Zen in the West Part I - How DT Suzuki Got it Wrong
By Adrian Chan-Wyles (ICBI)
Suzuki Daietsu Teitaro - 1870-1966
‘How hard, then, and yet how easy it is to understand Zen! Hard because to understand it is not to understand it; Easy because not to understand it is to understand it.’
(D.T. Suzuki: An Introduction to Zen Buddhism)
‘The Spirit of Bushido is truly to abandon this life, neither bragging of one’s achievements, nor complaining when one’s talents go unrecognised. It is simply a question of rushing forward toward one’s ideal.’
‘Dr Suzuki’s Writings are said to have strongly influenced the military spirit of Nazi Germany’
(Handa Shin – Editor - The Essence of Bushido [Bushido no Shinzui])[2]
(Author’s Note: This article first appeared in the eJournal of the ICBI - Patriarch’s Vision - Autumn Vol I. No. 9.)
The image of DT Suzuki in the West is a prime example of the victory of presentation over content. Scratch the surface of the mysterious nonsense that DT Suzuki taught gullible Westerners as ‘Zen’ - and there is no Chinese Ch’an – the progenitor of the Japanese Zen tradition. This is not surprising, as DT Suzuki’s entire life story is the product of a Japanese nationalism that denied the presence and relevancy of Chinese Ch’an culture in Japan. Suzuki was once quoted as stating that the thinking of Japan was ‘Indian’ (omitting the mention of China completely). It is a historical fact that Japan had no direct contact with ancient India, and relied entirely upon a Chinese transmission of Indian Buddhism to its island nation. Just as the Japanese military strove to eradicate Chinese life and culture during its invasion of China - the Japanese nationalistic ideologues strove with an equal purpose to remove all mention of Chinese Ch’an from Japanese Zen. As a consequence, DT Suzuki used a mish mash of bizarre and unrelated references drawn from both Eastern and Western sources, to fill the philosophical void. DT Suzuki misled the Western world to an astonishing degree, and it is only in very recent times that the glowing esteem within which he has been held has started to be questioned. The point is that even in Japan – DT Suzuki’s country of birth – his approach to Zen is not taken as authentic or suitable for Japanese people to practice. Indeed, it carries the name of ‘World Zen’ (due to its eclectic nature), and is distinguished from domestic Zen as a watered-down explanation of Zen only suitable for Westerners who do not understand Japanese culture or authentic Zen teaching. There does exist in Japan what might be termed ‘true’ Zen, (and since WWII many Westerners have trained in it and been successful in its cultivation), but DT Suzuki’s Zen – which spawned a number of misconceptions, and corrupt misunderstandings in the West, has led to the development of a number of Zen lineages that appear only to practice a form of nihilistic hedonism. Whilst thoroughly ‘Western’ in nature, these distorted lineages claim an authenticity simply from the fact that DT Suzuki was Japanese! All true Zen requires is the correct adjustment of mentality and all falls into place. DT Suzuki’s work becomes useful if all notion of his Zen are taken out of it. ACW 10.8.15
This article is a critical exploration of the Zen teachings associated with the lay Japanese Buddhist Zen teacher (and eminent academic) DT Suzuki (1870-1966), and is designed to question the accuracy and interpretations of those teachings in the light of the atrocities committed by the Imperial Japanese forces in China since 1931, and those further military atrocities committed by the Imperial Japanese forces against Western, Soviet and Asian Prisoners of War, both prior to, and during the Pacific War (1941-1945). The allegation is that the manner in which DT Suzuki taught Zen prior to, and during World War Two in Japan was deficient, incorrect, and the product of a virulent Japanese racialised nationalism which had very little to do with authentic Buddhist or Zen teaching. This being the case, the ‘Zen’ teaching Suzuki also (and apparently) first transmitted to the West both before and after WWII, (and the manner in which he transmitted it), must be objectively scrutinised for accuracy and ulterior motives. Before this process is undertaken, however, and as a matter of balance, the following paragraph is a translation of a Chinese text that mirrors the generally positive and uncritical attitude that exists in the West toward the memory of DT Suzuki. I have retained the original Chinese text for the convenience and interest of the general reader:
‘Suzuki Daisetsu: Japanese Buddhist scholar. Famous as a modern Japanese academic expert upon the subject of the Zen Buddhist tradition and its profound teachings. He is renowned as the single most influential Japanese person who introduced the teachings of the Japanese Zen tradition into the West, and as a consequence, being well known amongst the celebrities of the world. He trained at the Engaku-ji (or Zen temple) in Kamakura, and studied the Rinzai tradition of Japanese Zen Buddhism under the Zen master known as Soyen. He worked in the USA, Britain and several other countries, spending around 25 years of his life travelling and teaching. He presented Japanese Zen as a continuation of the Chinese Ch’an tradition, and was able to clearly convey the spread of this form of Buddhism (from ancient India, to China, and then Japan). Due to his education and experience, he was able to present Japanese culture to the West by translating Japanese Zen Buddhist texts into English, and then explain in depth what the key Zen terms meant to a Western audience. This process of exchange was facilitated by Suzuki’s profound understanding and appreciation of Western culture. Indeed, Suzuki became famous in the West through his published literature which comprised of English translations of important Japanese Zen texts. Suzuki’s generation of Zen teachers were generally more insular and disinclined to teach foreign students – whereas Suzuki reached-out to the Western world – in Japan his teaching is known as ‘World Zen Buddhism’.[3]
During the Pacific War (1941-1945), the United States of America (USA) went to war with Imperial Japan. Japan had been modernising and Westernising its military for decades as part of its preparations to expand its sphere of cultural and political influence across Asia (primarily China, but also India, Burma, Thailand and Vietnam), as well Communist Mongolia and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR). Japan had been fighting in northeast China in 1931, and in 1938 suffered its first real military disasters at the hands of the USSR’s Red Army in the Battle of Lake Khasan (situated in the border areas that separated the USSR from Chinese Manchuria). At that time, the Soviet forces swept away the Japanese military threat with a relative ease, despite the fact that the Japanese fought with their usual blend of fanaticism, courage, and indifference to casualties – a style of combat that would bring Imperial Japan many great military victories across the Asia-Pacific region against the USA and Great Britain over the ensuing years. Although the Soviets defeated the Japanese in 1938 (and again in 1945 in northeast China), the Western world looked on with a measured indifference. The British were quietly confident in the ability of their centuries old colonies to hold-out against any military attack from Japan, and the USA (one of the most modern countries in the world at the time), pontificated about whether to get involved in Europe or Asia. As matters transpired, the Japanese crushed Hong Kong and Singapore, invaded North India and Over-ran Burma, and many other places, including the Philippines. The Japanese did this with a combination of audacity, bravery, and disregard for convention (and casualties). The Japanese people did not fear the West, and were able to meet the military challenge on an even psychological and physical playing field – after all, Japan had never been colonised, and any Christian influence had been snuffed-out through imperial decree many decades prior to the dawn of the 20th century. In short, the Japanese did not operate as a culture that had been dominated by the West at the point of contact, but instead considered themselves ‘equal’, if not ‘superior’ in many ways to the West. This in part explains the confidence of the Japanese approach to modern warfare (which had previously seen victories against both China and Russia), where Japan had often acted as a military ally to the West (such as in the Boxer Uprising in China [1898-1900], and during WWI [1914-1918] for example).
