Friday, January 31, 2014

Buddhist Soteriological Exclusivism


Apologies for not providing any source for this entry because it is just for collecting my thoughts. I have been interested in the idea of “soteriological exclusivism” in Buddhism for quite sometime and have discussed in some detail elsewhere. So I may not repeat it here. A careful, comprehensive, and systematic treatment of the theme is still wanting. By “soteriological exclusivism” (in the Buddhist context), I mean a kind of theory or doctrine according which one cannot obtain release from saṃsāra   (and obtain Arhatship or Buddhahood) without realizing the true reality of some kind or without realizing it to a minimum required degree (Wangchuk 2007; RZ1: on thabs shes; gNubs-chen, bSam gtan mig sgron, p 259: thabs dang shes rab ma rogs pas || ma grol khams gsum ’khor ba yin || [citing the rGyad bcu pa]). This is, actually, quite a significant, complex, and knotty issue. We will have to leave up to the scholars specializing in Theravāda or Sino-Japanese Buddhism to inform us regarding the issue of “soteriological exclusivism” in these traditions. My study concerns primarily ideas of “soteriological exclusivism” found in Indian sources and their interpretations by various schools of Tibetan Buddhism.

(a) To be sure, the issue is naturally pertinent to only those Buddhist doctrines or theories that deal with soteriology. Most Buddhist traditions would perhaps agree that Buddhism also teaches ways of obtaining a fortunate destiny in saṃsāra. In other words, Buddhism is not all, though primarily, about obtaining Arhatship and Buddhahood. I argue, however, that Buddhism, like perhaps all major world religions, is unique because of its unique soteriology. A form of Buddhism that has no soteriology would be no Buddhism at all.

(b) Here comes the first difficulty. Historically speaking, Buddhist tradition eventually split up into eighteen (or more) Nikāyic schools. Are all these schools authentic? Importantly, this question is tantamount to the question as to whether one can, by following any one of these eighteen or more Nikāyic schools, obtain at least Arhatship. How do various Tibetan Buddhist scholars answer this question? This is the first venue for exploration. While most Tibetan scholars world not even doubt the Buddhist status of most of these schools, the ability of the doctrine of Vātsīputrīya school to lead one to Arhatship becomes an issue. How do the various Tibetan scholars view this issue? This is fascinating.

(c) Fundamentally in the Madhyamaka context, as I already suggest elsewhere, Tibetan positions seem to fall into two distinct camps: (1) one that follows either-everything-or-nothing kind of interpretation, and (2) each-according-to-his/her-capacity kind of interpretation. The former is represented mainly by the anti-Yogācāric interpreters of Madhyamaka (e.g. dGe-lugs-pas) and the latter by the pro-Yogācāric interpreters of Madhyamaka (e.g. non-dGe-lugs-pas). Each group has its own arguments. The issue now comes to be differentiated. The issue is no longer whether a Buddhist system is capable of leading one to the soteriological goal but rather whether that system is “independently” able to lead one to the soteriological goal. For the former camp, the only system that is “independently” able to lead one to the soteriological goal is the Prāsaṅgika-Madhyamaka school.

(d) The next significant issue is how (or in what respects) is Mantric Mahāyāna superior to Sūtric Mahāyāna and whether the latter form of Mahāyāna is capable of leading one to the Mahāyānic soteriological goal, namely, the Buddhahood. The rNying-pa-pas are divided on this. According to one strand (i.e. Zur-lugs), the answer is in the negative. According another strand (i.e. Rong-lugs), the answer is in the affirmative. But even the Rong-lugs (RZ1: 202) proposes a kind of soteriological exclusivism, that is, there is no way of becoming a buddha without realizing the great reality of equality or homogeneity (mnyam pa chen po’i don). Is this also taught by the Sūtric Mahāyāna? If so, how and why should Mantric Mahāyāna excel Sūtric Mahāyāna? If not, it would be impossible for one to attain Buddhahood by following the Sūtric Mahāyāna. These are yet some additional venues for exploration.

(e) For most Sa-skya-pas and dGe-lugs-pas, Mantric views does not excel Sūtric (Madhyamic) view. This is usually the position in a Sūtric context. But in a Mantric context, the issue becomes complicated. How about Sa-skya-pa’s ’khor ’das dbyer med kyi lta ba? Is this view identical with Sūtric (Madhyamic) view? For the dGe-lugs-pa, there is yet another issue. Is Sūtric Mahāyāna able to bring about saṃbhogakāya? If not, Sūtric Mahāyāna is after all not adequate in bringing about the full qualities of a buddha, and one must rely on the sexual yogic initiation offered by only the highest Yoga system.  

(f) Last but not the least, there is yet another venue for exploration. Almost every Tibetan Buddhist school would associate itself with what it believes is its highest doctrine. Perhaps one might subsume all these highest doctrines into the “Three Great Ones” (Chen-po-gsum), namely, dBu-ma-chen-po, Phyag-rgya-chen-po, and rDzogs-pa-chen-po. The most fascinating issue here is how the proponents of each of these Three Great Ones view the Great Ones of other competing schools. The elements of soteriological exclusivism among Tibetan Buddhist schools become very conspicuous in such contexts. For example, from a radical dGe-lugs-pa perspective, gZhan-stong-dbu-ma-chen-po falls outside the domain of the Buddha’s doctrine.




