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to Dawn
Editor’s Preface
The text of this introduction into Buddhism with ample
links to sources on the web is an edited version of a se-
ries of lectures held at Pennsylvania University, which
came to my attention, when I researched the society and
religion of early Japan, of the Heian period in particular.
As for me, my first experience with Buddhism was
when I entered school in Bavaria.
Bavaria was (still is?) a catholic country with a capital
"C" and the intensity these lederhosen people habitually
attach to religion struck me as rather strange, even at an
age, when I wasn’t yet used to ask questions and express
criticism. On every wall there hung a crucifix, at school,
in the shops, at the crossroads. I am not sure whether
they are still like that in the 21st century, although after
9/11 nothing should come as a surprise. Just as our
taboos are going back to a prehistoric past that has pre-
ceded the evolution of superstition and formal religion,
so will fanaticism outlive the religious doctrines and
ideologies, which feed and oxygenate the fundamental-
ists and mujahids of the present era.
I guess my crush on Buddhism at the age of nine – and
the inevitable teasing by the other kids – was a response
of adolescent rebellion. My mother was bewildered, my
father slightly amused. In the end, as it should, my infat-
uation ended in yawns over the endless litanies to shield
yourself from suffering by way of dissociating your inner
self not only from the afflictions but also from your at-
tachments to the more agreeable features of the world
and denounce it all as a mere illusion. I was still very
young, but already this struck me as strange.
A mere illusion imposes itself only on the mentally
challenged. The inmates of Auschwitz would have wel-
comed nothing more than have their nightmare dissolve
in a bad dream. It didn’t. It was all too real. Not even the
guards could put off their minds from the stench and the
flaky soot raining from the chimneys. “Work sets you
free” said the letters on the gate, but the God of Abra-
ham was just standing by and watched. I am told, a
group of rabbis in the camp formed a jury, and sen-
tenced God to be “guilty.” God ignored their verdict, of
course, but not because he is innocent. He ignored them
because he can.
Buddhists don’t think in these terms. For them suffer-
ing and injustice are intrinsic features of our existence.
That maybe so. Yet it is my attachments, which define
who and what I am. If I suffer for it, well, that is the price
we pay for being around and having an identity. There is
no such thing as a free lunch. The motto on the Symp-
sons’ coat of arms is “nil desperandum,” never give up,
and not: “Better don’t try.”
I think what really had put me off about the Shakya-
muni was this underhanded way of labeling as “suffering”
what makes it a joy to be alive: girls, food, the arts,
thinking, and just pottering about.
At the age of twelve I moved on to proper philosophy.
Still unaware that he was the Nazi’s favorite Greek I
trustingly engaged with Plato’s prescriptions for star
chambers, censorship, mandatory cadet schools, march-
ing bands and the breeding of the blondest; strange how
most of the academic establishment continues to wor-
ship at Plato’s altar. Maybe the pretension of liberal dis-
pute in his dialogues has Plato’s admirers deceived in
swallowing the totalitarian poison Plato kept dissemi-
nating under the deceptive labels of “republic” and
“laws.” And it is not as if Plato couldn’t have known bet-
ter. Solon’s bill of rights had been around already for
more than a century; even after the disaster of the Pelo-
ponnesian War, democracy and Athen’s navy were still
going strong for a second lease of life, keeping the con-
servatives on the sideline.
 In real life Socrates acted the court jester of a coterie of
aristocrats, whose hate of democracy eventually would
deliver the city on the height of her powers to her worst
enemy. The terms were harsh. Three fifth of the citizen-
ry from the lower incomes lost their citizenship and
were to be banished, leaving only the oligarchs in
charge. A case where the government dissolved the peo-
ple and elected a new one. Socrates didn’t live to see
that. The Athenians had put him on trial earlier, and he
had it coming. Democracy looked at her enemy and she
knew his name.
The execution of Socrates (a rather dignified affair, if
Plato can be trusted) turned out to be bad publicity, even
to the present day. Yet when the only contemporary
witness painted the man as a sophist and fool we better
pay attention. It is true, Aristophanes produced a carica-
ture; but it could not have made the people laugh had
they not recognized the man in the picture. As for me, I
just didn’t get it: pages and pages of leading questions
without ever coming to the point.
I still imagine people hurtling for cover the moment
they spotted Socrates and his retinue of teenagers with
family connections. Once this gang had you cornered,
the relentless questioning and your red-faced attempt to
get it over with by admitting to everything this Socrates
would put to you was a sure way to elicit the boisterous
mirth of his companions.
Later on I came to feel rather strong about this, but for
the time being I developed a habit of sleeping in the buff
and opened the window curtains to the light of the stars.
I imagined suntanned Greeks debating ‘arete’ and ‘eros’
and especially considered Plato’s archetypes, a sort of
transcendental cookie cutter or mathematical DNA for
the universe. This Plato was an ancient forerunner of
Fascism and also a formidable thinker.
I hear the Buddha was made of different stuff than the
loquacious lot of Greek philosophers; he didn’t feel as if
he had to convince people – if you don’t come to the
right conclusion now, you will later, eventually, in a fu-
ture life, there is no urgency, only the need to instill
compassion. Although, time and two millennia of some-
times weird traditions have flattened the relief of Bud-
dha’s image, but to be fair to the Shakyamuni, whether
he was the narcissistic crybaby I make him to be or was a
more sterling character, this doesn’t mean he entirely
lacked understanding. To keep the show going Granny
Nature is plying us with all kinds of stimulants, which in
the course of aging inevitably, may appear of a merely il-
lusory character. But with a view on how everything
must end, is it not far better to deliberately cultivate
these stimulants and enjoy their benefits, as long as they
last, instead of striking attitudes and working against
them? It may turn life into an enjoyable ride after all.
I remember a painting that depicted Confucius, Buddha
and Lao-tse, tasting vinegar from a vat. All three of them
react differently: Confucius shudders and presses his lips
together with tears in his eyes; Buddha tries not to show
any emotion but can’t help a vindictive ‘told-you-so’
frown, and Lao-tse manages to produce a smile.
We smart-ass Westerners are trained to consider
whose response of the three is actually reflecting the
most authentic perception of what is in the vat, and to
wonder whether that smile of Lao-tse is merely striking
an attitude? The practitioner from the East will answer
with a question of his own: ‘does it really matter?’ Are
there not more important matters to worry about?
You decide for yourself.
As for me I still sleep in the buff, and I still like the
company of women, unlike Plato who was a practicing
pederast and slave driver. Now I read novels and leave
the business of trying “to imagine a pink potato without the
least reference to any you have eaten or will eat” (Vladimir
Nabokov)  to the professionals. Novels offer a more satisfy-
ing form of fiction.
michael sympson (8/18/2011)
 The Origins of Buddhism
Buddhism  Digital Dictionary of Buddhism  Bud-
dhanet.net Buddhist Studies

Shakyamuni Becomes the Buddha

more detailed version
According to one of the several versions of Shakyamuni’s
life, his royal parents were overprotective of their pre-
cious child. Wanting to shelter him from the harsh reali-
ties of life, they insisted he never leave the gates of the
palace compound. Within those gates, they sought to sat-
isfy his every desire. The young Shakyamuni grew into
his teenage years amid this sheltered, luxurious envi-
ronment.
 Curiosity propels people to want what is forbidden, and
the teenage Shakyamuni became increasingly interested
in seeing the world beyond the palace walls. He persuad-
ed a chariot driver to take him out in secret one day, and
they came upon a sick person lying on the ground. The
Buddha-to-be had no conception of sickness, owing to
his sheltered life. So the chariot driver had to explain to
Shakyamuni the nature of sickness. Shakyamuni was
shocked to learn that despite his wealth and high status,
he was not immune from falling ill.
This sight was the first of what are called the “Four
Noble Sights” or simply the “Four Sights.” These sights
served as a wakeup call to Shakyamuni and motivated
him to leave the palace in search of truth. The second
time out with the chariot driver, they came upon an old
man, whose physical strength and vitality were gone. As
in the previous case, Shakyamuni was shocked to realize
that he too was likely to end up in a similarly decrepit
condition. The third time out, they encountered a
corpse, and the driver explained the inevitability of
death. The realization that he would certainly die caused
Sakyamuni to feel his luxurious life in the palace was
pointless. The fourth time out, Sakyamuni saw a wander-
ing holy man, a common sight in India of those days and
even today. The Buddha-to-be realized that it was possi-
ble to face the profound questions connected with life
and death and systematically search for the truth. Even
though he had just been married, he made up his mind
to abandon his life in the palace and take up the path a
of a wandering holy man.
In an act known as the Great Renunciation, Shakya-
muni left the palace one night, never to return (image).
He soon joined a group of wandering ascetics. An ascetic
is one who practices extreme self-denial or self-mortifi-
cation for religious reasons. Asceticism was and is a
prominent theme in the religious life of the Indian sub-
continent (especially Hinduism and Jainism). For six
years, Shakyamuni fasted, exposed himself to the ele-
ments, and meditated. He faced suffering and pain head
on in an attempt to master or conquer it. By now we can
see the major theme in early Buddhism: suffering – its
causes and how to transcend it.
The methods of the ascetics, however, ultimately
proved to be of little benefit. After six years, Shakyamuni
was on the verge of death from self-inflicted starvation
and exposure, but he felt no closer to realizing the truths
of existence and the nature of suffering. He realized that
all those years of effort produced no worthwhile result.
He therefore left the band of wandering ascetics and set
out on his own solitary quest. In this next phase of his
life, he did not indulge his physical or psychological de-
sires, nor did he abuse his body. Shakyamuni called this
path between the extremes of self-mortification and self-
indigence the Middle Way. He continued to meditate,
and three years after taking up the Middle Way, he final-
ly became a buddha. In other words, he finally became
enlightened. (Let us not worry about the precise defini-
tion of enlightenment for the time being. For now, con-
sider it a state of unusually deep spiritual insight.)
The enlightenment came while Sakyamuni was sitting
in meditation under a bodhi tree (“wisdom tree”). At that
time, the soon-to-be-Buddha, faced one last obstacle.
Sensing that he was about to become enlightened, the
demon Mara sent down his agents to attack and upset
Sakyamuni. Among these agents were Mara’s beautiful
daughters, who tried to seduce Sakyamuni. Also, fierce,
sword-wielding demons tried to frighten him. Despite
this assault, however, Sakyamuni remained perfectly
calm. He no longer had any emotional attachment to
such things as sexual desire or self-preservation in the
face of danger. He had become enlightened, and Mara’s
minions could do nothing to reverse the process. They
eventually fled. The attack of Mara and his agents, of
course, should be taken as a metaphor for the constant
pull of emotions and desires that affect the average per-
son. Most people are easily swayed by sexual desire,
fright, the possibility of acquiring material possessions,
desires for comfort, and so forth. It was these things that
the Buddha transcended in the process of becoming en-
lightened. (Linguistic trivia: the word “mara” 魔羅,
named after the Mara discussed here, was once a com-
monly used vulgar term for the male organ in Japanese.
It was originally a term used by Buddhist monks and
then spread broadly through society, though it is no
longer common today.)
For several years after his enlightenment, the Buddha
continued to meditate in silence because he was certain
that the experience of enlightenment was too profound
to communicate to others. Then, one day his former
companions saw him seated under the wisdom tree. It
was obvious from the Buddha’s radiant appearance and
other physical features that he had attained an en-
lightened state. (Later Buddhists would identify thirty-
three physical characteristics of an enlightened being.
We examine them later in the course.) The former com-
panions begged the Buddha for instruction. Moved by a
feeling of compassion for suffering beings, the Buddha
attempted to put his enlightenment experience into
words. In a deer park in northern India, he faced his
former companions and other interested persons and
preached a sermon. This preaching, incidentally, was
the primordial act of skillful means, a topic we take up in
a later chapter.
 The Buddha and a growing band of followers roamed
around the northern parts of the Indian subcontinent. As
the years went by, the Buddha systematized his teach-
ings and established an order of monks dedicated to fol-
lowing his middle path. At age eighty, he died – after eat-
ing contaminated food, according to legend – and en-
tered a state of nirvana, (detail) never again to be re-
born (this concept is explained below). The Buddha’s fol-
lowers continued to practice and develop his teachings.
Remember that this account of the Buddha’s life can-
not be verified, and events like the Four Sights are al-
most certainly fictional. The story of the Buddha’s life,
however, is extremely valuable because it points out the
major issues in early Buddhism: suffering, transcending
desires, and methods for attaining an enlightened state.
And it is also a fundamental part of the literary and
symbolic culture of Buddhist-influenced areas of the
world. We turn now to an examination of early Buddhist
teachings.
 The Dharma: Core Buddhist Teachings
Hindu Background The Four Noble Truths  The Prob-
lem: Our Sense of Self The Eightfold Path

Hindu Background
In the Buddha’s day, several religious traditions existed
on the Indian subcontinent, the most important of which
was Hinduism. Hinduism is a broad term (much like
Christianity) to designate a large number of different but
related systems of religious belief and practice. Hin-
duism is so complex that we cannot possibly do it justice
here. Our concern is simply with a few major tenets of
Hinduism that became a major influence on Buddhism
(List of similarities and differences between Bud-
dhism and Hinduism).
In many of its forms, Hinduism is much concerned with
cycles of creation and destruction. The most important
Hindu deities, for example, are sometimes depicted si-
multaneously destroying and creating. Such deities serve
as symbols of the forces of nature, which both create and
destroy without cease. One creator/destroyer deity is
Shiva, the cosmic dancer (shown here). Shiva is usually
depicted as male, and one of his symbols is the linga
(phallus). But some depictions of Shiva show “him” with
female features or with both male and female features. If
depicted clearly as a male deity, Shiva is often depicted
with a female counterpart. Such images of Shiva empha-
size his role in creation, but Shiva, is also a destroyer.
His cosmic dance takes away life for some while giving it
to others. Other examples of creator/destroyer deities
are Kali and Durga, who are almost always depicted as
female.
Deities like Shiva, Kali, and Durga are concrete repre-
sentations of a key concept in Hinduism and Buddhism:
reincarnation, also called transmigration. As it applies to
sentient beings, when a person or animal dies, its vital
forces become re-embodied and it is born into a new life.
When that life is over, it is reborn again, over and over.
This cycle of reincarnation, called Samsara (image) is
like a prison in which we are trapped. Why? Stated
somewhat crudely, because we can never die and stay
dead. Think about the prospect of never dying – it would
be terrifying for many people.
Samsara is closely connected with karma. In Hinduism,
the word karma has three closely related meanings.
Most basically, it is any mental or physical deed. Karma
is also the consequence of any mental or physical deed,
and by extension, it can also mean the sum of all conse-
quences of a person’s mental and physical deeds in a
past or present life. When speaking of karma in this
third meaning, it is more accurate to use a term like
“karmic situation” or “karmic balance.”
Buddhist conceptions of karma were similar to those of
Hindus. Early Buddhists stressed the role of karma in
powering or driving the process of reincarnation. In this
context, think of karma as energy connected with de-
sires and cravings that seeks re-embodiment after death
(there are other meanings of karma in Buddhist theolo-
gy, but we will not take them up here). People want
things, strive to attain goals, crave certain sensations,
covet certain possessions, yearn for a better life, and so
forth. These wants, strivings, cravings, covetings, and
yearnings are a form of energy. Indeed, they produce
significant, palpable effects: sleeplessness, higher blood
pressure, ulcers, other physiological changes, as well as
behavior such as working overtime, not working (in the
case of coveting short-term ease or comfort), crime,
heroism, and so forth. Our desires and other powerful
emotions, in other words, propel us from one birth to
the next. This concept has a certain intuitive appeal, for
of course it is literally a burst of desire or passion that
causes births.
This idea of karma has several implications. First, it
suggests that our mental and physical deeds in the
present lifetime will have an effect in determining the
nature of our rebirth. In other words, if we reduce the
sum of desires over our lifetime and perform good deeds
(i.e., selfless deeds that benefit others), our karmic bal-
ance will improve (i.e., we will have less karma). Such a
person will be reborn into a better life the next time
around. Conversely, a lifetime of indulging our desires
and performing deeds to satisfy them will accumulate
more karma. Such a person will be reborn into a lower,
more base existence, perhaps as an animal.
Is there any way to get out of the cycle of Samsara?
Yes, but only over the course of many lifetimes, lowering
the karmic balance each time around – at least according
to most forms of Hinduism. When all karma is finally
gone, there is no more energy to drive the cycle of Sam-
sara. In a sense, it runs out of fuel. A person in such a
situation would enter a state called nirvana – a word
that means “to extinguish” – and would not be reborn.
What is nirvana like? Nirvana is so radically different
from the modes of existence we occupy, that words can-
not describe it nor can we even imagine it. But most
Hindus saw Samsara as a living hell or prison. The
chance to escape from it and enter into nirvana, there-
fore is a desirable goal. An important legacy that Bud-
dhism inherited from Hinduism was a generally negative
or pessimistic view of life in this world.
Another Hindu teaching that became an important
part of Buddhism was the doctrine of ahimsa, or not
harming. To cause pain, suffering or death to another
sentient being increases one’s karmic burden or debt.
Notice that karma is perfect justice. To the extent that a
person produces it, that person must, quite literally, live
with it – over multiple of lifetimes if necessary. Most
forms of Hinduism and Buddhism prohibit consuming
the flesh of animals. One should eat only those things
that do not cause death, even to plants. Fruit, therefore,
is a perfect food, since eating it does not harm the plant
from which it came. (Jainism is a religion of India that
takes not harming most seriously. A strict Jain will
sweep the path in front of him with a soft feather duster
as he walks, to avoid stepping on small insects. He will
also wear a gauze mask to prevent accidentally inhaling
small insects. Incidentally, some extremely dedicated
Jains take the quest for reducing karma so seriously that
they stop wearing clothes and even starve themselves to
death.)
The final contribution of Hinduism to Buddhism we ex-
amine here concerns deities. Hinduism contains thou-
sands of greater and lesser deities. As we will see, the
Buddha’s original teachings had nothing to do with
deities or external supernatural forces of any kind. All
religions change over time, however, and as the cen-
turies passed, Buddhism incorporated hundreds of Hin-
du deities into its teachings, art, and iconography. A
large pantheon of deities, therefore, is another impor-
tant Hindu legacy in Buddhism. In the most scholastic,
abstract teachings of Hindu theology, deities do not ac-
tually exist. The purpose of deities and their representa-
tions in Hinduism is to assist those at lower levels of
comprehension by providing concrete images of various
religious truths. As we shall see when studying the doc-
trine of Skillful Means, this understanding of deities also
became the (Mahayana) Buddhist view.
The Four Noble Truths
The basic teaching of the Buddha is called the Dharma, a
term that also has other meanings in Buddhist theology
that need not concern us here. The symbol of the Dhar-
ma is a wheel, particularly one with eight spokes. The
core of the Dharma consists of two parts: the Four Noble
Truths and the Eightfold Path. The Four Noble Truths
summarize the Buddha’s insight into the nature of reali-
ty and human existence. The Eightfold Path is a method,
a series of steps, by which a person can retrace the Bud-
dha’s own quest for enlightenment.
Recall the context of the Buddha’s first sermon, at least
according to legend. After his former companions
begged him to communicate his enlightenment experi-
ence, the Buddha did so, or at least attempted to do so,
out of compassion for their suffering. He called his
teaching the “Middle Way.”4 The audience to whom the
Buddha preached consisted of religious seekers, and
most English translations of the first sermon refer to
them as “monks.” The sermon began with an explana-
tion of the Middle Way:
These two extremes, O monks, are not to be practiced
by one who has gone forth from the world. What are the
two? That conjoined with passions, low, vulgar, com-
mon, ignoble, and useless, and that conjoined with self-
torture, painful, ignoble, and useless. Avoiding these two
extremes, [the enlightened one] has gained the knowl-
edge of the Middle Way, which gives sight and knowl-
edge, and tends to calm, to insight, enlightenment, nir-
vana.5
Having explained the general principle of avoiding ex-
tremes, the Buddha then got to the heart of the matter:
his insights into the condition of human existence. He
continued:
This, O monks is the Middle Way: . . .
(1) Now this, O monks, is the noble truth of pain: birth
is painful, old age is painful, sickness is painful, death is
painful, sorrow, lamentation, dejection, and despair are
painful. Contact with unpleasant things is painful, not
getting what one wishes is painful. In short the five
skandhas of grasping [form, sensation, conception, voli-
tion, and consciousness – see discussion below] are
painful.
(2) Now this, O monks is the noble truth of the cause of
pain: that craving which leads to rebirth [note the dis-
cussion of karma above], combined with pleasure and
lust, finding pleasure here and there, namely, the crav-
ing for passion, the craving for existence, the craving for
non-existence.
(3) Now this, O monks, is the noble truth of the cessa-
tion of pain: the cessation without a remainder of that
craving, [namely,] abandonment, forsaking, release,
non-attachment.
(4) Now this, O monks, is the noble truth of the way
that leads to the cessation of pain: this is the noble
Eightfold Path, namely, right views, right intention,
right speech, right action, right livelihood, right endeav-
or, right mindfulness, right concentration. . . .
Knowledge arose in me; insight arose that the release
of my mind is unshakable; this is my last existence; now
there is no rebirth.6
All around us are things we do not have. Most of us, for
example, do not have a Rolls Royce car, and yet few suf-
fer because of this lack. Not having something, in other
words, does not itself cause us to suffer. It is the desire to
have what we do not that causes us to suffer. The Bud-
dha concluded not that life contains suffering (which
would hardly have been insightful), but that suffering is
so integral to human life that for all practical purposes,
life is suffering. To put an end to the suffering, we must
put an end to desires. If we succeed in eliminating all de-
sires, then we also eliminate life as we know it. The re-
sult is a state called nirvana, in which one loses all sense
of self and merges with the cosmos. Entering nirvana is
the ultimate goal of most forms of Buddhism.
Some would object to the Buddha’s formulation by
suggesting that people simply satisfy our desires, which
would prevent the suffering associated with them. This
“solution,” however only makes things worse in the long
run. Lesser desires, when apparently satisfied, actually
produce greater desires – the starting assumption of
economics. The person without any car at all might be
delighted with an old, used one. Soon, however, the car
loses its appeal and the desire for a new one wells up.
Having saved and sacrificed for the new car, the desire
for a better model rears its ugly head. It is such a person
who would eventually suffer by lacking a Rolls Royce.
Vain attempts to eliminate suffering by “satisfying” de-
sires only creates stronger desires and thus worse suffer-
ing.
 Writing circa 1942, psychologist Erich Fromm address-
es this matter in a way that echoes basic Buddhist teach-
ings:
. . . modern man seems, if anything, to have too many
wishes and his only problem seems to be that, although
he knows what he wants, he cannot have it. All our ener-
gy is spent for the purpose of getting what we want, and
most people never question the premise of this activity:
that they know their true wants. They do not stop to
think whether the aims they are pursuing are something
they themselves want. In school they want to have good
marks, as adults they want to be more and more success-
ful, to make more money, to have more prestige, to buy a
better car, to go places, and so on. Yet when they do stop
to think in the midst of all this frantic activity, this ques-
tion may come to their minds: “If I do get this new job, if
I get this better car, if I can take this trip—then what?
What is the use of it all? Is it really I who want this? Am I
not running after some goal which is supposed to make
me happy and which eludes me as soon as I have reached
it?” These questions, when they arise, are frightening,
for they question the very basis on which man’s whole
activity is built, his knowledge of what he wants. People
tend, therefore, to get rid as soon as possible of these
disturbing thoughts. They feel that they have been both-
ered by these questions because they were tired or de-
pressed—and they go on in pursuit of the aims which
they believe are their own.
Yet all this bespeaks a dim realization of the truth—the
truth that modern man lives under the illusion that he
knows what he wants, while he actually wants what he is
supposed to want. In order to accept this it is necessary
to realize that to know what one really wants is not
comparatively easy, as most people think, but one of the
most difficult problems any human being has to solve. It
is a task we frantically try to avoid by accepting ready-
made goals as thought they were our own. Modern man
is ready to take great risks when he tries to achieve the
aims which are supposed to be “his”; but he is deeply
afraid of taking the risk and the responsibility of giving
himself his own aims. . . . (Erich Fromm, The Fear of
Freedom [New York: Routledge, 1991, 1995]. First
Published in Great Britain in 1942 as Escape from
Freedom, pp. 217-218.)
Notice that Fromm’s emphasis on our lack of de facto
autonomy. After all most of us go through life with our
wants and desires dictated to us by social expectations,
and we chase after them with vigor. Even if we vaguely
recognize the folly of our ways late in life, we dare not
admit to having wasted so many years and so much ef-
fort. And, in any event, as parents (for most people, at
least), we have already worked hard to foster this same
mentality in our offspring. Although classical Buddhist
teachings about desires address the matter in slightly
different terms and from a completely different meta-
physical basis, in practice, the Buddhist  message is es-
sentially the same as Fromm’s: Wake up! Look deep in-
side yourself and do the hard work of understanding
who you really are! Cast aside the illusions with which
society has encumbered you!
The Buddha preached his sermon to persons who al-
ready possessed sophisticated religious knowledge and
experience. He and his audience shared many common
assumptions. Therefore, prior to examining the Eight-
fold path, we should survey the most important of these
assumptions.
The Problem: Our Sense of Self
We have seen that desires cause suffering, but to elimi-
nate desires, we must first understand their source.
What causes desires? From where do they originate? The
basic answer is our sense of existence as a distinct indi-
vidual, in other words, our sense of self. Nirvana is the
complete absence of this sense of self. Without any sense
of self whatsoever, a person cannot exist as a distinct in-
dividual. In our present state of self-ish existence, nir-
vana is inconceivable. But suffering is easily conceivable,
and characterizing nirvana as the complete absence of
suffering or liberation from suffering made its attain-
ment an appealing goal to many in ancient India and
elsewhere.
If the sense of self is the source of desires that make
our lives constant suffering, we must inquire into what
constitutes this sense of self. What makes the thought “I
am” seem natural, obvious, and unproblematic? Accord-
ing to basic Buddhist teaching, it is the “Five
Heaps” (also called the “Five Aggregates”) (1) matter or
form; (2) sensation or perception; (3) conception; (4) vo-
lition; and (5) consciousness. The teaching that the Five
Heaps constitutes our sense of self is extremely difficult
to comprehend because it is so foreign to our
common-”sensical” feeling that “of course, I am, I really
am.” One introductory text on Buddhism explains the
matter as follows:
One of the most central of Buddhist ideas is that there
is no self. The sense of self that we naively cling to is
seen by the naked eye of meditation to be only a tenu-
ous, ever-shifting amalgam of psychological elements,
known traditionally as the five skandhas, or “heaps.” . . .
A key point is duality, which arises at the first skandha,
form. Duality is a description for the most basic charac-
teristic of the confused world of ego, the rudimentary
building block of the suffering world of samsara.7
 Notice the phrase “seen by the naked eye of medita-
tion.” Buddhist practice relies on various techniques of
meditation, which, if practiced diligently over many
years, enable practitioners to see themselves and their
world in radically different ways. To really understand
the Five Heaps, would require years of effort. Neverthe-
less, let us attempt to summarize them in relatively sim-
ple terms.
The first heap, “form,” is a state of ignorance. For some
reason (and I have yet to see a clear explanation given –
it seems an article of faith), humans began to notice that
the world around them was separate from themselves. It
really was not separate, but people nevertheless began
to notice forms distinct from themselves instead of un-
differentiated, open space.
Having made the mistake of seeing the surrounding
world as something separate, people defensively seek to
preserve this incorrect vision. They do so by trying to
experience that separate world through sensory percep-
tions. “So we begin to reach out and feel the qualities of ‘
other.’ By doing this we reassure ourselves that we ex-
ist.”8 Feeling is the second heap.
Fascinated with what the senses have created, people
seek to explore it further, resulting in the third heap of
conception. People create categories, distinctions, and
theories to explain their differentiated world. They re-
ceive information from “outside” themselves and react
to it on the basis of these categories, distinctions, and
theories.
The fourth heap, volition, is much like the third. The
major difference is that the third is a passive process,
the result of reacting to incoming information. In the
fourth heap, the process becomes active. Human agents
volitionally seek to name, classify and categorize all exis-
tence. People become obsessed with attaching names to
the artificial realities they have created.
Consciousness, the fifth heap, is the culmination of the
previous four to produce the thoughts and emotions that
for most people define their individual identities and
their world views. At this stage, “we find the six realms
[see Chapter 4] as well as the uncontrollable and illogical
patterns of discursive thought.”9 At this point, desires
connected with the false sense of self feed on each other,
making life constant suffering and, as karma, propelling
us from one existence into another.
Human actions continually reaffirm the false sense of
self. Language is the ultimate tool for affirming the arti-
ficial world of names, categories and distinctions, mak-
ing it seem obvious and real, and blocking out any possi-
bility of perceiving the undifferentiated unity that exists
prior to the Five Heaps. The nonstop internal conversa-
tion most people carry on inside their heads while awake
may be the single greatest obstacle to enlightenment.
Let us pause to look at the broader picture, the context
in which the Five Heaps play a key role. Here is how the
universe works according to basic Buddhist teaching as
explained in an introductory book: “For the Buddhist,
the universe is a place of delusion and suffering, in
which living beings – who are, if they but knew it, mere
collections of “aggregates” [=heaps], forever fickle and
changing – are condemned by their passions [=desires] to
an endless cycle of rebirths.”10 By way of a summary,
what follows is part of the text of the Buddha’s sermon
on dependent origination (the idea that what seems
permanent and “real” is but the product of sensory cre-
ation, one thing creating another without stop). Notice
as you read through it that the excerpt covers nearly
every major point made thus far in the chapter:

