Buddhist monasteries to use their standing armies not only in power struggles with rival Buddhist institutions, but to press their demands on the government itself. The government, that is, the nobility, had no choice but to turn to the warrior class for protection, thus hastening the demise of its own political power. What power the reigning emperor had left was often exercised by a former emperor who had ostensibly retired to become a Buddhist monk but who continued to exercise power from behind monastic walls.
With the establishment of the Kamakura Shogunate (military government) in 1192, real political power came to be exercised by the leaders of the warrior class. Though there would be many internal upheavals, betrayals, and battles along the way, it was this class that continued to hold power through the Meiji Restoration of 1868. And it was to this class that the straightforward, vigorous, and austere doctrines and practice of Zen appealed. In addition, Zen had the advantage of being a direct import from China, thereby offering the new government an opportunity to escape the embrace of the large, nobility- dominated monastic institutions in the Kyoto area.
The Rinzai Zen sect introduced by Eisai would find greater acceptance in the new and former political power centers of Kamakura and Kyoto respectively. In fact, thanks to its powerful benefactors in these two centers, the Rinzai Zen sect would itself become a major landholder by the Muromachi period (1333-1573). Dagen's Soto Zen, on the other hand, found its major benefactors among provincial warrior lords. It was for this reason that the popular designations Rinzai Shogun (Rinzai of the Shogun) and Soto Domin (Soto of the Peasants) came to characterize the difference in social status of the two Zen sects.
With this background in mind, we can now examine Eisai's and Dagen's attitudes to the state. In his famous treatise Kazen Gokoku-ron (A Treatise on Protecting the Nation by Spreading Zen), Eisai argued that it was through the universal adoption of Zen teachings that the nation could be protected. In identifying Zen with the state, Eisai had an immediate concern in mind, that is, the need to seek state assistance in overcoming the strong opposition of other monastic institutions-especially the Tendai sect headquartered on Mount Hiei-to the introduction of new and competing sects into Japan.
Eisai's appeal did eventually succeed, with the result that the Kamakura Shogunate had the temple of Jufukuji built for him in Kamakura in 1200, and two years later the emperor had the temple of Kenninji built for him in Kyoto. However, this victory was tempered by the fact that the emperor also ordered him to erect shrines within Kenninji honoring both the Tendai and esoteric Shingon sects. In this connection, it is noteworthy that toward the end of his life, Eisai focused more and more on the conduct of esoteric rituals associated with the Tendai sect embodying, as they did, the promise of immediate, "this-worldly" benefits for his benefactors.
In the following years, the Rinzai Zen sect's connection to, and patronage by, the state would grow only stronger. To give but one example, the famous Rinzai master Muso Soseki (1275-1351) successfully sought Shogunal patronage to have one Ankokuji (Temple to Pacify the State) built in each of Japan's sixty-six regions and two islands. Muso himself was rewarded for his efforts by having the unique title of State Teacher (Kokushi) bestowed on him by no less than seven successive emperors.
On the Soto Zen side, Dagen designated the first temple he established in Japan upon his return from China as Kosho-gokokuji (Temple to Protect the State by Propagating the Holy Practice). Dagen also wrote a treatise titled Gokoku-shobogi (The Method of Protecting the State by the True Dharma). Although the contents of this latter treatise are no longer extant, its title, and Dagen's other writings on the same topic, suggests a similar position to that of Eisai (and probably for the same reason). For example, in the Bendowa section of his masterwork, the Shobogenzo (Treasury of the Essence of the True Dharma), Dagen wrote, "When the true Way is widely practiced in the nation, the various Buddhas and heavenly deities will continuously protect it, and the virtue of the emperor will exert a good influence on the people, thereby bringing peace,"54
Dogen, unlike Eisai, did not conduct esoteric rituals seeking worldly benefits, but this did not stop those who followed in his footsteps from introducing a similar element into Soto Zen. Even Zen practice, especially the practice of zazen, came to take on supposedly magical powers. As William Bodiford noted:
For powerful warrior patrons who prayed for military victories [italics mine] and economic prosperity, the purity of [Soto] monks ensured the efficacy of simple religious prayers (kito). For local villagers who expected the Zen masters to pacify evil spirits, summon rain, or empower talismans, the meditative powers (zenjoriki) of the monks energized simple folk magic.55
The chief abbots of Soto Zen head temples also quickly acceded to the custom of receiving the title of Zen master (Zenji) from the emperor, though it must be admitted that Dagen had himself accepted the gift of a purple robe from retired Emperor Gosaga (1220-72). Dagen did, however, refuse to accept it the first two times it was offered, and tradition states that he never wore the robe even after finally accepting it. The following poem, attributed to Dagen, is thought to express his sentiments in this regard:
Though the valley below Eiheiji is not deep,
I am profoundly honored to receive the emperor's command.
