Tag: nishida kitarō

Can intellectuals avoid totalitarian instrumentalisation? Nishida’s thought and Japanese imperialism

Can an intellectual avoid instrumentalisation of their thought under totalitarianism? That is the problem faced by intellectuals in an environment of totalitarianism, whose options are few and trying: to join or be co-opted by the totalitarian project, to retreat in the face of power, or resist and risk persecution. For Nishida Kitarō, and for the philosophers associated with the Kyoto School, this was the prospect faced under Imperial Japan. As an examination of the activities of the philosophers and their period writings show, many were co-opted into providing an intellectual basis for Japanese imperialism, and for Nishida, who intellectually resisted the procession of totalitarianism and ultranationalism of the period, still found his resistance to be ineffectual, and his thoughts ignored or co-opted in service of justifying Japan’s imperial project.

In the context of Japan from the 1920s onwards, this totalitarianism appeared in the form of rising ultranationalism that policed the boundaries of acceptable public discourse, and thus the limits and language within which academic philosophy, as practised by Kyoto School philosophers, must reside. A number of events marked the rise of nationalism and its intrusion into the academic space. The 1925 Peace Preservation Law, the establishment of the Superior Special Police Force and the Research Centre for National Spiritual Culture, as well as the Takikawa Incident and Minobe Incident, saw the gradual tightening of the bounds of acceptable discourse in academia.1 This was the effective prohibition of support for liberalism and questioning of the Emperor’s divine authority. The publishing of the Fundamentals of the National Polity set most explicitly the lines and language of political orthodoxy, effectively within which academia must preside.2 It is within this context which Nishida and other Kyoto School intellectuals operated, and in which their response to totalitarianism should be understood.

One consideration may be whether the weaponization of the Kyoto School’s thoughts was deliberate, either by Nishida himself or by other intellectuals associated with his philosophical thoughts. For Nishida, who had fundamental disagreements with the political orthodoxy, participation in politics implied much resistance and persuasion within the acceptable discursive language, though resistance was ineffectual and co-option still pervasive. The case of the Principles of the New World Order is a pertinent case. Written in 1943 with the prospect of influencing the Tōjō government, Nishida’s initial essay was rejected on grounds of being too difficult to understand, and on revision by Tanabe Juri, an associate, was submitted to the government’s audience. Nishida would be disappointed by Tōjō’s understanding of his writing.3 Accounting for Nishida’s indifference towards Tanabe’s draft, Principles stand as a case of the inability of intellectuals to resist and effect change in a totalitarian environment. Both because of its rewriting and the need to follow the language of political orthodoxy, such as Nishida’s use of hakkō ichiu, in its subversion leaves open the space for misinterpretation in support for Japanese imperialism.

For other philosophers of the Kyoto School, their divergent treatment of Nishida’s thoughts is emblematic of the different approaches to working in a totalitarian context. Miki Kiyoshi, a student of Nishida, argued for a theory of cosmopolitanism based on Nishida’s thoughts that privileged Japan’s position as a leader of Asian countries as a product of its unique good qualities.4 For Tanabe Hajime, who drew on Nishida’s concepts of negation, the dialectic between state and individual, particularly one’s absolute rejection in death, could be construed to advocate for the sacrifice of individuals in service of the state.5 In both such cases the co-opting of philosophy in service of totalitarianism was deliberate, as Nishida’s thoughts are taken beyond the control of its originator. Thus is the limit of an intellectual’s ability to avoid instrumentalisation in totalitarianism.

  1. Christopher S. Goto-Jones, Political philosophy in Japan: Nishida, the Kyoto School, and co-prosperity (New York, 2005), pp. 73-75. [↩]
  2. Ibid., p. 77. [↩]
  3. Ibid., pp. 79-81. [↩]
  4. John Namjun Kim, ‘The Temporality of Empire: The Imperial Cosmopolitanism of Miki Kiyoshi and Tanabe Hajime’, in Sven Saaler, J. Victor Koschmann (eds), Pan-Asianism in Modern Japanese History: Colonialism, regionalism and borders (London, 2007), pp. 156-160. [↩]
  5. Ibid., pp. 163-166. [↩]

Epistemology, Ontology and Nothingness: The Kyoto’s School’s Ideas on 無

The Kyoto School (京都学派) of Japanese philosophers provides a fascinating insight into the combination of 20th Century German and Buddhist philosophy. The combination of Western philosophical analytical frameworks and unique East Asian perspectives, gave rise to ideas on the self, existence, and experience (phenomenology), that had never before been seen.

