AMIDA
TRUST

Occasional paper

EAST AND WEST

by Dharmavidya David Brazier

Buddhism has been influenced strongly by the different cultures that have hosted and been transformed by it. Buddhism has shown a remarkable capacity for entering into a dialectical process with the indigenous cultures it has encountered. This process has yielded new syntheses. In this essay I will look at this process, draw some conclusions and make some recommendations. This is, therefore, a broad-brush approach. I will deal with various commonly held ideas and work from them toward some recommendations. I will use "the West" to indicate Europe and North America taken together and "the East" to indicate India and China taken together, in each case also including the spheres of cultural influence dominated by these four centres of civilisation.

Active or Passive?

There is a common stereotypical view that the East is passive and the West is active. There is some truth in this generalisation, but the way it has worked out in Buddhism has been paradoxical.

In the past century, Buddhism has undergone a rejuvenation. This has occurred both in Asia and in the West. In the West, the discovery of Buddhism has tended to generate an introspective religion in which concepts like Buddha nature are all too frequently taken as indicating a soul-like essence and practice is taken to be something individual. In the East, the rediscovery of Buddhism has as frequently generated an engaged, socially conscious, extrovert yet social religion where in India millions have converted to the Dharma in order to reject the caste system and in China in the first half of the twentieth century, the leading Chinese master Taixu was declaring the Fojiao Geming – the Buddhist revolution.

In a way, both of these developments owe quite a lot to the encounter between Buddhism and Christianity, though in opposite ways. In the East Buddhism was challenged by Christianity's successes. These were seen as lying in the area of this-worldly application of practical virtues. In the West, on the other hand, Buddhism was seen to offer what Christianity seemed no longer to cater for, which was inner cultivation.

There are, of course, many specific exceptions to these trends, but this has been the broad pattern. As a result, a kind of reversal has happened. The West is reputed to be practical and out-going, but Western Buddhism is introspective and unengaged. The East is reputed to be introspective and unconcerned about social implications, but Eastern Buddhism has regenerated on the strength of passionate concern about social issues. In recent years, a certain amount of balancing up has occurred. Western Buddhism has begun to engage with social issues and in the East some more traditional elements have reasserted themselves.

Progressive or Retrogressive?

Another common view is of the West as a place where people believe in progress whereas the East is a place where the past is seen as ideal and civilisation is conceived either to be in long term decline or is seen to be on the downward turn of a cyclical pattern in history. Again, there is a good deal of truth in these stereotypes. What might be called progress-thinking is very common in the West and decline-thinking has been widespread in the East. There is a long history behind this.

The Western component here derives more from Greece than from Christianity. The earliest of the Pre-Socratic philosophers was Thales. He seems to have established a tradition in which his disciples felt free to and perhaps even obliged to criticise and improve upon the ideas that he had advanced. The result was a vibrant period of thought and investigation. One can perceive a lineage passing from Thales to Anaximander to Xenophanes to Parmenides and so on. None of these philosophers slavishly followed his predecessor. Each developed new ideas using the predecessor as a springboard. As a result, Parmenides had worked out that the world is a sphere, that the moon does not have its own light, that the morning star and the evening star were the same celestial body and so on, and all this two thousand years before Columbus. The point is that even though Western knowledge and civilisation have waxed and waned and waxed again many times, the ideology has tended throughout to be one of linear progress and this has had benefits, even though such benefits have not always been sustained.

In the East, theories of history have more often been cyclical. The cycles are sometimes of vast proportion – kalpas long – and sometimes have a more historical dimension. Thus there are several perspectives widely held by Buddhists that see the world as in decline from the time of the Buddha onward. Various time periods are advanced, but at several periods of Buddhist history there has been a widespread sense that the world had entered the "Dharma ending age" or the period of "final Dharma"(Chinese: mo fa). The sixth century in China and the thirteenth century in Japan were such periods and both were periods of rapid development in Buddhist thinking and practice. Generally, it was suggested that there were three historic periods since the Buddha. These are called cheng fa (True Dharma), hsiang fa (semblance Dharma) and mo fa, respectively. This sense of decline certainly had a marked influence upon the evolution of Pureland Buddhism in China and Japan. Ideas about a pashcimakala, or latter age, existed in Indian Buddhism too but were much less pronounced.