But I would be laughed at by monkeys and cranes
If I, a mere old man, were to wear this purple robe.56
During the Kamakura period, the same hierarchically ranked system of Five Mountains and Ten Temples (J. Gozan Jissetsu) was introduced into the Japanese Rinzai Zen sect as the system had been first established in China. By the Muromachi period there would be two such systems, one in Kyoto (which was superior in rank) and the second in Kamakura. As in China, however, the government expected something in return for its patronage. For example, Zen monks, with their knowledge of Chinese, were sent on diplomatic and commercial missions to China. They were also used to suppress unruly elements among the populace. In short, as Dumoulin noted, "The organization of the gozan temples of the Rinzai sect made immeasurable contributions to the political, social, and economic power of the state apparatus."57
Development of "Samurai Zen"
The reader will recall earlier discussions by D. T. Suzuki and others of how Shogun Hojo Tokimune (1251-84) sought strength from Zen to deal with the threat of a second Mongol invasion. Tokimune went for guidance to his spiritual mentor, Chinese Zen Master Sogen (Ch. Tsu-yiian, 1226-86), shortly before the expected invasion in 1281.
When Tokimune said, "The greatest event of my life is here at last," the master asked, "How will you face it?" Tokimune replied by merely shouting the exclamatory word Katsu! as though he were frightening all of his enemies into submission. Pleased with this show of courage, Sogen indicated his approval of Tokimune's answer by saying, "Truly, a lion's child roars like a lion."
A similar though somewhat lesser-known incident is recorded as having occurred at the time of the first Mongol invasion in 1274. This one involved a second Chinese Zen master by the name of Daikyu Shanen (Ch. Ta-hsui Cheng-nien, 1214-89). At the time, Daikyu directed Tokimune to solve the koan concerning Chao-chou (J. Jashu, 778-897) on whether or not a dog has the Buddha nature. Chao-chou's famous answer was Mu (literally, "nil" or "naught"). Tokimune is said to have solved this koan, "thereby releasing his mind to deal calmly with the grave issues of war and peace."58
Collectively, these two incidents appear to be the earliest indications of the unity of Zen and the sword in Japan, though it is noteworthy that neither of them involved Japanese Zen masters. That is to say, it was Chinese Zen masters who introduced the idea of the efficacy of Zen training in warfare, or at least in developing the right mental attitude for it. Both Daikyu and Sogen, themselves refugees from the Mongol conquest of China, were acting on the basis of a long Chinese tradition of Buddhist service to the state and the needs of its rulers.
UnlikeChina with its long history of government by civil administrators- that is, "Mandarins"-Japan, from the Kamakura period onward, was ruled by a warrior class composed of a Shogun (generalissimo) at the top, lesser feudal lords (daimyo), and the samurai armies they commanded. These early warriors, however, were a far cry from the Bushido-inspired ideal of the Tokugawa period. Instead, as Hee-jin Kim noted, they were "greedy, predatory, ruthlessly calculating, a strict business dealing with little or no sense of absolute loyalty and sacrifice."59 If Japan were ever to become and remain a unified nation at peace (albeit under warrior control), a code like Bushido had to arise and be relentlessly drilled into the heads of otherwise self-seeking warriors!
And who better to do the "drilling into" than Confucian-influenced Zen monks with their ethical system that emphasized unquestioning, self-less loyalty to one's superiors? A letter written by the famous Zen master Takuan (1573-1645) clearly reveals what Zen had to offer the samurai. The letter shows how the mind that has transcended discriminating thought, technically known in Zen as "no-mind" (mushin), can be identified with martial prowess, particularly in the use of the sword. Addressing the famous swordsman Yagyu Tajima no Kami Munenori (1571-1646), Takuan wrote:
"No-mind" applies to all activities we may perform, such as dancing, as it does to swordplay. The dancer takes up the fan and begins to stamp his feet. If he has any idea at all of displaying his art well, he ceases to be a good dancer, for his mind "stops" with every movement he goes through. In all things, it is important to forget your "mind" and become one with the work at hand.