On ignorance depends karma;

On karma depends consciousness;
On consciousness depends name and form;
On name and form depend the six organs of sense;
On the six organs of sense depends contact;
On contact depends sensation;
On sensation depends desire;
On attachment depends existence;
On existence depends birth; On birth depend old age and death,
sorrow, lamentation, misery, grief, and despair. Thus does the
entire aggregation of misery arise.11

Having surveyed what Buddhists (and many Hindus as

well) consider the major problems with human con-
sciousness and existence, let us now turn to the Bud-
dha’s proposed solution.

The Eightfold Path

The Eightfold Path is often symbolized by the eight
spokes of a wheel. Its ultimate goal is to lead to a person
to enlightenment. While it may be possible for someone
to accomplish all eight steps in one lifetime, most people
will make slow progress over many lifetimes. In this sce-
nario, the improved karmic state in each round leads to
a better rebirth, which sets the stage for further
progress. (The Buddha himself, according to legend,
went through numerous past lives before his attainment
of nirvana. Stories of events in these past lives (especial-
ly the Jataka Tales) serve as Buddhist parables to teach
good behavior.) The Eightfold Path is not something that
one can normally accomplish quickly or easily. We con-
sider it here one step at a time. (more detailed text)
1. Right views is to know suffering, the origin of suffer-
ing, the cessation of suffering, and the path that leads to
the cessation of suffering.
The first step, in other words, is to know and accept
the Four Noble Truths. This may sound easy, but how
many of you reading this now genuinely accept the as-
sertion that life is suffering as a fundamental truth?
Even for those living in a cultural environment influ-
enced by Buddhism, the Four Noble Truths are difficult
for many to accept as truths. Indeed, in all religions,
there are often many who mouth the official doctrine,
but far fewer who genuinely take it to heart.
One aspect of the Four Noble Truths that we have not
stressed sufficiently thus far is impermanence. The phe-
nomena of this world are transient and fleeting, here to-
day gone tomorrow. So, too, are we. The world we can
perceive is temporary, yet people strive and strain in a
futile effort to make it permanent. Most people live their
lives as if they will never die – an absurd delusion ac-
cording to Buddhist teaching.
2. Right resolve is the resolve to renounce the world
and to do no hurt or harm.
 Once a person accepts the Four Noble Truths as truths,
the next step toward enlightenment is to resolve to act
on that realization. Renouncing the world is to reject
what sense of self has created. Doing so, however, is eas-
ier said than done. An initial step in the right direction is
to do no additional harm to self or others. Take some
simple, concrete steps. Stop eating meat, for example,
cancel those subscriptions to Playboy and Playgirl, and
refrain from anger the next time an obnoxious driver
nearly runs you off the road. Do not make the suffering
of life any worse for anyone.
3. Right speech is to abstain from lies and slander, from
reviling, and from gossip.
Because the act of talking is so influential in defining
the human world, it should receive attention early on.
Step three is a more specific case of step two: do not in-
crease the suffering of anyone, including yourself, by
what you say. Is this possible? Could a person completely
refrain from gossip, for example? Although rare, we
could find someone whose speech does no harm. Step
number three, while difficult, is still within the realm of
the possible without going through any special or ex-
traordinary training.
4. Right action is to abstain from taking life, from steal-
ing, and from lechery.
 This one seems straightforward. Regarding the first
item, hunters should certainly find something better to
do, and we should not go out and commit murder – but
there is more. Have you ever consumed the flesh of a
once-living creature? How many insects have you killed,
accidentally or otherwise? And what about that mouse-
trap in the garage and the fly swatter on the windowsill?
When measured against strict Buddhist standards, most
of us would appear to be mass murderers. To what ex-
tent might we also be thieves and lechers?
5. Right livelihood is that by which the disciple of the
Noble One supports himself, to the exclusion of wrong
modes of livelihood.
Notice that this step pertains to “the disciple of the
Noble One.” The phrase probably refers to one who has
taken formal Buddhist vows, though not at the level of a
monk. Such a person lives in the community but has
dedicated his life to the pursuit of the Buddhist path.
Naturally, such a person must engage in the proper
means of making a living, namely, doing work of benefit
to others. Were the Buddha transported across time and
placed into today’s world, which occupations might be
acceptable and which ones not? By what criteria would
he decide (hint: think of the Four Noble Truths)? Which
present-day occupation would be most opposed to the
Buddha’s basic teachings?
 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
6. Right endeavor is when a monk brings his will to
bear, puts forth endeavor and energy, struggles and
strives with all his heart to stop bad and wrong qualities
that have not yet arisen from ever arising, to renounce
those that have already arisen, and, finally, to establish,
clarify, multiply, enlarge, develop, and perfect those
good qualities already present.
This portion of the path explains the initial goal of
meditation for monks. A monk is one who lives apart
from the broader community in austere conditions to
pursue the quest for enlightenment full time. Stage six,
therefore, indicates a major step up in commitment and
seriousness. There is no explicit mention of meditation
here, but for the Buddha’s audience, that meditation was
the primary technique for attaining enlightenment
would have been obvious.
What are some of the basic procedures and goals in
meditation? Meditation is a form of introspective con-
templation. One begins a session of meditation by sitting
in the correct posture (there are several possibilities),
always with the back held perfectly straight. For the
uninitiated, just the posture alone becomes quite painful
within a few minutes. More difficult is shutting off the
internal conversation. The constant banter inside our
heads has at least two undesirable effects. First, it con-
stantly re-affirms the false sense of separate self. Second,
it serves as a barrier to true introspection. In other
words, the intra-cranial chatter prevents comprehend-
ing the true character of our minds. The first and most
important step in meditation, therefore, is stopping the
internal conversation. Try doing so for just one minute.
To most people, stopping this conversation seems im-
possible, so accustomed we have grown to it. The ability
to stop the internal conversation may take years to ac-
quire, and there are numerous techniques to assist in
this task. One of the most basic is focusing all attention
on the rhythmic inward and outward flow of the breath.
Merging one’s full attention into this tide-like movement
and becoming one with it is a tried and proven method
for suspending the internal conversation. There are oth-
er concentration and visualization techniques in medita-
tion, which me may have a chance to examine later.
Upon successful at suspension of the internal conversa-
tion, the meditator gains great insight into his or her
mental states and feelings owing to an acute awareness
of sensory perceptions and sensations as they first begin
to form deep within the mind. Like buds on a plant,
should any of these perceptions or sensations be im-
proper (a feeling of anger, for example), the meditator
can nip it at the bud before it becomes fully manifest.
Proper perceptions and sensations, on the other hand
(like a feeling of compassion) are allowed to become fully
manifest. In this way, a monk can purify his thoughts
and feelings, making them wholly good. (The average
person, head full of chatter, is unaware of these percep-
tions and sensations until they have become fully mani-
fest. At that point, it is too late to do anything about
them.)
7. Right mindfulness is when, realizing what the body is
– what feelings are – what the heart is – and what the
mental states are – a monk dwells ardent, alert, and
mindful, in freedom from the wants and discontents at-
tendant on any of these things.
This stage builds upon the previous one. Notice that in
number six, a monk actively strives and makes effort.
That effort having had its effect, in stage seven, a monk
ceases to strive. He has realized the truth about his own
mental states, feelings, etcetera, and they no longer have
any hold on him. His body may have gone without food
for a long time, for example, and the monk knows that
the feeling of hunger is present, but this feeling no
longer causes him to desire to eat. A person at this stage
is no longer a slave to the desires of his or her body and
mind.
8. Right [rapture of] concentration is when, divested of
lusts and divested of wrong dispositions, a monk devel-
ops and dwells in the first ecstasy with all its zest and
satisfaction, a state bred of aloofness and not divorced
from observation and reflection. By laying to rest obser-
vation and reflection, he develops and dwells in inward
serenity, in [the] focusing of heart, in the zest and satis-
faction of the second ecstasy, which is divorced from ob-
servation and reflection and is bred of concentration –
passing thence to the third and fourth ecstasies.
This final stage is subdivided in to four “ecstasies,” the
last two of which are so profound that words cannot de-
scribe them. In the first ecstasy, a monk is entirely aloof
from his former mental states and modes of perception,
though he is still able to observe and reflect on them.
Here, observation and reflection are his last link with
the “ordinary” world. Finally, he abandons even these,
which sets in motion a process that ends in enlighten-
ment.
Notice several important characteristics of this Eight-
fold Path. First, it is a stepwise progression, starting with
relatively easy (if still difficult) tasks that become in-
creasingly more demanding. Second, this is an arduous
path, even in its early stages. Third, following the Eight-
fold Path is a personal quest. There is no superior being
on whom to rely or to provide guidance, and there are
no deities (deities come into Buddhism after it developed
into a formal religion). The locus of the power to find en-
lightenment is within each person.
This concludes our survey of the basic teachings of the
original Buddha. The next chapter looks at the develop-
ment of Buddhism as a formal religion and social institu-
tion.

Notes:
1. Antonia Levi, Samurai from Outer Space: Understanding Ja-
panese Animation (Chicago: Open Court, 1996), pp. 107-8.
2. Ibid., p. 108.
3. There are numerous conflicting theories of the Buddha’s termi-
nal dates. Scholars of Buddhism have proposed 565-486 BCE,
463-383 BCE, and 624-544 BCE, and other dates. I recommend sim-
ply remembering 500 BCE as the approximate time of Shakyamu-
ni’s life.
4. The term “Middle Way” here does not mean the avoidance of
extremes. Instead, it indicates the Buddhist idea of non-duality,
i.e., the principle of reality that lies beyond existence and non-ex-
istence. More concretely, the “Middle Way” gradually liberates a
person from the sense of “I” as an individuated self. See the dis-
cussion of the Five Heaps for more on this point.
5. Quoted in Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan and Charles A. Moore, eds.,
A Sourcebook in Indian Philosophy (Princeton: Princeton Univer-
sity Press, 1957), p. 274.
6. Quoted in Ibid., pp. 274-75.
7. Samuel Bercholz and Sherab Chödzin Kohn, eds., Entering the
Stream: An Introduction to the Buddha and His Teachings (Boston:
Shambala, 1993), p. 73.
8. Ibid., p. 77, words of Chögyam Trungpa.
9. Ibid., p. 79.
10. Heinz Bechert and Richard Gombrick, eds., The World of Bud-
dhism: Buddhist Monks and Nuns in Society and Culture (London:
Thames and Hudson, 1984), p. 28.
11. Radhakrishnan and Moore, Indian Philosophy, p. 278.
12. Based on Ibid., pp. 277-78, but with minor modification
 The Growth of Buddhism & its
Spread to East Asia
Buddhism  Digital Dictionary of Buddhism  Bud-
dhanet.net  Buddhist Studies

We should distinguish between Buddhism and the Bud-

dha. Although there is obviously a connection between
the two, with the passing of time, Buddhism evolved well
beyond the teachings of a single enlightened person in
ancient India/Nepal. It developed a formal organization-
al structure, with grades of monks and a hierarchy of
temples. Detailed rules developed to govern this organi-
zation. In the realm of ideas, Buddhism developed a wide
variety of doctrines and theological teachings, as well as
a vast body of scripture. Distinctively Buddhist art and
architecture emerged, first in India and later throughout
Asia. Buddhism spread far and wide, traveling north,
south and east from the Indian subcontinent. As Bud-
dhism grew, it also splintered, first into two main divi-
sions and then into hundreds of subdivisions. Although
it began as a religion that rejected the world of ordinary
human affairs, as an institution, Buddhism had a great
influence on societies throughout Asia. It became a ma-
jor cultural force, affecting art, literature and ideas. It
also became a major political force. The armed bands of
warrior monks, for example, who sometimes descended
from their temples in twelfth-century Japan to intimi-
date the emperor in the hope of gaining economic con-
cessions may seem far removed indeed from the Four
Noble Truths. Of course, all religions change as the cen-
turies go by, and Buddhism was no exception. Here we
examine certain developments in Buddhism to contex-
tualize its influence on medieval Japan.

