(Another must read) Zen at War - PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

[Guest guest]

Zen at War

 

Extract :

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

 

On the occasion of the publication of the second edition of Zen at

War, I would like to share with readers some of the positive

developments that have occurred since the book's initial release in

1997. I refer, first of all, to European interest in the book as

reflected in the publication of German, French, Italian, and Polish

editions. Clearly there is broad interest in the West regarding Zen's

relationship to Japanese militarism.

 

Equally if not more significant was the publication in 2001 of a

Japanese edition titled Zen to Senso (Zen at War). This edition

contributed to the fact that two major branches of the Rinzai Zen

sect, that is, Myoshinji and Tenryuji, admitted and apologized for

the first time for their past support of Japanese militarism. In that

sense, the book you are about to read is not simply a book about

religious history but also one that has made history.

 

Specifically, on September 27, 2001, the Myoshinji General Assembly,

meeting in Kyoto, issued a proclamation containing the following

passage:

 

As we reflect on the recent events in the U.S.A., we recognize that

in the past our country engaged in hostilities, calling it a " holy

war, " and inflicting great pain and damage to various countries. Even

though it was national policy at the time, it is truly regrettable

that our sect, in the midst of wartime passions, was unable to

maintain a resolute anti-war stance and ended up cooperating with the

war effort. In light of this we wish to confess our past

transgressions and critically reflect on our conduct. A follow-up

statement by branch administrators on October 19, 2001, said:

 

It was the publication of the book Zen to Senso etc. that provided

the opportunity for us to address the issue of our war

responsibility. It is truly a matter of regret that our sect has for

so long been unable to seriously grapple with this issue. Still, due

to the General Assembly's adoption of its recent " Proclamation, " we

have been able to take the first step in addressing this issue. This

is a very significant development.

 

Myoshinji is the largest branch of the Rinzai Zen sect, with more

than 3,400 affiliated temples and 1.6 million adherents. The smaller

Tenryuji branch issued a similar statement earlier in 2001, again

citing this book as a catalyst. Kubota Jiun, current head of the

Sanbo-kyodan, also apologized in the spring of 2001 for the

wartime " errant words and actions " of Zen Master Yasutani Haku'un

(introduced in chapter 10 of this book and more thoroughly in chapters

of Zen War Stories).

 

As for the Soto Zen sect, little has changed since its groundbreaking

admission of war responsibility in a January 1993 statement of

repentance, introduced in chapter 10. Although a handful of Soto Zen—

related scholars have continued to pursue this issue, notably

Hakamaya Noriaki and Matsumoto Shiro of Komazawa University, their

research has focused on highly contentious doctrinal issues having

little effect on the sect as a whole. Nevertheless, in December 2005

Tanaka Shinkai, abbot of the Soto Zen monastery of Flokyoji in Fukui

prefecture, praised Zen at War as being like a graphic depiction of

the carnage at the scene of a horrendous car accident. " If we hope to

prevent its reoccurrence:' he stated, " we must not flinch from

exploring just how and why this accident occurred:' Tanaka went on to

pledge that his temple, itself founded by a Chinese monk in the 13th

century, would henceforth hold unprecedented memorial services for

the victims of Japanese militarism.

 

This edition contains a new chapter titled " Was It Buddhism? " which

places Zen's collaboration with Japanese militarism in the context of

the 2,500-year-long relationship of Buddhism to the state and war.

This additional chapter addresses the plaintive cry of one

incredulous reader on the Internet who asked, " What the hell went

wrong? "

 

Yet, if it can be said that something " went wrong " in prewar and

wartime Zen, it is important to realize that it will take more than

apologies, no matter how heartfelt, to make it " right " again. The

fact is that Zen leaders who supported Japanese militarism did so on

the grounds that Japanese aggression expressed the very essence of

the Buddha Dharma and even enlightenment itself. Thus, until and

unless their assumptions are closely examined and challenged, there

is no guarantee that Zen's future, whether in the East or West, will

not once again include support for the mass destruction of human life

that is modern warfare.

 

Regrettably, many Western Zen leaders continue to either evade or

rationalize the connection of their own Dharma lineage to Japan's

past aggression. For example, in the fall 1999 issue of the Buddhist

magazine tricycle, one well-known U.S. Zen master, Bernie Glassman,

had the following to say about Yasutani Haku'un's wartime militarist

and anti-Semitic pronouncements:

 

So if your definition of enlightenment is that there's no anti-

Semitism in the state of enlightenment. If your definition of

enlightenment is that there's no nationalism, or militarism, or

bigotry in the state of enlightenment, you better change your

definition of enlightenment. For the state of enlightenment is maha,

the circle with no inside and no outside, not even a circle, just the

pulsating of life everywhere.