When we tie a cat, being afraid of its catching a bird, it keeps on struggling for freedom. But train the cat so that it would not mind the presence of a bird. The animal is now free and can go anywhere it likes. In a similar way, when the mind is tied up, it feels inhibited in every move it makes, and nothing will be accomplished with any sense of spontaneity. Not only that, the work itself will be of a poor quality, or it may not be finished at all. Therefore, do not get your mind "stopped" with the sword you raise; forget what you are doing, and strike the enemy [italics mine].60
Takuan also placed stress on the warrior's acquisition of "immovable wisdom" (J. fudochi). He viewed this not as a static concept or the absence of movement but, on the contrary, as the immovable ground in which existed the potential for movement in all directions. For this reason, it was as applicable to the swordfighter's art as it was to the life of the Zen priest. "When the mind freely moves forwards and backwards, to the left and to the right, in the four and eight directions, if it clings to nothing, this is 'immovable wisdom."'61
In Fudo Mya-o (Skt. Acala-vidya-raja), the fierce-looking Hindu god introduced into Zen via esoteric Buddhism, Takuan saw the incarnation of his ideal of immovable wisdom. He described this figure as follows:
Fuda Mya-o holds a sword in his right hand and a rope in his left. His lips are rolled back revealing his teeth, and his eyes are full of anger. He thrusts violently at all evil demons who interfere with the Buddha Dharma, forcing them to surrender. He is universally present as a figure who protects the Buddha Dharma. He reveals himself to people as the embodiment of immovable wisdom.62
Although in Buddhism, Fudo's sword was originally a symbol of "cutting through" one's own desire and illusion, Takuan succeeded in transmuting this figure into a slayer of "evil demons who interfere with the Buddha Dharma," as well as into the embodiment of the swordsman's ideal of "immovable wisdom." In a short work titled Taia-ki (History of the Sword), Takuan also discussed the dual nature of the sword. He emphasized the "total freedom" of the Zen-trained swordsman "to give life or to kill."63 Takuan further advocated the absolute necessity for the warrior to sacrifice his self in the process of acquiring this freedom.
In light of the above, it is hardly surprising that Takuan also had something to say about the ever-present, overriding virtue of loyalty. To the Mysteries of Immovable Wisdom (Fudochi Shinmyo-roku) quoted above, Takuan added:
To be totally loyal means first of all to rectify your mind, discipline your body, and be without the least duplicity toward your lord. You must not hate or criticize others, nor fail to perform your daily duties .... If the spirit in which the military arts are practiced is correct, you will enjoy freedom of movement, and though thousands of the enemy appear, you will be able to force them to submit with only one sword. This is [the meaning of] great loyalty.64
As one of the greatest Zen masters of the Tokugawa period, Takuan's thought, including his emphasis on complete and selfless devotion to one's lord-would have a deep and lasting effect on his and later times.
Takuan was by no means the only Tokugawa Zen figure to interpret Zen in this manner. The same emphasis can also be seen in the teachings of Zen monk Suzuki Shosan (1579-1655). Shosan, born into a samurai family in the old province of Mikawa (present-day Aichi prefecture), originally fought on behalf of Tokugawa Ieyasu (1542-1616), founder of the Tokugawa Shogunate, at the major battle of Sekigahara in 1600, and at the sieges of Osaka Castle in 1614 and 1615. In 1621, after a period of guard duty at Osaka Castle, Shosan determined to enter the Zen priesthood and is thought to have been ordained by Rinzai master Daigu (1583-1668). His Rinzai ordination notwithstanding, Shosan went on to become a vigorous champion of the Soto sect, though he was never formally affiliated with it. 65
Like Takuan, Shosan taught that selflessness was the critical element of both true service and true freedom. It was only in overcoming the fear of death that true selflessness could be realized. In addressing samurai, Shosan urged them to practice tokinokoe zazen, that is, zazen in the midst of war cries. As the following quotation reveals, Shosan maintained that meditation that could not be applied to the battlefield was useless:
It's best to practice zazen from the start amid hustle and bustle. A warrior, in particular, absolutely must practice a zazen that works amid war cries. Gunfire crackles, spears clash down the line, a roar goes up and the fray is on: and that's where, firmly disposed, he puts meditation into action. At a time like that, what use could he have for a zazen that prefers quiet? However fond of Buddhism a warrior may be, he'd better throw it out if it doesn't work amid war cries.66
In terms of the subsequent development of "soldier-Zen" previously introduced in this book, it is also significant that Shosan clearly articulated the unity of samadhi power and the military arts. Shosan stated,
It's with the energy of Zen samadhi that all the arts are executed. The military arts in particular can't be executed with a slack mind. ... This energy of Zen samadhi is everything. The man of arms, however, is in Zen samadhi while he applies his skill. 67
As the phrase "all the arts" suggests, Shosan's admonitions were not reserved for warriors alone. In fact, Shosan insisted that the truth of Buddhism was to be found in any form of work or activity whatsoever. As the following passage makes clear, he believed that work itself could be equated with religious practice:
You must work in extremes of heat and cold-work with all your heart and soul. When you toil, your heart is at peace. In this way you are always engaged in Buddhist practice .... Every kind of work is Buddhist practice. Through work we can attain Buddhahood. There is no occupation that is not Buddhist.68
In his religious affirmation of the value of all forms of work, Shosan has come to be viewed in modern Japan as one of the major contributors to the development of a Japanese work ethic. While this may be true, as a Zen monk Shosan, like Takuan, also laid the foundations of not only "soldier Zen" but "corporate Zen" as well. And it must not be forgotten that in a classic work on Bushido titled Hagakure, Shosan is quoted as having said, "What is there in the world purer than renouncing one's own life for the sake of one's lord?"69
And speaking of the Hagakure, the reader will recall an earlier reference to this same work made by D. T. Suzuki. It was this work "that was very much that the government found unacceptable. More controversially, they aided in the maintenance and reinforcement of the traditional social discrimination that existed in Japanese society against so-called outcastes (burakumin). Although its members were physically indistinguishable from other Japanese, this pariah group had long been forced to live in separate villages and engage in what were considered lowly, if not "unclean." trades such as animal butchery, leather working, and refuse collection.
