Zen at War

A few years ago, 2 distressing books entitled "Zen at War" and "Zen War Stories" were published by Brian Victoria about the attitude of the Zen Establishment right before and during World War II in Japan. During this difficult period, a number of Zen Masters gave their support to the Japanese Imperial Army. This was very unfortunate, but they were very likely unaware of the atrocities committed in Korea, China and other Asian countries by the Japanese forces. (Are we really aware of what is going on in Pakistan or Afghanistan ?)

Apparently and according to various authors, Victoria tried to strengthen his case by distorting the words of a number of prominent Zen teachers. Among those are Kodo Sawaki, teacher of Taisen Desshimaru and Gudo Nishijima - and D.T. Suzuki who first translated in English the Lankavatara Sutra - among others - Excusez-moi du peu ! Quotations from these masters were mistranslated and taken out of contest to make them seem like war-mongers when this was quite the opposite.

I suggest you read this article and decide for yourself. 

I don’t know Japanese so I can’t judge of the validity of the arguments on the translations. However, I have been practising Japanese Martial Arts for a few years and I would like to add some wood to the fire of discussion. So here we go :

Zen does not preach the gospel of mercy, in fact Zen does not preach anything at all. Zen is practice.

The connection between Zen and Martial Arts dates from the beginnings of Zen in Japan – i.e. the 13th century when the Mongols of Kubilai Khan twice tried to invade (in 1274 and 1281). These were difficult times for Japanese society.
 

If you want to understand more about the connection between Zen and Martial Arts, I suggest you read Trevor Legett’s "Zen and the Ways” and “The Warriors Koans”, Taisen Desshimaru (another disciple of Kodo Sawaki Roshi) – “Zen and Martial Arts”, Yamaoka Tesshu’s “The sword of no-sword”, or Omory Sogen’s “Introduction to Zen training”. These are all books by men of great accomplishment in Zen and/or Traditional Japanese Martial or other Arts. 

The same sword and swordsman kills and gives life – no distinction. This is not a deep philosophical thing. If you see someone ready to hurt some innocent person, you slice them, your sword killed one person, and gave life to the other person. It is that simple. If you believe otherwise, you are mistaken. You might not be able to do it, but do not blame Buddhism or Zen for that. It is just that you were not able to do it.

There is no shame if you did nothing because you did not know how to handle a sword. No need to be killed yourself. However, if you are fluent in Martial Arts and are not able to use them when necessary, or if you use them too easily when you should not, you have a problem, and society has a problem. 

This is where Zen can help.

 

Yagyu Munenori was chief martial art instructor to the first and second Tokugawa shogun. (Early 17th century). Only once in his life did he draw his sword when a small group of rebels tried to assassinate the Shogun. Munenori, who was himself a disciple of Takuan Soho - sliced them down.
 

In his book “Heiho Kandesho” translated by Scott Wilson as “the Life-giving sword” Munenori clearly explains the identity of the life giving and the killing sword.

Things are not complicated. To become fluent at anything, you need to practice. It is true of Zen, it is true of Martial Arts. You need to practice Zazen, you need to practice Kendo or Calligraphy. If you don’t practice, you are wasting your time. 

And here I am, writing...

ANNALS OF THE SWORD TAIA

The full text of Zen Master Takuan's letter is included in "The Unfettered Mind" a translation by William Scott Wilson of 3 texts about swordsmanship by Takuan.

In this post I only provide the Translation of the Chinese part of the text, without the Japanese commentaries of Takuan. I encourage you to read and consider them, then refer to Takuan's comments in the full version to reach a better understanding of this letter. 

       Presumably, as a martial artist, I do not fight for gain or loss, am not concerned with strength or weakness, and neither advance a step nor retreat a step. The enemy does not see me. I do not see the enemy. Penetrating to a place where heaven and earth have not yet divided, where Ying and Yang have not yet arrived, I quickly and necessarily gain effect.

     Well then, the accomplished man uses the sword but does not kill others. He uses the sword and gives others life. When it is necessary to kill, he kills. When it is necessary to give life, he gives life. When killing, he kills in complete concentration; when giving life, he gives life in complete concentration. Without looking at right and wrong, he is able to see right and wrong; without attempting to discriminate, he is able to discriminate well. Treading on water is just like treading on land, and treading on land is just like treading on water. If he is able to gain this freedom, he will not be perplexed by anyone on earth. In all things, he will be beyond companions.

      Do you want to obtain this? Walking, stopping, sitting or lying down, in speaking and in remaining quiet, during tea and during rice, you must never neglect exertion, you must quickly set your eye on the goal, and investigate thoroughly, both coming and going. Thus should you look straight into things. As months pile up and years pass by, it should seem like a light appearing on its own in the dark. You will receive wisdom without a teacher and will generate mysterious ability without trying to do so. At just such a time, this does not depart from the ordinary, yet it transcends it. By name, I call it "Taia."