Modern Japanese people, despite being genetically and culturally the descendents of Chinese people and Chinese cultural development, had long since developed a new mythological origination for their own nation, its language, and its religion, that served to eradicate any positive mention of China out of its history, and instead placed Japan as the great originator of culture in the region. In reality, the Japanese mythos inverted the obvious historical reality of the situation – that modern Japanese people originated in what is today modern Korea, and which was, in the past, part of China. This reversal of reality manifested in an ultra-Japanese nationalism that not only advocated a physical (i.e. ‘racist’) superiority, but also a ‘spiritual’ primacy over all other peoples – which was applied with a particular viciousness toward China and its people. During the Pacific War, however, this racial-spiritual superiority would be applied with a deadly vigour against US, Dutch and British Prisoners of War, as well as many other Asian prisoners. What has to be understood is that both the British and US ideologues (as well as the Dutch in the East Indies), propagated a racist Eurocentric ideology of their own, which sought to present Europeans as racially and culturally superior, and the Christian religion as the only true faith, or spiritual path. This meant that what Japan was doing was not unique to that nation, and it appears that at the time Japan was copying the West and turning its racism back upon it. This ‘Nippon-centric’ racial superiority simply replaced the ‘European’ as the ideal of racial perfection, with that of the Japanese person, and exchanged Christianity for the spiritual path of Japanese Shintoism. US military manuals of the period of the Pacific War routinely racialise the Japanese as being inferior in every way, and whilst allowing German-Americans to openly (and freely) express a support for Adolf Hitler in the US, Japanese-Americans were rounded-up and placed in Concentration Camps in the US. These facts explain the broad racialised background to the rise of Japan as a prominent military power during the 1930’s and 1940’s. What must now be investigated is the role of religion as an important and justifying element in the Japanese fighting spirit during that time, and how it was that otherwise highly disciplined Japanese soldiers were able to commit one atrocity after another without any apparent moral qualms or reservation, and why it is that various Japanese governments since the end of WWII have refused to acknowledge, or apologise for the very well documented war crimes its military personnel obviously committed in the past.
DT Suzuki is generally treated in Western Zen literature (predominately emanating from the US, but also the UK), as an ‘atypical’ representative of the Japanese people. The impression conveyed in such glowing literature is that WWII never happened, and that hundreds of thousands of Westerners did not die in the war against Japanese nationalism. The amnesia is astonishing, as Suzuki is taken out of his own ethno-centric and historical context, and re-invented in a style that can only be described as ‘user friendly’ from a Western political perspective. Why is the memory (and Zen teaching) of Suzuki treated in this privileged manner in the West, and why does there not exist a more critical element of interpretation of his life and activity during the rise of militarism and fascism in Japan? Considering the racial hatred generated at the time for the Japanese by the US government, and given that the US military purposely executed many supposed Japanese War Criminals after WWII, why was Suzuki elevated to the status of an international superstar? The answer is not necessarily to be found in the life and work of DT Suzuki himself, but rather in US foreign policy after WWII, and its confrontation with the its former ally – the USSR. Seeking to create a militarised buffer zone between the pro-American colony of Taiwan and Communist China, the US made a tremendous about face in foreign policy, and re-invented the Japanese nation in its own image. People such as DT Suzuki became in effect foreign ambassadors to the West in an attempt to weld the previously fascist (and newly democratic) Japan to the West and away from China. The US feared a Communist revolution in Japan (and there was good cause for this considering the two atom bombs dropped by the US at the end of WWII, and the total devastation of the Japanese nation). Japan had to be rebuilt in haste and its economy linked to the world market of the West. The taking of Suzuki out of his Japanese cultural context is of course a product of Eurocentric racialised thinking. For Suzuki to become ‘acceptable’ to the average Western mind, he must first become more ‘Western’. In this regard, the reworking of DT Suzuki’s image in the West by Westerners, is nothing more than a political expedient manifest through the auspices of Eurocentric racism. Despite the fact that Suzuki was very much a part of the Japanese nationalism that directly led to the Japanese attack on the American naval base at Pearl Harbour, this part of his life and identity is excised from his biography as if it never existed, and makes way for the ‘myth’ of Suzuki to be perpetuated. The ‘new’ Western-friendly Suzuki appears as a loveable father-figure who manifests on the world stage as if out of thin air. This Suzuki does not perpetuate Japanese national racism, but is ironically the singular product of Eurocentric racism. In an act of Zen-like sophistry, Japanese racism is replaced with the more acceptable (to the Western mind) Eurocentric racism, and the ‘new’ Suzuki becomes an over-night sensation in the Occident, despite the weight of history being against him. This unlikely turn of events can be described through a modern analogy suitable to the contemporary West. Suzuki’s conversion from pariah to demi-god is as improbable as a Muslim cleric who propagated a racist disdain for Westerners, and who supported a ultra rightwing fascist Islamic State in a war against the US; being suddenly given the task of introducing Islam to the West, after the military defeat of the fascist Islamic State he supported, and in so doing, becoming a household name. Recent history demonstrates that those who have militarily confronted the cultural hegemony of the USA (as Japan did during the Pacific War), have been imprisoned without trial, or executed, and not been subject to any policy of re-invention – such as Suzuki’s images appears to have experienced outside of Japan.