In a study done in 1989, Tomonaga Kenzo found that the Soto Zen sect had been one of the leading sects promoting social discrimination not only during the Tokugawa period but right up through the 1980s. Popular Soto sermons commonly included references to the Ten Fates Preached by the Buddha (Bussetsu Jurai). These "fates" included:
Short life-spans resulting from butchering animals.
Ugliness and sickness resulting from ritual impurities.
Poverty and desperation resulting from miserly thoughts.
Being crippled and blind as coming from violating the Buddhist precepts [italics mine].74
Further doctrinal support for social discrimination came from the highly esteemed Mahayana work, the Lotus Sutra. Specifically, in chapter 28 we are informed that anyone slandering this scripture or those who uphold it will be stricken with blindness, leprosy, missing teeth, ugly lips, flat noses, crooked limbs, tuberculosis, evil tumors, stinking and dirty bodies, and more "for life after life [italics mine]."75 Not only Soto Zen, but all of Tokugawa Buddhism engaged in the classic ruse of blaming the victims for their misfortunes. Thus, not only outcastes, but the sick and disabled as well were afflicted in their present lives as karmic retribution for the evil acts of their past lives. That is to say, they had it coming!
And this discrimination did not stop with their death, for Tomonaga discovered that 5,649 Soto temples (out of nearly 15,000) as late as 1983 maintained records indicating which families were or were not descended from outcastes, and that 1,911 temples identified such families on their tombstones. Such post-death discrimination has very real consequences for the descendants of outcastes who seek employment or hope to marry the son or daughter of a "good family." In these situations, at least until recently, many temples would cooperate with private investigators who were regularly hired to check into a person's personal background.
Having read this, the reader may recall Uchiyama Gudo's struggle in the Meiji period against an interpretation of karma that provided a religious justification for both social discrimination and social privilege. The failure of his struggle then meant it would not be until 1974 that the Soto sect would express a willingness to consider its role in sustaining this type of discrimination. Significantly, the sect's willingness to examine this issue did not come from within but from without, that is to say, from demands made by social activists associated with the Outcaste Liberation League (Buraku Kaiho Domei). This led, in 1982, to the establishment of a Human Rights Division within the sect's administrative headquarters, some 110 years after the Meiji government had, at least on paper, emancipated the outcastes in an edict issued in 1872.
Although at first glance this issue may not seem to be directly relevant, to the question of (Zen) Buddhism and war, it is, in fact, quite relevant. If a society succeeds in identifying a sizable segment of its own people as being inferior to other citizens, justifying this on moral and religious grounds, then it is not difficult to identify other religions, ethnic groups, nations, and others as being even more inferior. In this book we have seen how this happened to Christians, Russians, Koreans, Chinese, and eventually to American and English "savages." In the same connection, it should be noted that as early as 1611, Soto Zen documents referred to outcastes as hinin, that is to say, "nonhumans."76
Needless to say, discrimination in its various guises is hardly limited to either Japan or Buddhism. Indeed, it can be found to a greater or lesser degree, at one time or another, in all cultures and major world religions. But this does not lessen the tragedy that in this instance it was found among the adherents of a religion whose founder, Buddha Shakyamuni, so clearly advocated the equality of all human beings irrespective of t.heir birth, lineage, occupation, and so forth. For Shakyamuni, there was only one acceptable standard for judging others: their words and actions.
