This article builds on the growing literature on the Kyoto School of Philosophy and its influences on the field of Education. First, I argue that the influence of the Kyoto School of Philosophy is historically significant in Japan, and that the connection between this philosophical school and the philosophy of education is by no means superficial. Second, I suggest that this school contributes a unique view of ‘negative education’ founded in the philosophical idea of ‘nothingness’. I examine how this negative (...) education is manifest both in religious cultivation and in more general views of education, and I develop these ideas through the models of self-negation proposed by Nishitani Keiji and Hisamatsu Shin'ichi. Third, taking up the Herbartian idea of ‘pedagogical tact’, I analyse the characteristics of the I-Thou relationship, in the vector of nothingness, implicit in the above-mentioned view of education. I examine two approaches to this relationship—one of ‘sharing in nothingness’ as found in Nishitani and Hisamatsu, and one that goes beyond the idea of ‘sharing’ and accommodates alterity, as found in Nishida Kitarô and Nishihira Tadashi. By threshing out these three points, I hope to highlight the continued pedagogical relevance of the philosophical ideas of the Kyoto School. (shrink)

A palavra japonesa geidō 芸道 é formada por dois caracteres: o primeiro remete à “habilidade” ou “capacidade” de executar algo e o segundo a uma “via” ou “caminho”, de maneira que poderia ser traduzida por “via da arte”. Como observou Hisamatsu Shin’ichi em um diálogo com Martin Heidegger, “via”, aqui, não significa simplesmente “método”, mas mantém uma profunda relação com a vida. No entanto, para nomear a “arte” no sentido moderno “ocidental estético”,emprega-se, em japonês, o neologismo geijutsu 芸術. O (...) segundo caráter, neste caso, contém mais claramente o significado de “método” ou “técnica”, além de “êxito/realização” e “destreza”. Partindo das distintas conotações que os dois termos evocam, propomo-nos a examinar a concepção tradicional e moderna da arte, no Japão, à luz das reflexões dos filósofos da Escola de Kioto sobre o “lugar do nada” (mu no basho 無の場所) como “campo expressivo”(hyōgenteki sekai表現的世界). Com isso, tentaremos mostrar a correspondência existente entre a concepção de arte como poiesis, ou autoexpressão criativa, de alguns desses filósofos e a compreensão tradicional japonesa da arte como via. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Zen and Philosophy: An Intellectual Biography of Nishida KitarōThomas P. KasulisZen and Philosophy: An Intellectual Biography of Nishida Kitarō. By Michiko Yusa. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 2002. 482 pp.Readers of this journal know that much Buddhist-Christian dialogue over the past three decades has featured Kyōto School philosophy for the Buddhist side of the conversations. The major figures in that school known to the West are Nishida Kitarō, (...) Tanabe Hajime, Nishitani Keiji, Takeuchi Yoshinori, and Ueda Shizuteru. Other philosophers not formally connected to the school but in some ways kindred spirits with it include Watsuji Tetsurō, Hisamatsu Shin'ichi, and Abe Masao. Both individually and collectively these philosophers represent a formidable intellectual tradition, simultaneously challenging and inspiring their Western theological and philosophical counterparts. In surveying the Western responses to the Kyōto School, however, I often find an odd lacuna: the philosophers behind the thought are often absent or, at best, caricatured.The mischief here comes from two directions. On one hand, there are the Western theologians and philosophers who read in translation the works by Nishitani or Tanabe and are astounded by the sophistication of the thought and the way familiar Western philosophical thinkers such as Hegel, Kant, Heidegger, and Plato are interwoven in the arguments. Not being Asian specialists, these readers quite naturally focus on parts of the texts most familiar and intelligible—the interplay with Western ideas and values. This approach has helped Western thinkers discover hidden cultural assumptions in their own philosophizing and religious thinking. Missing, however, is the culturally Japanese character of the Kyōto School philosophers. At least until very recently, these philosophers did not write for a Western audience, but [End Page 268] for their Japanese compatriots. Thus, however much their philosophies might be Western in style and content, it is likely that at least some of their questions (and therefore their answers) were responses to Japanese, rather than Western, concerns. Given the upheaval that Japanese culture and society underwent in the first half of the twentieth century, it is especially important to factor into the equation such contemporaneous cultural concerns.Partly in response to this situation, there has more recently been a response from some Western intellectual historians of Japan who seek to debunk the Kyōto School as a whole, finding in it nothing more than disguised ethnocentrism, jingoism, and imperialism. In making their case, they often ignore the full philosophical systems developed by the Kyōto School thinkers and focus instead on comments from public forums or lectures. Sometimes no more than a few isolated quotations are used to support the case. What is wrong here is not necessarily the claim that Kyōto School philosophy was implicated in the political thought of the wartime years, but rather the cavalier scholarship used to support that claim. A whole school of philosophers tends to be lumped together with little concern for sorting out individual differences. For intellectual historians of this ilk, it is as if books are written by ideologies rather than individuals (or even individual ideologues). Such caricatures of the Kyōto School may even minimize the significance of the fact that some philosophers associated with the movement, Miki Kiyoshi and Tosaka Jun for example, died in prison for their leftist ideas and practices. The Kyōto School is not nearly as hegemonic as some of its critics like to claim.In short, these two commonWestern approaches to reading the Kyōto School philosophers tend either to overlook their Japaneseness or to deny their individuality. Either way, the philosopher disappears from the philosophizing. Here Yusa's book is a vital corrective. Her intellectual biography both Japanizes and humanizes Nishida Kitarō (1870-1945), the founder of the Kyōto School and the inspiration for most of Japan's modern philosophy. Her narrative gives us insight after insight into the concrete contexts in which Nishida's thought developed. Her discussion of each progression in Nishida's thought over his lifetime is framed by relevant events in his family life, his professional career, his interaction with colleagues, and the readings that were inspiring him at the time. Japanese editions of modern writers' collected works commonly... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Unconventional Guest: Masao Abe’s Dialogue with the American AcademyWilliam R. LaFleurDuring the two years we were together at Princeton I once took Masao Abe to meet my parents, then alive and living in New Jersey. I had told them some things in advance about Abe, about Zen, and about what in Abe’s ways could at times be unconventional. My mother, I knew, would put lots of effort into preparing (...) the Sunday dinner we ate on the day of our visit. At the meal’s conclusion Abe turned to my mother and declared: “Mrs. LaFleur, this meal has been simply outrageous! ” For a moment I thought he might have meant “delicious” and had landed on the wrong word. But then I saw his smiling eyes and mouth. He had meant what he said. Everyone laughed and my mother promptly thanked him for his “compliment.”Being at times a genially unconventional guest, one who also in academic or dialogic contexts would say surprising or even unsettling things, was something at which Abe excelled. He was also unconventional in his teaching. He frustrated us when we expected the usual approach. In the book edited by Donald Mitchell I told how in 1969 at the University of Chicago Abe aggravated those of us graduate students who wanted to do a survey of all of modern Japanese philosophy; Abe forced us to stay with certain sentences in Nishida, wanting our minds to be changed. He would not budge.1Some years later at Princeton he proved to be maddeningly insistent on this. Reading The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch with graduate students in 1977 who knew some Chinese and Japanese was not for Professor Abe going to be exercise in the usual historico-textual excavation; all that was available, he said, in the introduction and notes to Philip Yampolsky’s translation of that text. He was not interested in an “objectification” that put distance between the voice speaking through the text and the person being addressed by it today. For him the ancient text must read as if written for us and for us today. With Abe as teacher the dialogic mode of the seminar room had to replicate in its own way the lecture hall of the Ta-fan Temple! But graduate students at Princeton, inured as they were to the conventional mode of textual-historical analysis, were made clearly uncomfortable by this. Therefore, hoping I might serve as a mediator, they asked me to ask Abe if we might be more historical and move on more quickly. When, with some trepidation, I transmitted this request [End Page 127] to Abe, he merely chuckled and smiled, leaving me to guess why we should expect no change in his emphasis. What follows is my attempt to unpack what was involved in this... and why it remains relevant today.Even some more recent scholars of East Asian Buddhism in our academy today resemble those graduate students back then in Princeton. They, too, have been suggesting that there was something “behind the times” or in need of being updated in the dialogic teaching mode used so brilliantly by Abe—as well as by Hisamatsu Shin’ichi and D. T. Suzuki. However, there is, I think, something both laughably conventional and arrogantly neocolonialist in these critics’ assumptions. They believe that textual and historicist methods (of which Ideologiekritik is an extension) remain something that the West still needs to teach to the non-West, that these render all other methods outdated and irrelevant, and that they can be deployed to expose what remains flawed in the way that, for instance, Japanese such as Abe study and teach Buddhism and Zen.Ironically, this presumptuous stance itself crumbles under historical and textual analysis—at least when applied to Japan. In various studies, Michael Pye has shown that Tominaga Nakamoto’s studies of Buddhist texts, historical and critical to the core, were done in the early seventeenth century and show a solid tradition of scholarship in this mode arising there without any influence from Europe. As Pye shows, interest in the plurality of religions and an early stage of a “science of religions” were present in Japan... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Report on the Thirtieth Annual Conference of the Japan Society for Buddhist-Christian StudiesYagi YōichiTranslated by Paul L. SwansonIn Japan, the disasters of the giant tsunami and the resulting crisis at the Fukushima nuclear power plant on 11 March 2011 have been grim reminders of the unprecedented tragedies of the nuclear bombings on Hiroshima and Nagasaki just sixty-six years ago. These are experiences in which one becomes speechless, when words (...) are no longer able to convey what used to be their usual meaning.At that time, people were faced with basic and universal questions concerning the fundamental constitution of human existence. What is the ultimate basis for our thoughts and actions? Is there a way to know? If there is a way to know these answers, how do we attain them? The state of intellectual inquiry in postwar Japan, however, was not able to face these questions and come up with answers. Rather, there was a tendency to avoid facing these questions directly and instead rely on absorbing the pronouncements of Western thought.Within this postwar intellectual environment in Japan, the Japan Society for Buddhist- Christian Studies has continuously attempted in an academic way to discuss comprehensive themes, based on Buddhist-Christian or Christian-Buddhist foundations, and is perhaps the only forum in Japan that has consistently sought answers to these basic and universal questions of human existence.It was in this time of crisis that the thirtieth annual conference of the Japan Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies met 5-7 September 