Considering the vast importance that Suzuki is granted in the West, (particularly amongst Western followers of Zen and religionists in general), and the fact that Western encyclopaedia carry extensive entries associated with his name,[4] it is interesting to see that by comparison, the Chinese language Wiki entry (compiled and used for educational purposes in Mainland China) is short and relatively sparse, but otherwise informative. This entry reads in English translation as follows:
‘Suzuki Daisetsu
Suzuki Daisetsu - Japanese language: ‘すずき だいせつ’ English translation ‘DT Suzuki’. DT Suzuki born 18.10.1870 – died 12.7.1966. His personal name was ‘Teitaro’ (ていたろう) – he also used the lay-Buddhist name of ‘Feng Liu’. He was born in the Kanazawa area of Ishikawa Prefecture, Japan.
In 1911, he travelled to the UK and introduced the subjects of Mahayana Buddhism and Japanese Zen Buddhism. In 1921, he became a professor at Otani University. In 1933 he translated the Lankavatara Sutra into English. In 1934 he travelled to China and debated with Hu Shi about his concept of ‘World Zen’. His other books include the ‘Prajnaparamita Sutra – Philosophy of Religion’, ‘Research on the Hua Yan Teaching’, ‘Research on Zen’, ‘Research on the History of Zen Thought’, ‘Ancient History and Philosophy of China’, and ‘Buddhism and Christianity’. Japanese scholars have pointed-out that Suzuki’s ‘Prajnaparamita Sutra – Philosophy of Religion’ represents ‘an entirely new and revolutionary way of thinking.’[1]
He was a prominent thinker who ‘struck-out into new directions of interpretation.’
1) Otani University Buddhist Edition (Translator Guan Shi Qian), ‘Guide to Buddhist Research’. (Taipei, East Book Company, 1993), Page 78.’[5]
Again, the Sino-Japanese and Pacific war years are omitted, but it is interesting to see in Chinese language sources the fact that Suzuki visited China in 1934 – three years after Japan’s military forces had already invaded the north-eastern area of China (i.e. ‘Manchuria’) in 1931. Suzuki’s so-called ‘World Zen’ at that time appears to be a vehicle for the justification of Japanese military expansionism. World Zen is a term coined in Japan to explain the quite different Zen that Suzuki exported to foreign lands. It is a Japanese term used to distinguish specifically ‘foreign’ Zen from ‘domestic’ Japanese Zen, which simultaneously recognises (for the native Japanese speaker) that the two types of Zen are ‘different’. They are different because Suzuki altered the way Zen is taught within Japan to suit the mentality of a non-Japanese audience, in this instance the West. The term ‘World Zen’ is written in Chinese as ‘世界禪者’ (Shi Jie Chan Zhe), and literally translates as ‘World Zen Practice’. Suzuki’s ‘World Zen’ is an interpretation of Zen Buddhism that is designed to travel outside of the geo-cultural area of Japan and into the outside world. As a mode of thought its formulation mirrors the development of Japanese nationalist and expansionist foreign policy, and the racialist instigation of Japanese rule over other Asian countries through the use of military power. Once the other countries are invaded, dominated, and subdued by the Japanese military, then came the task of ‘Japanisation’ (or the practice of Japanese colonialism), and it appears that ‘World Zen’ fits entirely into this policy of the expansion of Japanese imperial influence and the subjugation of other nations.