It is also noteworthy that it was as a direct consequence of establishing the Soto sect's Division of Human Rights that the Soto headquarters issued its official war apology and, in 1993, reinstated Uchiyama Gudo's clerical status. Both of these issues were seen as further examples of this sect's abuse of human rights.
For more than two hundred and fifty years, Zen, and Japanese Buddhism in general, remained locked in the warm but debilitating embrace of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Interestingly, the founder of the Tokugawa Shogunate, Tokugawa Ieyasu (1542-1616) was brought up in a Jodo (Pure Land) sect-affiliated family. Ieyasu himself regularly recited the name of Buddha
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a ship, Shakyamuni discovers that there is a robber intent on killing all five hundred of his fellow passengers. Shakyamuni ultimately decides to kill the robber, not only for the sake of his fellow passengers but also to save the robber himself from the karmic consequences of his horrendous act. In Shakyamuni's so doing, the negative karma from. killing the robber should have accrued to Shakyamuni but it did not, for as he explained:
Good man, because I used ingenuity out of great compassion at that time, I was able to avoid the suffering of one hundred thousand kalpas of samsara [the ordinary world of form and desire) and that wicked man was reborn in heaven, a good plane of existence, after death [italics mine ).79
Here we see one justification for the idea so often quoted by wartime Japanese Buddhist leaders that it is morally right "to kill one in order that many may live" (J. issatsu tasho).
The Upaya-kaushalya is by no means the only Mahayana sutra that has been historically interpreted as in some sense excusing, if not actually sanctioning, violence. The Jen-wang-ching (Sutra on Benevolent Kings) also states that one can escape the karmic consequences arising from such acts as killing others by simply reciting the sutra.
It is noteworthy that this latter sutra is also closely connected with the protection of the state. Section 5 of the sutra is, in fact, titled exactly that: "Section on the Protection of the State." This section claims to give Buddha Shakyamuni's detailed instructions to kings in order that they might ensure the protection of their kingdoms from both internal and external enemies. Armies, if needed, could be assembled and used with the assurance that the soldiers involved in the killing could later be totally absolved of the karmic consequences of their acts.
Although the above sutras provided a somewhat passive justification for Buddhist participation in warfare, this is not the case with the Sanskrit Mahaparinirvana Sutra, previously mentioned. In this sutra, Buddha Shakyamuni tells how he killed several Brahmins in a previous life in order to prevent them from slandering the Dharma. Once again, this is said to have been done out of compassion for the slain Brahmins, that is, to save them from the karmic consequences of their slander.
In a more aggressive vein, chapter 5 of the same sutra admonishes Mahayana followers to protect the Dharma at all costs, even if this means using weapons to do so and breaking the prohibition against taking life. This injunction is similar to that found in the Gandavyuha Sutra. Here, an Indian king by the name of Anala is singled out for praise because he is "said to have made killing into a divine service in order to reform people through punishment."80
In his seminal article "Le Bouddhisme et la guerre" (Buddhism and War), Demieville identified even further scriptural basis for Buddhist participation in killing and warfare. Demieville also pointed out the paradox that exists in this regard between the Southern Hinayana (i.e., Theravada) and Northern Mahayana schools: the Hinayana, which tends to condemn life, has remained strict in the prohibition of killing; but it is the Mahayana, which extols life, that has ended up by finding. excuses for killing and even for its glorification.81
CONCLUSION
State-Protecting Buddhism
As we have already seen, Buddha Shakyamuni himself praised a republic as the ideal form of the state. Further, Indian Buddhism prior to Ashoka was also clearly suspicious of monarchs, placing them in the same category as robbers, for both were capable of endangering the people's welfare. In this regard, Uchiyama Gudo's identification of Japan's imperial ancestors as people who "kill[ed] and rob[bed] as they went" harkens back to Buddhism's earliest attitudes.
According to early Buddhist legends, a ruler was to be selected by election, not by birth or divine right. Such an election represented a social contract between the ruler and his subjects in which the former was responsible for protecting the country and seeing to it that good was rewarded and evil punished. The underlying attitude expressed in these legends is consistent with Buddha Shakyamuni's own praise of the Vajjian state, for it provided its inhabitants with a voice in their governance.
