Finally, when looking at records of Buddha kyamuni’s life, we find his actions to be totally consistent with his earliest teachings. kyamuni peacefully sought to prevent war, as can be seen in his initial successful attempt to prevent an attack on his own country. Further, he successfully dissuaded King Ajtasattu from attacking the Vajjians. Still further, even when the very existence of his own homeland was at stake, he did not mobilize the members of the sangha as monk-soldiers to defend his country, nor did he use force to enlarge the power and landholdings of the sangha itself (as was later done in medieval Japan).
In light of the above, the question that contemporary Buddhists must ask themselves is: “Am I really willing to make nonviolence the standard for my own personal conduct and, to the extent I can individually influence it, the standard of conduct for the nation (and world) to which I belong?”
Conclusion
As this book reveals, over the centuries those calling themselves Buddhists have all too frequently ignored the pacific aspect of their faith. And as amply demonstrated in this chapter, they have done so at the cost of their own physical and spiritual welfare (let alone the physical and spiritual welfare of others).
When one seeks to understand why this has happened, the answer (at least as far as the state is concerned) is not difficult to discover. In the first instance, it derives from the fact that the state represents the collective ego, i.e., the wego of those who identify with it. In turn, patriotism becomes no more or less than attachment to this collective ego.
This said, it is important to recognize that some parts of the collective ego exercise far more power over the state’s actions than do others. Thus, the “national interests” that governments today so vigorously seek to defend are typically congruent with, if not derived from, the financial interests of its richest and most powerful (corporate) citizens. In this context, the phrase “What’s good for General Motors is good for the nation” typifies this reality and goes far in explaining why, in the midst of the current economic crisis, it is the rich and powerful who are the major beneficiaries of government bailouts (including, of course, General Motors itself).
As contemporary Buddhists look upon today’s violence-filled, poverty-stricken world, are the socially engaged, violence-forswearing teachings of Buddha kyamuni any less true, any less relevant than they were 2,500 years ago? When we recall the great compassion and active concern that Buddha kyamuni showed toward both the individual and society as a whole, should modern-day disciples be any less concerned about the monumental suffering in the world around us?
How many of us (along with so-called Buddhist rulers, past or present) are truly able to live up to the social ideals advocated by Buddha kyamuni? As modern Buddhists look at the history of the twentieth century, I think most, if not all, would agree that one of the chief characteristics of this age has been the national and ethnic struggle of smaller nations and peoples to free themselves from foreign domination, especially the domination of Western and Japanese imperialism. The dissolution of the Soviet Union and the liberation, however flawed, of many of its captive peoples are but one further manifestation of this phenomenon. If this is true, are Buddhists going to continue to cling to empire-building personages like King Aoka of India, Emperor Wen of China, or Emperor Shmu of Japan as paradigms of Buddhist rule?44
My reading of Buddhist political history tells me that every time Buddhist leaders have closely aligned themselves with the political rulers of their day, the sangha has become corrupt and degenerate. The sangha’s often slavish subservience to and actions on behalf of political rulers have resulted in its becoming the de facto pimp and prostitute of the state. Nowhere was this reality more clearly manifested in the twentieth century than in the Japanese Zen school’s fanatical embrace of soldier-Zen and its cohorts. But, as the other chapters of this book so graphically reveal, Buddhism’s historic embrace of violence and war has by no means been limited to either the Zen school or Japan.
Note, too, that as important as the distortions in practice and doctrine noted in this chapter are, they are but the tip of the iceberg. For example, even were the Zen school to recognize that samdhi power can be misused, or that the doctrine of non-self does not confer an antinomian license to kill, this would not affect those contemporary Singhalese Buddhists who maintain that their government’s recent military actions directed against the non-Buddhist Tamil minority were done “in defense of the Buddhadharma.”
This illustrates the reality: the root causes of the historic connection between violence and Buddhism are far more complex than a misunderstanding of this or that doctrine or practice. This is as true for other world religions as it is for Buddhism. For example, the sociologist Peter Berger notes:
Whenever a society must motivate its members to kill or to risk their lives, thus consenting to being placed in extreme marginal situations, religious legitimations become important. … Killing under the auspices of the legitimate authorities has, for this reason, been accompanied from ancient times to today by religious paraphernalia and ritualism. Men go to war and men are put to death amid prayers, blessings, and incantations.45
If Berger is correct (as ample evidence indicates he is), no amount of doctrinal tinkering, no matter how important, will in and of itself change phenomena that are so deeply rooted that they relate to the very nature of religion and its role in society and transcend any one faith. Questions like these demand investigation not only by Buddhists but by all who would free their faiths from the scourge of sacralized violence.