In the West there has been some debate about whether progress is a good thing and even about whether progress is a reality. The idea of progress itself, however, has continued to be the benchmark. Either people agree with or disagree with progress. In the East, there was, until modern times, very little interest in the idea of progress. What was at stake there was the question whether degeneration was a reality or not. This was a very important question for many of the most seminal thinkers in the great ages of buddhist expansion in both China and, several centuries later, Japan. Even within just the Pureland tradition in a single era, there were people who strongly held to the degeneration thesis, like Honen; ones who strongly opposed it, like Gyonen; and many who were not sure, like Saigyo. The question was, however, in the East, always "degeneration or not?" and, in the West, "progress, good or bad?" Non-degeneration, in the East, did not mean progress, it simply meant that things nowadays are just as conducive as they were in Buddha's day. And in the West, even when degeneration has been identified it is almost invariably framed as a temporary setback rather than an enduring trend.

Now, the Buddha himself did not, as far as I am aware, make any strong statement on this issue of historical progress or degeneration. We can, therefore, ask ourselves what we should make of it. As Buddhism took root in China, it was deeply affected by the philosophy of degeneration. As Buddhism takes root in the West, it is likely to be equally deeply affected by the philosophy of progress. This could have a profound effect upon how we think about Dharma.

Progressive Dharma?

The terms progress and degeneration are not simply descriptive. They have ethical implications. These implications can be taken in different ways. Thus accepting the idea that we live in a degenerate age may lead to a sense that one should exert oneself much harder in one's spiritual practice. It may inject a sense of urgency. Alternatively, it might lead to despondency about one's capacity to act in an ethical way. Even the latter, however, need not necessarily be demoralising. Honen, who believed that his was an age in which it was impossible to keep even one of the Buddha's precepts, was, by all accounts, a saint whose own personal ethics were superior to those of many other people who did not share his humility about the human condition. We should be cautious, therefore, before we assume that belief in progress or belief in degeneration will make either happen or that not believing will necessarily correlate with non-occurrence. After all, a big element in genuine ethical progress is humility. As a matter of fact, the periods when degeneration belief has been strongest have broadly speaking been the periods of Buddhist history when the most innovation has occurred and the most vibrancy has been apparent.

Similarly, belief in progress tends to imply an ethic of improvement but does not necessarily ensure that that is what happens. Each generation is expected to improve upon the previous one. If this had been applied to Buddhism it would mean that later Buddhists would have been expected to do better than Buddha himself, just as Anaximander was expected to improve upon Thales. Of course, it is true in fact that there have been many Buddhist innovators and many creative teachers. Almost invariably, however, they see themselves as restoring the original meaning of Buddha's Dharma that has got lost. They shrink from portraying themselves as genuine innovators. Even Taixu (1890-1947) who advocated a ("Buddhist revolution") believed that his xin fojiao ("new Buddhism") was simply the original Buddhism of Shakyamuni represented in modern circumstance (Pittman 2001).

Clearly there is a fundamental doctrinal issue at stake here. It is axiomatic to most schools of Buddhism that what Buddha taught cannot be improved upon. All improvements must, therefore, be attributed to the founder. This is quite a good system in some ways since it does not stifle innovation, but it does provide some antidote to pomposity.

A Better World?