2011 at Hanazono University in Kyoto. Discussion of a recent book, Dialogue and Commentary: The Words of Jesus and the Words of Zen (対談評釈 イエスの言葉／ 禅の言葉, Iwanami Shoten, 2010, in Japanese), a series of dialogues and discussions between Ueda Shizuteru and Yagi Seiichi, was chosen as an appropriate theme for this meeting. This book was chosen because it is a splendid synthesis of the activity and discussion carried out by our Society over the past thirty years. Through the magnificent dialogue of these two men, we hoped to open a "living horizon" for a mutual understanding of "the words of Jesus and the words of Zen." The main themes were "direct experience," "self-awareness," "place," and "words."The two dialoguers—Ueda and Yagi—have not only both served and provided [End Page 139] leadership for the Society over many years, as presidents and in other capacities, but also share a basic sense of fundamental questions. They are also leading philosophers of religion who represent the attempt to seek answers to fundamental questions within Buddhism and Christianity in postwar Japan. Ueda Shizuteru, a leading authority and internationally recognized scholar of Meister Eckhart, is also known for his contributions on the philosophy of religion (especially the idea of "place"/basho) in the tradition of Nishida Kitarō, Nishitani Keiji, and Zen Buddhism. His basic philosophical statement is "I am I when I am not I." Yagi Seiichi, on the other hand, is known for promoting religion (philosophy) as "a logic of place" as seen in the New Testament, and for his historical and essentialist critique of New Testament thought. To Yagi, the essence of "the religion of Jesus" is religion as a "logic of place," and if we return to this place we can (to borrow the exquisite phrasing of Yagi himself) "drink directly from the same fountain that was discovered by Jesus." Through this experience we can transcend not only biblical fundamentalism and the exclusivist absolutism of Christianity, but also make it possible to have a true dialogue with other religions. For Yagi, the dialogue between Buddhism and Christianity not only should deepen common understanding, but also open the way to mutual reform, clarify the truth that flows at the basis of both religions, and probe into the fundamental constitution of human existence, and this is why he has constantly sought after dialogue with Buddhists.Yagi Seiichi has stood out as a partner in dialogue for many years. His discussions with the Zen master Hisamatsu Shin'ichi (A Religion of Awakening, published in 1980) was an epochal event in intellectual history from the perspective of "Buddhism and Christianity." Yagi has also been involved in important dialogues with Nishitani... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Thought and Legacy of Masao AbeChristopher IvesMasao Abe stands as the most important Buddhist in modern interfaith dialogue and the main transmitter of Zen thought to the West following the death of D. T. Suzuki. His most widely read work, Zen and Western Thought, edited by William LaFleur, won an award in 1987 from the American Academy of Religion as the best recent publication in the “constructive and (...) reflective” category. Abe followed that influential volume with further collections of essays edited by Steven Heine: Buddhism and Interfaith Dialogue, Zen and Comparative Studies, and Zen and the Modern World. Abe also wrote widely in Japanese, with his most mature thought finding expression in several volumes he published later in life: Kongen no shuppatsu (Starting from the Root), Kyogi to kyomu (Falsehood and Nihility), and Hibutsu hima (Neither Buddha nor Devil).Abe also made significant contributions to the study of the renowned Sōtō Zen thinker Dōgen (1200–1253). With Norman Waddell he translated a number of fascicles of Dōgen’s Shōbō-genzō, which appeared in The Eastern Buddhist and were then compiled as The Heart of Dōgen’s Shōbō-genzō. Abe published his own essays on Dōgen, again with Heine’s editorial help, in the volume Dōgen: His Philosophy and Religion. In such journals as International Philosophical Quarterly, Abe also published essays on Nishida Kitarō and other Kyoto school thinkers, and with me he translated Nishida’s seminal work, Zen no Kenkyū (An Inquiry into the Good).In the 1980s, Abe and his main Christian dialogue partner, process theologian John Cobb, started the North American Buddhist-Christian Theological Encounter. They were also instrumental in the founding of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies. Records of Abe’s dialogue with Christian and Jewish thinkers can be found in such volumes as The Emptying God, which John Cobb and I coedited, and in a follow-up volume I edited alone, Divine Emptiness and Historical Fullness.In terms of his legacy, Abe may ultimately be seen less as a purely Zen thinker than as a Japanese philosopher of religion indebted to his teacher, Hisamatsu Shin’ichi, the Zen and Pure Land traditions, and the Kyoto school of philosophy, while also influenced by Christian mysticism and theology, process philosophy, German idealism, and strands of existentialism and nihilism.Many people engaged in interfaith dialogue and comparative religious philosophy have benefited from Abe’s way of contrasting Non-Being and Buddhist Nothingness [End Page 103] (mu), as well as his rich treatment of Nietzsche’s nihilism, negation in Tillich’s theology, and Whitehead’s metaphysics. And I think I’m not alone in having wrestled with his claims about the reversibility of time.But central to Abe’s thought, and in all likelihood his legacy, is the Buddhist construct of śūnyatā, usually translated by him as Emptiness. Abe crafted a specific representation of śūnyatā that he repeated in a range of writings and conferences—so much so that Nagatomi Masatoshi, when he was teaching at Harvard, referred to Abe as “Mr. Sunyata.” Though at times his readers may have wanted Abe to revise or elaborate certain parts of his presentation of śūnyatā, I think we may actually have benefited from how he stuck with his discourse, for he provided us with a fairly fixed and consistent point of reference around which to organize our own thoughts, comparisons, and critiques.In terms of specifics, Abe advanced śūnyatā as the metaphysical and spiritual foundation of all religions, including monotheistic traditions, and as the optimal basis on which humanity could, while dealing with antireligious ideologies and interreligious conflict, help ground a new global community beyond nation-states. In “Kenotic God and Dynamic Sunyata,” probably his most widely read essay, he makes these and related arguments after examining the Christian notion of kenosis—divine self-emptying—as a fruitful point of comparison with śūnyatā. Along the way he echoes the Buddhist call for people to “empty” themselves and thereby break through karma, turn ignorance into wisdom, and deliver themselves beyond the realm of ordinary discriminating thought—including dualistic ethical reflection—and into the depth dimension of śūnyatā.In this engagement with... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist Philosophy and New Testament TheologyYagi SeiichiPrologueBy way of Buddhist-Christian dialogue we Christians can become aware of the latent motifs in our own tradition. The dialogue gives us opportunities to rethink the Christian tradition, not to interpret it from Buddhist viewpoint but, based on these actualized motifs, to find a more adequate interpretation of its own. In this way Buddhist-Christian dialogue is relevant also for the construction of New (...) Testament theology.On the Philosophy of Nishida, Hisamatsu, and NishitaniThe central problems of Nishida Kitaro’s philosophy were (1) keiken (immediate experience) in his early period, (2) jikaku (seeing oneself in oneself) in his middle period, and (3) basho (topos) in his last years. 1 It should be noted that these terms together cover the essential fields of Buddhist cognition.Nishida began his book Studies of the Good 2 with statements concerning immediate experience. After the publication of the book, he felt compelled to consider the nature of the subject of philosophical cognition at the scene of immediate experience, for the subject in this case is not reason in the sense of Western philosophy. Thus in his middle period, jikaku became the main theme of his reflection. Jikaku means that the self sees itself in itself, and Nishida named the deepest, ultimate self, the self that embraces and sees all levels of cognition in “the field of transcendental predicate.” Then in his last years, Nishida grasped it anew as the topos, in which the individuals work on one another. The structure of the topos was defined as the “unity of the contradictory,” for in the topos the absolute and the relative define each other.His student, Hisamatsu Shin’ichi, made jikaku his central theme, whereas the thinking of Nishitani Keiji, another eminent student of Nishida, was centered mainly on topos. Nishida’s understanding of jikaku reminds us somewhat of the Hegelian Geist, for it concerns primarily the subject of cognition. Hisamatsu, however, spoke simply of ‘kaku’ (awakening) of the Formless Self. It means that the ego is awakened to the Formless Self. At the same time it is the awakening of the Formless Self to [End Page 165] Itself. We should note that kaku is not simply self-cognition but rather the actualization of the Self. As is well known, Hisamatsu rejected theism. God or Buddha as ‘other’ or ‘over against’ is at best a secondary human construction and not primary reality. So, if we call God the absolute Other, God must be at the same time the ultimate Self: God as the absolute Other, in Hisamatsu’s view, must be at the same time God who acts as the ultimate subject of humanity. 3 On the other hand, Nishitani preferred the terms common to Mahayana-Buddhism in general: ku (nothingness), engi (dependent orinination), and jijimuge (infinite-fold mutual penetration of the individuals). In his book What Is Religion, 4 Nishitani tried to rethink such Christian themes as personality, time, and history from the standpoint of ku. Remarkably, he stated that the topos of ku is the field of power: “As far as all beings penetrate one another in their being, they are not what they are. On the other hand they are as such what they are. This relation of mutual penetration itself is the power which gathers and binds all beings into one, the power which makes the world the world. The field of ku is the field of power.” 5 As is well known, from the viewpoint of jijimuge, the infinite-fold mutual penetration of the individuals, there is nothing transcendent. Therefore Nishitani, when he speaks of this aspect of reality, does not refer to the paradoxical unity of the absolute and the relative. The field of ku is simply the field of power in which mutual penetration of the individuals is realized.If we combine three keywords of these three philosophers, namely Nishida’s “immediate experience,” Hisamatsu’s “awakening to the Self,” and Nishitani’s “field of ku as the field of power,” they seem to me more genuinely Buddhist than Nishida’s terms: keiken, jikaku, and basho. Whereas Nishida—who as a pioneer attempted to construct a philosophical system from... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Masao Abe: D. T. Suzuki’s Legacies and an “Academic Dharma Lineage” in North AmericaMichiko YusaProfessor Abe is generally regarded as the torch bearer of D. T. Suzuki. But how did that come about? This essay sheds light on the relationship between Suzuki and Abe.Abe’s professor, Hisamatsu Shin’ichi, had come to know Suzuki through his mentor Nishida Kitarō. Suzuki was one of Nishida’s closest friends. It appears that (...) class='Hi'>Hisamatsu’s and Suzuki’s cordial relationship became closer after Nishida’s death in 1945. Hisamatsu in turn was the link for Abe to come to know Suzuki. Abe recalls his first encounter with Suzuki, which took place in the winter of 1947, when Suzuki was in bed with a bad cold and Abe was sent by Hisamatsu to make a sick call on his behalf. Abe was then Hisamatsu’s teaching assistant ( joshu). Seeing Suzuki in person for the first time, Abe could not help but feel the unique spiritual presence of this man. At that time, Abe, though a committed follower of Pure Land Buddhism, was deeply troubled with his spiritual quest. Perhaps sensing Abe’s agony, Suzuki gave him a copy of his imperial lecture The Essence of Buddhism, in which he had treated Zen and Pure Land thought as sharing the same Mahayana roots.1Abe’s second visit to Suzuki came in the spring of 1949, when Suzuki was preparing to leave for the United States to spend “the rest of