It is noteworthy that in spite of various Mahayana sutras to the contrary, Japan's leaders were both well aware of, and adamantly opposed to, this earliest Buddhist attitude toward the state. The Shinto-influenced writer, Kitabatake Chikafusa (1293-1354) wrote:
The Buddhist theory [of the state) is merely an Indian theory; Indian monarchs may have been the descendants of a monarch selected for the people's welfare, but Our Imperial Family is the only continuous and unending line of family descending from its Heavenly Ancestors. 82
Further, with regard to the Japanese nation, Kitabatake had this is say:
Our Great Nippon is a Divine Nation. Our Divine Ancestors founded it; the Sun Goddess let her descendents reign over it for a long time. This is unique to Our Nation; no other nation has the like of it. This is the reason why Our Nation is called "Divine Nation"!83
As this book has demonstrated, it was this Shinto-inspired attitude that was to find almost universal acceptance among Japanese Buddhists, especially among Zen masters. This said, it must also be recognized that the foundation for Buddhism's subservience to the state dates back to at least the time of King Ashoka in India, not to mention its even greater subservience in China and Korea. Unlike D. T. Suzuki's claim that Shinto alone was to blame for Japan's "excessive nationalism" in the modern era, the truth is that Shinto was no more than the proximate cause of a tendency in Buddhism that, by 1945, had been developing for more than two thousand years.
If historical developments in a religion may be judged according to their consistency with the avowed teachings of the founder of that religion, in this case, Buddha Shakyamuni, then the best scholarship to date strongly suggests that Buddhist subservience to the state is an accretion to the Buddha Dharma that not only does not belong to that body, but actively betrays it.
This is said knowing full well that had Buddhism remained faithful to its earliest teachings, it is quite possible that it would not have survived, let alone prospered, in those countries that adopted it. Its subsequent almost total disappearance from the land of its birth is but one indication of the dangers it faced. Yet, admitting this does not change one central fact: the historical phenomenon known as Nation-Protecting Buddhism (Gokoku-Bukkyo) represents the betrayal of the Buddha Dharma.
Samurai Zen
If Nation-Protecting Buddhism is a betrayal of the Buddha Dharma, it should come as no surprise that Samurai Zen is a particularly pernicious variation of the same aberration. What is perhaps surprising, however, is that confirmation of this assertion is contained in the Zen-inspired work already quoted extensively above, the Hagakure.
Returning to this work one last time, we find Jocho quoting a Zen master about whom D. T. Suzuki had nothing to say. This was the Zen priest Tannen (d. 1680), under whom Jocho himself had trained. What is so surprising about this priest is that Jocho quoted him as saying, "It is a great mistake for a young samurai to learn about Buddhism." Tannen then went on to say, "It is fine for old retired men to learn about Buddhism as a diversion."84
What was it about Buddhism that made it a fit religion for old samurai to study but not young ones? In a word, it was Buddhism's teaching of compassion. Tannen explained that the feelings of compassion prompted by Buddhism could interfere with the most essential characteristic of a samurai, that is, his courage: According to Tannen, if a young samurai studied Buddhism, "he [would] see things in two ways." That is to say, he would be torn between the courage needed to fulfill his duties toward his lord, and feelings of compassion for his victims. Hence, ''A person who does not set himself in just one direction will be of no value at all."85
In Tannen's eyes, a young samurai could ill afford to let compassion rule his conduct. Only an elderly samurai had that luxury. This is not to say, however, that a Buddhist priest had no need of courage as well as compassion. Still, a Buddhist priest's courage should be devoted to "things like kicking a man back from the dead, or pulling all living creatures out of hell." A Buddhist priest required courage to save dead or near-dead sentient beings. On the other hand, among warriors, "there are some cowards who advance Buddhism."86
In the end, Tannen attempted to resolve the conflict between courage and compassion by stating that priests and samurai had need of equal measures of both, though each of the parties should manifest them differently:
A monk cannot fulfill the Buddhist Way if he does not manifest compassion without and persistently store up courage within. And if a warrior does not manifest courage on the outside and hold enough compassion within his heart to burst his chest, he cannot become a retainer. Therefore, the monk pursues courage with the warrior as his model, and the warrior pursues the compassion of the monk.87
Leaving aside the appropriateness of the resolution of the conflict between courage and compassion for the moment, what is significant about the above is the recognition that there is any conflict at all between the teaching of Buddhist compassion and the courage expected of a samurai. In fact, the potential conflict between them is so severe that it is a "great mistake" for the f young samurai to even learn about Buddhism; for to do so is to be turned into a "coward."
As for the proposed all-embracing resolution of the conflict, it should be noted that the compassion of the warrior is to beheld "within his heart" and not acted upon. This corresponds to a very strong dichotomy manifested in Japanese society between duty (giri) to one's superiors and human feelings (ninja) of kindness and compassion toward others. In classical Japanese drama there can be no question, in the end, which of these conflicting values will prevail. That is to say, nothing can be allowed to interfere with the accomplishment of one's duty. Buddhism, therefore, may be studied safely only by "retired old men."