Pureland Buddhism can be taken in a number of ways, each of which reflects a different facet of the issues briefly explored above. Thus, some people may follow Pureland because they think that this world has degenerated so far that there is no hope either for it or for themselves other than to rely upon Amida and hope to be born in his Pure Land (jing tu) after death. This form of Pureland is widespread. Then, secondly, there are those who have no particular thoughts about the afterlife, but feel that the Pure Land is a symbol for what can be achieved here in this life. Taixu, mentioned above, for instance, spoke a good deal about renjian jingtu, i.e. a Pure Land here in this world. It is people who have been inspired by his ideas, such as Hsing Yun and Zheng Yan, who have created the huge Buddhist humanitarian organisations that are now based in Taiwan and work all over the world, efforts that dwarf anything achieved by engaged Buddhists in the West. Then, thirdly, there are many in the Buddhist world who take the Pure Land to not be a location or social phenomenon at all, but who understand it to be a state of mind. Of course, these three types of Pureland orientation are not fundamentally irreconcilable with one another. One can believe that a Pure Land is attainable here on this earth, and believe that the Pure Land is fundamentally a state of mind and believe that when you die Amida will meet you and transport you to a wonderful place. The three do, however, tend to be expressions of different temperaments and orientations to life.

To me personally, it seems self-evident that all Buddhists, whether in the capacity of individuals, groups, schools or organisations, should co-operate in the work of transforming this world into a Pure Land, creating conditions where all may be enlightened; where war may cease; where the enslaved, the oppressed, the poor, the dispossessed, the wounded and the up-rooted may find peace and replenishment; and where compassion may prevail. This would seem to be the obviously right course, whether the goal of a Pureland on earth is actually attainable or not. It would seem to be the natural outflow of the right state of mind, and, even for those who believe the situation is hopeless, what other honourable course could there be?

Such co-operation can take place in principle at different levels. There is the level of individuals meeting one another. There is the local level, the national level and the international level. There is also the possibility of leaders of Buddhist Schools meeting one another – should this not be a matter of course? One might ask, however, how common it actually is in practice. Perhaps the local and the international levels are the most important. The local because it can yield tangible results fairly speedily. Amida groups have, therefore, played an important role on numerous occasions in facilitating local initiatives that bring diverse groups together and the results are often deeply moving.

The international level is also important. A Pure Land, one might reasonably assume, will be free of nationalism. Buddhism has the capacity to facilitate a shift in human consciousness toward the forgetting of nationalist allegiance. In fact, if one thinks of Buddhism as a path to freedom from delusion, and if one considers that the most potent delusions are either social ones like nationalism, racial prejudice, and the pursuit of status and power for their own sake, or they are one's whose perniciousness becomes apparent in their social effects, like addiction, greed, hatred and egotism, then one has to conclude that Buddhist cultivation should be evident in social effects.

It is not enough to cultivate inner spiritual nature and expect the world to right itself of its own accord. We must also work to effect beneficial change in society. Both inner and outer reality must be completely transformed. Buddhism in general and Pureland in particular must therefore involve struggle to create compassionate educational structures and practices, compassionate economic arrangements, compassionate social structures, and compassionate political initiatives. Social life is a matrix of rituals, some kind and some cruel. Buddhists do not believe in ritual as magic – in fact the Buddha expressly specified such belief as a major obstacle to enlightenment – but we are masters of ritual as skilful means. When Buddha dressed his followers in conspicuous orange robes and sent them out for the welfare of the many, he was starting something that had massive social impact.

Little Pure Lands and the Big One

We all try to make little Pure Lands. We decorate our living space in order to make it attractive. We create conducive living environments. Sometimes these owe more to narcissism than to altruism, but at the bottom there is a desire in all of us to create and share an environment that is conducive to good in whatever way we conceive it.

As Buddhists, in particular, we live in Buddhist communities or go on retreats to them. We take advantage of these miniature Pure Lands in order to restore calm in our lives or to train ourselves – to overcome self-centredness and allow the common passions to mature as higher wisdom. All Buddhist schools create such miniature Pure Lands. It might, in fact, make more sense to think about Buddhism as consisting of such environments rather than as consisting of the persons that pass through them. If we value and take refuge in the little Pure Lands and if we nurture and care for them, believing in them and dedicating effective constructive energy to them, we will do something that will be for the benefit of many sentient beings for a very long time.

