By Rev. Ken Yamada
What does Jodo Shinshu say about standing up to oppression and violence? With a war in Ukraine, conflicts in our own country and turmoil worldwide, that’s an important question.
Believe it or not, there was a period in history when Jodo Shinshu Buddhists fought government soldiers, refused to pay taxes and rioted for social justice, using the words “Namu Amida Butsu” almost as a battle cry.
Beginning in the 15th Century and continuing into the 16th Century, during the so-called “Warring Period” in Japan, when war lords and samurai armies battled over land and power, heavy taxes were levied on farmers, peasants and others to fund wars, causing great suffering and hardship among the people. Galvanized by the Pure Land teachings—which gave people a strong sense of self-worth and equality, despite an oppressive class system at the time—commoners rose in revolt against provincial governors and land stewards in what came to be known as the “Ikko ikki” riots. “Ikko ikki” means “people of one faith,” referring to the sole practice of the Nembutsu.
The “Ikko ikki” riots caused such a crisis that Rennyo Shonin, who is revered as the “second founder of Jodo Shinshu,” admonished followers to obey local laws. In a letter to followers, he wrote that Shinran Shonin “carefully stipulated that we should observe the principles of humanity, justice, propriety, wisdom and sincerity; that we should honor the laws of the state; and that deep within, we should take Other Power faith established by the Primal Vow as fundamental.”
However, sporadic rioting and resistance continued over the years, which contributed to the decision in 1602 by military leader Tokugawa Ieyasu to split the Honganji temple into two organizations, Higashi (East) and Nishi (West).
The influence of Jodo Shinshu in wartime once again came into play during the 1930s and 1940s, when Japan’s imperial government pursued a policy of military aggression into neighboring countries, eventually entering World War II. With nationalistic fervor, certain Jodo Shinshu priests encouraged soldiers to go to war by twisting Shinran’s teachings and telling them that death on the battlefield ensured birth in the Pure Land.
At the start of World War II in the United States, the government viewed Buddhist temples with suspicion and incarcerated the vast majority of Japanese Americans. Imprisoned, they continued to follow their Buddhist traditions with makeshift altars.
In 1987, Higashi Honganji issued a public apology for its wartime behavior: “As we recall the war years, it was our sect that called the war a ‘sacred war.’ It was we who said, ‘The heroic spirits (of the war dead) who have been enshrined in the Yasukuni Shrine have served the great undertaking of guarding the imperial throne. They should therefore be revered for having done the great work of a bodhisattva.’ This was an expression of deep ignorance and shamelessness on our part… Those who participate in war are both victims and victimizers. In light of the great sin we have committed, we must not pass it by as being nothing more than a mistake. The sect declared that we should revere things that were never taught by Shinran Shonin. When we who are priests think about this sin, we can only hang our heads in silence before all who are gathered here.”
A few years later, Nishi Honganji issued a similar statement: “We ended up cooperating with the war and losing sight of the true nature of this sect. This can also be seen in the doctrinal sphere, where the sect’s teaching of the existence of relative truth and absolute truth was put to cunning use.” (Source: “Zen at War,” by Brian Victoria, Weatherhill, New York, 1997)
Eight hundred years ago, Shinran Shonin thought deeply about the nature of good and evil. Realizing that our minds are constantly clouded by ignorance and selfishness, it is difficult to truly know the truth. In a letter, he wrote, “Each of you should attain your birth without being misled by people and without faltering in shinjin. However, the practicer in whom shinjin has not become settled will continue to drift, even without being misled by anyone, for he does not abide among the truly settled.”
Some Buddhist teachers outright have come out with guidance on social problems, although such statements remain doctrinally controversial. For instance, Zen priest Noriaki Hakamaya stated in 1990, “It is clear that through faith one becomes a true Buddhist. Should there be an occasion when the Law of the Sovereign and the Law of the Buddha come into conflict, then… the Law of the Buddha should be chosen. One must never allow oneself to be reduced to a mere physical entity. Instead, the intellect must be used to its utmost to clearly distinguish what is right and words used to their utmost to criticize what is wrong. I believe this is the way in which faith becomes an activity opposed to war.”