 

In response to this assertion, David Brazier, English Buddhist and

author of The New Buddhism (2002) wrote:

 

Glassman is willing to say that if your definition of enlightenment

does not allow for anti-Semitism within enlightenment then your

definition is not big enough. For Glassman, himself Jewish, to say

such a thing is, in one sense, big-hearted. I acknowledge Glassman's

big heart. Nonetheless, I assert that he is wrong. My definition of

enlightenment does not have room for anti-Semitism. I do not think

that the Buddha's definition of enlightenment had room for anything

similar either. The Buddha had compassion for bigots, but he did not

think they were enlightened.

 

Expanding on this theme, Brazier went on to assert that the non-

dualism of Glassman's " circle with no inside and no outside " is in

fact not even Buddhist in origin. " The Non-Dual. . . is essentially a

Taoist rather than a Buddhist idea:' he wrote.

 

Needless to say, it is beyond the scope of either this book, or its

more recent companion, Zen War Stories (2003), to resolve the claims

and counterclaims raised above. Nevertheless, it can be readily

observed that their resolution goes straight to heart of the nature

of enlightenment itself. As such, this and the related issues

contained in this book deal with the very essence of the Buddhist

faith. Sooner or later, every serious Buddhist practitioner must

attempt to resolve them, if only for him- or herself.

 

Finally, as I did in the first edition, let me close by acknowledging

that this book, together with its companion volume, Zen War Stories,

represents no more than the first steps in coming to an understanding

of the relationship between (Zen) Buddhism and warfare. Nevertheless,

in a world where religious-supported, if not religious-inspired,

violence remains all too prevalent, even first steps are to be

valued, for they at least begin to address the scourge that resides

in all of the world's major faiths—that there can be, under certain

circumstances, something " sacred " or " holy " about war. And further,

they address the belief that the duty of religious practitioners is

to answer the call to war of their nation's leaders, no matter how

destructive the ensuing acts of war may be.

 

In the aftermath of the terrorist attacks of September 11, Islam now

appears to be the main if not sole source of religious fanaticism. It

is important to recognize, however, that religion-inspired brutality

knows no sectarian label. In 1906, for example, General Leonard Wood

sent the following cable to President Teddy Roosevelt celebrating his

victory over Filipino Muslims still resisting American colonial

control: " The enemy numbered six hundred— including women and

children—and we abolished them utterly, leaving not even a baby alive

to cry for its dead mother. This is incomparably the greatest victory

that was ever achieved by the Christian soldiers of the United

States ?' In reply, Roosevelt praised the general's " brilliant feat

of arms " and the excellent way he had " upheld the honor of the

American flag " (quoted in Mark Twain's Religion by William E. Phipps,

p. 208).

 

As much as the adherents of the world's faiths may wish to deny it,

when it comes to the relationship of religion to violence, it is, as

Hemingway has so poignantly stated, a question of " ask not for the

whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee?'

 

PREFACE

 

In the spring of 1970 I was called into the room of Zen Master Niwa

Rempo (1905—93), then the chief abbot of Eiheiji Betsuin temple in

Tokyo. He informed me that since I was a SOtO Zen priest and a

graduate student in Buddhist Studies at SOtO Zen sect—affiliated

Komazawa University, it was not appropriate for me to be active in

the anti-Vietnam war movement in Japan. While he acknowledged that my

protests were both nonviolent and legal, he stated that " Zen priests

don't get involved in politics?' And then he added, " If you fail to

heed my words, you will be deprived of your priestly status?'

 

Although I did not stop my antiwar activities, I was not ousted from

this sect. In fact, I went on to become a fully ordained priest,

which I remain to this day. This was very much due to the

understanding and protection extended to me by my late master, the

Venerable Yokoi Kakudo, a professor of Buddhist Studies at Komazawa

as well as a Soto Zen master. Niwa Rempo went on to become the

seventy-seventh chief abbot of Eiheiji, one of the Soto Zen sect's

two head monasteries. We never met again.

