恆山 – Rethinking the World in East Asia 1850s-1990s

Nichiren’s Teachings in Modern Contexts – Tanaka Chigaku and Sōka Gakkai’s Misapplications of Nichirenism

The teachings of the thirteenth-century Buddhist thinker Nichiren inspired numerous twentieth-century intellectuals, who drew on his steadfast belief in the all-encompassing Lotus Sūtra to advance their contemporary agendas. However, their application of Nichiren’s teachings to modern contexts led to reworkings of their core principles and revealed inconsistencies with the Buddhist Dharma, which stemmed from Nichiren’s disloyal relationship with the Buddhist Dharma and that which he preached.

Nichiren believed that he was born in the ‘Final Dharma age’ prophesized by the Buddha, which meant that only the Lotus Sūtra could lead to Buddhahood.¹ He regarded Japan as an ideal place to be born, as it had ‘an affinity for the Lotus Sūtra’, and sought to extend the teachings of it ‘worldwide’.² However, in Nichiren’s time, Japanese expansion was unrealistic as they posed no ‘threat to other countries’.³ Moreover, Christine Naylor argues that many of his teachings opposed Buddhist principles, since Nichiren understood that ‘false teachings’ were leading the world to disaster, and could not ‘promise peace to his followers in this life’.⁴ Because of this opposition, he believed Japan and the world’s reluctance to follow solely the Lotus Sūtra had resulted in this ruin. Furthermore, Nichiren’s contradictions undoubtedly led to more difficulty in modern interpretations. For example, he initially believed the Japanese kamis protected the ‘devotees of the Lotus Sūtra’, but then ‘threaten[ed] them with punishment’ once he convinced himself they had betrayed him.⁵ Finally, adding to interpretation confusion, Naylor contends that the misunderstandings partially derive from Nichiren not following ‘the first of Śākyamuni’s precepts, which forbids the taking of life’, as he ‘sanctioned both secular and religious wars’.⁶

Tanaka Chigaku’s utilization of Nichirenism for imperialist Japan reworked its core principles as they were not intended for the modern context in which Tanaka employed them. As Japan struggled ‘to assume a place among the world’s powers’ during the Meiji era, Tanaka looked to Nichiren’s argument for Japan to globally spread the Lotus Sūtra as a means for expansion.⁷ Jacqueline Stone argues that Tanaka was possibly the ‘first person in modern Nichiren Buddhist history’ to believe that the worldwide spread of Nichirenism and the kaidan was truly achievable.⁸ Nichiren, confined to the contexts of his time, had not even thought such a thing to be genuinely realistic.

The major contrasts between Nichiren and Tanaka become apparent when considering the relationships of their principles with the imperial family. Where Nichiren disrespected both Amaterasu and Hachiman, a ‘tantamount irreverence to the emperor’, Tanaka connected Nichirenism with Shinto nationalism, making him ‘indissolubly linked to the modern imperial state.⁹ Nichiren’s principles opposed the imperial family, whereas Tanaka’s supported them. Moreover, Naylor argues that Tanaka read Nichiren’s passages out of context, which led him to believe Nichiren was ‘an ardent believer of the imperial system’, citing the confusion.¹⁰ The fact that Nichiren’s principles support Japanese imperialism ‘only if torn out of context’ supports the notion that Tanaka’s ‘loyalty was to Japan and the emperor, not to Buddhism’.¹¹ Ultimately, the ‘tangled strands of [Nichiren’s] personality and ideas’ made his writings difficult to interpret and even more difficult to appropriately apply to modern contexts.¹²

Sōka Gakkai, a lay Nichiren Buddhist organization, in the postwar era interpreted Nichiren’s concept of kaidan not from an imperial perspective, but instead from a modern perspective within the limitations of the postwar parliamentary constitutional monarchy. Its second president, Toda Jōsei, believed it was the organization’s responsibility to prevent the ‘sufferings epitomized by the recent war’ from repeating through the supposed peace preached by Nichiren.¹³ Similar to Tanaka, the third president, Ikeda Daisaku, sought a true nationwide acceptance of Nichirenism and the Lotus Sūtra; he believed this could be achieved if two-thirds of the country supported Sōka Gakkai.¹⁴ However, despite these efforts, its core message of peace contradicts Nichiren’s teachings, as seen earlier in this post. Thus, both the imperialist and militaristic interpretations by Tanaka, and the peaceful interpretations by Sōka Gakkai, ultimately fail to understand Nichiren’s teachings, as they are nearly impossible to apply to modern contexts.