his life in order to bring the message of Zen Buddhism” to the West. At that time Abe was to convey Hisamatsu’s concern that Suzuki ought to remain in Japan and contribute to internationalizing Zen by translating Zen texts into English, for, in Hisamatsu’s mind, there was no one better qualified than Suzuki to carry out that task.2Suzuki was ready to make a bold move, however. Having witnessed Hiroshima-Nagasaki, he was convinced that the message of wisdom and compassion based on the awakening to the “true self” that Zen speaks of was an effective and necessary antidote to the egocentric mindset, which manifested also as national ego-centrism, rampant in the post–World War II world. He was convinced that the message of awakening and compassion would give the humanity a better chance at peace. In fact, by the early 1950s, with the intensification of the Cold War and the turmoil in Korea, there was a palpable fear that World War III might break out any day, and Suzuki certainly shared that ominous sense.3 [End Page 111]Zen Must Adopt New ExpressionsSuzuki left for the United States on June 16, 1949, to attend the Second East-West Philosopher’s Conference and to teach at the University of Hawai‘i in the summer and the fall semesters. Through his interaction with Western and Asian thinkers at the conference as well as with his students at the university, he came to feel strongly that (1) it was important to emphasize compassion (hi) in the face of an excessive Zen emphasis on the koan practice, (2) Zen Buddhists must develop their “logical” expression to articulate Zen teaching in language understandable to Westerners, and, in this connection, (3) it was incumbent on him to introduce the thought of Nishida Kitarō to the West. In Suzuki’s own words, “Contemporary Zen is short of compassion (hi). Therefore, it lacks the momentum to engage society and work from within it. Again, it lacks a logical discourse (riron). This is something Nishida always used to say. In order to make Western thinkers understand Zen teaching, one must have a logical system (ronri).” 4These three points are clearly present and developed in Abe’s works. In his introduction to Zen and Western Thought (1985), Abe wrote that (1) Zen embraces a profound philosophy (echoing Suzuki’s concern for the necessity for logical articulation), (2) the ultimate in Zen and in Buddhism is “absolute Nothingness” or “Emptiness” (echoing Nishida’s philosophy), (3) Buddhism is a radical realism and a compassionate way of life (echoing Suzuki’s concern for compassion), and (4) a new cosmology, not a new humanism, is needed in... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Masao Abe’s Early Spiritual Journey and his Later PhilosophyDonald W. MitchellMasao Abe was born in 1915 in Osaka, Japan. He was the third of six children, and his father was a physician. His mother was the only person in the family who practiced religion, namely, Jōdo Shinshū or Shin Buddhism. As a university student, Abe attended what is now Osaka Municipal University, where he studied economics and law. While (...) at the university, he read the Tannishō, a text by Shinran. Abe later said that he understood from that text that “self-power” was futile and the only hope for salvation was “other-power” faith in the grace of Amida Buddha. However, he also understood that this life of grace entailed the relinquishment of “self-centered calculation.” Abe felt that he was not able to set aside his ego-self and began for the first time in his life to experience the tension between Buddha and ego, or, in more Western terms, the duality of God and self. This concern led Abe into a very personal spiritual quest that would define his life and work.Given this concern, after graduation, Masao Abe wanted to attend Kyōto University to study Buddhism. Because of family issues, however, he took a position at a trading company in Kōbe, where he worked for four years. Those years were marked by a sense of meaninglessness, and in the end Abe quit his job and entered Kyōto University, where he studied Western philosophy under Tanabe Hajime, who was himself influenced by Shin Buddhism. It was during that time that Abe met Hisamatsu Shin’ichi, an associate professor at Kyōto University and a well-known and committed practitioner of Zen Buddhism.At one point, Abe took his spiritual concerns about the tension he felt between his ego-centeredness and the religious life to Hisamatsu. He asked, “I am nothing more than a lump of selfish passions. Yet, isn’t it true that in Mahāyāna Buddhism one can be saved just as one is, selfish passions and all?” Hisamatsu responded, “The very thought that there are selfish passions is a selfish passion. Originally there is no such thing.” 1 Abe understood from Hisamatsu that there was a more fundamental ground below the dualism between Buddha and ego, a ground in which this dualism is overcome and salvation from any such dualistic struggle could be found.But Abe was not ready to surrender his Pure Land religiosity. In fact, it was during [End Page 107] this time at Kyōto University that he had an experience of Amida Buddha’s grace. As Abe put it, he realized that while he thought that he was “running toward” Amida Buddha in his struggle with faith, he realized that Amida Buddha was not something to go to, but, rather, Amida was already right there with him all the time. Abe said that at that moment he threw himself on the tatami floor and wept in gratitude. It was gratitude for Amida’s presence and grace that embraced Abe just as he was, full of passions and ego. When he told Hisamatsu about this experience, Hisamatsu was very happy and never questioned Abe about his Pure Land views again.Gradually, under the influence of Hisamatsu and with his deeper study of Buddhism, Abe realized that while his Pure Land experience was valid, there was a more fundamental or original religious standpoint to be discovered. Abe still struggled with the duality between the life of Amida’s grace and embracement of Abe with his ego, and Abe’s ego-centered passions themselves. He felt, under Hisamatsu’s influence, that it might be on that more fundamental standpoint that this duality would be overcome. He also saw the undeniable realization of this original nondualistic standpoint in Hisamatsu himself, and this led him to turn more fully to Zen practice under Hisamatsu’s guidance in the context of the F.A.S. Society.Given the foundational paradigm shift Abe faced in Hisamatsu and the depth of his own struggle with the dualism still involved in his Pure Land position, Zen practice under Hisamatsu was extremely demanding for... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Masao Abe: A Bodhisattva’s VowJames FredericksAbout ten years ago, I enjoyed a fine Japanese lunch with my friend and teacher, the late Masao Abe. I gathered with him and his wife, Ikuko, in a traditional restaurant in Kyoto. Abe Sensei had been somewhat pensive and withdrawn for most of the meal. Mrs. Abe and I had been bantering about how late the tsuyu rains had been that year and (...) the effect it was having on Kyoto’s hydrangea. Suddenly Sensei began to speak with an unusual tone of voice, as if saying something of great importance to no one in particular. “It is not enough,” he said. Mrs. Abe and I fell silent and attentive. He repeated himself in the same voice: “It is not enough.” I knew immediately what my teacher was talking about. In his old age and after a long and distinguished career of teaching and lecturing about Zen in the West, Abe Sensei was talking about a Buddhist teaching dear to his heart, “the standpoint of emptiness.” Out of politeness, I did not want to indicate that I understood his meaning so directly and sat wondering what I should say in response. Finally, I settled on something like this: “I will continue to study; Sensei, please continue to teach.” I spoke in the most formal Japanese I could muster out of respect for my teacher and friend.Sitting on the tatami mats in that restaurant in Kyoto was not the only time that Sensei has ever said “it is not enough.” In April 1942, four months after the beginning of the Pacific War, Masao Abe entered Kyoto Imperial University to study philosophy of religion. He was twenty-seven years old, buffeted by criticism for not enlisting in the military, and fearful of the power of nihilism at work in his homeland. In Kyoto, he was much attracted by the lectures of Tanabe Hajime, who was already filled with foreboding over Japan’s impending defeat and looking to Pure Land Buddhism for guidance. Tanabe’s comment “Amida is not far from here” brought Abe to weep inconsolably in the realization that it was he who was moving away from Amida even as Amida was moving toward him. Even still, Sensei would eventually find the Pure Land path “not enough” for resisting the forces of nihilism in the world and in himself.After the war, Abe joined a Zen meditation group that met at Myōshinji in Kyoto. The group was directed by Hisamatsu Shin’ichi, a Zen layman and lecturer on Buddhism at the university. In December 1951, Abe had a violent encounter with Hisamatsu that people still talk about. Zen had begun to erode Abe’s Pure Land faith and the threat of nihilism had returned in force. One evening, in great agitation, [End Page 115] Abe rose from his meditation pillow and lunged toward Hisamatsu screaming, “Is this the true self?” He was restrained briefly and then left the room. Later, Abe said in despair, “I cannot find anyplace where I can stand,” and Hisamatsu answered him straight away: “Stand right at that place where there is no place to stand.” This is what Abe Sensei called “the standpoint of emptiness.” Abe would eventually teach at great universities in the United States and Europe and become one of the leading figures in the dialogue among Buddhists and Christians. At the heart of all of this has been his unwavering commitment to expounding the standpoint of emptiness. Unwavering, that is, until that day in Kyoto over lunch when he said, “It is not enough.”Of Buddhism’s many impressive teachings, the bodhisattva ideal must be one of the most wondrous. A bodhisattva is one who, in the quest for enlightenment, has come to the threshold of nirvana itself. Ready to enter into bliss, the bodhisattva renounces nirvana and turns back to samsara. This return to samsara takes the form of a vow to work skillfully for the benefit of every sentient being. In the bodhisattva’s vow, Buddhism teaches a great and paradoxical truth. Since attachment is the birthplace of sorrow, wisdom requires that attachment be renounced. In the quest for liberation from... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Is Masao Abe an Original Thinker?Steven HeineDuring the course of a remarkable career spanning six decades in various institutions in Japan and the West, beginning with his training under Hisamatsu Shin’ichi at Kyoto University, Masao Abe became known for several important accomplishments in disseminating Buddhist thought in comparative perspectives and global contexts. In addition to his considerable contributions to the teaching and mentoring of several dozen Western scholars (...) of Buddhist studies, a first major achievement was the translation and interpretation of eminent Zen Buddhist thinkers. Abe is especially known for his work on Dōgen, the thirteenth-century founder of the Sōtō Zen sect, and Nishida Kitarō, the leading figure in modern Japanese philosophy and originator of the Kyoto school, of which Abe is considered a prominent member. Abe’s renderings (as a cotranslator) and hermeneutic discussions of Dōgen and Nishida remain among the best and most frequently cited in those respective fields.Second, Abe gained prominence more generally as a presenter of traditional Zen Buddhist thought to the modern West. It was often said that with the passing of D. T. Suzuki in 1966, the mantle was passed to Abe, who became the leading figure playing the role of transmitter. A third accomplishment was Abe’s ever vigorous participation and lifelong commitment to interfaith dialogue, primarily involving Buddhist-Christian studies, as well as exchanges with Jewish thinkers and discussions of thematic issues, such as the encounter of religion and science or the impact of the Holocaust on comparative ethics. The hallmark of the Kyoto school is a comparison of Japanese Buddhism and Western thought. However, Abe went much further than predecessors and colleagues in seeking out and exchanging ideas with dialogue partners from among the leading theologians and philosophers of religion in the West representing a wide ranger of Christian and, to a lesser extent, Jewish traditions.The question that arises is whether and