Tracking Bodhidharma
Page 40
51. Was Japan to Blame?
AFTER WORLD WAR II, commentators criticized the Kyoto school of philosophy that existed in Japan during the war. That Buddhist-oriented philosophical group, headed by the scholar Nishida Kitaro, stood accused of providing the philosophical underpinnings of Japan’s imperial misadventure. Throughout his life, Nishida tried to reconcile his perceived “essence” of Japanese and Chinese philosophy with Western science and culture. Critics said his work helped provide the philosophy behind the Japanese militarists’ belief that Japan was “special” and should spread its cultural superiority to Asia and the world. Perhaps the criticism of Nishida is unfair, as he seems to have been torn between nationalist sentiments and a belief in cosmopolitanism. His writings do reflect a desire for Western and Eastern philosophy to complement each other in a global community.
But the Kyoto school that Nishida headed based its Buddhist philosophy on the metaphysical idea of “absolute nothingness.” To Nishida and his fellow philosophers, the uniqueness of Eastern culture lay in this concept. Absolute nothingness was purportedly known only through a “pure experience” of reality that was not simply apart from questions of right and wrong but also transcended them. This absolute nothingness, it was argued, symbolized the essential Asian, and particularly Japanese, cultural insight. It found social expression in the “emptiness” of an enemy soldier or the death of a noble samurai warrior or kamikaze pilot. It found artistic expression in the “emptiness” of the beauty of a transient cherry blossom that falls from the tree in full bloom. Members of the Kyoto school praised the emperor as the ultimate expression of this transcendental metaphysic. The emperor, they said, personally embodied absolute emptiness.
“Emptiness” became a pretext for criminal actions, violating the Buddhist precepts, and violating the teachings of the religion that allowed the term into its dialogue. What I would like to point out here is that the term, though fundamental to Prajnaparamita Buddhist scripture and thought, is seldom found and is without metaphysical meaning in old Zen texts.
The old Zen masters did not want people to be caught up in “emptiness” or any other idea. This is clear from passages like the one quoted above from Baizhang, who specifically counseled against brandishing the term.
Perhaps if Emperor Wu’s imperial Buddhist metaphysics did not contribute to the horror that engulfed Nanjing centuries later, then some other ideology of like-minded silliness would have done so. But we should consider that it was a historical process that ensued from Emperor Wu’s court that culminated in a horrific tragedy at the same location centuries later. The irony merits our attention and meditation.
But is it fair to overemphasize Japan’s role in war crimes? Japan is hardly alone, particularly in the context of World War II. The crimes committed in Nazi Germany are well-known. But also remember that British and American forces unleashed an unprecedented mass bombardment of civilian populations by aircraft in Germany and Japan as a terrorist weapon. The pervasive triumphalism of the Allies’ victory often overlooks this. Are the crimes that the Japanese imperial army committed against innocents in Nanjing heavier on the scales of justice than the intentional firebombing of civilian Tokyo, Osaka, Hamburg, Dresden, and scores of other Axis cities, events in which civilians died by fire on a scale dwarfing the numbers killed in the atomic attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki?
Such ethical questions are further blurred by the fact that the West likely contributed to Japan’s imperial misadventures in a tangible way. A recent book entitled The Imperial Cruise, by James Bradley, reveals how President Theodore Roosevelt, whose racist beliefs Bradley clearly exposes, urged Japan to adopt their own Monroe Doctrine toward the rest of Asia. Roosevelt saw Japan’s quick embrace of Western values during the late 1800s as evidence of Japanese racial superiority. He thought Japan would cooperate to advance America’s own interests in Asia by helping maintain the Open Door Policy, a name that served as a fig leaf for the United States’s imperial interests in China and its subjugation of the Philippines. As Roosevelt saw it, since the United States’s colonial conquests of Native Americans were finished and had reached the shores of the Pacific Ocean, it was natural that the imperial thrust should cross the Pacific to Asia. Bradley describes how Roosevelt encouraged Japan in its colonial adventures, contributing to that country’s successful conquest and occupation of Korea in 1910. This whetted Japan’s growing nationalist sentiments and greater imperial ambitions in the years that followed.
When I was a youngster growing up in Oregon, we sang the Oregon State song, “Oregon, My Oregon,” a paean to empire that rang forth from our innocent classrooms, a song that proclaims,Land of the empire builders,
Land of the Golden West,
Conquered and held by free men,
Fairest [!] and the best,
Onward and upward ever,
Forward and on and on,
Hail, to thee, land of heroes, my Oregon.
Roosevelt, one of the “fair” (here our state song appears to refer not just to the idea of fairness, but also to fair skin) empire builders, consciously passed the mantle of empire to Japan. This gives a special irony to the song’s second verse:Land of the rose and sunshine,
Land of the summer’s breeze;
Laden with health and vigor,
Fresh from the western seas.
Blest by the blood of martyrs,
Land of the setting sun;
Hail to thee, Land of Promise,
My Oregon.
As the sun was setting in Oregon, it was rising in Japan.
Ashoka, the Buddhist king of India, embraced Buddhism and politicized its ideals. Soon after Buddhism arrived in China, that country’s emperors did the same. In this light, the question becomes whether many Mahayana Buddhist doctrines were developed with specific political ends in mind. Answering that question is beyond the scope of this book, and anyway has already been suggested and discussed by some scholars. Yet no matter why they were created, such scriptures allowed rulers who were at the extreme opposite of the religious scale from home-leavers to publically embrace the religion. They thus became monarchs toward whom monks must bow, all while these monarchs need not yield their own overarching worldly power and status. The Bodhisattva Vow and the absolutist metaphysics of the Lotus Sutra and other Buddhist scriptures facilitated this development. Caught up in the hope that vast numbers of converts would result from an “enlightened” king, a big part of the Buddhist religion appears to have accepted this dangerous trend.