      All men are equipped with this sharp Sword Taia, and in each one it is perfectly complete. Those for whom this is clear are feared even by the Maras, but those for whom this is obscure are deceived even by the heretics. On the one hand, when two of equal skill meet at swords' point, there is no conclusion to the match; it is like Shakyamuni's holding the flower and Kashyapa's subtle smile. On the other hand, raising the one and understanding the other three, or distinguishing subtle differences in weight with the unaided eye are examples of ordinary cleverness. If anyone has mastered this, he will quickly cut you into three pieces even before the one has been raised and the three understood. How much more so where you meet him face to face?

     In the end, a man like this never exposes the tip of his sword. Its speed - even lightning cannot keep up with it. Its brevity - it is gone even before the quick wind of the storm. Not having such a tactic, if one, in the end, becomes entangled or confused, he will damage his own blade or injure his own hand, and will fall short of adroitness. One does not divine this by impressions or knowledge. There is no transmitting it by words or speech, no learning it by any doctrine. This is the law of the special transmission beyond instruction.

     There is no established rule for manifesting this great ability. Orderly action, contrary action - even heaven does not determine this. So what is the nature of this thing? The ancients said, "When a house does not have a painting of a Pai Che, it is like having no ghosts at all." If a man has tempered himself and arrived at this principle, he will control everything under heaven with a single sword.

For those who study this, let them not be thoughtless.

Notes :

• Takuan Soho was a Zen monk, calligrapher, painter, poet, gardener, tea master, and, perhaps, inventor of the pickle that even today retains his name. His writings were prodigious (the collected works fill six volumes), and are a source of guidance and inspiration to the Japanese people today, as they have been for three and a half centuries.
• Born in 1573 into a samurai family of the Miura clan, Takuan entered a monastery at the age of ten to study Jodo Buddhism, moving on to Rinzai Zen at the age of twenty-four. He becamethe abbot of the Daitokuji, a major Zen temple in Kyoto, at the young age of thirty-five.
• At the court of the Tokugawa Shogun, Takuan was in frequent contact with Yagyu Munenori of the Yagyu Shinkage Ryu, and Ono Tadaaki, second Grand Master of Ono Ha Itto Ryu. Both Munenori and Tadaaki were official sword instructors of the Shogun's family and his close retainers. Legend has it that Takuan was also the friend and teacher of the famous Miyamoto Musashi. (See the story of the Takuan, Musashi and the Snake)
• In his writings, Takuan emphasizes the unity of Zen and Sword, (Zen Ken Ichi Nyo), which deeply influenced the Great Masters of the time and produced a number of documents which continue to be read and applied, such as the Heiho Kadensho of Yagyu Munenori and the Gorin no Sho of Miyamoto Musashi.
• His letter Taiaki, "Annals of the Sword Taia," was written during his exile in the North between 1629 to 1632, possibly to Ono Tadaaki, Taiaki mostly is about the relationship between one's self and the other.

Taia was one of China's legendary swords. It was forged by the famous sword-smith Ou Yezi for King Zhao of Chu (r.515-489 B.C.)

The Pai Che is a legendary animal with a cow's body and a man's head. It eats dreams and misfortunes. In ancient China people they would display a picture of a Pai Che at the entrance of their house to ward off evil spirits.

Zen and the Samurai : Yamaoka Tesshu

Yamaoka Tesshu was born in Edo (modern day Tokyo) in 1836. Tesshu was born into a samurai family. Tesshu practiced kendo from the age of nine, starting in the Shinkage Ryu Tradition. Later his family moved to Takayama where he studied Ono Ha Itto-Ryu.

When he was twenty-eight, Tesshu was defeated by a swordsman named Asari Gimei and became his student. Although larger and younger, Tesshu could not match his teacher’s mental state. During training sessions, Asari was known to force Tesshu all the way to the back of the dojo, then out into the street, knock him to the ground, and then slam the dojo door in his face. Confronted with this challenge, Tesshu increased his efforts in training and meditation continuously. 


Even when he was eating or sleeping, Tesshu was constantly thinking about fencing. He would sometimes wake up at night, jump out of bed, and get his wife to hold a sword so he could explore a new insight. Then, one morning in 1880, when he was 45 years old, Tesshu attained enlightenment while sitting in zazen.

Later that morning he went to the dojo to practice Kendo with Asari. Upon seeing Tesshu, Asari recognized at once that Tesshu had reached enlightenment. Asari, declined to fence with Tesshu, acknowledging Tesshu’s attainment by saying, “You have arrived.” 
  
Shortly after this, Tesshu went on to open his own school of fencing he named Mu To Ryu (Literally the School of No Sword).


Tesshu's Life is described by John Stevens in a beautiful book : The Sword of no Sword.