to what extent there may be a fourth area of accomplishment by examining whether Abe can be considered an original thinker, and, if so, what his special contribution to the Kyoto school and cross-cultural religious philosophy in a broader sense might be. Reflecting on this issue, I have often thought about an episode that took place a few years ago, when I requested permission from a journal to reprint an article in a collection of Abe’s work that I was editing for the University of Hawai‘i Press. The editor’s response in consenting to the request [End Page 131] also included the comment that he considered Abe’s contribution to Buddhist studies to be “not a secondary, but a primary source.”What did this remark mean? I believe there are two possibilities. One possibility, on the more critical side, is that Abe does not present Buddhism in an objective, historical fashion and is not worthy of being referred to as a secondary source, which in a way has more validity than what he represents. The positive side of the journal editor’s comment is that Abe’s work offers a distinctively original interpretation that is part of the ongoing construction of Buddhist thought for the modern world. Following this line of understanding, my tentative answer to the question of whether Abe is an original thinker is “yes.” A major reason for my saying this is based on the fact, of which the editor was not aware, that Abe rather late in his life was producing books in Japanese for an audience in Japan rather than the West.1In these three volumes published from 1996 to 2000, Abe began to develop what he innovatively called “sunyata-ology,” or a systematic discussion of the root meaning and far-ranging philosophical implications of the Mahayana Buddhist doctrine of śūnyatā or emptiness. This term is often used interchangeably with the notion of nothingness ( Japanese: mu ), in relation to or in contrast with nihilism, nihilation, and negation. Like his Kyoto school predecessors Nishida and Keiji Nishitani, who were in turn greatly influenced by Western philosophers Friedrich Nietzsche and Martin Heidegger, the mission of overcoming nihilism at its root must be the central goal of modern thought, according to Abe, who believes... (shrink)

On May 18, 1958, Martin Heidegger led a one-day colloquium in Freiburg on the topic of “Art and Thinking” together with Shin’ichi Hisamatsu, the Japanese philosopher and Buddhist scholar. The protocol of the colloquium, published in volume 16 of Heidegger’s Gesamtausgabe, presents a conversation among the colloquium participants about art in the East Asian world. In this conversation, Heidegger is particularly interested in hearing from Hisamatsu about the conception of art present in the East Asian world prior to (...) the introduction of Western aesthetic concepts and about the relationship between form and formlessness in East Asian aesthetics. The conversation allows Hisamatsu to clarify for the participants what he takes to be the most essential features of Zen art and how these features compare with those found in modern Western abstract art. (shrink)

On May 19th, 1958, the day after Martin Heidegger and Shin’ichi Hisamatsu led a one-day colloquium in Freiburg on the topic of “Art and Thinking,” the two men came together to discuss the success of the colloquium. The conversation soon turned to the work of Paul Klee, the Swiss artist, and from there to the newest developments in Heidegger’s thinking about language. Heidegger had just presented some of this new thinking during his lecture on Stefan George’s poem “Das Wort” (...) in Vienna a week earlier. Having attended the lecture in Vienna, Hisamatsu used the opportunity of the conversation to ask Heidegger for elaboration on this new thinking and to clarify connections between it and language in the Zen tradition. The conversation was transcribed and later published in volume 16 of Heidegger’s Gesamtausgabe. (shrink)

Buddhism first came to the West many centuries ago through the Greeks, who also influenced some of the culture and practices of Indian Buddhism. As Buddhism has spread beyond India, it has always been affected by the indigenous traditions of its new homes. When Buddhism appeared in America and Europe in the 1950s and 1960s, it encountered contemporary psychology and psychotherapy, rather than religious traditions. Since the 1990s, many efforts have been made by Westerners to analyze and integrate the similarities (...) and differences between Buddhism and it therapeutic ancestors, particularly Jungian psychology. Taking Japanese Zen-Buddhism as its starting point, this volume is a collection of critiques, commentaries, and histories about a particular meeting of Buddhism and psychology. It is based on the Zen Buddhism and Psychotherapy conference that took place in Kyoto, Japan, in 1999, expanded by additional papers, and includes: new perspectives on Buddhism and psychology, East and West cautions and insights about potential confusions traditional ideas in a new light. It also features a new translation of the conversation between Schin'ichi Hisamatsu and Carl Jung which took place in 1958. _Awakening and Insight_ expresses a meeting of minds, Japanese and Western, in a way that opens new questions about and sheds new light on our subjective lives. It will be of great interest to students, scholars and practitioners of psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, and analytical psychology, as well as anyone involved in Zen Buddhism. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:In Memoriam:Masao Abe (1915–2006)James FredericksProfessor Masao Abe, a pioneer in the international dialogue among Christians and Buddhists, died in Kyoto, Japan, on September 10, 2006. He was 91 years old. Professor Abe was given a quiet funeral service reserved to family and close friends, according to sources in Kyoto.After the death of his mentor D. T. Suzuki, Abe became a leading exponent of Zen in the West and a (...) driving force in the encounter between Buddhism and Christianity. Abe must be credited with much of the intellectual vitality of this dialogue, as well as its relevance to contemporary social problems.Abe was a tireless exponent of the Buddhist doctrine of emptiness as the standpoint for realizing the True Self, yet was also willing to place this basic Buddhist teaching in dialogue with Christianity. Rejecting the notion that Christianity and Buddhism were either fundamentally similar or completely different, Abe saw in interreligious dialogue an opportunity for the mutual transformation of dialogue partners and pursued dialogue to help Buddhists and Christians in confronting the threat of nihilism in the modern world.In the ruins of postwar Japan, Abe began his studies with Hajime Tanabe at the University of Kyoto, a prominent figure in the Kyoto school of contemporary Zen Buddhist philosophy in Japan. But it was his encounter with Shin'ichi Hisamatsu, another philosopher of Zen at the University of Kyoto, that would be decisive for Abe's turn to Zen. In a series of Zen retreats with Hisamatsu at Myoshinji Temple in western Kyoto, Abe was forced to confront the reality of nihilism within himself and eventually resolve this problem by entering the Zen standpoint of emptiness, wherein the enlightened self arises.At age 40, Abe left Kyoto for New York to study at Union Theological Seminary with two of the most prominent Christian theologians of his day, Paul Tillich and Reinhold Niebuhr. This encounter began a distinguished career of teaching, writing, and, above all, dialogue with leading Christian thinkers, including David Tracy, Langdon Gilkey, Rosemary Radford Ruether, Jurgen Moltmann, and Hans Kung. Abe served as visiting professor at the University of Chicago, Purdue University, Claremont College, Columbia University, Princeton University, the University of Hawai'i, and other schools. In Germany, [End Page 139] Abe taught at Heidelberg, Tubingen, and Munich. In addition to his many Japanese publications, Abe wrote extensively in English. These works include Zen and Western Thought, an award-winning collection of essays, and a ground-breaking reflection on Christian belief in Christ interpreted from a Buddhist perspective, "Kenotic God and Dynamic Sunyata." This essay appeared in conjunction with responses from several Christian and Jewish theologians, making the book itself a dialogue. Abe also engaged Jewish intellectuals with his Buddhist reflection on the Holocaust.In 1984, Abe and John Cobb convened a group of Buddhist and Christian intellectuals from Japan, North America, and Europe for dialogue in depth over a sustained period of time on a number of fundamental issues. He was also a guiding influence on the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies, which continues his work of dialogue today.Masao Abe is survived by his wife Ikuko Abe, his constant companion in a life of sojourn and dialogue in the West. [End Page 140]James FredericksLoyola Marymount UniversityCopyright © 2007 The University of Hawai'i Press... (shrink)

Illustrations: 1 B/w Illustration Description: Pranab Kumar Sen, Professor Emeritus, Jadavpur University in whose honour this volume has been prepared was one of the leading philosophers of our country and a highly respected teacher. It carries thirty-five articles which deal with different branches of philosophy,viz., philosophical logic, philosophy of language, ontology, theory of knowledge, Kant exegesis, moral philosophy, social philosophy, philosophy of art. As Sen's philosophical interests and expertise were wide the authors had ample freedom in their choice of topics. (...) This volume will be of interest to those who are acquainted with sophisticated literature in analytic philosophy, scholars working in different branches of philosophy and also general readers of modern philosophy. (shrink)

I am most grateful to Elizabeth Anderson (2000), Philip Pettit (2000) and Thomas Scanlon (2000) for making such insightful and penetrating comments on my work and the related literature. I have reason enough to be happy, having been powerfully defended in some respects and engagingly challenged in others. I must also take this opportunity of thanking Martha Nussbaum, for not only chairing the session in which these papers were presented followed by a splendid discussion (which she led), but also for (...) taking the initiative, in the first place, to arrange the session. (shrink)

We re-examine the history of the element “nipponium” discovered by a Japanese chemist Masataka Ogawa in 1908. Since 1996 H.K. Yoshihara has made extensive research into Ogawa’s work and revealed evidence that nipponium proposed for the place of the atomic number of 43 was actually rhenium. In this paper, we provide critical re-interpretations of the existing information and confirmed that Ogawa left indisputable evidence that nipponium was in fact rhenium. We further discuss the reasons for the existing doubts and criticism (...) against Ogawa’s discovery and Yoshihara’s interpretation, and attempt to resolve them. (shrink)

いま、この危機と混迷の時代に、憲法学者・樋口陽一が、基本に立ち戻り、戦後日本を代表する英知・加藤周一と丸山眞男の「憲法論」と「思想」を再読し、その本質を語り尽くす。.

And in this book the distinguished scholar Amartya Sen offers a powerful critique of the theory of social justice that, in its grip on social and political ...

This book develops some of the most important themes of Sen's works over the last decade. He argues in a rich and subtle approach that we should be concerned with people's capabilities rather than their resources or welfare.

In the summer of 1997, I was asked by a leading Japanese newspaper what I thought was the most important thing that had happened in the twentieth century. I found this to be an unusually thought-provoking question, since so many things of gravity have happened over the last hundred years. The European empires, especially the British and French ones that had so dominated the nineteenth century, came to an end. We witnessed two world wars. We saw the rise and fall (...) of fascism and Nazism. The century witnessed the rise of communism, and its fall (as in the former Soviet bloc) or radical transformation (as in China). We also saw a shift from the economic dominance of the West to a new economic balance much more dominated by Japan and East and Southeast Asia. Even though that region is going through some financial and economic problems right now, this is not going to nullify the shift in the balance of the world economy that has occurred over many decades (in the case of Japan, through nearly the entire century). The past hundred years are not lacking in important events. (shrink)

320年あまり続く不変不滅の「先用後利」は、いかに生まれ、いかに「富の山」を築いたか。仕事スタイルを一新する「完全な商人」の物語。.