As with Nation-Protecting Buddhism, it can be cogently argued that Buddhism would not have survived in a warrior-dominated society without compromising its ethical code as expressed in the Holy Eightfold Path, especially its prohibitions against the taking of life, pursuing a career as a soldier, or even selling weapons. Once again however, this does not alter the fact that all of these acts endorsed by Samurai Zen are a violation of the fundamental teachings-of-Buddhism.
In particular, advocates of the unity of Zen and the sword such as Takuan, Shosan, and D. T. Suzuki have taken the very real power emanating from the concentrated state of mind arising out of Buddhist meditation, that is, samadhi power, and placed it in the service of men who can, in the final analysis, only be described as "hired killers." Especially when viewed in light of the innumerable atrocities perpetrated by 'the Japanese military during the Asia-Pacific war, including the systematic, institutionalized killing and raping of civilians, D. T. Suzuki's statements that "the enemy appears and makes himself a victim," or that "the swordsman turns into an artist of the first grade, engaged in producing a work of genuine originality," and so forth must be clearly and unequivocally recognized as desecrations of the Buddha Dharma. As we have amply seen, Suzuki was far from being the only one to say or write such things.
Experienced Zen practitioners know that the "no-mind" of Zen does in fact exist. Equally, they know that samadhi (i.e., meditative) power also exists. But they also know, or at least ought to know, that these things, in their original Buddhist formulation, had absolutely nothing to do with bringing harm to others. On the contrary, authentic Buddhist awakening is characterized by a combination of wisdom and compassion-identifying oneself with others and seeking to eliminate suffering in all its forms. Thus, the question must be asked, even though it cannot be answered in this book-How is the Zen school to be restored and reconnected to its Buddhist roots? Until this question is satisfactorily answered and acted upon, Zen's claim to be an authentic expression of the Buddha Dharma must remain in doubt.
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Notes:
CHAPTER TWELVE
1. Ananda K. Coomaraswamy, Buddha and the Gospel of Buddhism, pp. 52-53.
2. Kogen Mizuno, The Beginnings of Buddhism, p. 174.
3. Ibid., p. 175.
4. A. L. Basham, The Wonder That Was India, p. 96.
5. All quotes adapted from Irving Babbitt, trans., The Dhammapada.
6. For a full discussion of this issue see Thera Nanavasa, ed., Digha-nikaya, I.
7. Richard H. Robinson, The Buddhist Religion: A Historical Introduction, p.33.
8. Mizuno, The Beginnings of Buddhism, p. 185.
9. For a more complete discussion see Walpola Rahula, What the Buddha Taught, pp. 81-89.
10. Basham, The Wonder That Was India, p.54.
11. J. S. Strong, The Legend of King Ashoka, p. 131.
12. Vishwanath Prasad Varma, Early Buddhism and Its Origins, p. 432.
13. T. W. Rhys Davids, Buddhism, p. 222.
14. Strong, The Legend of King Ashoka, p.23.
15. Basham, The Wonder That Was India, p.56.
16. Strong, The Legend of King Ashoka, p.87.
17. See Basham, The Wonder That Was India, p. 83; and Rhys Davids, Buddhism, pp. 18-19.
18. Basham, The Wonder That Was India.
19. Strong, The Legend of King Ashoka, p.61.
20. Kenneth Ch' en, Buddhism in China p.78.
21. Strong, The Legend of King Ashoka, Pp.131-32.
22. Ch'en, Buddhism in China, p.197.
23. Holmes Welch, Buddhism under Mao, p.297.
24. Strong, The Legend of King Ashoka, Pp. 115-16.
25. For a more complete discussion of his life, see Kenneth Ch' en, The Chinese Transformation of Buddhism, p. 113.
26. Quoted in Ch' en, Buddhism in China, p.221.
27. Ibid., pp. 223-24.
28. Ibid., p. 232.
29. Quoted in Yuho Yokoi with Daizen Victoria, Zen Master Dogen: An Introduction with Selected Writings, p. 163.
30. Ibid., p. 162.
31. Heinrich Dumoulin, Zen Buddhism: A History; vol. 1, India-and China, p. 114.
32. For a more complete account of this incident, see Hu Shih, "Chugoku ni okeru Zen Bukkyo-Sono Rekishi to Hoho [Zen Buddhism in China: Its History and Methodology]," in Zen ni tsuite no Taiwa, pp. 51-55.