The Monastic Order

In its earliest days, the formal organizational structure
of Buddhism consisted of three major divisions, which
soon became known as the “Three Jewels” 三寶 or the
“Three Treasures:” (1) the Buddha, (2) the Dharma (pri-
marily, the Buddha’s teachings), and (3) the followers of
his teachings, called the sangha (“community”). The
term sangha has two meanings. Broadly speaking, it in-
cludes anyone dedicated to the pursuit of Buddhist en-
lightenment. More narrowly, the sangha consists of
those who have taken religious vows, namely monks,
nuns, and novices. A novice is an apprentice to a monk
or nun, who has committed to following ten rules of
conduct: (1) refraining from killing, (2) not taking what
is not given, (3) refraining from prohibited sexual activi-
ty, (4) refraining from unjust speech, (5) abstaining from
intoxicating drinks, (6) abstaining from solid food after
noon, (7) avoiding music, dance, plays, and other enter-
tainment, (8) abstaining from the use of perfumes and
ornamental jewelry, (9) refraining from sleeping in high,
soft beds, and (10) refraining from contact with money
and other valuables. The typical novice entered monastic
service because his or her parents required it, often ow-
ing to poverty. Novices were usually servants of monks
or nuns. By performing routine labor, novices permitted
the monks or nuns more time to meditate and study.
Upon reaching a certain age, those who had performed
their duties as novices with satisfaction would be eligible
to take the vows of a monk. The main activities of a
monk were meditation, study of the Dharma and teach-
ing the Dharma (an example). Monks vowed to renounce
the ordinary world to live lives of poverty, celibacy, and
peacefulness. In early Buddhism, monks wandered from
place to place, but soon after the Buddha’s death, many
began to reside in permanent monasteries. A monk’s
clothing should be made from rags, and his possessions
are limited to a few simple items of daily life. Monks ate
only vegetarian food, ate only what others provide, and
kept their heads shaved. In early Buddhism, the only
medicine allowed monks was the urine of animals. Over
250 specific rules governed the activities of monks.
The following excerpts from early Buddhist texts de-
scribe some of these rules. Four rules about offenses so
grave as to warrant expulsion from the monastic com-
munity:
1. If a monk should have sexual intercourse with anyone
[in the community of monks? – see 3 of the 13 offenses
below], down to an animal, this monk has fallen into an
offense which deserves expulsion, and he should no
longer live in the community. . . .
2. If a monk, whether he dwells in a village or in solitude,
should take anything not given, he should no longer live
in the community. . . .
3. If a monks should intentionally take the life of a hu-
man being or of one like a human being, with his own
hand, or with a knife, or by having him assassinated,
then he has fallen into an offense which deserves expul-
sion. And this applies also to a monk who incites others
to self-destruction, and who speaks to them in praise of
death, with such words as, ‘ O man, what is the use to
you of this miserable life? It is better for you to die than
be alive.’
4. [certain types of lies]1
There are an additional thirteen grave offenses that war-
rant suspension:
1. Intentionally to emit his semen, except in a dream.
2. With a mind excited and perverted by passion to come
into bodily contact with a woman; he must not hold her
hand or arm, touch her hair or any other part of her
body, above or below, or rub or caress it.
3. With a mind excited and perverted by passion to per-
suade a woman to sexual intercourse, speaking wicked,
evil, and vulgar words, as young men might use to their
girls.
4. With a mind excited and perverted by passion, in the
presence of a woman to speak highly of the merit of the
gift of her own body, saying: ‘ That is the supreme ser-
vice or gift, dear sister, to offer intercourse to monks
like us, who have been observing strict morality, have
abstained from intercourse and lived lonely lives!’
5. To act as a go-between for women and men, arranging
marriage, adultery, or even a brief meeting.
6. To build for himself, without the help of a layman, a
temporary hut on a site which involves the destruction
of living beings and has no open space round it, and that
without showing this site to other monks, and without
limiting its size to the prescribed measurements.
7. To build for himself, with the help of a layman, a more
permanent living place on a dangerous and inaccessible
site, which involves the destruction of living beings and
has no open space round it, and that without showing
the site to other monks.
8. From anger, malice, and dislike to accuse falsely a
pure and faultless monk of an offense which deserves
expulsion, intent on driving him out of the religious life.
That becomes an offense which deserves suspension if
on a later occasion he withdraws his accusation, and
admits to having spoken from hatred; and likewise if . . .
9. . . . He tries to base his false accusation on some tri-
fling matter or other which is really quite irrelevant.
10. To persist, in spite of repeated admonitions, in trying
to cause divisions in a community which lives in harmo-
ny, and in emphasizing those points which are calculat-
ed to cause division.
11. To side with a monk who strives to split the commu-
nity.
12. To refuse to move into another district when re-
proved by the other monks for habitually doing evil
deeds in a city or village where he resides, deeds which
are seen, heard, and known, and which harm the fami-
lies of the faithful. . . .
13. To refuse to be admonished by others about the non-
observance of [these] Pratimoksha rules.2
These offenses seem concerned with three main areas:
sex, comfort, and human relations within the communi-
ty of monks. They provide insight into the temptations
of the time, which have a surprisingly contemporary fla-
vor. The other 200 plus rules are much more specific. For
example, prohibition number 85: “to have a chair or bed
made with legs higher than eight inches.”3 It is impor-
tant to note that many monks did not live up to their
vows. Indeed, in certain times and places, becoming a
Buddhist monk was a way to get ahead in worldly mat-
ters. During one period of Japan’s history, for example,
emperors became monks and retired to well-fortified
Buddhist temples in order fully to exercise their political
power.
Having looked at the life of monks in negative terms,
that is, the various prohibitions, let us turn to a more
positive description. The following are a series of verses
about the monk’s life allegedly spoken by the Buddha to
one of his disciples:

The monk alert, rapt farer on the edge,

Should have no fear of these five fears:
Gadflies and stinging bees and things that creep,
Attacks of men and of four-footed beasts.
Nor should he be afraid of others’ views,
When the great perils of them he hath seen;
So should the expert seeker overcome
All other troubles that may here befall.
When stricken by disease or hunger’s pangs,
Cold and excessive heat should he endure;
When stricken sore by them, that homeless man
Must stir up energy and strive with strength.
Let him not steal nor let him tell a lie,
Let him show amity to weak and strong;
And when he knows disquiet of the mind,
Let him expel that as dark Mara’s gloom.
(Question: to what does this line about Mara refer?)
Nor must he fall a prey to wrath and pride,
But digging up their roots, let him stay poised;
And, as he wrestles, let him overcome
All that is dear to him, all that repels.
With joy in what is lovely, wisdom-led,
Let him then put to flight these troubles here,
Conquer dislike for his lone lodging place,
Conquer the four that cause him discontent: [. . .]

Ideally, a monk was one who, by living a life of renun-

ciation and strict discipline, conquers his desires and at-
tains enlightenment.
What about nuns? Early Buddhism would have won no
points for political correctness by today’s standards. Like
many Hindus, most Buddhists regarded women as cate-
gorically lower beings than men. In other words, the
highest sort of woman who lived a good life and reduced
her karmic balance, would be reborn as the lowest sort
of man. The goal of nuns, therefore, was not nirvana.
The best they could hope for was to be reborn as a man.
The Buddha himself did not advocate including women
in the community of religious practitioners, for he
though it would lead to moral decay. It was, at least ac-
cording to legend, the Buddha’s stepmother who first
created an order of nuns (nuns in China). Incidentally,
Buddhism has always been highly flexible and adaptable.
Today, therefore, many Buddhist organizations claim no
difference in the inherent spiritual status or abilities of
men and women.
 Back in ancient India, however, nuns lived similar lives
to those of monks, but the rules were even more strict.
Nuns were always subordinate to monks in the hierarchy
of Buddhist communities, the most superior nun being
required to bow down to the youngest monk. Compared
with monks, the number of nuns in Buddhism was never
great. It is only recently that women have begun to play
a large role in Buddhism in some parts of the world. As
mentioned above, most modern Buddhist theologians
see nothing dependent on sex or gender in the Four No-
ble Truths and the Eightfold Path. In theory, they apply
equally to women and men, but, in practice, Buddhism as
a formal social institution has been mainly a man’s
world.

Major Varieties of Buddhism

Recall that enlightenment cannot be described in words.
Although the Buddha himself had become enlightened,
not even he was able to enlighten others. All he could do
was set them in the right direction. The personal
charisma of the Buddha after he became enlightened at-
tracted followers. After his death, however, these fol-
lowers did not always agree on their master’s teachings.
A few months after the Buddha died, his disciples assem-
bled the First Buddhist Council (the traditional tale). The
purpose of this assembly was to establish a formal
canon, true to the Buddha’s teachings. A Second Bud-
dhist Council convened a century later in another effort
to unify Buddhist teachings. The participants in this
council also compiled a biography of the Buddha. Soon
after the Second Council, the Sangha split up over dis-
agreements regarding issues of doctrine, canonical texts,
and monastic discipline – the specifics of which need not
concern us here.
At this time, Buddhism split into two major varieties:
Mahayana and Theravada. Theravada means “Teaching
of the Elders,” and, at least according to the claims of
Theravadins, remained closest to the teachings of the
original Buddha. Theravada Buddhism stressed libera-
tion of the individual by retracing the steps Shakyamuni
had walked. Geographically, Theravada spread to south-
ern India and across the sea to Southeast Asia. Today, it
thrives in places such as Sri Lanka, Burma, and Thailand.
Because Theravada Buddhism had little influence on East
Asia, we do not deal with it in this course.
Mahayana means “Great Vehicle,” a name that reflects
its claim of having something for everyone. The highest
ideal in Mahayana Buddhism was not individual enlight-
enment but enlightenment for everyone. The embodi-
ment of this Mahayana ideal was the bodhisattva. A bod-
hisattva is one who has eliminated all desires and is
therefore eligible to pass into nirvana. Out of a feeling of
compassion for the millions of other suffering creatures,
however, the bodhisattva withholds his/her/its entry
into nirvana to remain in this world and help others. The
various bodhisattvas have taken vows to remain in this
world until all creatures are ready to enter nirvana. They
may have to wait a long time! Some textbooks liken bod-
hisattvas to Christian saints, but there are significant
differences in the theory behind each. In practice, how-
ever, the two types of beings have much in common as
objects of prayers and ritual devotion.
Mahayana Buddhism developed a wide variety of in-
structional techniques intended to reach people at all
walks of life. Indeed, with its many parables, symbols,
diagrams, esoteric rites, meditation aids and so forth,
Mahayana Buddhism may have been the most pedagogi-
cally sophisticated form of religion in the world. It was
also highly flexible and adaptable and spread rapidly
throughout Central and East Asia. The core doctrine of
Mahayana Buddhism is Skillful Means, which we exam-
ine in the next chapter (it is so important that you might
want to click this link and read the short article
anyway).
I do not want to leave the impression that Mahayana
Buddhism is one, unified entity. The division between
Mahayana and Theravada is roughly comparable to the
divisions like Catholic vs. Protestant or Roman Catholic
vs. Eastern Orthodox in Christianity. Just as there are
many denominations of Protestant Christianity, so too
are there many denominations of Mahayana Buddhism, a
few of which (although it may seem like “many of
which”) we examine throughout HIST 480.
Mahayana Buddhism made extensive use of various
Hindu deities. Some became bodhisattvas; others became
lesser divinities. As we see in the next chapter, deities
can be useful in Mahayana teaching and practice as in-
spirational symbols of desirable virtues or as objects of
veneration to help train the mind. At the highest levels
of understanding, there are no deities external to one’s
self (because, among other things, there is no self). For
people at lower levels of understanding, however, deities
can play a useful role in progress toward enlightenment.
Another development associated with Mahayana Bud-
dhism was a theory of stages and cycles concerning the
appearance of Buddhas in the world and the status of
their teaching. In this theory Shakyamuni was only the
most recent of a whole series of Buddhas that had ap-
peared on earth at regular intervals. The Dharma, or
Buddhist teaching, goes through three phases, which to-
gether constitute one full cycle. Specifically, 500 years
after the Buddha’s death (or, 1000 years in a competing
version of the theory) is the period of the True Dharma.
During this time, the Buddha’s teaching is properly prac-
ticed, and the attainment of enlightenment is possible.
Next comes a period of the Semblance Dharma, which
lasts 1000 years (or, 500 years in a competing version of
the theory). In this stage, people practice the Buddha’s
teachings, but they only go through the motions without
true understanding making enlightenment impossible.
In the final stage, the Last or Final Dharma, which lasts
10,000 years, the teaching exists, but nobody practices it,
even if only going through the motions. This stage is a
time of misery and suffering on a vast scale, at the end of
which, a new Buddha appears and a new three-stage cy-
cle begins. There were other Buddhas before Shakyamu-
ni and there will be others after him. This theory caused
great anxiety in Japan during medieval times starting in
the late Heian period because many feared that the
world was about to enter stage three, the period of the
Last Dharma. The most common Japanese term for this
final stage is mappō, and we will return to this topic in
subsequent chapters.

Japanese Buddhism
From China, Buddhism spread to Korea and then Japan.
By the time Buddhism got to Japan, it was approximately
1000 years old and had changed much since the days of
its founder. Although, as we have seen, Buddhism en-
countered some resistance when it first arrived in Japan,
this resistance was not rooted in deep-seated cultural bi-
ases as was the case with Buddhism in China. Buddhism
merged with native Japanese forms of religion in an al-
most seamless web. The basic formula was that native
Japanese deities were local manifestations of Buddhas or
lesser Buddhist deities. Brace yourselves – we’ ll be delv-
ing into this matter in some detail as the course goes on.
It is interesting and significant that, unlike China, Bud-
dhism was rarely ever attacked in Japan as being “for-
eign” until the late 1860s. This modern attack on Bud-
dhism marks a key turning point in the development of
nationalist thinking in Japan, a topic we usually examine
in depth in HIST 481, Modern Japan.
Before examining the specifics of Buddhism in Japan,
there is one more large topic we need to examine about
Buddhism in general: the Six Courses (rokudō 六道) and
matters related to it (classic image). It is a topic we will
see much more of as we examine medieval Japan.

Notes:
1. Quoted in Edward Conze, trans., Buddhist Scriptures (New York:
Penguin Books, 1959), pp. 73-74.
2. Quoted in Ibid., pp. 74-76.
3. Ibid., p. 77.
4. Quoted in Wm. Theodore de Bary, ed., The Buddhist Tradition in
India, China, and Japan (New York: The Modern Library, 1969), p.
129.
5. Quoted in Ibid., p. 135, with minor modification.
6. Memorial on the Bone of Buddha, quoted in Wm. Theodore de
Bary et al., eds., Sources of Chinese Tradition, Vol. 1 (New York:
Columbia University Press), 1960, with minor modification.
7. Wing-tsit Chan, trans., Reflections on Things at Hand: The Neo-
Confucian Anthology Compiled by Chu Hsi and Lü Tsu-ch’ ien
(New York: Columbia University Press), 1967.
8. Ibid., pp. 283-84.
 Tendai and Shingon
Digital Dictionary of Buddhism
 Buddhanet.net  Gallery of Japanese Buddhist Paint-
ings  Buddhist Texts Online  Buddhist Glossary  An-
other Glossary

The Heian period came into existence because of Emper-

or Kanmu’s desire to distance his court from the political
meddling of the Buddhist establishment in Nara. As we
have already seen, however, Buddhism thrived during
the Heian period and was a major force in court politics.
In contrast with the Nara period, however, institutional
Buddhism in Heian times often took an indirect ap-
proach to political influence. The new Heian government
very much wanted to associate itself with some kind of
Buddhism because of Buddhism’s potential power to pro-
tect the state. Early in the Ninth century, the Heian
court recognized two new forms of Buddhism, Tendai 天
台 and Shingon 真言.

These two varieties of Buddhism not only exerted a

major influence on life and culture in the Heian period,
they also sowed the seeds of several major subsequent
developments in Japanese Buddhism. Both Tendai and
Shingon are forms of Esoteric Buddhism (mikkyō 密教).
Esoteric Buddhism tends to rely on mysterious rites and
symbolic objects. It tends to stress that truth unfolds
through multiple layers of meaning as one’s insight de-
velops. There are thus different teachings and symbols
for different levels of sophistication. The different
schools of Esoteric Buddhism typically claim to be privy
to a set of secret teachings passed on from the Buddha
himself to superior disciples to the present day. Most
forms of Esoteric Buddhism are eclectic. In other words,
they draw on a wide variety of religious practices,
whether they be other forms of Buddhism or even non-
Buddhist religions.
Esoteric forms of Buddhism rejected the idea that one
must spend many lifetimes slowly moving toward en-
lightenment. Instead, using the proper techniques and
working very hard, it is possible for someone to attain
enlightenment in the present lifetime – a highly appeal-
ing claim. Moreover, esoteric forms of Buddhism regard-
ed the senses not as something to be suppressed, but as
sacred pathways for apprehending ultimate reality. The
three classic “senses” in Buddhism are body, mind, and
speech. More specifically, “body” corresponded to mu-
dras (gestures with the hands and arms), “speech” corre-
sponded to mantras (sacred, resonant syllables), and
“mind” corresponded to mandalas (sacred diagrams).
This chapter examines the basic doctrines and historical
significance of Tendai and Shingon. The material here
will reappear in later parts of the book, so be sure to get
a good grasp of Tendai and Shingon before moving for-
ward to other topics.

Tendai
First, read this brief historical summary.
The monk Saichō 最澄 formally introduced Tendai Bud-
dhism to Japan in 807, after returning from study in Chi-
na. Saichō (image 1  image 2) is also know by another
name, Dengyō-Daishi 伝教大師, a posthumous title
meaning roughly “Great Teacher and Transmitter of
Teachings.” The “Daishi” (Great Teacher) part of his title
is common to other Buddhists of high stature, so we will
see it again. The name Tendai comes from the name of a
mountain in China, which is the geographic origin of this
form of Buddhism. Saichō established a monastery at Mt.
Hiei 比叡山, on the outskirts of the capital. In doing so,
he had the full support of the Heian court. The court was
happy to see the monastery established relatively far
away from the center of the capital, owing to the earlier
problems in Nara. Furthermore, Mt. Hiei was located in
the northeast quadrant of the capital region. In the geo-
mantic thinking of the time, the northeast was the “de-
mon entrance,” from which malevolent influences might
enter the capital or, on a smaller scale, one’s home. The
Tendai monastery and temple on Mt. Hiei, therefore,
served to guard the “demon entrance,” protecting the
capital from harm.
This type of concern with the proper placement of
buildings and other objects and their directional orienta-
tion is called geomancy. It is also known by its Chinese
name, fengshui 風水 (Jp. fūsui) which literally means
“wind and water.” Geomantic ideas spread from China to
Korea and Japan. We need not concern ourselves with
geomancy other than to point out that it is not part of
the original Buddhism of India. Instead, the mixing to-
gether of Buddhism and geomancy is a Chinese devel-
opment. That the establishment of Tendai Buddhism also
helped improve the geomantic condition of the capital
was obvious to any educated Japanese at the time. In
both China and Japan, there was a strong tendency to
regard all forms of religion (including a quasi-science
like geomancy) as a valid window for gaining insight into
some aspect of how the universe works. Rhetorically
speaking, therefore, how should a new religion be pack-
aged and presented for maximum acceptance? It should
claim: 1) to be all inclusive; and 2) to organize all other
religions and forms of knowledge into a coherent, albeit
complex, network. In this way, a new religion can
present itself as being superior to other forms and prac-
tices while still affirming their value. Tendai took this
approach, but it is not unique in doing so. Shingon also
claimed to be all inclusive and systematic, as did other
forms of Buddhism such as Kegon (Flower-Garland Sect)
華厳宗, which we do not study in this course.