Once the political nature of Suzuki’s ‘World Zen’ is established, how far does its teachings deviate from Zen Buddhism as practiced in Japan? Before this question is answered, it is important to acknowledge the special circumstances that exist within Japanese Buddhism itself. The original transmissions of the Chinese Linji and Soto Ch’an Schools into Japan happened primarily during the 12th and 13th centuries CE, with Japanese monks travelling to China to study Buddhism, and then bringing their knowledge back to Japan and establishing schools of their own. Entry into China at this time was strictly controlled – particularly for those wanting to stay in Chinese temples and study Buddhism under Chinese masters. Foreign visitors to China had to be qualified for this task, and that meant that they had to be properly ordained monks (or nuns). A properly ordained monk (or nun) had to possess the appropriate certification proving that they had undergone a legitimate ordination process, and that they had taken (and were following) the moral guidance as taught in the Vinaya Discipline and the Bodhisattva Vows. The Chinese port authorities would bar anyone from entering China if the applicant failed to provide the appropriate documentation. This Chinese policy ensured that high standards of morality were both expected and upheld by ordained Buddhist monastics both inside and outside of China. This is how Chinese Ch’an was originally transmitted to Japan – where it became known as ‘Zen’. For hundreds of years this is how Zen was practiced in Japan, but due to an interesting event, the following of the Vinaya Discipline was eventually abandoned in that country – a cultural change of habit that drastically altered the nature and practice of Japanese monastic Zen Buddhism from its Chinese Ch’an progenitor. During the 12th century CE, a Japanese monk named Shinran travelled to China to study the Jodo (Chinese: ‘Jing Tu’) School of Buddhism. Upon his return to Japan, Shinran decided to abandon the Vinaya Discipline as he felt it had become an ‘attachment’ to his practice. Instead, he took a wife and encouraged his other disciples to follow his example. However, for around 600 years, this behaviour was only limited to the Jodo Sect in Japan, but following the Meiji Restoration of 1868, Japan embarked upon a sudden and dramatic modernisation drive that saw it look to the West for technological and cultural inspiration. The Buddhist practice of the Vinaya Discipline was viewed as an outdated habit brought into Japan by a foreign religion. Buddhist monks and nuns were allowed to retain their status as ordained monastics, but were also allowed to abandon the Vinaya Discipline in favour of the more general discipline associated with Bodhisattva Vows – the latter of which encourages altruistic behaviour, without a demand for total celibacy. This time period also saw the rise of a modern Japanese nationalism tinged with racism. Two years after the Meiji Restoration, DT Suzuki was born, and it is this epoch of Japanese political and cultural development that served as the back-drop to Suzuki’s upbringing and education. The Meiji Restoration period saw the abandonment and re-invention of tradition, and Japanese Zen Buddhism did not escape this transformation. For example, the modern Rinzai School of Japanese Zen has little in common with the Chinese Linji School that was originally transmitted to Japan and followed for hundreds of years. The Rinzai use of a rigid koan (Chinese: ‘gong-an’) system only dates back to the 18th century, a time that also saw the Soto School deviate from its Chinese Caodong School progenitor with its discouragement of koan usage. These developments probably occurred because of the rise in Japanese nationalism that perceived the naturalist teachings associated with Shintoism as the only proper representation of the Japanese national spirit. Buddhism, in an attempt to adjust to the new situation, found itself reforming to fit-in to the new Japanese political climate, and in so doing, it compromised and in many ways severed its historical and cultural ties with Chinese Ch’an Buddhism. This was inevitable at the time, as the Japanese imperial government pursued a rabid anti-China policy that was racist in nature, and which denigrated Chinese culture as inferior and unsuitable to Japanese living. Even martial arts masters on the Japanese controlled island nation of Okinawa were forced from the mid-1930’s onwards, to abandon any historical and cultural links to China, and ‘invent’ a new interpretation for the history of their originally ‘Chinese’ martial systems. The art known as ‘To-te’, or ‘Tang Hand’, became known as ‘Kara-te’, or ‘Empty Hand’, and this is how this Chinese martial art was transmitted into the West (via Japan) divested of any of its Chinese history or origination. This is why today most Westerners believe the martial art of Karate originated in Japan, and have no idea that in fact it was a Chinese martial system originally from the Fujian province.
In 1934, DT Suzuki travelled to China to debate with the Chinese scholar Hu Shi (1891-1962). Following the Western victory of the Boxer Uprising (1898-1900), and the deaths of tens of thousands of Chinese men, women and children killed by Western colonial troops in and around the Beijing area, the United States demanded that China, at its own expense, send young children to the US to study and become Christianised. This policy was designed to destroy indigenous Chinese culture from within, and prevent any further protests to the presence of Western imperialists and their Christian missionaries in China. Hu Shi became known as a respected scholar of the Western pragmatist philosophical tradition, and is renowned for applying a materialist interpretive paradigm when interpreting and assessing traditional Chinese culture and religion. Hu Shi was not only Westernised, but was also a staunch supporter of the Chinese Nationalist movement and its pro-Western agenda. As such, he avidly supported the United States’ anti-China political policy following the successful 1949 Communist Revolution in the Mainland; a development that consigned the remnants of the defeated Nationalist regime to the tiny island of Taiwan. In fact, so ‘anti-China’ was Hu Shi, that in early 1960 he issued a statement questioning the age of the Great Ch’an Master Xu Yun (1840-1959), who had recently passed away whilst in his 120th year of life (after spending 101 years as an ordained Buddhist monk). The tragedy of this situation was that Xu Yun was ‘apolitical’, and treated all regimes with a compassionate indifference. Hu Shi appears to have attacked Xu Yun’s integrity, implying that he lied about his date of birth, his father’s governmental position, and his age. Xu Yun’s biographer – Cen Xue Lu (1882-1963) - a fellow Nationalist and opponent of the Communist Revolution - was so disgusted with Hu Shi’s disrespectful attitude toward Xu Yun, that he felt compelled to publish an ‘Open Letter’ to the public explaining why Hu Shi’s opinion was poorly thought-out, and not based on any real evidence. Cen Xue Lu’s document exposed, in this instance, how Hu Shi was pursuing a purely political and non-academic agenda, whereby he appeared to be demeaning Buddhism as a philosophy, and Chinese culture as a tradition.[6] In 1934, however, during the Nationalist regime in China, and during the intensification of Japan’s anti-China policy, Hu Shi met DT Suzuki and discussed Suzuki’s concept of ‘World Zen’. Hu Shi was sceptical about Suzuki’s interpretation of Zen Buddhism, and accused him of reducing Buddhism to a mere ‘idealism’ (or ideas in the mind). This is a legitimate criticism, as the Buddha’s philosophy is defined as ‘namarupa’, or ‘mind-body’, and the Buddhist sutras are replete with examples of the Buddha rejecting notions of ‘idealism’ and ‘materialism’ as being valid in the explanation of his full enlightenment. Chinese Ch’an Buddhism, for example, does not go beyond the ‘nama-rupa’ philosophy of the Buddha. For Suzuki to limit Buddhism to idealism’ implies that he had altered Buddhism to make it more acceptable to Westerners who approached Buddhism from a Judeo-Christian bias. Buddha is distorted into a Christ-like figure, and his enlightenment is twisted into a representation of an imagined heaven on earth – this is how Suzuki distorts a complex Asian Buddhism, into a simplistic (and faith based) Western pseudo-religion. What follows is an English translation of a Chinese text regarding the gist of the conversation between Hu Shi and DT Suzuki in 1934:
‘The understanding of Ch’an has always been reliant upon the study of the Transmission of the Lamp Record, and it is this foundation that has been used to categorise and define the history of Ch’an. However, the modern Chinese scholar – Hu Shi – prefers to apply the scientific method when analysing the history and teachings of Chinese Ch’an Buddhism. In this regard, Hu Shi has questioned the authenticity of the Transmission of the Lamp Record as a legitimate historical document. By assessing the early Ch’an literature in an objective manner, Hu Shi is of the opinion that the facts can be separated from the fiction, and a reliable history of Ch’an can be established that rejects superstition and misconceptions.