Tuesday, January 28, 2014

A Buddhist Theory of Anamnesis?

One may say it is needless and reckless to bring up etic words such as Greek anamnēsis (“remembrance”) to theorize emic Buddhist concepts. It maybe, but as a Buddhist theorist or a theoretician rather than a practician (by the way, this word is attested), I succumb to my temptation to do so. I believe, I have my personal reasons for doing so. Whatever and whenever I write or express anything abstract or philosophical, I can only try to do so in my acquired language, and never in my mother tongue. (My mother tongue, by the way, is not Tibetan or rDzong-kha. People who speak the language call their own language Tshangs-lha. There is no Tshang-lha script and Tshang-lha-medium schools.) Some would pity me. Oh, how sad, it must be terrible not to be able to express thoughts or things in his one’s own mother tongue! I have certainly disadvantages but never feel disadvantaged. If I knew and if I could, I would have learnt any language that I believe could help me express complex ideas in a possibly precise, nuanced, and pregnant manner. So long as I believe that a term can best capture or express a Buddhist idea, I would not, as a principle, refrain from using any word, be it etic or emic. Of course, care should be taken to avoid using terms that bring along wrong connotations and associations, which, I believe can be precluded by clearly defining the terms that one uses. In the end, terms and languages are mere conventions, and are like the proverbial finger that points to the moon.

I learn that the term “anamnesis” is used in Christianity, philosophy, and medicine, and in each case it seems to have a distinct meaning or usage. Now I propose to use it in the Buddhist philosophical context. For doing this, I will take its literal meaning “remembrance” as the point of departure. By “Buddhist anamnesis,” I wish to express the Buddhist idea of anusmṛti (rjes su dran pa) of which there seems to several kinds (usually six) and the idea of dhāraṇī. A proper understanding of the history and philosophy of anusmṛti and dhāraṇī might—and just might—help us to understand not only a piece of the history of Buddhism itself but also about a piece of the philosophy of Buddhism. I do not wish to delve into the role of the idea of buddhānusmṛti in the development of Buddhism, which I, believe is, more known. The role of the idea of vidyā (“cognitive formula”), mantra (“protective formula”) and dhāraṇī (“recollective formula”) is also being increasingly recognized.

What is perhaps hardly known is the idea that the dhāraṇīs (like the bodhisattvabhūmis and pāramitās) are also regarded as the “great mothers” or “great feminine consorts” (yum chen mo) of buddhas (RZ2: 492): “These are yum (i.e. “mothers” and “female consorts”) because they procreate buddhas and engage [in/with them]” (de nyid sangs rgyas rnams bskyed pa dang spyod pas yum mo). Buddhists may often be confounded to see or know that Mahāyāna Buddhism, be it in its Mantric or non-Mantric form, is riddled (or some might even think “infested”) with depictions of all kinds of male and female deities; some that look pleasing and pacifying whereas others that appear unpleasing and terrifying. We cannot deny this fact. But how do we explain these phenomena? Proposing them to be historical figures like the historical Buddha himself would be as ludicrous as denying them together as foreign elements that complacent Mahāyānists incorporated into Buddhism and hence as having nothing to do Buddhism at all. I personally believe that we—again regardless of whether we see such developments as desirable or as aberration (Fehlentwicklung)—could offer a historically plausible explanation. For example, it would be difficult, if not impossible to defend that a historical person Mañjuśrī and Mahākāla lived in a certain period and in a certain place. In what place and in what century should they have lived (if they lived)? Were they Indians, Tibetans, Chinese, or Central Asians? The idea of Mañjuśrī, for example, I think, can certainly be traced. This is not just a position of a hypercritical and hypocritical (and what some might think self-serving) academician. I recall mKhan-po ’Jigs-med-phun-tshogs once telling us: “If you think Mañjuśrī is a person eternally holding a sword and utpala, you have missed the point.” Mañjuśrī is to be understood, so to speak, as an icon, a representation or crystallization, or, an iconic figure that stands for the embodiment of the insights (or cognitive aspects) of all buddhas and bodhisattvas (or if you will simply all beings).

