Dôgen’s Tribalism and Willpower: Two Facets of Aggression and Its Resolution
Japanese Buddhism in the Kamakura Period was highly sectarian and vindictive in nature, which helped spur Dôgen Kigen to go and practice in China (Kraft 109). Upon his return, however, the innateness of aggressive potential that E. O. Wilson asserts in his text On Human Nature was exhibited by Dôgen in a variety of startling ways (McMullin 29). While simultaneously attempting to transmit Buddhist teachings and gain favor with the Japanese government, Dôgen presents a tragically human paradox, both suffering from the throes of aggressive behavior and claiming to hold the key to free people from it (Matsunaga 241).
Although the Chan Buddhism that Dôgen studied during his two-year pilgrimage to Sung China was sectarian in nature, the various Buddhist sects did a remarkable job of achieving a syncretic, inclusive harmony between them (Ferguson 5). Perhaps, as Wilson infers, the innateness of aggression involves “a probability that a trait will develop in a specified set of environments,” while other environments may not foster this development as much (Wilson 100). Whether viewed as an inherited cultural-genetic trait in Japanese culture or not, the overwhelming disunity and infighting among the various Buddhist schools struggling for dominance in Dôgen’s time was something that he did not successfully separate himself from, something uniquely Japanese (Matsunaga 240).
The various Buddhist reform movements springing up in Japan at that time, including Tendai, Shingon, Kegon, and the Pure Land, did not develop a thesis according to which loyalty to the emperor and to the state was separated from loyalty to the Buddha, and, in fact, they took pains to show that their teachings would benefit the state (McMullin 29-30). In 1234, soon after his return from China, Dôgen presented a petition to the Japanese Imperial court arguing that his “true Zen” was the sole protector of the nation, and that the other sects of Buddhism were inauthentic and harmful (Matsunaga 241). This move of course inspired the enmity of Mt. Hiei, the center of Tendai Buddhism, whose leaders charged that his dharma could only hurt the nation (ibid.). This runs parallel to Wilson’s biological observations, when he states: “Most kinds of aggressive behavior among members of the same species are responsive to crowding in the environment” (Wilson 103). If we take Japanese Buddhist sects to be a grouping of tribes of a similar species, an analogy can be drawn between the territoriality within a species and Dôgen’s political maneuvering.
Even the very structure of the Buddhist temples in Dôgen’s Japan, especially around densely populated Kyoto, suggested animosity. Many of the temples in the early Kamakura period were hardly distinguishable from fortresses because they were surrounded by earthen or stone ramparts and sometimes by moats, and they often had guard towers (McMullin 29-30). It was a time of great social upheaval for Japan, and each reformative Buddhist sect that formed during this time attempted to provide a unified, applicable solution through their various expressions of Buddhist practice (Matsunaga 239).
Dôgen’s answer to strife and uncertainty was the practice of zazen, or seated meditation focused on silent illumination (Abe 59). One of the first texts he completed after his dharma transmission in China was the Bendôwa, later to become the first chapter in the collection of his essays known as the Shôbôgenzô(ibid.). In this text, he presented eighteen articles to encourage the practice of zazen, at the same time leveling harsh criticism against the practices of rival Buddhist sects, including a comparison of the Pure Land’s nembutsu (a holy chant requesting aid from Amitabha Buddha, the main ritual of their practice) to the fruitless croaking of a frog (Matsunaga 240). His goals in actively pursuing political patronage and establishing himself in Kyoto failed, however, and after thirteen years of competition, he changed the focus of his goals and retreated to the distant mountain province of Echizen (Kraft 110).
After making the move to Echizen, a gradual but visible shift began to occur involving Dôgen’s priorities, from addressing the whole of Japan to a handful of dedicated monks; from struggling for acceptance from Kyoto to refusing invitations for court audiences; from proposing a universal practice for all humans, to claiming that only monks were sincere enough to realize and practice the true dharma (Bielefeldt 34). It is at this point that his writing both matured and blossomed in detail, and where the monastic practice that he learned in China was finally and fully actualized (Abe 221). He would eventually outline all of the aspects of the rituals, rules, and practices required for his monks, including intensive manual labor and extended meditation periods (Austin 77).
It is at this point that Dôgen presented a legacy that offers a resolution to the aggressive behavior that plagues human nature. While Wilson claims that “mastery over and reduction of the profound human tendency to learn violence” is comprised of “difficult and rarely traveled pathways in psychological development” (Wilson 119), there are modern scientists such as the neurobiologist James H. Austin who feel that intensive Zen practice has been such a pathway for over a thousand years, simply because “self-control is not difficult when there is less self to control” (Austin 74).
Dôgen’s solution for the various innate aspects of human nature involves a matter of discernment, a matter of intense investment of awareness in the present moment, addressing impulses as they come, and dismissing them as necessary (Bielefeldt 40). This sort of discernment involves a perspective on action that comes with the serenity and stability of monastic training, as is shown by the wide perspective that the abbot has in the following story, a favorite of Dôgen’s:
A Zen abbot once asked his assistant to beat and drive away a deer that was eating grass in the monastery garden. The assistant protested, to which the abbot replied:
“You do not yet understand. If we do not chase away the deer, it will soon become too tame. Then, when it approaches an evil person, it will surely be killed.” (Austin 651)
Not swayed by personal passions or goals, not distracted by discursive thoughts, the Zen abbot does his best to adapt to the situation.
Zen practice, when not embroiled in sectarian rivalry or political disputes, provides both mastery over and reduction of many of the aspects of human nature that seem to contribute to the greed, hate, and delusion of the world. It is this aspect of the Zen tradition that has brought it into the new millennium as a practice still imperfect, yet still very valid. Despite Dôgen’s obvious inconsistencies and shortcomings, his contribution both to Zen Buddhism and the whole of humanity still demands consideration.
Works Cited
Abe, Masao. Zen and Western Thought. Honolulu: U of Hawaii P, 1985.
Austin, James H., M.D. Zen and the Brain: Towards an Understanding of Meditation and Consciousness. Boston: MIT P,1999.
Bielefeldt, Carl. Dōgen’s Manuals of Zen Meditation. Berkeley: U of California P, 1988.
Ferguson, Andy. Zen’s Chinese Heritage: The Masters and Their Teachings. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2000.
Kraft, Kernneth. Eloquent Zen: Daitō and Early Japanese Zen. Honolulu: U of Hawaii P, 1992.
Matsunaga, Alicia and Daigan. Foundation of Japanese Buddhism Vol. II. Los Angeles: Buddhist Books International, 1976.
McMullin, Neil. Buddhism and the State in Sixteenth-Century Japan. Princeton: Princeton U P, 1984.
Wilson, Edward O. On Human Nature. Cambridge: Harvard U P, 1978.
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