More specifically, Saichō presented Tendai as a con-

trast to the varieties of Buddhism located in the previous
capital, Nara. The six major schools of Buddhism in Nara,
he said, were excessively narrow. They focused only on
academic study to the exclusion of practicing Buddhism
with one’s own body. Tendai, he said, gives equal weight
to academic study and training/practice. He summed
this point up with the formulaic expression kyōkan ni-
mon 教観ニ門, roughly “Study and practice are two
gateways.” The term “practice” here refers especially to
meditation, though it also includes other activities. 
Most forms of Buddhism have a specific textual basis.
For Tendai (and also for Nichiren 日蓮宗, another form
of Buddhism we do not deal with in this course) it is the
Lotus Sutra (Jp. Hokekyō or Hokkekyō 法華経) (complete
text). The word sutra is common to many of the major
works in the Buddhist canon. There are, for example, the
Heart Sutra, Flower-Garland Sutra, Sutra of Visualization
of the Buddha of Infinite Life, and many others (click on
title to read the full text). The lotus is an important Bud-
dhist symbol. It is a large, spectacular flower that grows
up from the bottom of muddy ponds. It therefore sug-
gests rising above the grime of the ordinary world, that
is, a state of spiritual purity. Because the lotus appears to
grow spontaneously out of the mud, it also symbolizes
divine birth. In Tendai and other forms of Esoteric Bud-
dhism, the Lotus came to symbolize the potential for
Buddhahood in everyone. Those who are not yet Bud-
dhas are like lotus flowers before they open up. Images
of Buddhas or Bodhisattvas seated on a lotus are com-
mon. They represent in part the idea of the blooming of
Buddhahood or enlightenment within a person (or even
other beings – not only humans).
 The Lotus Sutra is arguably the most influential text in
Buddhism. It lacks a clear plot and rambles around too
much for modern sensibilities. The Lotus Sutra records
the event of the original Buddha giving, or about to give,
a sermon that has the power to save all beings regardless
of karmic status. The text constantly builds up expecta-
tions about this great sermon only to (apparently) di-
gress into stories that involve someone lying to or de-
ceiving someone else for that other person’s benefit. In
other words, these are tales describing specific uses of
skillful means (Jp. hōben 方便). Be sure you understand
skillful means – if not, go back and review. It also makes
some other points, some relevant to Tendai Buddhism,
but we will omit them here.
In the end, the Buddha never does get around to giving
the sermon, but he has explained a wide variety of uses
of skillful means. But perhaps that is the sermon, name-
ly, that skillful means is the way to salvation or enlight-
enment and that a wide variety of skillful means is nec-
essary to ensure that there is something for everyone.
Tendai Buddhists sometimes use the metaphor of an or-
dinary roadway full of travelers. Some ride carriages,
some are on horseback, some are walking, but, regard-
less of the means they use to get there, they are all trav-
eling down the same path. Tendai, in short, claims to of-
fer the best set of means. It has both a wide variety of
them, even for beginners, and also the most powerful
(“high tech” would also be an appropriate term) rituals
and techniques for the advanced practitioners. With ef-
fort, goes the Tendai claim, anyone can attain enlight-
enment in his or her own present body.
Now, some background information. Recall that origi-
nal Buddhism is non-theistic but that deities came into
Buddhism later, under the influence of Hinduism. At the
most sophisticated levels of teaching, these deities do
not exist as specific, separate entities. In other words,
one can argue that Buddhism is still a non-theistic reli-
gion. Deities, in the form of Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Wis-
dom Kings, and lesser types (which we will study in due
course), however, have an important role to play in Bud-
dhism even at relatively high levels of practice. Although
the basic teachings of Buddhism (Four Noble Truths,
Eightfold Path) seem relatively simple on the surface, a
deep understanding of them is anything but simple, es-
pecially if “understanding” means to know and practice
with one’s whole body.
One reason for this complexity is that Buddhism ad-
dresses our psychological makeup, which is no simple
thing, and, to some extent, varies from person to person.
The deities can serve as devices (i.e., skillful means) to
aid our understanding of Buddhism in various ways.
Most basically, they can stand for specific Buddhist
teachings, principles, and psychological states, with the
more abstract concepts personified by the higher forms
of deity and the specific details personified by lesser
forms of deity. By embodying difficult or abstract con-
cepts in the form of a quasi-human deity, these concepts
may become easier to understand. Furthermore, these
deities are depicted in stylized ways and augmented with
stylized symbols such as hand-held objects. The iconog-
raphy of such Buddhist imagery, which we study in a lat-
er chapter, reinforces ideas and concepts in Buddhist
teaching.
One of the strengths of Buddhism in general is that it
recognizes people as they actually are, even while trying
to transform them. One characteristic of most people is
that they understand best when ideas take concrete
form. Also, people tend to personify ideas and to look to
others more powerful or accomplished than themselves
as role models. The various deities in Buddhism serve
such purposes.1 The various deities are manifestations
of each other (when at the same level in the hierarchy,
Buddhas, for example) or are manifestations of specific
aspects of another deity (for example, the compassion of
a Bodhisattva has several aspects, one of which is a burn-
ing desire to save others, which is manifested as a fiery
wisdom king). Ultimately, all deities are part of the uni-
tary reality of the cosmos, and when a Buddhist seeker
has eliminated the sense of “I,” s/he will no longer need
deities, and they will vanish. S/he and the deities and
the cosmos will all be one.
Many forms of Mahayana Buddhism, Tendai included,
are based on a specific deity or the (alleged) teachings of
a specific Buddha. For Tendai this figure is Shakyamuni,
the historical Buddha. Tendai does not recognize him as
the only Buddha. Instead, he is held up as the best exam-
ple of Buddhahood for others, and his excellence is
summed up in the slogan “the true attainment in the
remote past” (Kuon jitsujō 久遠実成). In other words, al-
though he lived long ago, Shakyamuni succeeded in at-
taining enlightenment. By showing others how to do the
same, practically speaking, he created the possibility for
present-day enlightenment. Many of the more elaborate
doctrines and practices of Tendai are allegedly derived
from secret, advanced teachings of Shakyamuni, which is
another reason that his enlightenment serves as a tem-
plate for the enlightenment of others. Actually, Shakya-
muni’s enlightenment was but the realization of the
original state of enlightenment we all have within us.
Thus, Shakyamuni’s enlightenment is called “the origi-
nal enlightenment” (hongaku 本覚). Tendai stresses that
this original enlightenment is part of all of us, and its
practices are designed to bring it to fruition.
Let us survey the major doctrines of Tendai. One is the
Triple Truth or Three-fold Truth (isshin-sangan 一心三
観). The three interrelated components of this truth are:
1) void or emptiness (ku 空); 2) temporary or provisional
(ge 仮); and 3) the middle path (chū 中). “Reality” is
characterized by all three of these qualities simultane-
ously, and the “correct view” is the middle path, i.e., a
transcendent understanding that unifies the void and
the provisional. Simply stated, “void” means that noth-
ing exists in and of itself. Instead, all things exist only
with reference to other things, i.e., they have provisional
existence. For this reason, the phenomenal world is al-
ways in flux. The middle path, i.e., the correct under-
standing of reality, is the realization that everything is
simultaneously provisional and yet void of independent
existence. Furthermore, we should realize this point
without becoming fixated on either the void aspect of
reality or the provisional aspect.
I realize that this concept may initially seem strange.
Studying this diagram may help clarify it (PDF file). It is
a refinement of the Basic Buddhist idea that the world of
phenomena is illusory. Tendai doctrine would agree that
it is, but it also takes seriously the obvious existence of a
phenomenal world. The Triple Truth explains (or postu-
lates) that the ever-changing phenomenal world and the
void are at some deeper level of understanding, both the
same. Therefore, instead of becoming attached to either
aspect of reality, we should develop an understanding
that transcends and unites both.
The standard metaphor for the Triple Truth is a mir-
ror. Here is one way to explain the Triple Truth via a
mirror. The mirror’s brightness is void or empty because
it “exists” only as a result of outside input, not indepen-
dent of other things. The objects reflected in the mirror
are temporary, that is, provisional. The whole mirror is
the middle path, which stands for the true state of
things, and which integrates void and temporary. In
other words, the mirror reveals both the ultimate non-
substantiality of worldly things while also affirming
their every-changing, provisional existence. Got it?
Maybe not.
Then here is another way to explain the same thing:
co-dependent existence. In other words, nothing at all
(e.g., physical objects, feelings, ideas, the sense of “I”)
exists in and of itself. In this sense, the metaphysical
core of all things is void (or perhaps “voidness”). Stated
another way, there is no ultimate foundation of phe-
nomena in the world. Of course, at a more mundane,
earthly level, things obviously exist. But they exist in a
temporary, ever-changing state, taking on form only in
relation to the matrix of other provisional things (with
“things” here including ideas, thoughts, and other non-
tangible phenomena). The things that the unenlightened
person perceives are temporary and provisional, yet s/
he often regards them as if they were permanent and
stable. Therefore – and this is an important conclusion –
all phenomena have ontological equality, none being
more basic or fundamental than any others. They are all
equally temporary and provisional. (For a heavy-duty
explanation of co-dependent existence, click here. Inci-
dentally, this non-foundational aspect of Japanese Bud-
dhist thought has led some contemporary and recent
scholars to claim that Japan was post-modern way back
in its middle ages. If this last point does not make sense
to you, don’ t worry about it.)
If we take the Triple Truth seriously, then I must revise
what I said about Shakyamuni above. We might refer to
him as the basis of Tendai insofar as Tendai places
strong emphasis on putting Buddhism into practice. But
Shakyamuni is not ontologically more fundamental than
anything else (in other words, his existence is not a
foundation for anything). Indeed, other Buddhas may
seem more fundamental when we look at different is-
sues. For example, Vairocana (Jp. Dainichi 大日如来) is a
Buddha commonly associated with the sun (hereafter I
will often call him/her/it “the Solar Buddha”). Vairo-
cana is the metaphysical basis of the cosmos in Tendai
and Shingon. “Basis,” however, is a problematic term be-
cause no one thing is any more or less basic than any-
thing else. Tendai preaches a radical ontological equality
in which symbol and that which is symbolized are essen-
tially the same. A more accurate way to put it is that
everything is a symbol of everything else, and nothing is
the basic “thing” for which symbols stand. An object re-
flected in a mirror is no different from the reflection –
both are void at the core and temporary manifestations.
OK, are you on board? If not, look up unfamiliar terms
like ontological/ontology in a dictionary and then reread
these paragraphs.
In the realm of literary and artistic symbols, what sort
of influence might Tendai exert? As you might expect,
taking Tendai seriously would argue for a radical equali-
ty of symbols and a recognition that everything is in fact
a symbol of everything else. What about the Six Courses
(rokudō), for example? Do they signify a real, knock-on-
wood state of existence that is other than nirvana, or is
nirvana within the Six Courses and the Six Courses with-
in nirvana? For Tendai, it is the latter. Indeed, Tendai of-
ten added 4 more courses of enlightened beings to the
basic 6 to create a 10-course wheel. One point in doing so
was to emphasize that nirvana was within samsara and
vice versa.
There is a practical problem here, namely, how can we
even conceive of such a counter-intuitive idea? Part of
the answer lies in changing our fundamental mental
processes and thus the very things we regard intuitively
as “natural” or obvious. Tendai-influenced art and liter-
ature often seeks to stimulate or accelerate such a
change. Indeed, Buddhist monks in Medieval Japan often
justified their pursuit of the visual and literary arts as
forms of skillful means to assist others.2
Another important implication of Tendai’s radical on-
tological equality is that one need not abandon the phe-
nomenal world to find enlightenment. One can, at least
in theory, become enlightened while being socially en-
gaged. Tendai monks did not necessarily put this last
point into practice, but the founders of Pure Land Bud-
dhism did, as we shall see later. According to Tendai
teachings, all people possess an equal potential for en-
lightenment (a typical slogan was bonshō-fu’ ni 凡聖不
二, “the ordinary person and the sage are not two differ-
ent things”). In practice, Tendai monks enjoyed aristo-
cratic patronage and tended strongly toward elitism. It
was Pure Land Buddhism that took this Tendai egalitari-
an potential and produced a religion popular among or-
dinary people.
To summarize the Triple Truth and related concepts,
let us rely on the words of Tamura Yoshiro, which are
slightly different from mine. In this passage, he is dis-
cussing the Tendai idea of “Original
Enlightenment” (hongaku 本覚). For our purposes, sim-
ply regard the Original Enlightenment as Shakyamuni’s
enlightenment. Furthermore, the terms “nondual unity”
and “monism” refer to a nirvana-like state of no distinc-
tion between things, i.e., the void. “Dualistic actuality”
and similar terms refer to the provisional:
We must note . . . that even though the ultimate nature
of existence is nondual unity, this does not mean that we
can ignore the dualistic nature of ordinary existence. If
we were to depict the human real pictorially, we might
represent it as a frame of dualism suspended in space
(space representing nondualism, or emptiness). Empti-
ness is the essence of the human realm, while the frame
is characteristic of ordinary existence. Human existence
is twofold, comprising an ultimate, monistic aspect and
an actual, dualistic aspect. To be born human entails the
task of realizing the ultimate, monistic aspect within the
actual, dualistic aspect. This is the purpose of human
life.
 It is a mistake to become attached to dualistic actuality
and remain unaware of the monistic essence; but it is
also wrong to abandon dualistic actuality and attach
oneself to the monistic essence. The nondual must be
vividly realized in the dual, and the dual must become
actual because of the nondual. In Buddhism this is de-
scribed as “not two but two” and “two but not two.” The
two great mandalas of the Shingon sect, the Diamond
realm mandala and the Womb realm mandala, are
graphic representations of these two principles. (Yoshi-
ro Tamura, Japanese Buddhism: A Cultural History,
Jeffrey Hunter, trans. [Tokyo: Kosei Publishing Co.,
2000], pp. 76-77.)
We will examine these two Shingon mandalas shortly.
Notice especially the purpose in life according to Tendai:
realizing the dual within the nondual and vice versa.
Another key teaching of Tendai, and which is also
common to most forms of Mahayana Buddhism, is the
Doctrine of the Threefold Body 三身. It is based on the
same general idea as the Triple Truth and says that all
enlightened beings have three “bodies,” that is, forms in
which they appear and may be apprehended by others.
Ultimately, all three bodies are the same and are not re-
ally “things” in and of themselves, as per the explana-
tion of the Triple Truth above. Nevertheless, as provi-
sional forms, they can be very useful for lesser beings
(recall the explanation of deities above).
The three bodies “exist” simultaneously. One is the
Principle Body, also called the Dharma Body (Jp. hosshin
法身). It is the Buddha as an abstract concept, ideal, or
principle. The Principle Body is impersonal and ahistori-
cal. It is Buddha-as-concept, that is, Buddhahood. The
second body is the Result Body, often called the Enjoy-
ment Body (Jp. hōjin 報身). It is the body of anyone who
has attained profound spiritual insight by causal action,
that is, by doing things to bring about his/her own en-
lightenment. This body has two aspects: 1) a body for
self-enjoyment, that is the enlightened being enjoying
his/her own enlightenment; and b) a body for others to
enjoy. This second aspect is the idea of the Bodhisattva,
who waits to enter nirvana out of compassion for others
and assists them in their quest. Finally, there is the
Transformation Body (Jp. ōjin 応身). This body can be-
come manifest in virtually any form to assist sentient be-
ings. This idea of the Transformation Body is closely
linked with the Japanese phenomenon of honji-suijaku
本地垂跡, commonly – but somewhat inaccurately – de-
scribed as the “merging of Buddhism and Shintō.” We
will take up honji-suijaku in a later chapter.
 Is one body superior to or more fundamental than the
others, or do the two of the bodies derive from one of
them? No, at least not according to Tendai theology.
Naturally, this degree of equivalence was too difficult for
many people to grasp, and so there is a tendency to re-
gard one as more fundamental than the others (usually
the Principle Body, owing to a bias in favor of the intel-
lect). Ideally, however, we should strive to see all three
bodies as one. Success in this endeavor would indicate a
high level of attainment.
Notice how this doctrine can be immensely useful in
linking together all the many deities in Buddhism, pre-
serving their distinctiveness while also affirming their
oneness. For those of you who have studied classical
China, notice how similar this way of thinking is to cor-
relative cosmology.
Because Tendai affirmed the equality of all phenome-
na, it was a broad religion, open to many external influ-
ences. Tendai was especially influenced by Shingon, its
main competitor near the capital, as well as native Ja-
panese religion (often called “Shintō”). Broadly speak-
ing, Tendai’s historical significance is that it sowed the
seeds for many new forms of Japanese religion. Pure
Land Buddhism, for example, developed in Japan from
Tendai. So, too, did Nichiren Buddhism.
 Furthermore, Tendai strongly influenced a major mode
of Japanese religious practice: rigorous physical ordeals.
Tendai devotees, for example, sometimes take long hikes
through mountainous areas, meditate in winter while
standing under cold waterfalls, and otherwise expose
themselves to the elements for the purpose of spiritual
training. Mixtures of native Japanese religious traditions
and Tendai ordeals created various forms of religious
training called Shugendō 修験道. Practitioners of
Shugendō often subject themselves to various kinds of
ordeals and severe physical/mental/spiritual training.
Indeed, most forms of religious or quasi-religious per-
sonal ordeals to which a small percentage of the Ja-
panese population subject themselves are at least in part
derived from Tendai (Yamabushi tools). Tendai also pro-
vided a variety of ritual practices, some of which other
forms of Japanese religion adopted, a good example be-
ing the Goma or Fire Ceremony (Goma image). In short,
Tendai was an incubator for many forms of religious
practice in medieval Japan.
Tendai was also influential in a more secular way. Its
monastery on Mt. Hiei, and, later, a second monastery,
called Miidera, became militarily powerful. At first, the
two Tendai monasteries fought against each other, with
Miidera being reduced to ashes several times in the
Heian period. The conflict between the two Tendai cen-
ters was the result of rivalry over Tendai leadership. Be-
tween 981 and 1185, the monks at Mt. Hiei turned their
attention to the political affairs in the capital and re-
peatedly sent armies, some numbering in the thousands,
to intimidate the court. It should be stressed that many
of the ostensible practitioners of Buddhism at the time
did not live according to Buddhist principles. Institu-
tional religion of any kind is subject to corruption, and
Buddhism was no better or worse in this regard than the
world’s other major religions.
We will examine some of the specific rites, rituals, and
meditative techniques of Esoteric Buddhism in the next
section on Shingon because many of Tendai’s practices
are also found in Shingon, albeit with small variations.

Basic Facts† Summary for Tendai:

=> Founder: Saichō (Dengyō-Daishi), early 9th century
=> Textual basis: Lotus Sutra
=> Deity basis: Shakyamuni (the original Buddha)
=> Doctrinal summary: “The true attainment in the
remote past”
=> Key doctrines: Triple Truth, 3 Bodies, Original En-
lightenment, Skillful Means
=> Sales pitch: “Study & practice are two gateways;”
& enlightenment in one’s present lifetime
=> Broader significance: Sowed the seeds of many
other forms of religion
†(Do not just memorize these facts—understand them.)