The defiance Emperor Wu’s teacher Zhizang displayed upon being denied the Dharma seat in the Tai Cheng Palace indicates that Bodhidharma was not the only cleric resentful of Imperial-Way Buddhism. Yet Bodhidharma appears uniquely successful at remaining outside the imperial orbit while carrying out his Buddhist mission in China. He was a successful counterpoint to the politicization of Buddhism and symbolized this ideal to his spiritual successors. Whether he actually saw himself in this role is less certain, and less important, than the fact that this is the role assigned to him by the Zen tradition that honors him.
Appendix:
Traditional Account of Bodhidharma’s Death in the Compendium of Five Lamps (thirteenth century)
IT HAS LONG BEEN REPORTED that Bodhidharma traveled with his disciples to Thousand Saints Temple at Yu Gate. They stayed there for three days. At that time the prefectural chief Yang Xuanzhi, who had long honored Buddhism, came to visit.
He asked Bodhidharma, “Your Excellency is called the patriarch of the Five Seals of India. What is this teaching?”
Bodhidharma said, “Those illuminated to Buddha mind and who practice in accordance with this understanding, these are the ones called patriarchs.”
The governor then asked, “What do you teach besides this?”
Bodhidharma then said, “You must have clarity on this Mind, comprehending its past and present, unhindered by [thoughts of] existence and nonexistence, not seeking Dharma, apart from cleverness and ignorance, without
delusion or enlightenment. If you can understand in this fashion, you’ll be called a patriarch.”
The governor then asked, “Your disciple has long taken refuge in the Three Treasures and understood the teachings of wisdom and ignorance, but I have been uncertain about the truth. Hearing you speak, I now begin to grasp it. I ask for the master’s forbearance to reveal the true doctrine.”
Bodhidharma, knowing the earnestness of the request, then spoke this verse: “Without seeing evil or feeling revulsion, and without perceiving goodness or making exertions, and without forsaking knowledge or approaching ignorance, without shunning delusion or attaining enlightenment, in this way you will achieve the great and unexcelled Way. Penetrate immeasurable Buddha Mind. Don’t follow ideas of ordinary or sacred, and naturally you’ll become a patriarch.”
When Yang heard this verse, he experienced both joy and sorrow, saying, “May the master long abide in the world and liberate people [from delusion].”
Bodhidharma said, “I will soon leave the world. I cannot remain here long. ‘There are countless sorrows, and I’ve encountered many difficulties.”
Yang then said, “Who among your followers comprehends the master’s teaching?”
Bodhidharma then said, “I have transmitted the secret of the Buddhas that benefit those on the road of delusion that they may find peace in this teaching. As to those who would find peace, they cannot do so but for this [teaching].”
Yang then said, “If the master does not speak, then how can this penetrating light come forth?”
In response Bodhidharma only recited this prophesy: “The river swirls with jade waves, the lamplight opens the golden lock. Five persons practice together, and among ninety none are not me.”
Yang heard this and said, “This I don’t fathom, so I only silently hold it.” He then bid farewell and left. Although at that time Yang did not grasp the master’s verse, he later understood its meaning.
At that time the Wei dynastic house honored Buddhism, and Zen adepts were as numerous as trees in the forest. Vinaya Master Guang Tong and Tripitaka Master Ruci were prominent among monks. Seeing the master expound Dharma, they condemned the teaching of “pointing at mind.” When they would debate Bodhidharma, they would raise [ideas of] existence and nonexistence. Bodhidharma spread his profound teaching widely, universally bringing about the Dharma rain, and because of his great celebrity they could not bear the situation, giving rise to harmful thoughts. They added poison to Bodhidharma’s food, increasing the amount until they’d done so six times. When the karmic conditions of his teaching were exhausted, [Bodhidharma] passed his Dharma to others. They were unable to save him, and, sitting upright, he passed away. The date was the fifth day of the tenth lunar month of [536]. He was buried on the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month at Samadhi Forest Temple on Bear Ear Mountain. Three years later, the Wei envoy Song Yunfeng was returning from western regions and encountered Bodhidharma in the Cong Mountains carrying one sandal and traveling quickly.
Song asked, “Where’s the master going?”
Bodhidharma said, “To India!”
Song returned [to China] and told his story. Bodhidharma’s disciples opened his grave and found the casket empty, with only one sandal remaining there. This was brought to the [imperial] court’s attention and caused much surprise. [The court] honored the remaining sandal, placing it in Shaolin Temple, where it was venerated. In the fifteenth year of the Kaiyuan period of the Tang dynasty [727], it was transferred to Huayan Temple on Wu Tai Mountain, but now its whereabouts are unknown. Previously, Emperor Liang Wudi met Bodhidharma, but they had no affinity, but then [the emperor] heard that [Bodhidharma] had gone to proselytize in the Wei [territory]. Emperor Wu [hearing of Bodhidharma’s death] made haste to author a memorial tablet [to honor him]. Later the story of Song Yunfeng was heard, and [thus] the tale is complete. The [Tang emperor] Tai Zong posthumously conferred the name Great Teacher Perfect Enlightenment. The burial stupa is called Empty Perception.
Copyright © 2012 by Andy Ferguson.
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