Nor need we think that our efforts in this direction have to be exclusive. There is no benefit in them being so in anything other than the very short run. Chinese Buddhists talk about four over-arching virtues. These are generosity, affability, altruism and co-operation. If we take it that the pre-eminent virtues of Pureland are faith and gratitude, I think we can also see that those four are the natural expression of these two. We can reach out with the arms of Quan Yin to other Buddhist groups, to other faith groups, to other people working for good in society, to others who are in need. The big Pure Land will grow out of the joining up of the little ones, just as complicated animals evolved out of colonies of cells (germs) that gradually learnt the advantages of symbiosis.

East and West

The contemporary Buddhist renaissance has sprung up out of the encounter between Eastern and Western civilisation in the last one hundred years. Buddhism has something very special to offer to the world, not only because of its tradition of universal compassion and wisdom that could be the key to lasting peace on our planet, but also because of its capacity to respond positively to this situation of culture shock. Buddhism has the capacity to adapt and change without losing its basic function of liberating us from attachment to what is merely transitory.

The Buddhist teaching of non-self directly implies open-mindedness and adaptability. In Pureland, the non-self teaching is taken as being not so much a reflection upon the "empty" nature of self as an injunction to seriously encounter what is other. Pureland, therefore, asks us to make a detailed enquiry into "otherness" and the reality of what is alien, different or even shocking. This enquiry lays bare our dependency. There is no aspect of us that is not derived from non-self elements. Others, in the broadest sense of this term, from the air that enters our lungs, to the friends that befriend us, to the food that nourishes, to the blood that circulates in us, and even to the snake that bites us - others have immense power in one's life: so much so in fact that it is hardly sensible to speak of one's own life at all.

Really there is no Eastern Buddhism or Western Buddhism. To be Buddhist is to be beyond both, but not in the sense that they disappear into a mystical oneness, "the beyond", where nothing happens, so much as in the sense that encounters multiply endlessly and every one is fresh and new. The affective consequences of such a stock-taking are gratitude, humility and faith.

The Way Ahead

We need to start seeing Buddhism as a vehicle. I do not think that we need to spend much time on debates about where the Pure Land is. Insofar as we are Purelanders we will be loyal to the Pureland vision. We will create little Purelands wherever we are. We may feel ourselves to be exiles from out "true home" but we will be working to create a little bit of that home wherever we are. To do this we will need to work together. We will also find that there are many others who have visions that are not so very different. What we will come up against, however, is the great difficulty that many people have in
  1. acting on their vision and
  2. overcoming their attachment to self enough to co-operate with others.
This is where faith and courage play a major part.

The dream I have is of a world in which people live in harmony with one another appreciating diversity and constantly working to improve their ability to co-operate and become a versatile team. Such people will gather together frequently and listen deeply to one another, getting to understand the struggles of one another and learning how to work as cells of one organism, each offering something different, and working those different contributions into a single whole.

Such communities can form a base from which people can go out into the wider world to help others in many different ways. They will "go forth" in twos or threes or small groups. They will experience many things in their work. They will go out not just as helpers, but also as friends and as learners. They will come back enriched by their experience and share those riches with other members of the community, many of whom will have also been out on other parallel but quite different missions. In this way an extremely rich culture will develop, all revolving around the bodhisattva ideal and the Pureland vision.

People can participate in this emergent Pure Land to whatever extent is possible for them. Some have more commitments than others. As the new world grows it will be able to accommodate a greater and greater diversity of people and needs. Pioneers always have to give up more. But then they also have the satisfaction of working at the cutting edge.

As East meets West a Buddhist renaissance is taking place and the Pureland vision is bound to be at the core of it. The world needs this vision and it therefore needs the people who will take it to heart and embody it by their collective solidarity and faith.

Namo Amida Bu

References
Pittman, D. 2001. Toward a Modern Chinese Buddhism: Taixu's Reforms. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press
Popper, K. 1998. The World of Parmenides: Essays on the Pre-Socratic Enlightenment. Edited by A.F.Petersen. London: Routledge

Dh.D.J.Brazier
21 June, 2003