33. Quoted in Arthur Koestler, The Lotus and the Robot, p. 271.
34. Paul Demieville, "Le Bouddhisme et la guerre," Choix d'etudes Bouddhiques (1929-1970), p. 296.
35. Quoted in Ch' en, Buddhism in China, p. 357.
36. Dumoulin, Zen Buddhism, vol. 1, p. 244.
37. Yanagida, "Chugoku Zenshu-shi," in Koza Zen, vol. 3, pp. 96-97.
38. For further discussion see Dumoulin, Zen Buddhism, vol. 1, pp. 166-70.
39. Ch'en, Buddhism in China, p. 399.
40.Quoted in Kazumitsu Kato, Lin-chi and the Record of His Sayings, p. 104.
41. Quoted in Mizuno, The Beginnings of Buddhism, p. 180.
42. Dumoulin, Zen Buddhism, p. 216.
43. Quoted in Iriya Yoshitaka et al., trans., Hekigan-roku, vol. 1, p. 182.
44. Quoted in Welch, Buddhism under Mao, p. 277.
45. Ibid., pp. 278-79.
46. Contained in the New Zealand Herald, 31 May 1996, p. 8.
47. Quoted in Welch, Buddhism under Mao, p. 283.
48. Anesaki Masaharu, History of Japanese Religion, p. 12.
49. S. Keel, "Buddhism and Political Power in Korean History," Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies 1, no. 1 (1978), pp.16-17.
50. Ch' en, Buddhism in China, p. 201.
51. Committee for the Celebration of the 70th Anniversary of the Introduction of Buddhism to America, ed., The Teaching of Buddha, p. 231.
52. Anesaki, History of Japanese Religion, p.231.
53. Welch, Buddhism under Mao, p. 281.
54. "Zen Master Dogen's Social Consciousness," Journal of Asian Culture 1, no. 1 (Spring 1977), p. 18, translated by the author.
55. William Bodiford, Soto Zen in Medieval Japan, p. 216.
56. Translated in Hajime Nakamura, Ways of Thinking of Eastern Peoples: India-China-Tibet-Japan, p. 684.
57. Heinrich Dumoulin, Zen Buddhism: A History, vol. 2, Japan, p. 153.
58. George Sansom, A History of Japan to 1334, p. 431.
59. Hee-jin Kim, Dogen Kigen: Mystical Realist, p. 13.
60.Quoted in D. T. Suzuki, Essentials of Zen Buddhism, p. 458.
61. From Takuan's Fudochi Shinmyoroku as quoted in Ichikawa Hakugen, Fudochi Shinmyo-roku/Taia-ki, Pp. 57-58.
62. Ibid., p. 58.
63. Ibid., p. 101.
64. Ibid., p. 89-90.
65. See discussion of sectarian adherence in Royall Tyler, trans., Selected Writings of Suzuki Shosan, Pp.1-3.
66.Quoted in ibid., p.1l5.
67. Quoted in ibid.
68. Quoted in Jack Seward and Howard Van Zandt, Japan: The Hungry Guest, pp. 89-90.
69. Quoted in Charles A. Moore, ed., The Japanese Mind, p. 233.
70. Tsunetomo [Jacho] Yamamoto, Hagakure, p. 164.
71. Ibid., p. 146.
72. Quoted in Philip B. Yampolsky, trans., The Zen Master Hakuin: Selected Writings, p. 69.
73. Ibid., p. 72.
74. Tomonaga study introduced in William Bodiford, "Zen and the Art of Religious Prejudice," Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 23, nos. 1-2 (1996), p. 11. "Ten Fates Preached by the Buddha" quote found on p. 15.
75. Tsugunari Kubo and Akira Yuyama, The Lotus Sutra, p.339.
76. Bodiford, "Zen and the Art of Religious Prejudice," p. 13.
77. Quoted in Charles Eliot, Japanese Buddhism, p. 305.
78. Makoto Hayashi, "The Historical Position of Early Modern Religion as Seen through a Critical Examination of R. Bellah's 'Religious Evolution,'" Acta Asiatica 75 (1998), p. 31.
79. Quoted in Garma C. C. Chang, ed., A Treasury of Mahayana Satras, pp. 456-57.
80. Quoted in Paul William, Mahayana Buddhism, p. 161.
81. Demieville, "Le Bouddhisme et la guerre," p. 267.
82. Quoted in Moore, The Japanese Mind, p. 153.
83. Ibid., p. 153.
84. Yamamoto, Hagakure, p. 95.
85. Ibid.
86. Ibid.
87. Ibid.