Both Shinran and the Buddha understood how our lives are interconnected with innumerable causes and conditions, which may or may not compel us to act in certain ways. The Buddha preached “ahimsa,” nonviolence. Subsequently, Buddhists actively opposed war in nonviolent and sometimes extreme ways. In Tibet and Vietnam, for example, Buddhist priests and nuns sacrificed their lives through self-immolation in the name of social justice and freedom. In Myanmar, Buddhist priests staged demonstrations against government oppression. Legions of others have prayed and meditated for social change.
Shinran found guidance in the Meditation Sutra, in which Ajatasatru, after committing horrific crimes, eventually comes to see his evil nature. For Shinran, the seeds of spiritual awakening lay in this recognition. One’s life isn’t the result of one’s calculations and selfish actions, but rather, by something far greater—the innumerable interconnected causes, conditions, and effects that create our lives. Ignorance of this truth, results in an opposing and destructive perception that separates oneself from others, driven by ego, selfishness and calculated actions.
According to Shinran, “Our desires are countless, and anger, wrath, jealously, and envy are overwhelming, arising without pause; to the very last moment of life they do not cease, or disappear, or exhaust themselves.”
Dennis Hirota wrote in his essay, “Violence and Nonviolence in Shinran,” that violence and other aggressive acts surface “from ‘afflicting passions’ (bonno) of ego-attachment and deepens one’s entanglement in samsaric existence… They are rooted in forms of violence directed toward self-magnification and division from others.” He also writes, “Consequently, for Shinran, mental acts are the primary form of violence.”
If mental acts are included as violence, aren’t we all guilty? Whom among us haven’t thought ill of others? The most extreme manifestation of discriminatory and ego-centered thinking is physical violence.
In a letter, Shinran wrote, “Human beings are such that, maddened by the passions of greed, we desire to possess; maddened by the passions of anger, we hate that which should not be hated, seeking to go against the law of cause and effect; led astray by the passions of ignorance, we do what should not even be thought.”
In the Tannisho, Shinran offered advice related to sectarian attacks and religious persecution, but his words ring true today. When challenged, he said: “If one responds without rancor thus, what person will do one harm? An authoritative passage states, “Where arguments take place, blind passions arise. The wise keep their distance.”
Hirota writes: “We see here the nonviolent, nonconfrontational response that Shinran speaks of, acting out of the egalitarian thrust of the Pure Land path to dissolve barriers and neutralize enmity rather than establishing division between self and other.”
Higashi Honganji teacher Daiei Kaneko wrote in A Thinking Person’s Guide to Shin Buddhism: “Morality may set the standard for right and wrong, but most of the time it comes down to a sense of ‘I am right, you are wrong.’ This makes us quick to scathingly denounce others for petty misdeeds while pleading mercy for our own crimes. Consequently, our struggle to subjugate evil becomes a struggle between self and other.”
Manshi Kiyozawa’s Seishinshugi movement took a different view of Buddhism’s teaching of “Two Truths.” Originally it meant worldly or “conventional truth” versus religious or “ultimate truth.” In light of the tumultuous times, the Two Truths became a discussion of social or “political” truth versus one’s personal or “religious” truth.
This discussion was important and urgent during Kiyozawa’s time—the Japanese government applied increasing pressure on the populace to support its agenda of colonialism and militarism, and demanded unquestioned obedience to the emperor, which rekindled an age-old question of which holds sway—the state or one’s religious beliefs. Meanwhile, Japan launched a war with China beginning in 1894, sangha members were conscripted by the military, and Jodo Shinshu priests established overseas missions, which aided colonization efforts.
Questions arose: Should the temple support the imperial edict sending young men to fight? Should chaplains go to support them? What should be the response to government policies that appear morally wrong or that harm the sangha? Kiyozawa tackled this debate head on, arguing one’s personal spirituality came first and foremost.
I once heard a story about an African American woman who was asked how she gained the courage to stand up for civil rights in the face of threats and intimidation. “My religious faith gives me strength,” she said. “Doesn’t yours?”
Can Buddhists make the same claim? The image of Buddhists, especially in Jodo Shinshu, is one of humbleness, quietude and self-reflection, attributes that seemingly make us passive and aloof. Does Jodo Shinshu give us strength to stand up for peace? As history has shown, I think the answer is a resounding “Yes.”
-Rev. Yamada is editor of Higashi Honganji Shinshu Center of America