 

This became one of the defining events in my life, the catalyst for a

twenty-five-year search for the answers to the questions what is and

what should be the relationship of the Zen Buddhist priest to society

and its members, to the state, to warfare, and to politics and social

activism. In looking for the answers to these questions I came across

the writings of Professor Ichikawa Hakugen, a Rinzai Zen sect-

affiliated priest and scholar then teaching at Hanazono University in

Kyoto. Reading the work of a man who had gone from staunch supporter

to severe critic of Japanese militarism, I felt as if I had fallen

down the proverbial rabbit hole to join Alice in her adventures

through Wonderland.

 

The ideas and people I encountered in this subterranean realm of

Buddhism were the exact inverse of those on the surface. Down below,

warfare and killing were described as manifestations of Buddhist

compassion. The " selflessness " of Zen meant absolute and

unquestioning submission to the will and dictates of the emperor. And

the purpose of religion was to preserve the state and punish any

country or person who dared interfere with its right of self-

aggrandizement.

 

Disturbing as such sentiments were, I was even more disturbed to

learn who was making them. Ichikawa quoted at length, for example,

from D. 11 Suzuki's writings on war. With his oft-pictured gentle and

sagacious appearance of later years, Suzuki is revered among many in

the West as a true man of Zen. Yet he wrote that " religion should,

first of all, seek to preserve the existence of the state:' followed

by the assertion that the Chinese were " unruly heathens " whom Japan

should punish " in the name of religion?' Zen master Harada Sogaku,

highly praised in the English writings of Philip Kapleau, Maezumi

Taizan, and others, was also quoted by Hakugen.

 

Ichikawa demonstrated that statements such as these had been made

over and over again by both lay and clerical Zen leaders during the

war years and before. I could not help wondering how it had all come

about, especially in light of Rempo's adamant assertion that " Zen

priests don't get involved in politics?' Did the wartime deaths of

millions upon millions of Japanese and non-Japanese alike have

nothing to do with politics? Could the pro-war statements made by

Suzuki, Harada, and many other Zen leaders be fairly described

as " nonpolitical " ?

 

This book represents a first attempt to grapple with these complex

and difficult questions. Its focus is on the history of institutional

Buddhism, particularly Zen, in one country, Japan, during the period

from 1868 to 1945. I chose this period not because I see it as

representative of the historical relationship between Zen Buddhism

and warfare, but, on the contrary, precisely because it is not. In

this I have been deeply influenced by a passage from William James's

The Varieties of Religious Experience: " We learn more about a thing

when we view it under a microscope, as it were, or in its most

exaggerated form. This is as true of religious phenomena as of any

other kind of fact. The only cases likely to be profitable enough to

repay our attention will therefore be cases where the religious

spirit is unmistakable and extreme. "

 

There can be no question that the relationships which existed between

Zen Buddhism and warfare, between Zen Buddhism and the state, were in

their most exaggerated form during the period in question. Likewise,

for better or worse, the religious spirit was unmistakable and

extreme. It is precisely for these reasons, then, that this period

can serve as a useful prism through which to examine the broader

issues, which remain constant even when the circumstances

encompassing them are extreme. In fact, it is possible to argue that

the real value of the social ethics of any religion, Buddhism

included, ought to be their application to those extreme situadons in

which secular ethical systems are apt to lose their authority. What

test of faith or awareness is there for the fair-weather believer?

 

Although I focus on the years from 1868 to 1945, looking at this

period in isolation from its historical antecedents suggests that a

phenomenon such as Zen's endorsement of Japanese militarism can be

explained solely by the events of the Meiji period and thereafter.

Indeed, some present-day observers have adopted this viewpoint and

maintain that this phenomenon was no more than a momentary aberration

of modern Japanese Zen or its leaders. More informed commentators

such as Ichikawa Hakugen, however, make it clear that the unity of

Zen and the sword has deep roots in Zen Buddhist doctrine and

history. Regrettably, space limitations preclude me from introducing

more than a small fraction of this larger history in the present

study.

 

In an attempt to show at least some of the complexity of the Zen

Buddhist response to Japan's military actions, I have included

sections on Zen Buddhist war resisters as well as collaborators. On

whichever side of the fence these Buddhists placed themselves, their

motivations were far more complex than can be presented in a single

volume. Nor, of course, can their lives and accomplishments be

evaluated solely on the basis of their positions regarding the

relationship of Zen to the state and warfare. A holistic evaluation

of these leaders, however, is not the subject of this book.

 

http://www.wisdom-books.com/ProductExtract.asp?PID=7386

[Guest guest]

http://adishakti.org/_/zen_at_war_preface_to_second_edition.htm