The Kyoto School’s efforts to understand the Buddhist concept of “Nothingness” (無) contrasted with Heideggerian understandings of ‘being’ is a good example of how fundamental assumptions in Western Philosophy are difficult to apply to certain concepts. [1] Nishida’s efforts to “topologise nothingness” portrays how his understanding of both Buddhism and Western thought on “self” produced a unique philosophical position. The Buddhist idea of Nothingness, in Nishida’s view, is a ‘place’ where subjectivity and objectivity are part of a whole, and where knowing and experiencing exists together. Hence, Nishida contextualised Nothingness in Western Philosophical terms as a “meontology” or “mu-ontology”, a category of analysis that does not quite fall into traditional categories in philosophy. Although the term “mu-ontology” has been used to describe Nishida’s thought, I believe that the way he describes the phenomena of self and the world around self suggests a breakdown of the traditional barriers between epistemology and ontology. [2] 

Brett W. Davis discusses this idea in terms of the separation of epistemology and ontology. However, it seems almost counterproductive to do so when understanding Nothingness. Nishida’s referral to Nothingness as a “place” bashō (場所), despite explicitly denying this separation, suggests that the idea falls into the realm of Ontology more so than Epistemology. [3] Despite this, by examining the practice of meditation as a path to enlightenment, we can better understand what Nishida is attempting to do in his philosophy.

Zen practices of meditation as a means of achieving enlightenment, discuss Nothingness as both an experiential and phenomenological process, guided by an internalised understanding of the Dharma. This suggests that in Buddhist thought, epistemology and ontology are not separated. To reach a state of Nothingness, a practitioner must simultaneously understand the Dharma (epistemological) and change their view of the world around them (ontological). That is to say, that, to know something, also changes one’s perception of the world and vice versa. The continual process of combining the two allows one to reach such a stage in their path to Enlightenment. [4] Thus, Nishida’s attempt to form an understanding of Nothingness by finding an alternate philosophical perspective that integrates a fundamental split in Western Philosophy is enormously impressive. This is because Nishida’s concept of combining epistemology and ontology are rare in philosophical discussions now.

Returning to original Buddhist texts, the classical description of Nothingness taken from the Heart Sutra describes it as a state where the dualities of existence and non-existence become one, and the “self” exists without attachments (5 Aggregates, or Skhanda). [5] In this case, the Heart Sutra describes Nothingness not necessarily as a “place” as Nishida describes it, but rather as a state of being. Perhaps Nishida’s attempts to reconcile the subjective and objective, are an effort to rationalise Nothingness both as a state of being and also a “place”. By saying that there is no distinction between what exists in the mind and what exists in reality, one can rationalise Nothingness as a “place”. This perplexing idea that appears to be diametrically opposed, is later re-examined by Hajime Tanabe in Hegelian terms; by treating existence and non-existence through a dialectical thought process. [6]

Tanabe criticised Nishida’s understanding of Nothingness as an unmoving “place” that merely exists at a point in time and space. His application of the Hegelian dialectic created a more dynamic understanding of nothingness as a “moment of absolute negation”. This understanding of Nothingness seems more similar to the experiential descriptions that exist in the Heart Sutra. [7] Rather than seeing Nothingness as a state that is reached and maintained, Tanabe’s conceptualisation of it as consistent existence and non-existence resonates more accurately with the Heart Sutra. Indeed, Tanabe’s criticisms did go on to influence the way Nishida considered his original ideas. Towards the later stages of Nishida’s thought, he began to see Nothingness less as a “place” and more as a continual dialectic process.

With all of this considered, there is a distinct possibility that I may have misunderstood Nishida and Tanabe’s ideas on Nothingness. The ideas discussed by the Kyoto school are very difficult to grasp and are questions that perplex even experienced practitioners of Zen. That being said, I believe that it is beneficial to genuinely reflect on the efforts that the scholars of the Kyoto School have made to apply different philosophical perspectives to existing thought. Figures such as Nishida and Tanabe amongst the other Kyoto School philosophers have made a serious effort to apply what they have learnt from Western philosophy to a central idea in Zen Buddhism. I would hope that their work receives more attention and generates greater dialogue in the years to come.

[1] Davis, Brett W., The Kyoto School, https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/kyoto-school/, 2019, Introduction

[2] Ibid, Section 3

[3] Ibid, Section 3.3

[4] Gethin, Rupert, The Foundations of Buddhism, 1998, pp 175-176

[5] The Heart Sutra

[6] Davis, Brett W., The Kyoto School, https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/kyoto-school/, 2019, Section 3.4

[7] Ibid, Section 3.3

Kuki Shūzō and Nishida Kitarō – Fascists or Subjects of Ideological Manipulation?