This is how Hu Shi embarked upon a thorough and objective study of the history of Chinese Ch’an Buddhism. In this task, DT Suzuki often assisted, collecting relevant information and sharing it with Hu Shi on several occasions. There was also frequent communication and scholarly exchanges between the two. However, in the end it was obvious that their points of view and academic approaches differed markedly, and were as different as night is from day. The Japanese scholar Yanagida Seizan (1922-2006) specifically compiled his book entitled ‘Hu Shi’s Record of Ch’an History’, within which he recorded (in detail) the debate between Hu Shi and DT Suzuki.
Hu Shi stated that the ‘scientific method’ should be applied in the assessing of ‘history’, so that the true nature of the Ch’an tradition could be clearly perceived. DT Suzuki was very dismissive of this approach, and disapproved of its use. DT Suzuki was of the opinion that ‘intellectual analysis’ could not be used to explain the history of Ch’an, and could not be used to understand Ch’an. He criticised Hu Shi for pursuing a strictly ‘naturalist’ agenda, and pointed-out that even animals ‘think’. This exchange signifies the opposition that appears to exist in the Humanities to the use of modern research methods.
In his autobiography, Hu Shi states that the Buddhist teaching was transmitted eastward from India to China. Unfortunately, the exact details of this transmission are not fully understood due to a current lack of evidence. This is due to the long time periods involved, and the fact that in China Indian Buddhism underwent a transformative process of assimilation. This process developed traditions and interpretations in China that obscured observable facts. As an academic who utilised the scientific method of collecting evidence in his research, Hu Shi never let his emotions interfere with his work. This lack of emotionality is probably the biggest difference between Hu Shi’s thinking and DT Suzuki’s interpretation and understanding of Ch’an.’[7]
DT Suzuki, despite writing volumes in both the Japanese and English languages, and expressing an obvious intellectual direction of activity, nevertheless adopted an ‘anti-intellectual’ position when his interpretation of Japanese Zen was questioned. Whilst being a university professor who obviously secured this esteemed academic position through demonstrating an advanced intellectual understanding of his academic subject, (and despite the fact that he regularly exercised the use of his intellect), DT Suzuki appeared to deny those who opposed his interpretation of Zen the opportunity of proving his understanding wrong. This presents an illogical impasse, and it is this ‘illogicality’ that DT Suzuki interprets as being the correct demonstration of ‘Zen’. Suzuki used his intellect all the time whilst claiming that his ‘thinking’ about Zen was somehow ‘beyond’ the very intellectual thoughts he was creating. Suzuki’s Zen is an intellectually created Zen. Even a cursory surveying of Suzuki’s written work reveals a carefully unfolding paradigm that is the product of precise thought and careful planning. The Zen that Suzuki transmitted to the West (i.e. ‘World Zen’), is not the Zen he studied for four years whilst he was a young man living in a Zen temple in Japan. This can be demonstrated by simply comparing what Suzuki says in his English language works, with those of recently translated Japanese Zen texts intended to be studied by Japanese people studying Zen. This being the case, what exactly was Suzuki doing when inventing a new kind of Zen? This question can only be answered through the examination of pre-WWII Japanese nationalism, and the post-WWII US foreign policy toward Japan. Suzuki was active in both spheres of activity, and his presence offers an observable point of continuation between the two different geo-political situations. In the former pre-WWII situation, he sought to convert the racially and spiritually inferior Westerners into accepting a superior Japanese-influenced interpretation of the world. He attempted to do this by welding the faith-based elements of Judeo-Christian religious thinking onto a Zen-like spiritual foundation. This radically altered (and inverted) the authentic Zen teachings as practiced in Japan, but this did not matter, as unsuspecting Westerners had no knowledge of authentic Japanese culture to fall back upon. The rejection of ‘intellectualism’ was a clever move by Japanese nationalists like Suzuki, as it served to undermine the only Western habit of thought that could have protested against ‘World Zen’, and seen through its misrepresentations at the point of first contact. Departing from the teachings of Buddhism that reject theistic religion and faith based worship, Suzuki mystified his new Zen teaching by demanding that all his Western converts adopt a ‘non-thinking’ and ‘non-critical’ approach to the nonsense he was conveying to them. Furthermore, this ‘anti-intellectual’ stance was bolstered by the demand of an unwavering ‘blind-faith’ in Suzuki’s teaching, and its message. Although Suzuki often used terms like ‘realisation’ and ‘enlightenment’, the only real direction of activity for his Western students was one of ‘conformity’ and ‘non-contradiction’. The sphere of Japanese nationalism was far and wide a long time before any bullets were fired. If enough Westerners could be converted to a faith-based Zen hybrid – then obviously this had to potential to undermine Western resistance to Japanese military expansion and cultural domination. Suzuki’s ‘World Zen’ cannot be understood unless interpreted in the light of pre-WWII Japanese nationalism – a movement in Japan that Suzuki was very much a part of.