Yet, while recognizing this, my research leads me to the conclusion that one of the principal causes of the general decline in the influence of Buddhism in Asian countries today lies in the sangha’s past subservience to and identification with the aggressive, violence-prone rulers of their day. The sangha, both lay and clerical, ignores at its peril its teachings of the fundamental equality and identity of all sentient beings and its concern for all aspects of their well-being. As Buddhism continues its spread in an easterly direction (i.e., to the “West”), one critically important question is, how much of Buddhism’s historic proclivity to condone warfare as a function of the Buddhadharma will spread with it?
6
Buddhists in China during the Korean War (1951–1953)
Xue Yu
On October 8, 1950, China decided to participate in the Korean war by supporting Communist North Korea against the United States of America and South Korea. Within a few days, the state machine had implemented the powerful propaganda campaign of “Resisting America and Assisting Korea, Protecting the Family and Safeguarding the Nation” . The entire country was then mobilized and millions of Chinese volunteer soldiers crossed the Yalu River into Korea; at the same time, people remaining in China made sacrifices in order to support Chinese soldiers at the warfront. Under these circumstances, Chinese Buddhists, especially monks and nuns, became increasingly involved in war activities, providing material donations and spiritual support for the war.
This chapter examines the war-related activities of Chinese monks and nuns who had undertaken a series of transformative Marxist campaigns since the socialist liberation in 1949. Once again, the government expected their support in China’s war efforts. They had to actively demonstrate themselves as “family” members of the Chinese nation under the Communist leadership. Some of them, as recorded in Xiandai Foxue , became deeply involved in war activities, such as political propaganda, demonstrative parades, patriotic pledges, and material donations. The phenomenon of monks and nuns campaigning for donations of a Chinese Buddhist airplane and their competition with each other in joining the Volunteer Army are highlighted in this chapter. These examples demonstrate how monks and nuns, being Buddhists as well as citizens of a new China, attempted to demonstrate their nationalistic ideals and patriotic passions.
The roles of leading Buddhists, such as Ven. Juzan , during this period are examined as they assisted the government in shaping its new policy on Buddhism. They
reveal the impact of Buddhist activities during the war on the subsequent development of Buddhist institutions in China as a whole. One may conclude that a new form of Buddhism appeared in China during this period. This new form was reinvented largely by the Chinese Buddhists themselves, especially by leading figures who supported the Communist regime and encouraged its strict control over institutional Buddhism. First, however, let us examine the sociopolitical situation in which Buddhists underwent Marxist reeducation; only then will we be able to understand how the Communist government effectively transformed Chinese Buddhists into new patriotic citizens of socialist China.
Buddhism in the Early Communist Era (1949–1953)
The vicissitudes of Buddhism in China since its introduction demonstrate that institutional Buddhism (the sangha) could not avoid political influence. In fact, institutional Buddhism sometimes was completely manipulated by political powers. Buddhism would either flourish under the government’s patronage or be persecuted mercilessly if the state turned against it. At the end of the Qing Dynasty and into the early Republic Period (1912–1949), Buddhist institutions throughout the country no longer received moral support and legal protection from the state. Instead, temples were destroyed in war or occupied by the military troops of warlords, and temple properties were confiscated for the establishment of public education. Under these circumstances, Master Taixu (; 1898–1947) and others called for Buddhist reform (of doctrines, properties, and organizations) with the hope of mitigating external persecutions and strengthening inner spiritual energies. In the end, however, Master Taixu had to admit that reform efforts had failed. A number of reasons contributed to such failure, including the personal inability of Taixu to organize the Buddhist movements, his lack of the skills necessary to implement such reform ideas, and the powerful resistance of Buddhist conservatives. Perhaps the most important factor was the reform movement’s inability to win political support from the Nationalist regime. This may have provided a lesson for Taixu’s followers, such as Juzan and Zhao Puchu (), who subsequently realized the vital importance of the Communist government’s support. As a result, Juzan and Zhao Puchu went to great lengths to collaborate with the regime; by collaborating, they hoped that a new Buddhist reform could be politically guaranteed, thus legally safeguarding the existence of institutional Buddhism.
Shortly after the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, a full-scale reconstruction of socialism in China was enforced under the leadership of the Communist Party. Buddhism, although faced with tremendous uncertainties and challenges, entered this new era with hopes for a better future. The Communists claimed credit for having overthrown or suppressed imperialism, feudalism, and bureaucratic capitalism. With great ambition, they endeavored to build a new and powerful China under the polity of the new democratic revolution. In the beginning, the government called for coexistence with religious communities within the framework of the United Front and patriotic ideology; a policy of freedom of religious belief was announced. As Holmes Welch observed, “Until the Cultural Revolution began in 1966, it was the policy of the Chinese Communist Party to protect Buddhism, while at the same time keeping it under control and utilizing it in foreign policy.”1 By announcing the freedom of religious belief, the government attempted to win support from various religious leaders so that they could effectively convey the government’s policy to ordinary religious followers.