Shingon
First, read this brief historical summary.
For further inquiry: Shingon Links
Shingon, which literally means “true word,” was found-
ed in 816 by Kūkai 空海 (image), who is better known by
his posthumous title, Kōbō-Daishi 弘法大師 (“Great
teacher of the broad dharma”). After his death, Kūkai
became the most famous Buddhist cleric throughout
Japan, and his name is still well known to nearly all Ja-
panese, even those who are not devout Buddhists. Like
the case of Confucius in China, tall tales about Kūkai’s
accomplishments attributed to him vast religious and
cultural powers. He established his headquarters at Mt.
Kōya, a remote location far removed from the capital (in
those days). This physical remoteness enabled Shingon
to remain largely free of the military and political con-
flicts that beset Tendai. Shingon did, however, maintain
a small presence in the capital (at Tōji, “Eastern temple”)
and performed certain rites for the benefit of the court.
The textual basis of Shingon is the Vairocana Sutra
(Dainichikyō 大日経) and its “deity” basis is Vairocana,
the Solar Buddha. While Vairocana (also called Ma-
havairocana) also played a major role in Tendai, the rad-
ical egalitarianism of Tendai meant that Vairocana was
no more or less important than any other form of Bud-
dhahood. In Shingon, by contrast, Vairocana really is the
basis of everything else, and, in this sense, is the most
superior deity. All other Buddhas such as Shakyamuni
are manifestations of Vairocana. All things are a mani-
festation of Vairocana.
The main doctrinal/rhetorical slogan of Shingon is
Sokushin jōbutsu 即身成仏, which means “Attaining
Buddhahood in this very body” (for more details). An-
other favorite slogan with a similar meaning is “Six-fold
bodily and mental/spiritual contentment,” which
amounts to the same thing:  that one can attain full en-
lightenment now in this lifetime. Instead of viewing the
flesh – our physical existence – as an obstacle to enlight-
enment, esoteric Buddhism seeks to use the body as a
means to enlightenment. Its rituals and other practices
are performative guides for us to bring forth the Buddha
potential that exists in all of us.
 Notice that this claim is essentially the same selling
point as in Tendai, that is, by using esoteric techniques,
one can become enlightened in his or her present life-
time. As you might imagine, Tendai and Shingon each
claimed that its own set of techniques worked better
than the other’s, but their doctrines and repertoire of
techniques were quite similar, albeit with some differ-
ences such as the point about Vairocana in the previous
paragraph. Shingon and Tendai are similar, but there are
at least three differences. The first is a difference in de-
gree, not kind. Shingon introduced numerous Hindu
deities into Buddhism that had not previously made an
appearance in Japan. Next is a more fundamental differ-
ence: The basic theological premise of Shingon is that
the universe is a manifestation of the Solar Buddha,
Vairocana, who is himself the limitless cosmos. Be-
cause everything is a manifestation of Vairocana, he/
she/it is in a real sense the highest or most fundamental
of the Buddhas. Tendai, as we have seen, resisted making
the claim that something is more fundamental than any-
thing else. Finally, Shingon regarded its teachings as a
break from older forms of Mahayana Buddhism. By con-
trast, Tendai regarded its teachings as an improvement
over of older forms of Buddhism but not a radical break
with the past.
 Also keeping in mind the major doctrines of Tendai we
studied in the previous section, let us here focus on some
of the techniques of Esoteric Buddhism, which include,
mystic formularies, chants, spells, mudra (hand signs),
rites, and advanced meditation practices. More than any
other form of Buddhism, Shingon embraced graphic rep-
resentations of the cosmos, especially in the form of
cryptic diagrams called mandala upon which practition-
ers meditate. Kūkai, for example, explained:
Since the Esoteric Buddhist teachings are so profound
as to defy expression in writing, they are revealed
through the medium of painting to those who are yet to
be enlightened. The various postures and mudras [de-
picted in mandalas] are products of the great compas-
sion of the Buddha; the sight of them may well enable
one to attain buddhahood. The secrets of the sutras and
commentaries are for the most part depicted in the
paintings, and all the essentials of esoteric Buddhist doc-
trines are, in reality, set forth therein. neither masters
nor students can dispense with them. (Quoted in Eliza-
beth ten Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas: Representa-
tions of Sacred Geography, Honolulu: University of
Hawai’ i Press, 1999, p. 33.)
The two most important mandala in Shingon, and in-
deed in Japanese culture generally, are the Diamond
World mandala and Womb World mandala. (The Womb
World mandala sometimes also called the “Matrix man-
dala” in English or the “Womb mandala” in Japanese).
Although primarily associated with Shingon, Tendai also
makes use of these two mandala, albeit with slightly dif-
ferent iconography. Both diagrams together represent
the whole cosmos. Because of the difficulty in appre-
hending the cosmos in its totality, each mandala breaks
down different aspects of reality.
Although mandalas are two-dimensional diagrams, in
many cases they represented three-dimensional space. It
was the job of the serious observer to transpose the flat
mandala into a three-dimensional structure extending
upward. Buddhist architecture, especially the design of
stupas, pagodas, or temple buildings was the general
model for the transposition from two-dimensional space
to three-dimensional space.
Read the first two paragraphs of this article now.
The rest of it will be useful in a later chapter on
Buddhist iconography, so you might want to read
through the whole thing now as a preview.
The Womb World 胎蔵界 excellent image) is the world
of ever-changing, shifting phenomena, the world of
birth, death, and rebirth. Notice, therefore, that  this
“world” is the world of phenomena, what Tendai would
call the “provisional.” The meditator would generally
start from the center of the mandala, which is an image
of Vairocana, and move outward, toward multiplicity. As
Elizabeth ten Grotenhius explains, “The Womb World
mandala represents reality as it is revealed in the world
of the conditioned, the individual, the particular, and
the relative.” (Japanese Mandalas, p. 37.) Recall the ba-
sic doctrine of Shingon that all things are manifestations
of Vairocana. The Vairocana of the Womb World appears
differently from the Vairocana of the Diamond World.
The main difference is in the hand sign, or mudra (inzō
印相). The Womb World Vairocana folds its hands to-
gether as illustrated here.
At the center of the Womb World mandala is an eight-
petaled lotus flower (hachiyōin 八葉院) with an image of
Vairocana in the center. It indicates the place where the
sun retires at night, and the sense of mystery and dark-
ness is probably the origin of the womb metaphor. Other
symbolism here is that the Solar Buddha is the source of
all things, and here s/he (it?) is found at the center, that
is, the heart of the mandala. The eight deities, one for
each petal, are Buddha/Bodhisattva pairs who have cre-
ated the four cycles of the current universe (review the
material on cycles of time in Mahayana Buddhism).
There is a fifth cycle yet to come. These pairs represent
the birth, growth, and complete permeation of compas-
sion throughout the universe. In light of these points,
the Womb World mandala might also be called the
“mandala of expanding compassion.” Examine this dia-
gram for a simple listing of the major parts of the man-
dala, though you need only remember the center part in
any detail. For a comprehensive explanation of mandala
in Japanese Buddhism, click here.
The Diamond World (kongōkai 金剛界), by contrast, is
one of stability – the unchanging essence of Buddha wis-
dom. Tendai Buddhism would call this “world” the
“void.” According to ten Grotenhius, “the Diamond
World mandala represents reality in the buddha realm,
the world of the unconditioned, the real, the universal,
and the absolute.” (Japanese Mandalas, p. 37.)  A medi-
tator gazing at the Diamond World mandala (high-quali-
ty image) starts with the outer parts and works inward,
toward a central unity of all things, indicated by Vairo-
cana employing the Diamond World mudra. The Bud-
dhahood of Vairocana is a constant truth. All Buddhist
practices, all Buddhas and lesser deities, and everything
else has the Buddha nature of Vairocana at its core. Of
course, at a profound depth of understanding, the two
worlds are one. Notice that we are back to a fundamental
issue in Buddhism and many other forms of East Asian
thought (especially Chinese correlative cosmology): how
to explain and comprehend the diversity of the universe
while at the same time explaining and comprehending
its unity. Notice also the hands of the Diamond World
Vairocana. They are in a distinctive shape called the
Wisdom Fist (or, sometimes, the Diamond Fist). Examine
the illustration here and here.
As its name implies, the Wisdom fist represents knowl-
edge, that is, an intellectual understanding of the dhar-
ma. More specifically, the left index finger is a symbol
for the world of beings (the ordinary world). It is sur-
rounded and protected by the five fingers of the right
hand. Each finger stands for one of the five basic ele-
ments that constitute people (from the little finger:
earth, fire, water, air, and void). In this context, the in-
dex finger of the left hand takes on the added meaning
of mental activity, in this case, the high-powered knowl-
edge of Buddhahood. In an additional layer of symbol-
ism, the two hands represent the two “worlds” (diamond
and womb) conjoined by the diamond finger, that is, the
index finger of the left hand. In yet another layer of
meaning, the mudra indicates the interconnections be-
tween and ultimate unity of the physical and mental/
spiritual worlds. There are even more possible layers of
symbolism in the Wisdom Fist, but you surely get the
idea from the items mentioned this far. We will examine
various other mudra in later chapters.
 The Diamond World mandala consists of nine square
“assemblies,” each of which can be a mandala in its own
right. At the center of the Diamond World mandala is a
square called the “Attainment Body” assembly. Recall
the Doctrine of the Threefold Body in Tendai. It is also
called the Perfected Body Assembly, which is just anoth-
er way of translating the Japanese term jōjin-e 成身会.
Overall, this assembly is about initiation into Buddha-
hood. The other eight assemblies in the mandala are
variations on this theme.
The main entities depicted here are all attainment bod-
ies of Vairocana. In the center is Vairocana, who mani-
fests four additional Buddhas, each located at the center
of each of the squares surrounding Vairocana. Each of
these four Buddhas is associated with a direction, but the
direction is not obvious from the spatial layout of the
mandala. Ashuku (east – at the bottom) represents
stages of unfolding wisdom and has the specific quality
of reflecting all things exactly as they are. Hōjō
[=Shakyamuni], also known as Hōshō (south – at left),
represents the initiation and encouragement of wisdom
and has the specific quality of seeing all things without
discrimination or bias. Muryōju (west – at the top) is the
Buddha Amida, who here represents the further devel-
opment of wisdom, specifically, the wisdom to penetrate
all things (owing to Amida’s radiant, penetrating light).
Finally, Fukūjōju [=Yakushi] (north – at right) represents
actual practice and application of wisdom, which liber-
ates all beings from suffering. As you can see, the Dia-
mond World mandala might also be called something
like “the mandala of expanding wisdom.” The four direc-
tional Buddhas each manifest one aspect of wisdom,
which when combined form the perfect knowledge of
Vairocana.
The four smaller figures around each Buddha are Bod-
hisattvas, who serve as more specific aspects of that par-
ticular Buddha’s wisdom. All sixteen of them represent
sixteen stages of the unfolding of Buddhahood. They are
also, in a sense, gifts in that the four directional Buddhas
manifest these bodhisattvas to Vairocana. Vairocana,
reciprocally manifests four more “perfection: bod-
hisattvas, which appear in smaller “moon disks” in each
corner. The next square out is a representation of the
“thousand Buddhas” (250 in each direction). In the four
corners of this section are four more “offering” bod-
hisattvas by the four directional Buddhas to Vairocana,
who in turn manifests four “attraction bodhisattvas.” In
part these proliferating bodhisattvas illustrate the basic
Shingon doctrine that everything in the universe is an
emanation of Vairocana.  Notice also the vajra symbol-
ism in the depiction of the spaces of this assembly.
 Recall that according to Tamura, the purpose of life for
Tendai Buddhists was to realize the world of absolute
monism (i.e., “void”) within the phenomenal world (i.e.,
“provisional”). In other words, Tendai practitioners
should strive to attain the “Middle way” of the Triple
Truth and realize simultaneously that the world is both
void and provisional. The Shingon Womb World and Di-
amond World mandala are a diagrammatic way of ex-
pressing the same point. Each explains one aspect of re-
ality. Ideally, a practitioner of Buddhism would gradual-
ly attain an understanding of reality whereby s/he can
superimpose the two mandala onto each other. In other
words, the two mandala simultaneously and together
express true reality. The ability to apprehend them both
at the same time is the same as apprehending the void
and the provisional simultaneously. In this sense, these
two mandala of Shingon serve as diagrams of the Tendai
Triple Truth (remember that Tendai and Shingon have
much in common).
In medieval times, Buddhism informed almost all Ja-
panese visual art. Within Buddhism, Shingon was the
strongest advocate of the value of the visual arts. For one
thing, visual art was the best, if still imperfect, way to
represent the divine. Furthermore, in Shingon doctrine,
works of art are not necessarily just symbols. Properly
rendered, art actually embodies essential forces. These
forces are transferable through meditation. Before ex-
amining Shingon meditation techniques, however, let us
further investigate some of the major art of Shingon by
examining the arrangement of statues in Shingon’s East-
ern Temple (Tōji 東寺). In full array, there are five col-
umns (think of a spreadsheet here), one for each of the
five directions (the four you usually think of plus the
center). This association with the five directions is an-
other way of saying that the divine beings depicted here
constitute the universe. The five columns are four rows
deep, the first row being five Buddhas (nyorai in Ja-
panese, meaning “thus come one”), the next being five
Bodhisattvas (bosatsu), and then five Wisdom Kings
(myōō). Finally, there is a row of guardian deities (ten),
an example of some of the new deities Shingon brought
into Buddhism from Hinduism.
This assemblage of Buddhas is called the Five Wisdom
Buddhas (gochi’ nyōrai 五智如来 – Wikipedia explana-
tion) and is found in many Shingon and Tendai temples
(here they are again, neatly arranged, in the Womb
World configuration). We have seen them already at the
center of the Diamond World mandala. The five are typi-
cally arrayed in the Diamond World lineup, and each is
associated with a certain direction, but the compass-
point image here is slightly deceptive. The directions as-
sociated with either the Womb World Mandala or the Di-
amond World Mandala do not correspond to the familiar
compass points with north at the top. So, at first galnce,
these directions make no obvious sense in the Diamond
World lineup. Vairocana in the middle is shown with the
characteristic Wisdom Fist mudra. On the far left (from
your perspective, looking at the picture here) is the
“south” direction. Hōjō 宝生, also pronounced Hōshō, is
the Buddha of this direction, and  Hōjō is just another
name for Shakyamuni. The name Hōjō means something
like “giving birth to treasure,” and describes Shakyamu-
ni’s role as bestowing treasure on others for their benefit
(i.e., the dharma in the form of his first and subsequent
sermons). Notice that Shakyamuni is not the central fig-
ure here. Although we commonly call him “the Buddha,”
from the perspective of many forms of Buddhism,
Shakyamuni is a somewhat lesser form of Buddha in that
he appeared on earth and lived as a human being. His
earthly existence, by which he demonstrated the path to
enlightenment, was a concession to human weakness.
Next, in the “west” is Amida 阿弥陀, a Buddha who
presides over a heavenly paradise and who vowed to
save all those calling upon him with sincerity. In this
arrangement, he is typically said to represent something
like the power of eternal life. As with Shakyamuni, Ami-
da is in some sense a lesser Buddha because life in his
paradise, while excellent, is not full nirvana, and Amida
also exists because of human weakness. On the far right,
in the “east” is Ashuku 阿閦, who stands for the un-
changing universal power of Buddhist teaching. Next to
him, in the “north,” is Fukūjōju 不空成就. Fukūjōju
teaches people how they can benefit themselves and
others, as well as instilling in them the will to work for
the benefit of others. In the center, of course, is Vairo-
cana, from which all things emanate. Vairocana embod-
ies the qualities of the other four Buddhas simultaneous-
ly. (Here is a chart of these five Buddhas, but it uses their
Sanskrit names. Still, it might be useful: Hōjō = Rat-
nasambhava; Amida = Amitabha; Ashuku = Akshobhya;
Fukūjōju = Amoghasiddhi.)
Notice that Vairocana is an abstract metaphysical prin-
ciple. The other four Buddhas represent different as-
pects of the way the universe is or functions, but they
are somewhat more concrete. Typically, as one moves
away from Vairocana, and especially down the rows of
divine beings, that which they represent gets ever more
concrete and specific. This situation is common in all
forms of Mahayana Buddhism, and it is a good example
of the role of deities as symbols of various Buddhist
teachings. All of the deities here are actually one unitary
reality, as are ourselves if only we could eliminate the
notion of “I.” We are all, potentially, Vairocana. But be-
cause of the power of the delusions under which most
people suffer, a wide variety of divine beings are neces-
sary as skillful means to assist humans in understanding
Reality. Eventually, one is supposed to realize that we
are all manifestations of each other and are thus all one.
(On the topic of Buddhist deities, by the way, Buddhism
can be regarded as non-theistic, monotheistic, and/or
polytheistic. In this sense it does not fit Western-style
religious categories very well.)
Were these five Buddhas to appear in the Womb World
arrangement, the names of some of them would change,
as would their attributes. And, of course, Vairocana’s
mudra would be different. Since, however, it is in fact
the same five Buddhas, one can visualize them in the
womb arrangement even if the statues present are in the
diamond arrangement. After all, the womb and the dia-
mond are two aspects of the same thing – the whole of
the universe.
Let us examine two other figures. Moving down the
center column, we encounter first Kongōsatta 金剛薩埵,
a Bodhisattva, and then the Wisdom King Fudō 不動明
王, whose name means “immovable.” Kongōsatta is the
messenger of Vairocana, the one who makes the wisdom
of Buddhahood accessible to others. In human terms,
who might this messenger be? Yes, none other than
Kūkai, who, as Kōbō-Daishi, was and is Japan’s most cel-
ebrated Buddhist monk. Interestingly, depictions of
Kūkai and depictions of Kongōsatta typically bear re-
semblance, especially regarding the objects held in their
hands (compare).
(Chinese version of Kongōsatta, Kingangsatuo)
Fudō is highly popular in Japanese Buddhism. Like
Kongōsatta, he is an avatar (i.e., a different form of)
Vairocana, which is why Fudō is depicted amid flames
looking fierce and powerful. What is the difference be-
tween a Bodhisattva and a Wisdom King? They are both
savior-like figures, enlightened beings who seek to assist
the unenlightened. Bodhisattvas typically save you in a
general way, over the course of your lifetime, while Wis-
dom Kings save you from specific, immediate dangers. A
Wisdom King would, for example, swoop down to save a
drowning child. A Bodhisattva might try to lead the
child’s family along the path to enlightenment. A Wis-
dom king might knock the bottle out of the hand of a re-
covering alcoholic before he can take a drink. A Bod-
hisattva’s guidance might show him how to change his
life so that drinking would no longer matter. . . . and so
forth. We will examine differences between the various
types of divine beings in a future chapter.
Fudō usually carries a rope and a sword (sometimes a
vajra – explained below – substitutes for the sword). The
sword represents wisdom, and the victory of knowledge
over error and ignorance. The rope is the practical ap-
plication of knowledge to help others. How? By using it
to bind demons to render them harmless. And what
might these “demons” be (Hint: think of Mara’s attack)?
Also, by using the rope to pull ignorant people onto the
Buddhist path, their enlightenment becomes possible.
Together, the rope and sword show that knowledge and
the application of knowledge are two sides of the same
coin, that is, they are inseparable. The overall stance,
demeanor, and the vajra handle of the sword indicate
that Fudō is steadfast in his determination to save oth-
ers. As his name implies, he will not be moved by worldly
demons or dangers.
(Chinese version of Fudō, Budong)
Kūkai, Kongōsatta, and sometimes Fudō are typically
depicted holding a metal object in one hand. This object
is a vajra, which literally mean’s “Indra’s
thunderbolt” (Indra is a Hindu deity). The vajra is one of
the exotic, mysterious ritual objects that Shingon intro-
duced into Japanese Buddhism, and its origins are prob-
ably as some form of knife or short sword from the area
in or around Persia. In general, the vajra suggests
strength and power. In Shingon, it became the symbol of
the diamond, and thus the universal, unchanging Bud-
dhist truth. Like Fudō’s sword, the vajra also symbolizes
the victory of knowledge and truth over error and illu-
sion. For more details on vajra in Buddhist symbolism,
see this image (but do not worry about remembering all
the items, just get a general idea of the possibilities).
Vajra and other objects are often employed in Shingon
rituals. Ceremonial action is yet another tool for assist-
ing in the realization of enlightenment in the present
lifetime. Tendai and Shingon, for example, both feature
fire ceremonies (called goma 護摩 in Japanese, from the
Sanskrit homa). These ceremonies differ in the complex-
ity of their symbolism. The essential element in all of
them, however, is the offering of fire to one or more di-
vine beings. Like so much else in Shingon, the flames
symbolize the victory of wisdom over ignorance and
delusion. The fire itself is the wisdom of Buddhahood or
the teachings of Buddhism, which convert and consume
the things of the world that delude us.
Like Tendai, Shingon practitioners often employ rigor-
ous physical ordeals to gain insight. One form of training
involves long periods of meditation combined with little
sleep for several days. To add to the intensity and to
prevent napping, practitioners might meditate under
waterfalls – even in winter in some cases. If a waterfall is
not available, dumping buckets of cold water on one’s
self or other practitioners is a substitute. Another form
of physical ordeal involves walking (or running) over
coals while barefoot. Perhaps the ultimate example of
physical ordeals is self-mummification while alive
(sokushin-butsu 即身仏). Of course, the process ulti-
mately causes death. Over the course of years, practi-
tioners gradually eliminate body fat, reduce water in the
body, and even consume lacquer tea to preserve their in-
ternal organs and help prevent decay of the body. Even-
tually they perish in underground chambers. If all goes
well (sometimes their bodies decay despite all the ago-
nizing preparation), three years later they are dug up,
depressed in priestly robes, and put on display in their
temple (examples). Remarkably, all mummification takes
place while alive, not after death, over the course of
three 1000-day preparatory stages plus the final live en-
tombment in the underground chamber. As you might
expect, self-mummification is extremely uncommon,
and there have been about twenty-five know successful
mummifications between the 11th century and 1903.
 Shingon introduced sophisticated meditation tech-
niques into Japanese Buddhism in the form of visualiza-
tion exercises. The very name Shingon (true word)
comes from the Sanskrit term mantra, which is a syllable
of sound used repetitively in meditation. Mantra are an
essential part of Shingon practice. Perhaps the most
common form of mantra-based meditative practice in
Shingon is “a”-syllable visualization. This type of medi-
tation can take various forms from simple to complex
according to the needs of the practitioner. Just as Vairo-
cana is the essence of all Buddhas in Shingon, the “true
word” is the syllable “a.” In other words, “a” is the seed
syllable, from which all meditative practices develop.
Although the specific details vary, in most forms of
“a”-syllable meditation, practitioners sit in a typical
meditative posture (main point is to keep the back per-
fectly straight) in front of an image of the syllable “a”
written as a siddham (bonji 梵字) character. S/he focus-
es on the sound (and the vibrations it causes to resonate
through the head), meaning, and written form of “a.”
The meditator generally seeks to merge his/her con-
sciousness with the syllable, which can be done, for ex-
ample, by visualizing it internally and letting it fill and
expand to encompass the whole mind. Often, meditators
use an image of “a” in a moon disk atop an eight-petaled
lotus flower.
Other forms of visualization include focusing on other
syllables or the deities of the Shingon pantheon. For ex-
ample, a meditator might sit across from a statue of a de-
ity and merge with it (mentally/spiritually). S/he might
visualize himself/herself as a syllable and then visualize
various transformations of that syllable (i.e., the “self”).
Other techniques include imagining a moon disk within
one’s self and then let it expand to engulf the self and
then the whole universe. The vibrations of the sound of
mantras can also engulf the self and then resonate with
the universe. Notice here that in all these techniques the
basic goal is to reduce or eliminate the sense of “I” as a
separate, individuated entity – which is the essence of all
Buddhism.
Tendai and Shingon, along with Pure Land and Zen (yet
to be studied) were the most influential forms of Bud-
dhism on medieval Japanese culture. Let us now take a
closer look at one aspect of that culture: literature dur-
ing the Heian period.

Basic Facts† for Shingon:

Founder: Kūkai (Kōbō-Daishi), early 9th century
Textual basis: Vairocana Sutra
Deity basis: Vairocana (Mahavairocana; Jp. Dainichi),
the Solar Buddha
Doctrinal summary: “Attaining Buddhahood in this
very body”
Key doctrines: Same as Tendai except for Vairocana’s
status
Sales pitch: “Six-fold bodily and spiritual content-
ment”
Broader significance: Greatly influenced Japanese art
& aesthetics
†(Do not just memorize these facts—understand them.)

Notes:
1. It is interesting to contrast this approach with the tendency in
Protestant Christianity to eliminate all forms of mental and physi-
cal imagery in the conception of deity, and thus, to apprehend God
or the divine through “pure” words alone. The same tendency also
exists in Judaism and Islam. Do you think such a thing is possible?
Buddhist enlightenment is also an imageless state of absolute
comprehension, but Buddhism acknowledges the need for inter-
mediary steps leading to such enlightenment, that is, for skillful
means. Catholicism has also taken this view (hence its name, with
“catholic” and “great vehicle” both indicating broad inclusive-
ness), but more hesitantly and to a lesser extent.
2. Would you like to read more about this matter? Then see
William R, LaFleur, The Karma of Words: Buddhism and the Liter-
ary Arts in Medieval Japan (University of California Press, 1983).
Japanese Iconography & Symbolic
Art Links and Resources
The Face of Buddhism and Shinto in Japanese Art  Identi-
fying Buddhist Images in Japanese Painting and Sculp-
ture

Before going through the specific types of Buddhist im-

ages, notice that, regardless of medium, Buddhist supe-
rior beings appear in a relatively small number of styl-
ized poses. In addition to standing, there are five basic
poses, which are shown here. There are, of course, nu-
merous minor variations for each pose. Buddhas and
Bodhisattvas are usually depicted in a relatively passive
even aloof pose, such as the half or full lotus or the
“wheel king” pose, which is also called the “posture of
royal ease.” When seated, if both feet are covered by
garments, most likely the Buddha or Bodhisattva is mak-
ing an appearance as an esoteric (Tendai or Shingon)
form. The hidden feet indicate the hidden or secret
teachings claimed by practitioners of esoteric Buddhism
to be means for attaining enlightenment in a single life-
time.
Usually, the feet are visible, and whether the right foot
is above the left or vice versa is significant. The right
foot out and higher than the left indicates the “demon
subduing” posture, and the left foot out and on top indi-
cates the “auspicious omen posture.” More specifically,
the right foot indicates a Buddha or the Buddha nature
in general. When it is on top, the Buddha nature sup-
presses the “demons” that are our desires (recall Mara’s
attack). But the left foot on top is also auspicious because
it means that the self has climbed up onto a Buddha and
is thus on the road to enlightenment. It is possible, but
rare, to find depictions of seated Buddhas with both feet
visible and above the thighs. This meditative posture
does not have any particular symbolism associated with
it other than indicating an enlightened being in general.
The wisdom kings and demi-gods usually appear in ac-
tive postures, many of which suggest vigorous motion.
Even when seated, there is usually some part of their
body, typically arms and/or face that suggests move-
ment. The dancing posture pictured above probably
originates with the Hindu deity Shiva, the cosmic dancer
who creates and destroys. In a Buddhist context, the
dance is usually regarded as an act of trampling, and the
deity is often depicted with something underfoot (a de-
mon, for example). Recall that the wisdom kings and
demi-gods (this latter type of entity is also known as a
deva) are more concrete manifestations of the Buddha
nature, and they assist with specific tasks or problems.
The wisdom king Gōzanze, “Conqueror of the Three
Worlds,” for example, tramples on a small imp repre-
senting human passions with his left foot and another
representing the obscuration of knowledge with his
right. In this way, he conquers the three worldly poisons
of greed, anger, and ignorance.