Thus far I have believed that only the “perfection of insight” (prajñāpāramitā: shes rab kyi pha rol tu phyi pa) has been depicted as the “Great Mother” (Yum-chen-mo). But all ten pāramitās and bhūmis, a host of other feminine nouns which express central Mahāyāna concepts have been considered as “great mothers” and as “goddesses” (RZ2: 491–492). What seems to be desideratum, in my view, is to take all possible items/topics/categories (and subcategories) found in the Abhidharmic literature and see how these very items have been described in Prajñāpāmitā literature and then study how and with what/which (female or male) deity each item has been identified. As far as I can see, the five Tathāgatas, the eight Bodhisattvas, and all the female and male deities we see in Mantric literature are explained as the pure nature or purity of a particular phenomenon included in the phenomena of ground (gzhi)—five skandhas, twelve āyatanas, eighteen dhātus—and of the path (lam) including 37 bodhyaṅgas. I don’t know if this theory has ever been proposed by anyone thus far but I speculate that grammatical gender of a word that expresses a certain topic could have opened up the possibility for the eventual personification and deitification of all phenomena. Rong-zom-pa  (RZ2: 491–492) seems to suggest that one of the reasons why most of the phenomena have been considered “goddesses” (lha mo) and “mothers or consorts” (yum) is their female grammatical gender (mo’i rtags). The fact the upāya is grammatically masculine seems to have provided a possibility for one to call it “father” (and not “mother”) and the feminine grammatical gender of prajñā seems to have provided one with a possibility to call it “mother” (and not “father”). One feels that in a language where there is no grammatical gender, such a creative development would not have taken place, at least not so conveniently or readily. The grammatical gender or sex by itself and already seems to imply personification. That is, grammatically, prajñāpāramitā can only be a “she,” which is de facto a “female person.” It is said that one cannot become a buddha without prajñāpāramitā; prajñāpāramitā is said to procreate a buddha and thus she is said to be a “mother.” She is an extraordinary “mother” who procreates supernal awakened beings. The elements of femininity and divinity seem to merge into one in this way. So we see Prajñāpāramitā depicted as a female deity. No one, not even the tradition, would take the deity Prajñāpāramitā as a historical person allocable to a certain time and place. And this, in my view, is crucial for understanding the entire of world of Sūtric and Mantric Buddhism filled with various types of deities.

Now returning to “Buddhist Anamnesis,” some of the key terms and concepts that need to be explored are of anusmṛti (rjes su dran pa) and smṛti (dran pa). The six anusmtis as recorded, for example, in the Mahāvyutpatti, are buddhānusmti, dharmānusmti, saghānusmti, śīlānusmti, tyāgānusmti, and devatānusmti. Instead of śīlānusmti, Rong-zom-pa has ānāpānānusmti (Wangchuk 2007: 302). “Not forgetting bodhicitta (bodhicittāsapramoa), too, is important. From a viewpoint of axiology and epistemology, I think that although “recollection” or “remembrance” would be seen as instrumentally valid and valuable, but epistemically be considered invalid. That is, dran pa cannot be a tshad ma and it is not a tshad ma! From a viewpoint of psychology, dran pa would essentially be considered a wholesome mental factor (kuśala: dge ba), and depending on the stage of its development, it would it is one of the five faculties (dbang po lha) or five kinds of strength (stobs lnga). It can be defiled (zag pa dang bcas pa) as in my case or undefiled in the case of a bodhisattva on the second bhūmi, for instance. From a standpoint of ontology, how far can dran pa subsist? According to those who maintain that a buddha is nothing but purified dharmadhātu, dran pa, which is a cognitive element, would cease when its cause and conditions ultimately cease at the stage of a buddha.

As for dhāraṇī (gzungs or gzungs ma), we can find the concept of it in both Sūtric and Mantric forms of Buddhism. It may be translated as “mnemonic formula.” In contrast to mantra—which may be rendered as “magical formula” or perhaps better as “protective formula,” particularly considering its speculative etymology shes skyob “that which protects the mind”—and vidyā (rig sngags or rig ma), which may be translated as “cognitive formula,” dhāraṇī is a “recollective formula” or “retentive formula.” Just as a mathematical or chemical formula captures, encapsulates, expresses, and retains a great deal of information in just a few letters or numbers, so does dhāraṇī seems to be conceived of as a formula that captures, encapsulates, expresses, and retains a great deal of information about Buddhist theories and practice. One can easily understand how and why it can be maintained to carry out to play the role of the Buddha or a buddha and his activities in the world. In a way, it is as though dhāraṇī were a kind of chip or “memory card” that conserves, preserves, and reserves crucial information about the Buddhist doctrine for the present and future generations. Just as a mathematical or chemical formula might appear to a lay person nonsensical, gibberish, or, unintelligible, if we do not understand its nature, function, history, and philosophy, dhāraṇī might appear to be nonsensical, gibberish, or, unintelligible. But worth bearing in mind is not everything that appears to be hocus-pocus must necessarily be hocus-pocus. Again we may not believe in the actual efficacy of dhāraṇī but the question that we have to ask is whether we really understand the idea of/behind dhāraṇī.

In Mantric Buddhism, dhāraṇī came to be called a “Great Mother” (yum chen mo), “a goddess” (lha mo), or “a female consort” (yum or gzungs ma). It is perhaps only too apt to identify and personify dhāraṇī as a female principle or female person. With all due respect to the “male principles” and “male persons” (and with all possible exceptions), one does seem to get an impression in real life that “female elements/persons” tend to be more “protective,” “retentive,” and “attentive” of whatever or whoever is entrusted to them. In this connection, I find the idea of entrusting (a Tantric scripture) to a woman (bud med la yongs su gtad pa) seems to be very interesting. If I were Vajradhara and if I had a choice to entrust my tantra to a man or a woman, I, too, would chose to entrust it to the latter. Fellow men, I mean no offence to you! There would be no guarantee, of course, but the chances that my tantra will be protected and thus survives a little longer is perhaps a bit greater!