Christopher Goto-Jones makes the convincing argument that Nishida Kitarō did not promote facist ideologies, but instead that he expressed opposing political views with philosophical language. Goto-Jones argues that Nishida employed orthodox vocabulary in his political texts from the 1930s and 1940s in order to ensure that his texts would be published and also to avoid punishment from the increasingly totalitarian government.1 Nishida is often regarded as the founder of the Kyoto School, however unlike other groups of thinkers who are unified by an academic institution or an official organization, the Kyoto School can be used to loosely group together a diverse set of thinkers who did not formally organize.2 Although historiography on the Kyoto School is varied, the dominant view is expressed by James Heisig, who defines the school in terms of three central contributors: Nishida, Tanabe Hajime, and Nishitani Keiji.3 Although these figures may all be thought of as belonging to the Kyoto School, their philosophical thought differed greatly. This had adverse effects on Nishida in particular, the oldest of the three scholars, whose words were quoted out of context, thereby “manipulating his linguistic and ideological conventions into forms that resonated much more closely with the ultra-nationalist orthodoxy.”4 The language used by Nishida, necessitated by security concerns due to an overbearing government, created the possibility for ideological manipulation which resulted in Nishida’s thought being viewed as fascist.

The framework that Goto-Jones uses to exonerate Nishida from claims that he supported Japan’s brutal imperialism is a useful tool which can be instrumentalized in a discussion about Kuki Shūzō to show how the representation of Kuki’s ideas as fascist resulted from a lack of contextualization. Kuki is described as having been on the fringe of the Kyoto School, probably due to his teaching position at Kyoto Imperial University more so than due to similarities in philosophical orientation.5 Despite the fact that Kuki is not considered a central figure in the Kyoto school, and that his philosophy was markedly different than Nishidas, his ideas were also taken out of their original context and used to support facist ideologies. Similar to the process of de-contextualization of Nishida’s works which Goto-Jones describes as contributing to the false classification of this scholar as a fascist, Kuki’s writings have been taken out of their original context in order to support the claim that he was an active supporter of the fascist policies of the Japanese government.

In the case of Nishida, this ideological manipulation was undertaken by his fellow Kyoto School scholars, whereas in the case of Kuki it was done by scholars such as Leslie Pincus. Pincus argues that “By the late 1930s, Kuki had enlisted the tripartite structure of iki in the service of an ultranationalist imperial state.”6 In this view, Kuki’s vision of the aesthetic style of pre-Westernized Japan which he saw as a signifier of Japan’s capacity to excel in the modern world, as described in Iki no kōzō, provides an philosophical basis for Japanese domination in East Asia. As Yukiko Koshiro observes, Pincus’s failure to include Kuki’s other philosophical works in her study “dilutes the overall validity of her analysis.”7 Similar to the way in which Nishida’s works were taken out of the political context in which he wrote them to demonstrate his supposed support for fascist policies, Pincus uses Kuki’s Iki no kōzō without locating the text among his other contributions to show how it was used as a tool of cultural fascism. The alternative view, that “Kuki was unlikely to have been a willing and active conscript in serving the ideology that fueled Japan’s imperialism”, is more convincing because it accounts for the scholars lack of control over the ideological manipulations that their work is subject to.8 Goto-Jones’ analysis of Nishida’s works is a useful framework for an investigation into the political orientation of Kuki because it demonstrates how a philosopher’s work can be enlisted in fascist state policy, regardless of the author’s intentions.

  1. Christopher Goto-Jones, Political Philosophy in Japan: Nishida, the Kyoto School and Co-Prosperity (London, 2009), pp. 81-86. [↩]
  2. Bret Davis, ‘The Kyoto School’, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Summer 2019, [accessed 14 November 2020]. [↩]
  3. James Heisig, Philosophers of Nothingness: An Essay on the Kyoto School (University of Hawaii Press, 2001), p. 3-7 and 275-278 as cited in Davis, ‘The Kyoto School.’ [↩]
  4. Goto-Jones, Political Philosophy in Japan, p. 105. [↩]
  5. James Heisig, Thomas Kasulis, and John Maraldo (eds.), ‘Philosophers of Nothingness: An Essay on the Kyoto School’, in Japanese Philosophy: A Sourcebook (Honolulu, 2011), p. 829 [↩]
  6. Leslie Pincus, ‘In a Labyrinth of Western Desire: Kuki Shuzo and the Discovery of Japanese Being’, Boundary, 18: 3 (1991), p. 154. [↩]
  7. Yukiko Koshiro, ‘Review of Authenticating Culture in Imperial Japan: Kuki Shūzō and the Rise of National Aesthetics (Berkeley, 1996), by Leslie Pincus’, The Review of Politics, 59: 3 (Summer, 1997), p. 607. [↩]
  8. Hiroshi Nara, The Structure of Detachment: The Aesthetic Vision of Kuki Shuzo (Honolulu, 2004), p. 6. [↩]