Nyorai (Buddhas, “Thus Come Ones”)

Simply stated, a Buddha is an enlightened being. We are
all potentially Buddhas because we all have the potential
for enlightenment. As Buddhism developed and split into
various denominations, the category of Buddha came to
be subdivided into various types. For example, a person
who attains enlightenment through his/her own effort is
one kind of Buddha, the cosmically-ordained Buddha
who appears at the start of a new 3-stage cycle (e.g.,
Shakyamuni) is another type, and the abstract Buddha
principle or Buddha nature, when spoken of as a distinct
entity, is yet another (e.g., Vairocana). And there were
other types of Buddhas. I mention this information as
general background. In this course we need not worry
about remembering the subcategories of Buddhas (al-
though, to some extent, we have encountered this mat-
ter in the Threefold-body doctrine of Tendai and in the
various manifestations of Vairocana in Shingon).
According to most schools of Buddhism, an enlightened
being will tend to manifest a set of thirty-two major
physical signs regardless of which sub-category of Bud-
dha it might be. There are also eighty or more minor
physical characteristics by which one might determine
the specific type of Buddha. Here, we concern ourselves
only with the thirty-two major characteristics, some of
which overlap each other. These marks are symbolic of
certain characteristics of enlightenment or of the histor-
ical Buddha’s situation. As such they are yet another va-
riety of skillful means, as is the broader project of de-
picting Buddhist entities. For reference, here is a list of
all thirty-two marks of a “great man” (i.e., an enlight-
ened being) according to the Lakshana Sutra:
(1) His feet have a level tread; (2) There are wheels on
the soles of his feet; (3) He has projecting heels; (4) He
has long fingers and toes; (5) His feet are soft and tender;
(6) His hands and feet are webbed; (7) His ankles are like
rounded shells; (8) His legs are like an antelope’s; (9) His
arms are so long that he can touch his knees with his
hands without bending; (10) His male organs are con-
cealed within a sheath; (11) His complexion is golden;
(12) His skin is so delicate that no dust adheres to his
body;  (13)  The down on his skin grows in single hairs,
one to each pore; (14) The down is blue-black and turns
upwards in little rings curling to the right; (15) His frame
is divinely straight; (16) His body has seven convex sur-
faces; (17) The font half of his body is like a lion’s; (18) 
There is no furrow between his shoulders;  (19) His pro-
portions have the symmetry of a Banyan tree;  (20) His
bust is equally rounded; (21) His taste is supremely
acute; (22) His jaws are like a lion’s;  (23) He has forty
teeth;  (24) He has regular teeth; (25) He has continuous
teeth; (26) His eye teeth are very lustrous; (27) His
tongue is very long; (28) He has a divine voice, like the
karavika bird’s; (29) His eyes are intensely blue; (30) His
eyelashes are like a cow’s; (31) Between his eyebrows is a
hairy mole (urna), white and soft like cotton down; (32)
His head is like a royal turban, with a bump in the mid-
dle (ushnisha). (Quoted in Meher McArthur, Reading
Buddhist Art: An Illustrated Guide to Buddhist Signs
& Symbols [ London: Thames and Hudson, 2002]: p.
95.)
Bellow I describe most of these marks, plus a few other
iconographic features, in paragraph form, sometimes
combining similar characteristics or ignoring less impor-
tant ones. The total number of points discussed will be
fewer than thirty-two. For our purposes, some of these
characteristics are more important than others, namely,
those that symbolize specific Buddhist teachings or
principles. Also, note that not all of these features are
evident in each particular depiction of a Buddha. The
same point goes for the other categories.
Yakushi as typical example of a nyorai
The skin and body of a Buddha are golden brown in col-
or, and the body radiates a golden light, the rays of
which are visible for three to four meters in all direc-
tions. In statuary and paintings, this glow is indicated by
a halo-like disk surrounding and to the back of the head.
The skin of a Buddha is tender, soft, smooth, and clean,
with no odor, warts, pimples, etc. The pores of the skin
emit a subtle fragrance, and no dirt or dust adheres to it.
Note that the adherence of dirt or dust to something
clean is a common Buddhist metaphor for pollution or
poison by desires, that is, for karmic accumulation. Body
hair (if present) flows, or is drawn, upward and to the
right. Its color is deep blue.
Atop the head is a fleshy protuberance. There are sev-
eral theories about it, the most common being that it is a
bag or growth necessary to hold the vast additional wis-
dom of a Buddha – extra brainpower in simple terms.
Note, however, that this extra brainpower is not neces-
sarily intellectual power. It is the wisdom of enlighten-
ment, which is much more profound. The hair on the
head is long and deep blue. It grows thick and is often
arrayed in small, circular curls that usually twist to the
right. it is always well groomed, with not a hair out of
place (example). Enlightened beings never have bad hair
days.
 The forehead is broad, oval, and flat. Between the eye-
brows is a single, white hair. It is wound tightly to the
right to form a bright circle that emits constant light
(like a light emitting diode [LED]). This light is the light
of a Buddha’s compassion, a quality especially stressed in
the various Mahayana forms of Buddhism. The eyebrows
are long, thin, and distinct, giving an air of royal distinc-
tion. Similarly, the earlobes are overly large and low be-
cause they have been stretched by the weight of jewels
(example). Recall that Shakyamuni was a prince. Some of
the features of an enlightened being stress the royal or
regal status of Shakyamuni. An abundance of jewels can
also suggest that the deity has something of value (Bud-
dhist teachings, the Three Treasures, etc.) with which to
alleviate suffering.
The eyes are large, and the golden pupils contrast with
the white of the rest of the eyeball. The eyes often look
like opened lotus leaves, and the eyebrows are long. The
nose is extremely high and straight; nostrils are usually
suggested but not depicted prominently as round holes.
The lips are red, and the open mouth reveals forty teeth
– compared with thirty-two teeth for ordinary people.
The teeth are all straight, with no gaps in between them.
The voice of a Buddha has a special quality: those far
away can hear it well, but it sounds refreshing, not like
shouting, to those nearby. It is symbolic of the universal
message of Mahayana Buddhism, which claims to have
something for everyone. The tongue, though not usually
shown in detail, is long, soft, and thin – like that of a
dragon (the dragon is a symbol of prosperity and good
fortune in East Asia).
Both cheeks are fleshed out. The cheekbones are not
high, and, if anything, tend to be lower than those of a
typical person, thus allowing some sag in the cheeks. The
overall point is to convey a sense of mildness, serenity,
and kindness. Compare this facial appearance with that
of many wisdom kings and demi-gods. The overall face of
a Buddha is not excessively long or short, nor is it large
or small. It is amicable and serene. A subtle fragrance
emanates from the face (as with the rest of the skin &
body). The outline of the face should resemble that of a
full moon, and it should be both clearly defined and ra-
diant. The face is always youthful, and it is depicted as
such even when the Buddha “died” at age 80. This ever-
youthful appearance, of course, suggests transcending
the ordinary process of samsara. The facial serenity indi-
cates the joy of enlightenment. Also, of course, the face
emphasizes the Mahayana ideal of compassion.
The hands and feet are soft and large – usually larger,
in proportion to the body, than those of ordinary people.
The palm is fat and soft, and the fingers are long and
slender. The nails are distinct, also being long and slen-
der and emitting a radiance. This radiance is rarely de-
picted, however. The hands and feet also have webbing
between the fingers and toes. This feature, combined
with the large size of the hands, indicates a Buddha’s
compassionate urge to save everyone. In other words,
nobody should slip through the saving hands of Buddha.
Notice here also the Mahayana ideal (or sales pitch),
namely, that we have something for everyone. In some
accounts, the webbing on the hand is reminiscent of, or a
vestige of, the time when Shakyamuni nearly fasted him-
self to death. This symbolism, of course, is not incompat-
ible with the message of compassion for all sentient be-
ings. Historically, the hands and feet of Buddha images
tended to get larger as time went on.
The naval is a deep indentation, sometimes spiral in
shape, winding to the right (like the hair). The genitalia
– in the extremely rare instances in which they might be
depicted (I’ ve seen only one case) – are indistinct in that
they are located inside the body. Iconographically, they
are indicated by a rightward spiral drawn or carved on
the crotch.
The flesh of the thighs is slender and round, and the
legs are smooth and straight. The joints tend to be hid-
den and indistinct. Sometimes this type of leg is de-
scribed as resembling that of the “deer king,” a term
whose exact meaning is unclear. It may well have some
connection to the place where Shakyamuni attained en-
lightenment: a deer park.
The bottom of the feet contain seven marks. Starting
from the bottom, first is the Brahma King’s Illumination.
This “mark” consists of at least two parts: an image of
the sun plus the 8-spoked wheel representing core Bud-
dhist teachings and an image of the Three Jewels (usual-
ly in the form of three mountain peaks). The message is
rather obvious, namely, that the light of Buddhist teach-
ing informs or permeates the Three Jewels.
In the version of the Buddha’s footprint (bussoku) 仏足
shown here, clouds are drawn in front of the mountain.
In other versions, they are draw below the sun, thus in-
dicating the ability of Buddhist teachings to illuminate
or break through that which obscures enlightenment
(especially desires). Moving upward, there is the thou-
sand-spoke wheel. It, too, symbolizes the sun, that is, the
illuminating light of Buddhism (recall the central impor-
tance of the Solar Buddha in Shingon). Above and to the
right is the diamond sword, or, alternatively, the dia-
mond staff. In either case, the meaning is essentially the
same as in Shingon, namely, that the diamond repre-
sents the eternal truth and power of Buddhist teachings.
To its left is a pair of fish, an auspicious symbol and a
legacy from Hinduism. Actually, the whole footprint is
patterned on the footprint of Vishnu in Hinduism. The
pair of fish is a classic symbol of Vishnu, and, according
to some schools of Indian religion, Shakyamuni was a
manifestation of Vishnu.
Moving left is a treasure vase indicating the great value
of Buddhist teachings. Next to it is the conch shell,
which was used as a horn for summoning or alerting
people. The horn’s amplification of sound indicates that
Buddhism is destined to spread far and wide. Finally, on
the large toe is either a flower or a burning moon; the
rest of the toes feature flowers, which are often written
simply as swastikas. The symbolism is vague here. The
Swastika is an old symbol in Buddhism, often used to
mark the place of a Buddhist temple. The flowers may
indicate the blossoming of Buddhism – perhaps in the
form of temples.
At the base of the neck of an enlightened being are
three rings of fat. They symbolize the three elements of
transmigration: 1) evil passions and the resulting delu-
sions; 2) any volitional act, good or evil; and 3) suffering.
The body in general appears strong, but without an ob-
vious source of strength such as bulging muscles. While
strong, it is also gentle and supple. A tremendous spiri-
tual power or charisma emanates from it. Usually, but
not always, a Buddha is depicted alone, without atten-
dants (a major exception is the Buddha Amida who is
functionally a Bodhisattva). The idea here seems to be
that Buddhas are so spiritually powerful that they need
no assistants, attendants, or guardians. When walking or
sitting, a Buddha does not actually touch the ground or
other relevant surface. Instead, he hovers above it. Of
course, this hovering is hard to depict, so one rarely sees
it in art.
There is some additional symbolism associated with a
nyorai. The robes of a Buddha are patterned after the
robes worn by low-caste workers in India while cleaning
toilets. This symbol contrasts with other markings sug-
gesting a royal background. The royal symbolism em-
phasizes the high level of attainment of a Buddha; the
robes emphasize the qualities of humility, compassion,
and a lack of concern for worldly status. Whether the
right shoulder is bare or both shoulders are covered does
not seem to have any particular significance in Japan.
The downward, unfocussed gaze of a nyorai suggests the
unlimited vastness of the cosmos and a lack of fixation
on worldly things. It invites the observer to meditate.
Statues of Buddhas are almost always male, but male fea-
tures are not emphasized. The original intention seems
to have been gender neutrality or at least gender vague-
ness.
 Specific Buddhas
In addition to being familiar with the physical character-
istics of a Buddha and the symbolism associated with
some of them, you should be able to identify the most
important nyorai and distinguish them from each other.
In doing so, the first place to look is the hand. Although
there are a small number of instances in which the
hands can be deceptive, in the vast majority of cases,
specific Buddhas can be identified by their mudra. For
example, we have already seen the two mudra of Vairo-
cana, the solar Buddha (review this material if you have
forgotten it). Here we examine several other nyorai.
Shakyamuni is relatively difficult to identify. Look
Closely at the hands of Shakyamuni in the images that
have already appeared above. Shakyamuni usually ap-
pears with the right hand held open and up, palm out,
and usually, but not always, with the middle finger
slightly extended. This mudra (called semui) means
“there is nothing to fear.” The left hand usually is held
down with the palm up, and usually, but not always, with
the middle finger slightly extended in a mudra (called
segan) that means “I fulfill my vow.” In the case of
Shakyamuni, his vow, which he put into practice by
preaching, was to save sentient beings from their suffer-
ing. These mudra do not specifically mean
“Shakyamuni,” and other Buddhas or Bodhisattvas may
employ them. The reason we can use them to identify
Shakyamuni is that they indicate qualities and practices
closely associated with Shakyamuni. But these qualities
and practices are also associated with other nyorai, es-
pecially Yakushi and Amida. Therefore additional data
and some degree of mental gymnastics is often needed to
clearly distinguish between Shakyamuni, Amida, and
Yakushi.
Before looking at Yakushi and Amida, however, there
are several alternative mudra for Shakyamuni. Some-
times, while seated, the right hand is held palm down
with one or more fingers touching the ground. This mu-
dra, which literally means “touching the
ground” (shokuchi) symbolizes Shakyamuni’s triumph
over Mara specifically, and the subduing of “demons”
generally – all with the earth itself as a witness. Meher
McArthur explains this matter as follows:
There are several versions of the legend of how the
Buddha came to call upon the earth as witness, but it is
generally believed that as the Buddha approached en-
lightenment, the evil King Mara sent armies of wicked
demons and numerous beautiful women to distract the
Buddha from his goal of obtaining enlightenment. The
Buddha was not stirred from his intense meditation, and
took the earth as witness of this achievement. Moments
later, he attained spiritual enlightenment. (Meher
McArthur, Reading Buddhist Art: An Illustrated
Guide to Buddhist Signs and Symbols [London:
Thames & Hudson, 2002], p. 115).
Of course, the term “demons” here really means de-
sires. So the mudra is sometimes called the “demon-sub-
duing” mudra or something similar. Because this mudra
is so closely related to a specific event in Shakyamuni’s
life, if you see it, the entity depicted is almost certainly
Shakyamuni. In a variation of this mudra, sometimes the
right hand points with one finger extended.
It is also possible that Shakyamuni might be depicted
holding a begging bowl in one or both hands. If in one
hand, it would be the left, in which case the right hand
would be in the semui (banishing fear) mudra. In such a
case, Shakyamuni would look very much like Yakushi,
but look closely at the bowl. If there is no cover, it is
Shakyamuni. If it has a cover, it is the medicine jar of
Yakushi. (Various Mudra of Shakyamuni)
Because Shakyamuni’s vow to assist sentient beings
took the form of preaching, he is sometimes depicted
with his hands in a preaching mudra. There are numer-
ous variations in preaching mudra, which are more
commonly seen in depictions of Amida, not Shakyamuni.
In preaching mudra, the palms are held outward and the
thumb touches one of the fingers. For Amida, as we shall
see, which finger the thumb touches is of some signifi-
cance. In the case of Shakyamuni using this mudra, he
often uses only one hand. In general, if the Buddhist im-
age uses two hands, each symmetrical to the other, it is
almost always Amida. If only one hand, is in the preach-
ing mudra or if the hands are widely separated and on
different levels, it is probably Shakyamuni.
(Two Chinese versions of Shakyamuni: Standing &
Seated)
Yakushi is relatively easy to distinguish by the medi-
cine jar, which is usually in his left hand (sometimes it
was there originally but is now missing). The right hand
is almost always in the semui (banishing fear) mudra.
Yakushi and/or some of his Bodhisattva manifestations
are sometimes called “Medicine King.” Like Amida and
Shakyamuni, Yakushi is a compassionate Buddha who
seeks to save and enlighten sentient beings with the
“medicine” of Buddhism. On rare occasions, Yakushi ei-
ther holds the medicine jar with two hands (and is then
very hard to distinguish from Shakyamuni), or, holding
the jar in his left hand, he holds a staff or other object in
his right hand. Like Amida, Yakushi is often pictured
with two attendants (example).
(A Chinese version of Yakushi, Yaoshi)
 Perhaps the most commonly depicted Buddha in Japan
is Amida, the central figure of Pure Land Buddhism,
which we examine in detail in a later chapter. Amida is
like Yakushi and Shakyamuni but, of the three, Amida is
most like a Bodhisattva, appearing from the heavens to
take certain people off to a paradise in the west at the
time of their death. Amida is usually pictured with two
attendants, and sometimes with a vast number of Bod-
hisattvas and lesser deities in his entourage. Often, he is
depicted with an especially large and bright halo, for
Amida means “Buddha of boundless light.” In addition to
these features, the easiest way to identify Amida is by his
mudra. There are nine of them, but, thankfully, all you
really need to remember are three.
Amida is an excellent example of Mahayana Buddhism,
not only simply because of his compassion. What is dis-
tinctive about Amida is the perspicacity he displays in
putting compassion into practice. He manifests compas-
sion in a variety of ways, each suited to different situa-
tions and different levels of understanding of the beings
he seeks to enlighten or save. Amida appears in three ba-
sic modes, each indicated by a different mudra. The first
mode is that of mental and spiritual serenity, expressed
by a mudra of meditative concentration, which indicates
the perfection of Buddhist teachings. This mudra looks
similar to that of Vairocana in the Womb World, but fea-
tures one set of fingers curled up – either the first, sec-
ond, or third set. Why the choice of finger sets? Because
each indicates a different level of sophistication with
which Amida manifests himself. It is not that Amida
himself is more or less sophisticated. Instead, he is able
instantly to adjust the depth of his manifestation, teach-
ing, and saving to suit the level of those who call upon
him for inspiration, knowledge, or salvation. Specifically,
there are three main modes, each of which has three
levels of sophistication. These levels of sophistication are
indicated by which finger contacts the thumb to form a
circle. The index finger indicates the a superior level, the
middle finger indicates a middle level, and the ring fin-
ger indicates a low level. The three modes and their
three levels make a total of nine different forms or mani-
festations of Amida.
The second mode is that of explaining Buddhist teach-
ings. As mentioned above, sometimes Shakyamuni is pic-
tured with his hands in this preaching mudra, but in his
case, the hands are usually held in different positions. By
contrast, Amida’s hands are in the same position, sym-
metrical to the middle of the body. This second mode in-
dicates a lower level of sophistication that the first
mode. The third mode is the most basic. It indicates sim-
ple faith in the power of Amida to save sentient beings
(hands close up) and bring them to his western paradise
(more on this matter in a later chapter). In rare cases it
is possible to find the fingers in the same mudra as the
second mode, but the hands are held in the position of
Shakyamuni’s semui-segan mudra.

(Be generally aware that the precise significance of

these nine forms is debatable. Indeed, although the
majority of Buddhist sources recognize the nine
forms as I have presented them here, there is a mi-
nority view that arranges the mudra differently. In-
stead of each mode making a horizontal row, each
makes a vertical column. Thus each row contains one
of each of the three modes, all at the same sophisti-
cation level.)

Because Amida most commonly operates in this most ba-

sic mode, depictions of him (especially paintings) often
show him descending from the sky – or from over the
top of distant mountains – to save those who have sin-
cerely called upon him to do so. This saving descent is
called raigō 来迎. Raigō scenes typically show Amida ac-
companied by numerous Bodhisattvas and celestial at-
tendants. (More images of raigō: image  image  image 
image)
(A Chinese version of Amida, Amitou)
 In looking at the various images of Shakyamuni,
Yakushi, and Amida, notice that their overall physical
appearance is similar or identical. All three have most
(theoretically all, but sometimes artists were unable to
fit them all in) of the thirty-two distinctive physical
signs of an enlightened being. To make a specific identi-
fication, it is necessary to examine the hands. By this
point, you should be able to identify these three nyorai
plus Vairocana in both the Womb World and Diamond
World forms. There are other nyorai, such as Maitreya,
the Buddha of the next cosmic cycle, and the remaining
two of the five wisdom Buddhas of Shingon (Ashuku and
Fukūjōju). You will rarely encounter them in Buddhist
imagery, so let us limit the list of identifiable Buddhas to
what we have done so far (plus Vairocana). One reason
that Shakyamuni, Yakushi, and, especially, Amida are so
often depicted in art is that, although Buddhas, they
function more like Bodhisattvas and are thus easier for
ordinary people to  imaginable than other, more abstract
Buddhas.