Jacqueline I. Stone, ‘By Imperial Edict and Shogunal Decree’, in Steven Heinen and Charles S. Prebish (eds), Buddhism in the Modern World: Adaptations of an Ancient Tradition (Oxford, 2003), p. 194. [↩]
Christina Naylor, ‘Nichiren, Imperialism, and the Peace Movement’, Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, 18: 1 (March 1991), p. 67. [↩]
Ibid., p. 66. [↩]
Ibid., p. 70. [↩]
Ibid., pp. 61-62. [↩]
Ibid., pp. 70-71. [↩]
Stone, ‘By Imperial Edict’, pp. 198-199. [↩]
Ibid., p. 200. [↩]
Naylor, ‘Nichiren, Imperialism’, p. 63. Stone, ‘By Imperial Edict’, p. 203. [↩]
Naylor, ‘Nichiren, Imperialism’, pp. 64-65 [↩]
Ibid., pp. 73, 60 [↩]
Ibid., p. 56 [↩]
Stone, ‘By Imperial Edict’, p. 205 [↩]
Ibid., p. 211 [↩]

Failure to Reject Tradition – The Evolution of the New Culture Movement’s ‘xiao jiating’

The family-reform ideals of the Chinese New Culture Movement in the early twentieth century gained widespread popular support from the nation’s young men through periodicals, such as Family Research, which encouraged individualism and attacked patriarchal society. Their absorption in individualism blinded them to the inherent misogyny in their search for the ideal wife—one who was educated and politically conscious. However, it lacked the appeal necessary for a socioeconomic revolution, as those young men did not subscribe to all of the Movement’s radical ideas; often, they subconsciously preferred traditionalism despite their ambition to form a modern state. Moreover, the Chinese Communist Party retroactively revised and imposed the New Culture Movement’s xiao jiating, or conjugal family, by forcing individuals to devote themselves equally to their emotional relationships and the state.

In her monograph, Chinese Visions of Family and State, 1915-1953, Susan L. Glosser argues that those who started Family Research believed family reform was the ‘necessary first step in China’s modernization’, as individuals must first be ‘happy at home’ in order to provide their full contribution to the urban reform movements throughout China.¹ The primary obstacle preventing young men from this domestic happiness, they contended, was the patriarch. Under the Confucian standard, the patriarch held great control over his children’s lives. Thus, to free themselves for their ultimate goal of a ‘transformation of the Chinese economy’ and ‘political structure’, they began by attacking the patriarch due to his control and ‘as a stand-in for the nebulous forces of “power” and “class” that strangled China’.² It was only then, with the happiness from their new family, that they understood that China could modernize economically and socially.³

As happiness, and thus productivity, was believed to be derived from the family, those involved in the New Culture Movement ‘developed a new set of expectations for their wives’.⁴ In opposition to traditional arranged marriages, they argued in favor of a concept of marriage based on romantic love, in which the couple involved jointly shared ‘intellectual and political interests’.⁴ However, Glosser declares, these young men failed to consider what an ideal husband might be, and pushed unrealistic standards onto the women of their time.⁵ Thus, they thought only of what would make them happy in marriage, while expecting their wives to work independently in the domestic sphere and join other social spheres, revealing a misogynistic core behind their advocacy for women’s rights.

The surveys of two Chinese sociologists, Chen Heqin and Pan Guangdan, that Glosser examines, reveal that despite the insistence of the New Culture radicals, many young men appear ‘to have been willing, and even happy, to make their peace with much that was traditional in the Chinese family’.⁶ The primary family-reform ideals of the New Culture Movement that they supported were the rejection of arranged marriages and the education of women. However, many young couples were not too interested in establishing ‘households independent of their parents’.⁷ Moreover, despite wanting to choose their own wife, the qualities they looked for in a wife were more traditional than they might have anticipated—over three-quarters of Chen’s respondents did not list any interest in an ideal wife’s talents.⁸ In conclusion, Chen and Pan found that many of their respondents simply picked and chose certain aspects of the New Culture’s xiao jiating and ‘ignored or modified others’.⁹

The Marriage Law, passed by the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party in 1950, promised the right to choose spouses and ensured equality among men and women.¹⁰ It was described by the Party as the final step in ‘the long fight, begun by the New Culture Movement, against the “feudal” customs of traditional China’.¹¹ However, the Party initially hesitated to enforce the law due to concerns that the peasants might react negatively toward legislation that abruptly hindered tradition. Glosser contends that the Party ‘promised to resolve the tension that the conjugal family ideal had created between the individual and the state’ through their ‘version’ of the ideal xiao jiating.¹² Although, their method of doing so was to absorb the citizens entirely into the state and make the state the sole legitimizing factor of marriage. Thus, the individuals were forced to jointly devote themselves to their emotional relationships and the state, as marital privacy was stripped away, disguised as the Party’s loyalty to New Culture ideals.