Of course, ‘World Zen’ did not conquer the west prior to WWII, and in the end did very little to weaken or water-down Western military resistance to Japan during the Pacific War. Suzuki’s approach was known in the West by a minority of interested individuals, scholars, and special interest groups, but it had not yet gained a broad or popular audience. Following WWII, Suzuki was not arrested or interrogated for his wartime ‘Zen’ activities, where he is known to have ‘racialised’ the enemy, and encouraged Japanese military recruits to kill without moral consideration or mercy to demonstrate a ‘Zen-mind’. The USA had militarily and economically devastated Japan before dropping two atomic bombs onto its cities. US forces occupied the Japanese mainland and at the time were ordered to show very little sympathy to the plight of its inhabitants. The Soviet Union was an ally of the USA during WWII, and acted in conjunction with Western military plans. In late 1945, the Soviet Red Army entered northwest China and destroyed the Japanese armed forces still fighting there – effectively freeing China from Japanese domination. Throughout the entire war, the USSR suffered 27 million casualties fighting Nazi Germany and Japan. After the US victory in WWII, the US radically changed its policy toward the Soviet Union, and this had a dramatic developmental effect upon the reconstruction of Japan. The Communist Revolution was achieved on the Chinese mainland in 1949, and the US decided upon a foreign policy that would see a rejuvenated (and Westernised) Japan form a physical, economic and ideological buffer zone between US interests in the Pacific region, and the forces of Chinese Communism. This ‘Cold War’ era saw former Japanese Zen teachers who had fully conformed to the strictures of a racialised Japanese nationalism prior to WWII, suddenly become ambassadors to the USA, as representatives of Japanese culture. These masters did not teach authentic Japanese Zen upon their arrival in America but continued to teach the distorted faith-based Zen as a method for Westerners to practice. Although it is true that Westerners did eventually travel to Japan and gain entry to authentic Zen training, (bringing back that genuine experience and starting legitimate Zen Schools in the West), it is also true that teachers such as DT Suzuki found great fame in the West by simply peddling pre-WWII ‘World Zen’ in a different geo-political climate. How does DT Suzuki’s ‘World Zen’ differ from authentic Zen teaching? Here are several points for consideration:
1) There is no such thing as ‘World Zen’ outside of the imaginations of a racialised, pre-WWII Japanese nationalism. The Buddha’s meditational teachings maybe described as ‘localised’ and intended for individual practice. There is no concept of ‘nationalism’ in the Buddha’s teachings, as this concept is viewed as being the product of greed, hatred, and delusion – the very three taints that the Buddha uproots with correct meditational practice. Therefore, from a Buddhist perspective, the notion of ‘World Zen’ is the product of delusion and not enlightenment.
2) World Zen advocates a ‘mental event’ as enlightenment, which is simultaneously anti-intellectual, and faith-based, whilst purporting to understand all things. This is illogical from a Buddhist philosophical perspective. Blind-faith is rejected by the Buddha, as he uses logical assessment and reasonable interpretation as a means to understand cause and effect, and thereby apply his teachings to uproot delusive activity in the mind (and body). Although the mind is ‘stilled’ of its deluded functioning, it is not dead, and in this enlightened state, both compassion and wisdom fully manifest. The state of a ‘dead’ and ‘unthinking’ mind is criticised in the Tang Dynasty Records that record the sayings of the Chinese Ch’an masters. Practitioners who fall into this inactive (or ‘anti-intellectual’) state, are said not to be practicing correct Ch’an or Zen.
3) Modern Japanese Zen (from around the 18th century) deviates from Chinese Ch’an in two radical ways. The only Ch’an lineages that were successfully transmitted from China to Japan are the Rinzai (Linji) and the Soto (Caodong) Schools. The Rinzai School adopted a stringent koan practice of intense contemplation of a word or phrase whilst sat in meditation, in an attempt to ‘force’ an enlightenment experience. This practice is unknown in the Linji Ch’an Records in China. The Soto School abandoned the use of koan consideration to focus instead upon hours of seated ‘Silent Illumination’ meditation – a practice that is unknown in the Caodong Ch’an Records. DT Suzuki was trained in the Rinzai tradition, but his approach as found in ‘World Zen’, undermines the Rinzai practice of relying upon an intense act of mind to realise understanding. Suzuki’s ‘anti-intellectual’ position, is in fact an intellectual position of choice (that denies the relevance or validity of its own nature), and prevents the Rinzai method from being properly applied and practiced. Although modern Japanese Zen deviates from established Chinese Ch’an practice, the ‘World Zen’ of Suzuki departs even from the perspective of modern Japanese Zen.