Bodhisattvas
Bodhisattvas are, for all practical purposes, enlightened
beings. The only difference between them and Buddhas
is that Bodhisattvas delay entry into nirvana to help sen-
tient beings. Therefore, they are generally depicted with
the same bodily features as nyorai. There are, however,
several differences, not all of which will be seen in all
cases. For one thing, Bodhisattvas often carry various
objects in their hands. Also, Bodhisattvas sometimes
take on a super-human form, which makes sense insofar
as they resemble deities in their existence on the
threshold of nirvana. Multiple heads and multiple arms
are the most common supernatural feature. Bodhisattvas
also usually wear an elaborate crown or other headdress
(as does the Buddha Vairocana in many cases, but usual-
ly not other Buddhas).
Let us take the case of the eleven-faced version of Kan-
non shown here as a typical example of a Bodhisattva.
Surrounding the figure are common hand-held objects
carried by this and other Bodhisattvas, as well as some
wisdom kings. The eleven faces symbolize the various
avatars (apparitional forms, kebutsu in Japanese – spe-
cific manifestations of the Buddha nature). The serene
main face is the stage of enlightenment. The other ten
faces represent stages on the way toward enlightenment,
each conquering one of the ten desires that block the at-
tainment of wisdom. (Incidentally, there is variation in
the arrangement of the faces/heads, that shown here be-
ing one of at least three possibilities.)
 With the water flask, Kannon tries to quench the thirst
of starving ghosts. It contains the nectar of his/her com-
passion. The lock of hair and the hair sash are typical
features of Budhisattvas. There seems to be no specific
symbolism associated with these features, at least not in
Japan. The fly whisk is used to sweep insects harmlessly
out of the way to prevent their accidentally being in-
jured or killed. Like the very similar feather duster, it
symbolizes the precept to do no harm to others. It also
symbolizes leadership or advanced practice of Bud-
dhism. These two meanings are closely related, for a su-
perior Buddhist would make great efforts to prevent
harming others, even so lowly a creature as a small in-
sect. The metal-ringed staff is also used to prevent harm
to animals, and to humans, by shaking it to make a noise
in areas, for example, where snakes are common. From
this basic meaning comes a more abstract one: warding
off the “demons” of desires. The staff of a Bodhisattva
typically contains six rings, symbolizing the six stages to
perfection in esoteric Buddhism or a host of other possi-
ble Buddhist-related sets of six.
The sutra carried by a Bodhisattva is rarely a specific
book. Instead, it stands for the whole corpus of the Bud-
dhist canon and therefore the truth of Buddhist teaching
in general. The lotus, as mentioned in an earlier chapter,
is a sign of purity amidst the “dirt” of worldly life. It is a
symbol of the Bodhisattva ideal, and it is a safe bet that
any image carrying a single, long-stemmed lotus is that
of a Bodhisattva. The diamond pounder is a simple ver-
sion of the vajra discussed in an earlier chapter. It has a
single point on each end. It symbolizes the oneness of
the universe, and, more specifically, the center axis of
the cosmos. The rosary is used in Buddhism like it is in
some forms of Christianity as a counter for prayers or
chants, and, in Japan, is especially associated with Shin-
gon. In traditional Buddhist iconography, it is specifical-
ly associated with Kannon, with each bead representing
a passion that Kannon helps to overcome. Similarly, the
beads can represent the many different manifestations
of Kannon.
With this description of Kannon in mind as a general
example, let us now identify several specific Bodhisattva.
As long as we are on the subject, let us start with Kan-
non.

Kannon
As you might have come to suspect by now, Kannon is a
manifestation of the compassion of the Buddha Amida.
Kannon is a rare example of a bodhisattva in female
form, at least in Japan. S/he was originally male in India
and gradually came to be depicted as female in China,
where she is known as Guanyin. Take a look at this male
version from an early Buddhist painting in China.
Essentially, Kannon is a more specific or concrete form
of the compassionate Buddha nature represented by
Amida. And, as we have seen, Kannon takes many differ-
ent forms. One form of the Bodhisattva (shown here) has
thirty-three different manifestations, and some other
forms of Kannon also feature multiple manifestations.
Kannon is the most frequently depicted Bodhisattva in
Japan, and, in addition to the eleven-headed form dis-
cussed above, s/he may also appear in other modes such
as the 1000-armed Kannon (though rarely was the
painter or sculptor able actually to depict 1000 different
arms). The many arms indicate Kannon’s desire to save
everybody – the classic Mahayana claim. There is also a
six-arm version.
(Several Chinese Kannon (Guanyin) images: Seated
 11-headed 6-armed Fish basket)

Fugen
Fugen’s name means, roughly, “universal wisdom,” and,
not surprisingly, he is a Bodhisattva embodying the
quality of wisdom. Especially popular in Japan, Fugen
figures prominently in Tendai and Shingon Buddhism (as
well as in Nichiren Buddhism, which we do not study
here, where Fugen is the guardian of the Lotus Sutra). He
is usually depicted standing or sitting on a lotus (one for
each foot if standing), and often the lotus itself sits atop
an elephant. If you see a Bodhisattva on an elephant, it is
usually, but not always, Fugen (the demi-god Taishaku
also rides an elephant). Because light is the main Bud-
dhist symbol for wisdom, Fugen can appear in overall
contexts which, at first glance, look much like depictions
of Amida’s descent (recall that Amida is the Buddha of
boundless light). The elephant, however, is a sure sign
that it is Fugen, not Amida. 
Less commonly, Fugen is featured with twenty arms.
Whether with two arms or twenty, Fugen may be depict-
ed holding a three-pronged vajra in one hand and a vajra
bell in the other. Sometimes he holds a copy of a sutra.
In other instances, his hands are folded as if in prayer or
his right hand makes the segan (granting of wishes; ful-
filling the vow) mudra.
(A Chinese version of Fugen, Puxian)

Monju
Like Fugen, Monju is also a Bodhisattva of wisdom. Is
there a difference between the two? Yes, in theory, each
represents a different kind of wisdom, but the distinc-
tion is sufficiently technical that we need not be con-
cerned with it here. In practice, few Japanese would have
made much of a distinction between Fugen and Monju.
The reason I mention Monju here is because at certain
times in Japan’s history, this Bodhisattva was very popu-
lar. Like Fugen, Monju appears in a number of forms, but
here we will be concerned only with his most common
form: atop a lion.
In general Buddhist thought, the lion is the king of an-
imals, and Buddhist legend often describes a lion attend-
ing to or serving an enlightened being. More specifically,
the lion came to be most commonly associated with
three enlightened beings: Vairocana and the Bod-
hisattvas Monju and Hokkai Kokūzō (whom we do not
study here). In Japan, it is Monju, not the others, who is
most commonly depicted on a lion. The basic symbolism
is that these beings are lions among humans and that the
wisdom of their teachings is (or should be) heard far and
wide, just like the roar of a lion.
The impressive statue of Monju shown here was made
by the monk Monkan in 1324 for the emperor Go-Daigo,
one of medieval Japan’s most important figures. As we
will see in more detail later, Go-Daigo sought to re-de-
fine radically the role of emperor in the manner of an
absolute monarch – much like the Chinese emperor. Go-
Daigo faced much opposition in this endeavor from a
military government (usually called a bakufu; sometimes
called a shogunate), which had emerged in the early
thirteenth century. Although he did succeed in destroy-
ing this military government, the planning and execu-
tion of Go-Daigo’s anti-bakufu campaign required more
than ten years and nearly failed several times. Monkan
was one of Go-Daigo’s supporters, and the statue is en-
graved “We pray that the Lord of the Golden Wheel is
successful,” a reference to Go-Daigo’s plans. There are
several signatories to this supplication, one of whom,
ironically, was a high-ranking official in the military
government. Little did he know what he was endorsing!
Like most of his contemporaries, Go-Daigo was a firm be-
liever in Buddhism. It is hard to say how sophisticated
his grasp of Buddhist doctrine was, but he certainly saw
Buddhism as a potent form of magic. We explore connec-
tions between Go-Daigo and Buddhism in several subse-
quent sections.
(A Chinese version of Monju, Wenshu)

Jizō
Jizō’s name literally means “earth storehouse,” and thus
he is sometimes called by names such awkward-sound-
ing names as the Earth Store Bodhisattva in English-lan-
guage books. Immensely popular in Japan especially, Jizō
is a Bodhisattva of compassion who is most commonly
associated with saving those reborn in hell. Because of
his (although almost always male in Japan, Jizō’s original
form in India was female) nature, Jizō is regarded as a
manifestation of Amida and a partner of Kannon. Some-
times Amida, Kannon, and Jizō are portrayed together in
a trinity. In depictions of the Six Courses, look closely
and you will see an enlightened being in the realm of
hell, and, often, in the other realms as well. This Bod-
hisattva is Jizō, ever ready to save the reborn from their
fate if only they will allow it. In Japan, Jizō’s roles ex-
panded. While he remained a savior figure in the context
of the Six Courses, various forms of Jizō became
guardians. Specific Jizō manifestations guard and assist
farmers in different ways, protect houses from fire, ask
the heavens to send down rain during droughts, and so
forth. Above all, the guardian forms of Jizō protect chil-
dren. Especially in this capacity, Jizō often appears as a
small statue by the roadside, or as a group of small stat-
ues. In short, Jizō in Japan became a beloved deity of or-
dinary people, especially peasants. As such, he typically
took on a relatively humble, down-to-earth appearance,
quite unlike other Bodhisattvas.
Jizō usually appears with relatively little adornment,
sometimes none at all. There is no distinctive mudra.
Most commonly, Jizō is depicted holding a ringed staff in
one hand and a wish-granting jewel (representing the
treasure of Buddhist teachings that liberate sentient be-
ings from their desires) in the other. In the picture here,
a rosary replaces the wish-granting jewel. In many de-
pictions, Jizō appears without any hand-held objects, of-
ten dressed as a monk.
(A Chinese version of Jizō, Dizang)

Two Case Studies: Go-Daigo and Tokugawa Ieyasu

Religion and politics were closely intertwined in me-
dieval Japan, as was the case throughout most of the
world in those times. Buddhism provided a rich store of
symbols and ideas upon which Japanese rulers often
drew to bolster their image. As we will see in greater de-
tail later, the rise of warriors to prominence brought the
Heian period to an end and ushered in a period of mixed
rule in which the civilian government relinquished a
substantial degree of its authority to a military govern-
ment. Emperor Go-Daigo was a strong willed sovereign
who was active in the early fourteenth century. He held
revolutionary ideas by which he tried to remake the im-
perial institution into a strong head of state. Although in
the end Go-Daido was unsuccessful in carrying out his
plans fully, he did manage to destroy the military gov-
ernment, or bakufu, in Kamakura. He died in 1339, with
the outcome of his revolution still undecided.
 A well-studied posthumous portrait of Go-Daigo is rich
in symbolism, much of it uncharacteristic of posthumous
imperial portraits in general. In it, the emperor sits on a
platform with two vajra in his hands. He wears a jeweled
hat or crown, and above him are three titles (which may
have been added to the portrait later by an artist other
than the original one). From fright to left, Go-Daigo is
“Great Bodhisattva Hachiman,” “Amaterasu,” and “Great
Deity of Kasuga.” Amaterasu is the solar deity in native
Japanese religion, from whom the emperors allegedly
descended in prehistoric times. After the arrival of eso-
teric Buddhism in Japan, Amaterasu came to be regarded
as a local form (i.e., a transformation body) of Vairocana.
Hachiman is a prominent deity in local Japanese religion,
who became, among other things, a local form of the
Buddha Amida. The Kasuga Shrine was originally the an-
cestral shrine of the Fujiwara family, and had become
highly popular in the capital region by the early four-
teenth century. We examine the Kasuga shrine in more
detail later, but the main point here is that Go-Daigo is
portrayed as both a living deity in native Japanese tradi-
tions and as a Bodhisattva (which, as we will see, was
typical).
More interesting is the way Go-Daigo himself appears
in the portrait. The jeweled crown is actually a simplified
depiction of what the real thing would have looked like,
presumably scaled down by the artist for ease of paint-
ing. The crown indicates that its wearer was an emperor.
Atop the crown is a solar disk. It is similar to the wheel
image of Buddhism, but in this case, the primary mean-
ing is to point out the solar heritage of the emperor. Of
course, doing so automatically links the emperor with
Vairocana as well as Amaterasu. This solar linkage is fur-
ther reinforced in a purely Buddhist way by the two va-
jra and the manner in which Go-Daigo holds them. Recall
Kūkai’s posthumous appearance resembling Kongōsatta,
the Bodhisattva who is a manifestation of Vairocana and
serves as his messenger. Go-Daigo’s pose here is no acci-
dent. Not only is the artist portraying him as a form of
Kongōsatta and thus reinforcing the solar link, but, most
likely, Go-Daigo is also tapping into the fame and larger-
than-life status of Kūkai, now better known as Kōbō-
Daishi. And it also would have called to most viewers’
minds several other vajra-wielding bodhisattvas. Indeed,
the Go-Daigo of this portrait is nearly identical with a va-
jra-wielding form of Fugen.
There are other indications of Go-Daigo’s divine status.
His outer robe is the so-called “toilet-cleaning robe” of a
Buddha. The original symbolism was that an enlightened
being was egoless and thus did not mind wearing so low-
ly a robe as that worn by people engaged in low-status
work like toilet cleaning. In Go-Daigo’s case, the robe
simply reinforces the presentation of him as a Bod-
hisattva. Look closely and you will also see that Go-Daigo
is seated upon an eight-petaled lotus flower. This depic-
tion would have brought to mind in most viewers the
eight-petaled center of the Womb World mandala. Again
the message is that this emperor was and is a divine be-
ing, a direct manifestation of Vairocana, the solar Bud-
dha.
Notice the stylized lion-like animals built into the base
of the platform on which he sits. These animals come
from Chinese mythology, but there may also be a con-
nection with Buddhism insofar as Buddhas, Bod-
hisattvas, and sometimes highly advanced monks some-
times sit on a lion throne (recall the discussion of Monju
above). The three powerful animals correspond to the
three deities whose names appear at the top of the por-
trait, thus linking native Japanese symbols of power with
Chinese counterparts. Also notice the two stylized lions
in front of the platform. They are functioning as
guardian deities (demi-gods), who typically guard the
gates of shrines and temples. All together, we find a
powerful symbolic presentation of Go-Daigo as a divine,
entirely legitimate head of state. The painting was made
at a time of political chaos in which two different imper-
ial courts each claimed authority to rule. As this case il-
lustrates, in the rhetoric of political legitimacy in me-
dieval Japan, Buddhism played the greatest role.
Moving a little beyond iconography, Go-Daigo is also an
excellent case study in the close links between Buddhism
and politics that prevailed in Medieval Japan. Through-
out most of his career, Go-Daigo’s goal was to destroy the
Kamakura bakufu as a prerequisite for reforming the
imperial institution. He forged an alliance with the
priest Monkan, who created an impressive statue of
Monju for the emperor (another Monju image created by
Monkan). Monkan did much more than that. Between
1326 and 1330, Monkan performed the Shingon fire cer-
emony (goma) on a regular basis. He did so ostensibly for
the health of a member of the imperial family, but the
rites were actually conducted for the destruction of the
bakufu. In other words, Monkan sought to array the
cosmic forces against the bakufu using an esoteric Bud-
dhist technique. Go-Daigo often personally observed
these ceremonies.
Go-Daigo did some radical things, which no emperor
had previously undetaken. In 1329, he personally per-
formed the “method of conquest” based on the esoteric
rites associated with the Hindu deity Ganesa, known
most commonly as Shōten 聖天 or Kangiten 歓喜天 in
Japanese. This secret Shingon deity was a sort of demi-
god, a category discussed below. Ganesa was an ele-
phant-headed deity, and in the Shingon version it ap-
pears as two embracing deities, one male the other fe-
male. Take a look at this peculiar deity. Go-Daigo’s per-
formance of the method of conquest was no passing odd-
ity in his day. Shōten was an extremely dangerous and
unpredictable deity. The complex method of conquest
rite had to be performed exactly right or Go-Daigo risked
serious harm. Such secret deities were the ultimate
weapons in Shingon’s arsenal. Here is a description of
the deity by Louis Frédéric:
A dispenser of wealth, he is supposed to have for-
midable power. He is invoked as the protector of the
state and of private individuals. Both masculine and fem-
inine, malevolent and benevolent, he is represented by
two tightly interlaced bodies. . . . the masculine portion
is merely a metamorphosis of Vairocana, and the couple
represents the intimate union of the faithful with the
Buddha, the principle of all things. . . . His image is never
shown to lay people. Special rites, including immersions
of the statue in oil, are attached to him. In the Japanese
sects, his dual nature symbolizes the intimate union of
the two great mandalas of the Shingon sect [the Womb
World and Diamond World mandalas].
The atmosphere of secrecy surrounding these images, ‘
and in general, everything associated with the god, ex-
plains why, in the Buddhist pantheon, he is one of the
very rare deities who inspires fear in the Japanese.’
[The two, embracing forms Shōten/Kangiten] is wor-
shipped secretly because they are supposed to possess
terrifying power. They are carefully sheltered from view
in small portable sanctuaries (Japanese zushi) in the
temples of the esoteric sects. (Louis Frédéric, Bud-
dhism [Paris: Flammarion, 1995], Nissim Marshall,
trans., pp. 267-268.)
So Go-Daigo was, for all intents and purposes, dabbling
in the occult and calling upon the power of the Vairo-
cana in dangerous form. Notice, incidentally, that de-
spite the worldly uses to which this deity was put, it can
be interpreted in a lofty manner as the unity of the faith-
ful and the Buddha nature.
Go-Daigo’s occult-like practices did not stop at Shōten.
In 1333, while waging war against the Bakufu, Go-Daigo
personally performed rites connected with an obscure
deity called Dakini 荼枳尼. “Dakini” means “sky walker,”
and generally refers to a female deity possessing super-
natural wisdom and thus great power. This deity took
various forms, and the one Go-Daigo utilized was that of
a warrior figure (called Shin’ ō, who leads emperors to
victory) riding atop a fox. In Japan and throughout East
Asia generally, the fox was a notorious shape-shifting,
trickster animal. This version of Dakini was regarded as
an avatar of Monju, a bodhisattva closely connected with
Go-Daigo as we have already seen. Ultimately, therefore,
Dakini was a manifestation of Vairocana. The main point
here is that again we find Go-Daigo personally invoking
the power of mysterious and dangerous Shingon deities.
He was going for broke and had nothing to loose. No em-
peror before or after Go-Daigo seems to have dabbled in
the so-called “left-handed Tantrism” that formed a
small, secret part of Shingon (in Japan, left-handed
Tantrism, which relied heavily on sexual rites, was asso-
ciated with the Tachikawa School of Shingon).
With this analysis of Go-Daigo in mind, let us turn
briefly to a later ruler, Tokugawa Ieyasu. Ieyasu was not
an emperor. He was a general who founded a military
government that lasted from 1603 until 1867. Of relative-
ly humble origins but possessing vast military power in
his later years, Ieyasu was much concerned with symbol-
ic legitimization of himself and the line or rulers he
founded. Not being an emperor, it would not have been
convincing for him to claim to be a direct manifestation
of Amaterasu. Furthermore, esoteric Buddhism was less
prominent in Ieyasu’s day, and his own primary affilia-
tion was Pure Land Buddhism. Still, Ieyasu’s posthumous
deification was a similar process to that of Go-Daigo.
 With the assistance of Buddhist advisors, Ieyasu
arranged to have himself deified as “The Great Avatar
Shining in the East.” This title is prominently displayed
in the portrait shown here (top right line of text, in bold
characters). Upon his death, complex funeral rites for-
malized the deification, and Ieyasu’s body was enshrined
in a massive, gaudy temple/mausoleum at Nikkō. The
Nikkō temple remains a major tourist attraction today
owing to its sheer grandeur (and there is a moderately
well-known proverb that goes: “Don’ t say kekkō [splen-
did!] until you see Nikkō”). This temple was loosely affil-
iated with Tendai Buddhism, and, as you may have al-
ready guessed, the great shining “avatar” was one of the
many manifestations of Vairocana. The link to Vairocana
also linked Ieyasu with Amaterasu, albeit indirectly. No-
tice also the pair of stylized lions “guarding” Ieyasu-as-
deity.
In short, Tokugawa Ieyasu, whose capital city lay to the
east of the imperial court, attempted to establish himself
in death as being on a religious par with the emperors.
In the realm of ordinary politics and military affairs,
Ieyasu vigorously established and displayed his superior-
ity to both the emperor and any of the many local war-
lords by doing such things as constructing a large castle
near the imperial palace and parading massive armies
past it. But sheer force needs some degree of symbolic,
religious, and/or ideological legitimization for effective
translation into a lasting system of government. In his
attempt to construct a convincing symbolic argument in
support of his and his descendants’ authority to rule,
Tokugawa Ieyasu turned to the tried and true tradition
of Buddhism. (Many basic textbooks still repeat the tired
old notion that Ieyasu turned to Neo-Confucianism as a
ruling ideology. There is no indication, however, that
Ieyasu had any personal interest in this body of knowl-
edge. Furthermore, there is no indication that any major
official in the military government at this time was
knowledgeable of or was interested in Neo-Confucian-
ism.)