Susan L. Glosser, Chinese Visions of Family and State, 1915-1953 (Berkeley, 2003), p. 31. [↩]
Ibid., p. 38. [↩]
Ibid., p. 44 [↩]
Ibid., p. 49 [↩] [↩]
Ibid., p. 51 [↩]
Ibid., p. 57 [↩]
Ibid., p. 62 [↩]
Ibid., p. 69 [↩]
Ibid., p. 77 [↩]
Ibid., pp. 169, 171 [↩]
Ibid., pp. 169-170 [↩]
Ibid., p. 195 [↩]

Uchiyama Gudō’s Anarchist Buddhism – The Impact of International Socialism on Japanese Buddhism

Anarchism, described by Fabio Rambelli as part of the international socialist movement, inspired Japanese Buddhist intellectuals to synthesize their respective philosophies for the benefit of the newly emerging working class. The Buddhist priest Uchiyama Gudō sought to utilize the revolutionary concepts of anarchism in order to implement theoretical Buddhist social principles. Gudō believed that both Buddhism and socialism, at their core, ‘aimed to improve the living conditions of the people’.¹ Thus, the communication of both Buddhist ideas and socialist anarchism to the working-class villagers were not dissimilar; Gudō understood his Buddhist sermons to be inherently socialist, as well. Uchiyama Gudō’s background in Buddhism inspired his socialist beliefs; therefore, he understood socialism and anarchism not as departures from Buddhism, but as natural expressions of Buddhist egalitarianism. What he failed to grasp, however, were the conflicting natures of Buddhism’s inner liberation and anarchism’s outer revolution.

Rambelli’s Zen Anarchism: The Egalitarian Dharma of Uchiyama Gudō highlights Gudō’s connections between Buddhism and anarchism. In a 1903 serialization of Heimin shinbun, a socialist newspaper, Gudō cites three excerpts from prominent Buddhist sutras as his reasoning for becoming a socialist. However, Rambelli argues that the excerpts were taken ‘out of context and re-signified…in a socialist fashion’, highlighting Gudō’s core Buddhist beliefs, attempting to utilize socialist motivations for societal change.² Moreover, Gudō established links between the social equality of anarchist communism and that of traditional Buddhist monastic life, still present in China. In doing so, Rambelli claims that Gudō shifted the ‘idealized utopia’ of the Buddhist sangha to a smaller scale to include a ‘self-contained social space’, more in line with the beliefs of socialist utopias.³

Gudō’s belief that social change begins through moral example reveals the Buddhist foundation of his activism. His support of the anarchist concept where the working class follows ruling-class leaders who renounce their property reflects his commitment to a radical, egalitarian ideal of shared equality.⁴ The working class should not revolt and take down the ruling class, as that would deem the latter as lesser than the former in the new anarchist society, according to Gudō. Furthermore, he firmly believed that the awakening of the masses by the aforementioned examples supports the ‘Zen Buddhist soteriology of…responsibility’; it was the responsibility of the leaders and workers⁵ Gudō’s ideological stances on these issues reveal his Buddhist core and depict him as a Buddhist involved in the anarchist movement.⁶

Gudō initially hesitated to support the anarchist violence necessary for a successful revolution, as it fundamentally opposed Buddhist principles. By the time Gudō fully accepted anarchism, however, the anarchist movement had begun to shift toward ‘direct, sometimes violent, action’.⁷ This shift had a clear impact on Gudō, as a key argument in his work Museifu kyōsan kakumei states that ‘readiness to use violence’ was necessary ‘to achieve’ a ‘revolutionary movement’.⁸ Despite his reluctance, the deteriorating medical condition of his socialist colleague Kōtoku Shūsui provided the final push toward his acceptance of the violence required to initiate a revolution.⁹ Gudō’s evident internal difficulty to accept violence revealed itself in his depiction of a god who ‘loves revolutionary martyrs’ in his writings, as no buddhas would love such individuals ‘in a modern Japanese context’.⁷ This internal difficulty demonstrates his inability to accept the inherent conflicting natures of Buddhism and anarchism.

Uchiyama Gudō’s growing acceptance of a violent revolution led him to distance himself from his original, more Buddhist understanding of anarchism. Gudō originally accepted socialism , and subsequently anarchism, as social methods for change and revolution, as they aligned well with his Buddhist beliefs. However, as he became more involved with socialism, it began to take precedence in his life, molding him into a Buddhist who was involved in the anarchist movement. Furthermore, Gudō came to embrace violence as necessary for a revolution and the success of anarchism in Japan. This acceptance created internal strife, as the anarchist path to outer revolution diverged significantly beyond the Buddhist path to inner liberation.

Fabio Rambelli, Zen Anarchism: The Egalitarian Dharma of Uchiyama Gudō (Berkeley, 2013), p. 15. [↩]
Ibid., p. 13. [↩]
Ibid., pp. 20-21. [↩]
Ibid., p. 16. [↩]
Ibid., pp. 27, 13. [↩]
Ibid., p. 30. [↩]
Ibid., p. 23. [↩] [↩]
Ibid., p. 18. [↩]
Ibid., p. 26. [↩]