
Excerpted From a speech by Daiskau Ikeda: Mahayana Buddhism and Twenty-first-Century Civilization--Harvard University, US, 1993
"Premised on the above, I would like to discuss three specific areas in which I feel the outlook and approach of Mahayana Buddhism can contribute to the civilization of the twenty-first century.
The first is as a driving force for the creation of a peaceful society.
Since its inception, the philosophy of Buddhism has been associated with peace and pacifism. This derives principally, I feel, from Buddhism's consistent rejection of violence, its constant emphasis on dialogue, discussion and language as means of resolving conflict. Karl Jaspers astutely attributes the great sadness of Shakyamuni's disciples on his approaching death as deriving from a fear that "the word will have lost its master." [4] One sutra describes Shakyamuni as meeting others with joy, approaching them with a bright and welcoming countenance. [5] The life of Shakyamuni was one completely untrammeled by dogma, a life of open dialogue expressive of his openness of spirit.
Significantly, the sutra describing the travels that are the culmination of Shakyamuni's Buddhist practice at the ripe age of eighty begins with an episode in which he uses the power of language to avert a war of invasion. [6] According to the sutra, Shakyamuni did not directly admonish the minister of Maghada, a large country bent on realizing its aims of hegemony through the conquest of the neighboring state of Vajji. Rather, he persuasively expounded upon the principles by which nations prosper and decline, thus dissuading the minister from the planned invasion.
The final chapter of this same sutra concludes with a moving description of Shakyamuni on his deathbed, repeatedly urging his disciples to ask any question they might have about the Buddhist Law (Dharma) or its practice, so that they would not find themselves regretting unasked questions after his passing. To his final moment, Shakyamuni actively sought out dialogue, and the drama of his final voyage from beginning to end is illuminated by the light of language, skillfully wielded by one who was truly a "master of words."
Why was Shakyamuni able to employ language with such freedom and to such effect? What made him such a peerless master of dialogue? At essence, it was the embracing expansiveness of his enlightened state, utterly free of all dogma, prejudice and attachment. The following words, attributed to him, are illustrative: "I perceived a single, invisible arrow piercing the hearts of the people." [7] This "arrow" could be termed the arrow of a discriminatory consciousness, an unreasoning emphasis on difference. The India of his time was in a period of transition and upheaval, in which the horrors of conflict and war were an ever-present reality. To Shakyamuni's penetrating gaze, it was clear that the underlying cause of this conflict was attachment to differences such as those of ethnicity and nationality.
Speaking in the early years of this century, Josiah Royce, one of many important philosophers Harvard has given the world, declared as follows: "Reform, in such matters, must come, if at all, from within ... The public as a whole is whatever the processes that occur, for good or evil, in individual minds, may determine." [8].
Indeed, the "invisible arrow" of evil to be overcome is not to be found in races and classes external to ourselves, but embedded in our own heart. The conquest of our own prejudicial thinking, our own attachment to difference, is the guiding principle for open dialogue, the essential condition for the establishment of peace and universal respect for human rights. It was his own complete release from prejudice that enabled Shakyamuni to expound the Law with such freedom, adapting his style of teaching to the character and capacity of his interlocutor.
Whether mediating a communal dispute over water-rights, converting a violent criminal, or admonishing one who objected to the practice of begging for alms, the quality we find throughout Shakyamuni's dialogues is the effort to make others aware of the " arrow" of their inner evil. It was the power of his extraordinary character that brought these words to the lips of one contemporaneous sovereign: "Those whom we, with weapons, cannot force to surrender, you subdue unarmed." [9].
Only through overcoming attachment to difference can a religion rise above an essentially tribal outlook to offer a global faith. When, for example, Nichiren dismisses the Japanese Shogunate authorities who were persecuting him as the "rulers of this little island country" [10] it is clear that his vision was directed toward a world religion embodying universal values, transcending the confines of a single state.
It should also be noted that dialogue is not limited to the kind of placid exchanges that might be likened to the wafting of a spring breeze. There are times when, to break the grip arrogance has on another, speech must be like the breath of fire. It was the occasional ferocity of their speech that earned Shakyamuni and Nagarjuna, whom we typically associate only with mildness, the sobriquet of "those who deny everything," [11] from the powers-that-be of their respective eras.
Likewise, Nichiren, who demonstrated a familial affection and tender concern for the common people, was uncompromising in his confrontations with corrupt and degenerate authority. Always unarmed in the inveterately violent Japan of his time, he relied exclusively and unflinchingly on the power of persuasion and nonviolence. The following passage, written when he was exiled to a distant island from which none were expected to return alive, typifies his lionesque tone. Whether tempted with the promise of absolute power if he renounced his faith, or threatened with the beheading of his parents if he adhered to his beliefs, he vowed that "whatever obstacles I might encounter, so long as men of wisdom do not prove my teachings to be false, I will never yield! [12].
Nichiren's faith in the power of language can only be termed adamantine. If more people were to resolve to pursue dialogue in this same unrelenting manner, the inevitable contentions of human life would surely find more harmonious resolution, prejudice would yield to empathy, war and conflict to peace. Through the workings of genuine dialogue, opposing perspectives are transformed from that which divides and sunders people into that which forges deeper union between them.
During World War II, the Soka Gakkai challenged head-on the forces of Japanese militarism. As a result, many members, beginning with founder and first president Tsunesaburo Makiguchi, were imprisoned. There, far from recanting, Makiguchi continued to explain to his guards and interrogators the principles of Buddhism--the very thoughts which made him a "thought criminal." He died in prison at age seventy-three.
Heir to Makiguchi's spiritual legacy, second president Josei Toda emerged from the ordeal of a two-year imprisonment and, declaring his faith in the global human family, engaged in widespread dialogue among the common people, suffering and lost in the aftermath of the war. President Toda also bequeathed to us, his youthful disciples, the mission of building a world free of nuclear weapons.
With this as our historical and philosophical basis, the Soka Gakkai International is at present engaged in activities for peace, education and culture, forging bonds of solidarity with citizens in one hundred fifteen countries and regions worldwide. For my own part, I am committed to continuing my efforts to engage in dialogue with people of good will throughout the world, in order to contribute in some small way to the greater happiness of humankind."