4) Idealism is a non-Buddhist trait that originates within the theism that the Buddha rejected. The Buddha explains (in the Four Noble Truths) that the agency of ‘mind’ exists only as long as sense organs are in contact with sense data. The Buddha states that the ‘mind’ is impermanent and falls away at the point of physical death. Although it is true that the mind is trained (as is the body), and when enlightenment is achieved the functionality of the mind is permanently transformed, it is also true that nirvana as a state, is ’unconditioned’, and therefore not reliant upon the mind that realises, or facilitates its revealing. Suzuki appears to be utilising the Western notion of idealism that assumes that thoughts in the head can somehow affect physical processes of cause and effect in a mysterious and unknowing manner. The Buddha explains reality as an interaction between the mind and the body (and by extension the environment), and he does this through explaining how exact types of thought motivate exact physical behaviours, and how exact physical behaviours illicit precise types of thoughts. There is no question of thoughts in the head affecting physical matter outside of the agency of physical action – as suggested by Suzuki’s interpretation associated with ‘World Zen’, an interpretation that was used as the basis for his 1933 English translation of the Lankavatara Sutra – a translation that has attracted criticism from modern scholars.[8] Suzuki misunderstands the Yogacara School – and assumes that its teachers are stating that the mind is ‘permanent’, when in fact the founders of this school clearly state that the mind is ‘impermanent’, but that in the unenlightened state, it serves as the primary agency for the required self-development toward the realisation of enlightenment. It is this misunderstanding of Suzuki that allowed him to equate the faith-based mysticism of the Judeo-Christian tradition with that of Zen Buddhism, and legitimise his ‘World Zen’ in the West.
5) The ‘World Zen’ notion of enlightenment perpetuated by DT Suzuki takes the Buddha’s achievement of enlightenment out of its historical and philosophical context. The impression is that the Buddha’s enlightenment runs counter to the use of reason and logic, when in fact the Buddha’s explanation of his own path, and the methods he used, are entirely premised upon reason and logic. By removing this intellectual content from Buddhism, Suzuki effectively removes the Buddha from his own teaching. It is a physical fact that the Buddha pursued a path of physical and psychological discipline prior to his enlightenment, and that he explained, through the thousands of his sutras, the cause and effect of this training. He laid a clear path from which Ch’an and Zen originated – probably from the Noble Eightfold Path as described in the Four Noble Truths (particularly the guidance relating to right effort, right meditation, right concentration, right view and right intention, etc). The Ch’an and Zen tradition developed through an emphasis upon meditation, and the permanent altering of the mind through encounter dialogue and unusual occurrences. None of this goes beyond the Buddha’s ordinary teachings, but does represent a particular specialisation of the teaching. Although Ch’an and Zen is said not to be dependent upon the use of words and letters – it is precisely the use of these very same words and letters that conveys this teaching. Suzuki perpetuates an anti-intellectual myth for Zen enlightenment, and in so doing removes the Buddha and his teachings from Zen. The Zen that Suzuki perpetuates is that of a purely existential fabrication that has no sense of its own past, and no sense of its own Buddhist philosophical context. This is because Suzuki’s Zen is a product of a Japanese nationalism that ascribed a racial and cultural superiority to itself, and in so doing denigrated the history of India and China. For Zen Buddhism to be acceptable in modern Japan, its obvious Indian and Chinese aspects had to be expunged, and its philosophy had to be seen to take on a definite Shintoist bias. As illogical as it seems, removing the Buddha from Buddhism is exactly what Suzuki (and many other Zen teachers of his generation) did, as part of the general trend of the time to export Japanese militarism and cultural domination abroad.
6) Throughout the majority of the time Zen has been present in Japan, Buddhist monks and nuns have diligently followed the Vinaya Discipline. This only began to change around the time of the Meiji Restoration (1868) and the initiation of Japan’s modernisation drive. Up until that time, Chinese Ch’an and Japanese Zen differed only very slightly, but after this time, the abandonment of the Vinaya Discipline meant that Japanese Zen developed in a very different direction. This difference was compounded by the changes to the Rinzai and Soto Schools of Japanese Zen Buddhism (in the 18th and 19th centuries), that saw a further diversion away from the Chinese Ch’an teaching. Further confusion ensued as to the real history of Chinese Ch’an (in China), as Western scholars chose to follow unquestionably, the views and opinions of Japanese Buddhist historians, whilst ignoring their Chinese counter-parts. This behaviour by Western scholars can be explained prior to WWII, as being motivated by an educational association with a modernising Japan that appeared to be ‘Westernising’ and ordering its academia accordingly. Although Japanese scholarship regarding the history of Ch’an in China is often incorrect, skewed, or misleading, Western scholars, accepted it uncritically and in so doing, unknowingly assisted the expansion of the dominance of Japanese nationalism across the world. After WWII, and despite the millions of dead in China, and the appalling behaviour of the Japanese military abroad, the Cold War foreign policy of the US ensured that the uncritical habit of accepting Japanese Buddhist scholarship continued unabated. This was relatively easy to achieve as China turned Communist in 1949 and was immediately ostracised and embargoed by America. With Chinese scholars and Chinese academia safely tucked away behind the ‘Bamboo Curtain’, Japan was free again to perpetuate its distorted version of Buddhist history whereby the prominence of China and Chinese Ch’an Buddhism was played-down, and the significance and importance of Japan’s own history inflated to the point of absurdity. At this juncture it has to be made clear that even today, although Japanese Zen Buddhist monks and nuns do not have to follow the Vinaya Discipline, many of them do so in a voluntary capacity. This is because many of the Zen temples in Japan are highly disciplined centres of learning premised