From September 21 to 30, 1949, the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC) held its first meeting in Beijing and passed the Common Program. This served as the first constitution of the People’s Republic of China. Of the 662 members who participated in the conference, seven were practitioners of Buddhism, Christianity, or Islam. Article 5 of the Common Program states, “[T]he citizens of the People’s Republic of China enjoy the freedom of religious beliefs.” In interpreting the statement, the government announced that people enjoyed the freedom to believe in a religion and the freedom to refuse to believe in a religion. Although the members of the Communist Party did not believe in any religion, they understood that religion would not disappear until the advanced development of science and the elimination of social classes. At the end of the conference, the seven members of the religious faction expressed their satisfaction with the religion policy and their appreciation of the government’s protection for religions.2
It should be pointed out, however, that the religious leaders taking part in the CPPCC did so not because of their religious status but due to the political consideration of presenting “the united front” . On April 13, 1950, Premier Zhou Enlai delivered a speech at the National Conference on the United Front Works in Beijing in which he outlined the government’s attitude toward the political participation of religionists:
We have united democratic personages from religious groups just because they are democratic personages. Giving the permission to the freedom of religious belief is different from inviting the democratic personages from religious groups to participate in CPPCC or other representative meetings. The latter is done purely out of political consideration no matter they are priests or monks.3
The government deliberately minimized the religious significance of the religious leaders’ presence in the political conference, stating that the participation of those leaders in the conference was not because of their religious professions but because they were democratic personages within the framework of the United Front. The United Front was one of three great resources necessary for the success of the Chinese Communist revolution that had secured the victory of the Communist Party over the Nationalist Party. (The other two were the Communist leadership and the People’s Liberation Army.) The aim was to unite all Chinese people collectively to build a new China under the unique leadership of the Communist Party. The principle that guided the United Front at this period was patriotism against imperialism, feudalism, and bureaucratic capitalism.
Patriotism was one of the most inspiring ideas and complicated sentiments in modern history and deeply influenced the Chinese people’s thinking and regulated their actions.4 Although the meaning and content of patriotism changed with the changing political and social environments of different periods, it was always associated with the idea of nationalism. During the period shortly after the founding of the People’s Republic of China, patriotism was interpreted to mean that the Chinese people (being proud of the Chinese nation and its long history of civilization) should firmly defend their national territory and integrity, even at the risk of their lives.5 Being loyal to the nation-state, one should make heroic self-sacrifices for the sovereignty of the country under the leadership of the Communist Party.
Only the Communist Party, the propaganda declared, was able to expel the foreign invasion and counterrevolutionaries so that the Chinese people could become the true masters of their country. Within the framework of patriotism in connection with nationalism, the people’s love for the nation was synonymous with their love for the party; such love could be manifested and implemented only through unconditional support for the Communist government. Because the party, the nation-state, and the government at the time were almost identical as a trinity, the Chinese people were urged to follow government policies without question and to respond positively to political movements launched by the state.6 Only then could they be considered patriots and good citizens of the country. In order to implement such patriotic ideology, the state organized a series of political programs nationwide to reeducate the Chinese people with Marxism.
Shortly after the founding of the People’s Republic of China, the government launched a number of political campaigns (such as land reform and three anti- movements), and virtually the entire nation followed the path directed by the Communist Party, without the slightest doubt or question. Most Buddhists seemed to have followed the contemporary social and political trends and expressed their support for the government. Some well-known Buddhists, having participated in and experienced these campaigns, became quite convinced t
hat the Communist Party with its United Front could indeed lead them and other Chinese in the great cause of constructing a new and prosperous China. Although some ordinary monks and nuns may have continued to harbor doubts, uncertainties, and even fear toward the newly founded regime,7 there was no public way for them to openly express their feelings. It was commonly believed among Buddhists, both lay and clergy, that they enjoyed religious freedom and were considered to be equal citizens of the new China, therefore it was their responsibility to make sacrifices and contributions to the nation.
Many Buddhists believed that, by positively responding to the government’s call and undertaking socialist transformation, they would in return receive sympathy from the government, which would then protect Buddhist institutions. Yet, from the viewpoint of the Communist Party, Buddhists (as well as the followers of other religions who became fully engaged in the socialist transformation and construction) would divert their attention from their faith and eventually forget and abandon their religion altogether. Although the Common Program, which served as the constitution, permitted freedom of religious belief, it never clearly stated that people also enjoyed the freedom of religious practice. As Richard Bush has pointed out, religious activities outside the walls of temples were prohibited.8 Communist documents often stated openly that religion would certainly decline and die with the development of science. The government was to make a great effort to educate people with Marxist materialism so that people would gradually give up their religious beliefs altogether:
As the genesis and existence of religion is man’s oppression by the forces of nature and society, therefore, only when class exploitation has been eliminated from human society and man’s power to control nature has been greatly developed, and on this basis man’s consciousness and scientific-cultural level have been greatly raised, may religion gradually die out.9
Buddhist Warfare Page 15