upon the tradition of strict self-discipline – even if it is acknowledged that many head-monks now marry, and pass the custodianship of these temple to their sons, etc. However, a point that is often missed is that even if an ordained Zen monk or nun does not follow the Vinaya Discipline, they generally do (and are required) to follow the Bodhisattva Vows. In China, the Vinaya Discipline and the Bodhisattva Vows are followed by all fully ordained monks and nuns. This is because the Bodhisattva Vows are very strict in their own guidance, and require a great discipline to uphold. This is true even if it is taken into account that ‘celibacy’ is not required when following the Bodhisattva Vows (this is because lay people also take these vows). Whereas the Vinaya Discipline seeks to eradicate all sexual desire in word, deed, and thought, the Bodhisattva Vows seeks only to control and discipline it. Therefore a Japanese Buddhist monastic only has to modify the Bodhisattva Vows covering sexual control, to the voluntary practice of sexual abstinence, and by default the Vinaya Discipline is established. In the work of DT Suzuki, the idea of following any kind of spiritual discipline is supplanted by the notion that anyone can realise enlightenment free of the need of self-cultivation. This position essentially means that for Suzuki, enlightenment is a state of being which is detached from any moral imperative. Enlightenment for Suzuki is an existential ideal that is out of time and space, and non-reliant upon history and the auspices of ordinary human endeavour. This is a strictly ‘non-Buddhist’ interpretation of Buddhist enlightenment, and reflects the pre-WWII Japanese nationalistic thinking that prepared its military personal to kill without moral impediment or consideration. For this to be a success, a paradigmal break had to be made with the traditions of Chinese Ch’an Buddhism because of its stern reliance upon moral discipline, and its strict adherence to the Buddha’s teachings. The co-opting of Western scholarship into unthinkingly accepting this ‘new’ Japanese scholarship only served to legitimise it in a rapidly changing world. The illogicality of Suzuki shines very brightly here, as he asserts that enlightenment is a state of mind (but not a state of body), that the body does not need to be disciplined when disciplining the mind; that enlightenment is a state of mind, but not a state of intellect; that ‘thinking’ cannot find enlightenment unless Suzuki’s teachings (which are a product of his thinking mind) are accepted without criticism; and that modern Japanese Zen is more important than the Chinese Ch’an that created it. Suzuki needs to retain intellectual control of his audience and so he uses a mixture of illogical mysticism, (such as the ‘one-mind cannot be truly understood by the thinking mind’), and intellectual sophistry disguised as Buddhist wisdom (or ‘prajna’). The underlying assumption that Suzuki is conveying is that he is truly enlightened and that you are not. As you are not enlightened, you cannot possibly understand or appreciate the sheer depth of mastery his teachings represents. This being the case, as is typical in cult-like situations, the only choice Suzuki offers his unsuspecting audience is that of following his proscriptions entirely and without question. In this situation, the struggling aspirant can at least gain some karmic merit by being associated with Suzuki’s ‘enlightened’ understanding and obvious (and assumed) greatness. Of course, Suzuki’s personal greatness here is merely a reflection of how imperial Japan perceived itself in the run-up to WWII. In perpetuating this mythos of himself, Suzuki could not allow any genuine Buddhism to entire the hermetically sealed intellectual environment that he had created, for if he did, and the aspirant really managed to uproot greed, hatred, and delusion, then the Buddha’s genuine teaching would have also exposed Suzuki’s delusion, and demonstrated that if Suzuki was met on the road – even then he must be struck down!
[1] This refers to a Japanese language article written by Suzuki at the height of Japanese fascism in 1941. It appeared as a chapter (named ‘Zen and Bushido’) in the Japanese militaristic book entitled ‘The Essence of Bushido’ (Bushido no Shinzui) edited by Handa Shin. This justified warfare and killing as natural acts of amoral action. Suzuki was quick to use Zen to justify Japan’s military aggression in China and elsewhere. (See: Zen at War by Brian Daizen Victoria – Pages 110-111 of the 2006 Rowman & Littlefield Publishers edition.
[2] See: Zen at War by Brian Daizen Victoria – Pages 110-111 of the 2006 Rowman & Littlefield Publishers edition. Also see Footnote 43 (Page 242) of the same book – which explains how Suzuki’s works had been translated into Italian and German prior to WWII – and how Suzuki’s distortion of Zen met with ideological praise from the Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany. Dr Karl Haushofer (one of Hitler’s chief advisors) spoke glowingly of the Japan’s feudal spirit.
[3] Extracted from <http://www.shixiong.com.cn/quanzi/10/8813/> Accessed 8.8.15. This Chinese language page is entitled ‘世界禅者-铃木大拙’ (Shi Jie Chan Zhe – Ling Mu Da Zhuo), or ‘World Zen - DT Suzuki’. There are a number of Chinese language pages on the mainland Chinese search-engine Baidu which present a positive image of DT Suzuki and which make no mention or any reference to his wartime teaching method and activities. Many of these pages appear to be straight Chinese language translations of extant positive Western descriptions of Suzuki and this fact may explain the omission.
[8] See: Existence and Enlightenment in the Lankavatara-sutra – A Study in the Ontology and Epistemology of the Yogacara School of Mahayana Buddhism: By Florin Giripescu Sutton, SUNI, (1991), Foreword by Prof. Ninian Smart, but also throughout the book, which serves as a general deconstruction of Suzuki’s mistaken assumption that the Lankavatara Sutra represents a type of Buddhist ‘idealism’. Sutton clarifies that the term ‘Citta-maitra’ (i.e. ‘Mind-only’) represents an emphasis of practice, and does not represent a metaphysical statement or theory. The world is not ‘mind only’, but the Buddha did appear to emphasise a dominant role for the mind during self-cultivation (providing the body was in a state of suitable discipline). However, the Buddha also taught that the ‘mind’, like all constructed things, is ‘empty’ of any substantiality, and is impermanent. Suzuki, through his misunderstanding, reduced Asian Buddhism to a type of theistic religion suitable for the Judeo-Christian thinking of the Western audience from which his popularity outside of Japan orignated.