Wisdom Kings
In general, wisdom kings symbolize the triumph of Bud-
dhist practice over desires. As we have already seen,
wisdom kings tend to be more specific, concrete, and
narrowly focused than the Bodhisattvas. Although they
have some of the physical characteristics of an enlight-
ened being, they also differ significantly. The most obvi-
ous difference is the fierce appearance of most wisdom
kings compared with the serene countenance of most
Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Why the fierce appearance?
Because wisdom kings are one aspect of the Bodhisatt-
va’s compassion, namely, the fierce determination to
prevail over obstacles and a dislike for those obstacles. A
minority theory holds that the wrathful appearance of
wisdom kings is a manifestation of the wrath of frustrat-
ed Buddhist practitioners. Either view, however, is ulti-
mately the same because of the Buddha nature that in-
heres in all sentient beings. Are wisdom kings enlight-
ened beings? Yes and no. In the sense that they are spe-
cific aspects of the Buddha nature, their enlightenment
may be seen as incomplete. On the other hand, as mani-
festations of compassionate Buddhas and Bodhisattvas,
wisdom kings, too, must be enlightened.
Wisdom Kings are typically depicted as active. Even
when seated, their arms and overall expression indicate
active battle against the forces standing in the way of
enlightenment. And many are not seated, but instead
appear like dancers, vigorously taking a stand against
desires and other spiritual hindrances. In taking their
stands, wisdom kings typically employ many hand-held
objects. Identifying specific wisdom kings usually de-
pends on a combination of posture, hand-held objects,
throne, and, sometimes, mudra.
(A typical Chinese depiction of a wisdom king)
 We have already examined Japan’s most popular wis-
dom king, Fudō. Let us turn now to another popular wis-
dom king, Aizen (sometimes pronounced “Aisen”) whose
name literally means “soaked with love.” Though fear-
some in appearance, this wisdom king acts only out of
love for others. In Japan, Aizen is thought to control the
amorous passions, redirecting them to ward the struggle
to overcome desires. He is the patron deity of dyers, pos-
sibly because the second part of his name means “dye”
or “to dye” (hence “soaked”). When colored, he is typi-
cally bright red, suggesting the force of the passions, yet,
at the same time, the vigor of his compassion. His lion
headdress indicates that Aizen possesses the strength of
the five wisdom Buddhas. His three eyes are able to see
the “three realms” of 1) desire, 2) form, and 3) non-form.
His mouth is usually half-opened and reveals fangs. His
hair is fiery and stands on end. Like Fudō, Aizen is often
surrounded by flames, which indicate the burning power
of the passions. Aizen is usually seated on a lotus throne
and carries a lotus flower in one of his four arms.
The most distinctive feature of Aizen is his bow and ar-
row, which is the best way to identify him (though it is
sometimes missing). Interestingly, experts on Buddhist
iconography are not agreed about the precise meaning
of the bow and arrow. All agree that it is a weapon
against evil. Furthermore, according to some, it chases
away carelessness and neglect (in observing Buddhist
precepts). For others, the arrow is Aizen’s love (some-
what like Cupid’s arrow), and, in another theory, it is the
conquering strength of wisdom. Sometimes, Aizen holds
a small mirror, a symbol of the void in Buddhism. He
typically appears with six arms, but sometimes with only
four.
The third (review earlier material on Fudō if necessary)
and last specific wisdom king that we consider here is
Gōzanze 降三世明王, whose name literally means “Con-
queror of the three worlds.” He is a messenger of Ashuku
(one of the five Buddhas of wisdom in Shingon), and the
three “worlds” he conquers are usually regarded as ei-
ther: 1) desire/passion; 2) hatred/anger; 3) ignorance
(Cf. inner part of the Six Courses wheel) or, stated slight-
ly differently, 1) greed; 2) ignorance; 3) anger. The term
“three worlds” in Buddhism usually means past, present,
and future, that is, samsara. Here, Gōzanze conquers the
elements that constitute and perpetuate samsara.
Gōzanze is rich in symbolism and relatively easy to
identify. Perhaps the easiest way to identify him is by his
distinctive mudra called niwa, which means “two
wings.” Little is known about the origins of this relative-
ly obscure mudra, but it seems to indicate the high in-
tensity of wisdom king’s wrath toward the forces that
prevent the attainment of enlightenment. In some theo-
ries, this mudra is the equivalent of a vajra and indicates
the wisdom king’s diamond-like strength. Although
sometimes depicted in a seated posture, Gōzanze is usu-
ally in a dynamic pose, trampling with his left foot on
Maheshvara-Shiva (Jp. Daijizai-ten 大自在天), who rep-
resents human passions. The right foot either tramples
on or is supported by Shiva’s spouse, Parvati, (Jp. Dai-
jizai-tennyo), who represents the obscuration of the ob-
jects of proper knowledge.
Gōzanze is usually depicted with eight arms and four
heads. The first pair of arms make the mudra, and the
others typically hold the following objects: a vajra, a
sword, a bow, an arrow, a pointed staff, a snare (some-
times a rosary instead), and sometimes a bell. Taken as a
whole, they are the weapons with which he subdues the
three worlds. We have already seen all of these objects
except the pointed staff, which, apparently, originated
from an elephant goad (i.e., a tool used to prod elephants
to get them to move). The four faces express the follow-
ing emotions: front-center face = amorous fury; right
face = anger; left face = disgust; back face (not visible) =
heroism.
(Chinese version of Gōzanze, Xiansanshi)
 There are several other wisdom kings that are moder-
ately common in Japanese Buddhism, especially Gundari
and Dai’ itoku. In the interest of moving along, however,
we omit them here.

Demi-Gods
There are many lesser deities that arrived in Japan along
with Tendai and, especially, Shingon. These deities typi-
cally act as guardians, and they originated as Hindu
deities in India. They are superior beings, but they are
not fully enlightened. Because of their superior level of
attainment, the demi-gods (known by the general term
ten in Japanese) have attained super-human powers and
will live a very long time. Eventually, however, they will
be subject to death and rebirth, at least in theory. In
practice, they have become objects of popular devotion
in Japan and are commonly regarded as manifestations
of local deities. The demi-gods serve Buddhism by doing
things such as guarding the gates of temples, guarding
certain directions, crushing or trampling on demons,
and bringing about good fortune at the local level. They
are almost never depicted with multiple arms or heads.
Instead, they are very nearly human in appearance.
There are so many demi-gods, that we need not get
bogged down in the minutia of which is which. Instead,
we take the most common of them, Niō, as a typical ex-
ample.
Niō’s name literally means “benevolent king,” and he
serves as a guardian, whose statue is common at or near
the entrances to temples. In this capacity, he commonly
appears in two different, complementary forms, called
“a” and “un.” The a form of Niō appears with his mouth
open and functions to expel or destroy demons. The un
form appears with his mouth closed and keeps unworthy
people, especially thieves, out of the temple. They some-
times appear clad in armor, but more commonly they
are dressed only in a sarong that appears to be blowing
in the wind. This wind is caused by the reverberations of
the Buddhist teachings and the rush of people flocking
to hear them.
The dual-formed nature of Niō may reflect the influ-
ence of yin-yang ideas that came to Japan from China
(pronounced on-myō or in-yō in Japanese). The dual (a-
un) forms of Niō function as granters of wishes in popu-
lar lore. They may also function as protectors of chil-
dren, somewhat like Jizō.

Mappō the Buddhist Eschatology

Recall from the introductory material on Buddhism that
one of the characteristics of the Mahayana forms of
Buddhism is a theory of cosmic cycles in which a Buddha
appears to show others how to attain enlightenment.
Then, as time goes on, this Buddha’s teachings deterio-
rate, leading eventually to a long period of general mis-
ery and social unrest. Then, a new Buddha appears to
start another cycle. Thus, there has been a series of cos-
mically-ordained Buddhas in human history, with
Shakyamuni simply being the most recent, that is, the
Buddha for the present cycle. Of course, it is possible
that other Buddhas have existed since Shakyamuni in
the form of people who have attained enlightenment.
The theory of cosmic cycles pertains only to the Buddhas
that appear as part of the cosmic order of things. In
broader metaphysical terms, these periodically-appear-
ing Buddhas are manifestations of the very “Buddha-
ness” or Buddhahood of the universe. In Tendai and
Shingon theological terms, these recurring Buddhas are
the attainment bodies of the cosmic Buddha nature
(which, of course, would be personified as Vairocana).
The term mappō literally means something like “end of
the dharma.” It is the last of the three temporal stages
Buddhism mentioned earlier: the true dharma, the sem-
blance dharma, and the last dharma. Let us examine
some of the details of this theory, which came into Japan
along with the vast corpus of Buddhist texts from India,
China, and Korea. Among the first Japanese Buddhists to
act on the implications of the theory of mappō was
Saichō, the founder of Tendai. Recall that Saichō was ac-
tive at the start of the Heian period. At this time, the
theory of cosmic cycles, while known to some monks,
was not generally a concern among the Japanese aristoc-
racy or clergy.
According to the theory of cosmic cycles, the age of the
true dharma is characterized by three qualities: 1) theo-
ry or teachings, 2) the practice of those teachings, and 3)
true insight capable of leading to enlightenment. In the
age of the semblance dharma, Buddhists go through the
motions of practice (2), but without benefiting from
them owing to worldly corruption. Therefore, they will
not attain true insight (3). So in the semblance age, 1 and
2 are present, but not 3. In the final age, 2 is also gone.
Though some may claim to be practicing Buddhism, they
do not even go through the motions correctly, and dis-
putes between monks and religious factions become
heated. The teachings themselves (1) remain (recall that
they are the unchanging essence of the diamond world
in esoteric Buddhism), but nobody really understands
them, much less putts them into practice.
By Saichō’s calculations, the true dharma age lasted
500 years; the semblance dharma age 1000. Based on the
traditionally accepted death of Shakyamuni, which was
significantly earlier than the estimates of most scholars
today, Saichō thought that he lived right at the start of
mappō. Not everyone accepted Saichō’s timing. Recall
that some regarded the true dharma age to last 1000
years, not 500. Also, there were two possibilities for the
semblance dharma age, 500 or 1000 years. Why? The
main reason seems to be the discussion of time periods
found in a scripture called the Great Collection Sutra.
According to it, there are five 500-year periods (go-go-
hyakusai) after the death of the Buddha during which
teachings and practice decline. Each period is character-
ized by a particular feature: 1) firm attainment of libera-
tion (gedatsu kengo), 2) steadfast practice of meditation
(zenjō kengo), 3) steadfast hearing of Buddhist teaching
(tamon kengo), 4) building of many temples (zōji kengo),
and 5) steadfast engagement in doctrinal disputes (tōjō
kengo). For Saichō, the first of these five constituted the
age of the true dharma,  the second and third were the
semblance dharma, and the final age began with the
fourth, that is, the massive building of temples.
Notice that there is room here to make the true dhar-
ma last either 500 or 1000 years and the semblance
dharma last either 500 or 1000 years. Another possible
area of flexibility concerns the length of mappō itself.
Might it last only 500 or 1000 years instead of the 10,000
years according to conventional belief? Another factor
that added flexibility to the periodization was different
dates for the Buddha’s death, some several centuries
apart.
In any case, Saichō thought that he lived at the very
start of mappō. He had other evidence to support this
belief. For one thing, another Buddhist theory claimed
that typical human life spans varied, from about 80,000
years at the longest to ten at the shortest, that is, during
the depths of mappō. That typical life spans were well
under 100 years in Saichō’s day further pointed to the
conclusion that final age was at hand. The short life
spans were part of a larger collection of symptoms of the
approach of mappō. The full list is called the “Five De-
filements” (gojoku), which are: 1) famines plagues, wars,
etc.; 2) the arising of false views; 3) intensification of evil
passions; 4) rejection of moral laws and the physical and
mental degeneration resulting therefrom; and 5) short
life spans. According to Buddhist theology, although
these defilements began to appear when human life
spans went below 20,000 years, they became especially
obvious when life spans went below 100 years. Of course,
think of our own times. Does it not seem that the Five
Defilements are intensely present? And such a case could
be made at virtually any point in human history. In any
case, for Saichō, all the evidence pointed to entry into
mappō. Regarding this point, Nakano Masayuki argues
convincingly that many of Saichō’s activities in estab-
lishing Tendai on Mt. Hiei reflect an active attempt on
his part to protect both the state and Buddhist teachings
during the impending last age.1
Few other Japanese at that time, however, shared
Saichō’s sense of doomsday. Using the variables in tim-
ing described above, other Buddhists in the ninth centu-
ry said that mappō was over two centuries away and
would not start until 1052. Furthermore, few Japanese
outside of the elite members of the clergy knew much
about the more sophisticated doctrines of Buddhism
during the first century of the Heian period. By the end
of the period, however, many things had changed. First,
nearly all monastic and aristocratic Japanese were famil-
iar with the major doctrines of esoteric Buddhism. Sec-
ond, it became increasingly difficult to theorize the start
of mappō farther into the future, especially after 1052.
Third, from the standpoint of the aristocracy especially,
it seemed as if society was indeed entering a period of
major decline. Problems collecting revenues from shōen,
political strife between the emperor and retired emper-
or, the increasing power of warriors and the increasing
frequency of warfare, the decline of the central civilian
government’s authority, and the increasingly apparent
corruption of the Buddhist establishment all contributed
to anxiety concerning entry into mappō.
 That this anxiety became acute is not to say that all
learned Japanese understood mappō in the same way. A
small number of Buddhists rejected the theory entirely,
and those who accepted it were not unanimously agreed
about the timing. By the start of the Kamakura period,
however, most of the prominet Buddhists agreed that
the world was in the final stage. The priest Myōe
(1173-1232), for example, stated that “Although I am
here in the human realm, it is far distant from [the time
of] the [Buddha’s] existence in this world. Although I
have concentrated on his teachings, I was born in a far-
away, forsaken land in a degenerate age.” (Quoted in
Yoshiro Tamura, Japanese Buddhism: A Cultural His-
tory, Jeffrey Hunter, trans. [Tokyo: Kosei Publishing
Co., 2000], p. 104.) In this statement we also see con-
cern that Japan was geographically so far from India that
the practice of Buddhism would suffer. Other prominent
Buddhists also lamented that Japan was on the geo-
graphical periphery of the Buddhist world (the center of
which was in India). In the terminology of the time,
Japan was a “zokusankoku” 粟散国, a term that likened
it to a scattered grain of millet. In short, both time and
space were unfavorable to Buddhist enlightenment.
Although there was always some disagreement about
the exact characteristics of the age, nearly everyone
agreed that they were living in a time of relative decline.
The key issue, therefore, was how one should react to
these conditions, and there was substantial disagree-
ment on this point. In other words, was there anything
people could do about mappō? How could or should
Buddhism be altered to suit the conditions of the time?
Is it still possible to become enlightened, or at least to
avoid rebirth in the lower realms of existence, while in
the present, degenerate age? These were the sorts of
questions on the minds of many elite Japanese in the
eleventh and twelfth centuries, and, to some extent, all
the way up to the seventeenth century.
Even those who rejected the theory of cosmic cycles
had to discuss and deal with it. In short, mappō was the
defining issue not only in theology, but also in the liter-
ary, dramatic, and visual arts of mid-medieval Japan. As
William R, LaFleur points out:
[I]t is important to realize that people in the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries of Japan’s history were deeply ab-
sorbed in a debate as to whether the entire world had
just entered a necessarily evil era called mappō, the final
epoch of the current Buddhist cycle. Many of those who
embraced this idea had calculated that as of the year
1052 . . . there had commenced a lengthy period during
which the correct understanding and practice of Bud-
dhism had been virtually nonexistent. . . . Some took the
calculations to be correct and the current laxity of
monastic discipline as proof that the theory was true.
Others, especially the Zen master Dōgen (1200-1253), ar-
gued against the mappō theory; they held that the possi-
bility of understanding and practicing Buddhism was as
good as it had ever been and that theories such as that of
mappō were merely mental contrivances by which shal-
low understanding and loose practice were rationalized.2
Before looking at those aspects of culture affected by
mappō, let us examine the mappō-influenced rise of two
important forms of Japanese Buddhism: Pure Land and
Zen. It also influenced a third variety of Buddhism,
Nichiren, but it is beyond the scope of this course. In
theory, both Zen and Pure Land were attempts to broad-
en the participation in Buddhism to everyone. In prac-
tice, for reasons that should become obvious, Pure Land
did succeed in popularizing Buddhism among ordinary
people, whereas Zen tended to appeal only to a very nar-
row segment of the population, at least in its strict
froms.

Pure Land
Despair and hope were important themes in the litera-
ture of the Kamakura period. The despair came from the
general theory of mappō described above, combined
with concrete conceptions of the cycle of birth, death,
and rebirth. This cycle is called Rokudō in Japanese, lit-
erally, “Six Courses” (alternatives: “Six Paths,” “Six
Realms”). Upon death, as the theory goes, all living crea-
tures are reborn into one of these courses for their next
life. Deeds in that life help influence the particular
course of rebirth in the next life, and so on without stop
until attainment of nirvana. At that point, one would be
out of the cycle. The Six Courses generally included the
realm of Buddhas, the realm of deities, the realm of hu-
mans, the realm of beasts, the realm of starving ghosts,
and the realm of hells. Sometimes the Buddhas were left
out, to indicate that Buddhas were outside the cycle, re-
ducing the number of realms to five. Sometimes the
realms of humans or beasts were divided each into two
subcategories. Regardless of these minor variations in
details, the basic point remained the same in any con-
ception of the Six Courses.
Moving up in the six courses (i.e., from human to deity)
was fine, of course, but in the alleged age of mappō,
many feared that moving up would be impossible. Most
people, the thinking went, were destined for rebirth in a
lower realm. The possibility of descending into one of
the many hells, each described in vivid detail in art and
literature of the Kamakura and Muromachi periods, in-
fused Buddhist practices with a sense of urgency.
 The hopeful dimension of Buddhism during this time
derived from the several conceptions of escape from the
Six Courses, many of which seemed, at least on the sur-
face, relatively simple. One of these conceptions of es-
cape involved reliance on the saving power of some out-
side, benevolent entity. The most popular savior figure
in Japanese Buddhism from early Kamakura times on-
ward was Amida, a Buddha of compassion and mercy. In
one Buddhist scripture, Amida vowed to save anyone
who would invoke his name with sincerity. A new form
of Buddhism (study first main section) was born from
this scriptural passage.
This new form of religion was Pure Land Buddhism
(jōdo 浄土) The founder of Pure Land Buddhism in Japan
was the priest Hōnen (1133-1212 image). Hōnen began
his career through the usual course of training at one of
Japan’s leading temples. At age forty-three, he read an
essay by a Chinese Buddhist, which claimed that contin-
ual recitation of the name of Amida was the best way to
salvation. Hōnen realized the truth in this essay, left the
temple, went into the streets of Kyōto, and began
preaching the good word to people of all walks of life:
one need only recite Amida’s name with sincerity to at-
tain release from the Six Courses.
 The basic teaching of Pure Land Buddhism is that be-
cause we live in Buddhism’s degenerate age, it is no
longer possible to rely in one’s own power (jiriki) to
achieve enlightenment and salvation. The Buddha him-
self, of course, achieved salvation through his own pow-
er, but the times in which he lived were different. In to-
day’s world of mappō, the only option is to relinquish all
hope of effecting our own salvation. Instead, we must
rely on the power of another (tariki), namely Amida.
When a person utters Amida’s name with complete sin-
cerity, true to his vow, Amida will save her or him. Upon
death, instead of traveling through the Six Courses, the
saved person will go directly to Amida’s Western Par-
adise. The standard formula for reciting Amida’s name
was, and is, “Namu Amida butsu” (Praise to the Buddha
Amida!). Said once with sincerity, the speaker would be
bound for the Western Paradise after death. Remember
this phrase should you find yourself in a situation in
which the end appears near at hand. Amida’s descent
into the world of humans to save those who have in-
voked his name is known as raigō, and raigō was a major,
hopeful theme in medieval Japanese art. ( Example of
raigō)
Given the description above, Pure Land Buddhism
might appear merely silly. Why even have a religion if
the point is simply to say three words? Indeed, Pure
Land monks in Japan began taking up ordinary, secular
lives in the generation after Hōnen. There is more to
Pure Land doctrine, however, than meets the eye. The
key is in the word “sincerity.” What does it mean to be
“sincere” in this instance? “Sincerity” refers to a psy-
chological state that is actually quite difficult to attain.
Try to imagine the absence of any sense that one can
control his or her own destiny. Imagine the state of rely-
ing 100% on something outside one’s self. This state of
mind is actually the same egoless state for which any
other form of Buddhism would aim. In this sense, there-
fore, Pure Land Buddhism is anything but easy, which is
one reason serious practitioners typically recite “Namu
Amida butsu” repeatedly, day in and day out. The recita-
tion becomes a form of meditation in which one dis-
places one’s own sense of self onto an outside agency – a
process, ironically, requiring considerable reliance on
one’s own powers. Notice that for advanced practition-
ers, the distinction between jiriki and tariki dissolves,
just as other distinctions and dichotomies similarly dis-
solve in the process of attaining enlightenment.
Shinran inherited Hōnen’s place at the helm of Pure
Land Buddhism and took the logic of Hōnen’s teachings
several steps further. For example, Shinran abandoned
many of the key formal elements of a monk’s lifestyle
and appearance. He even got married. Calling his version
of Pure Land “true” Pure Land (Jōdo Shinshū), Shinran
worked particularly hard at spreading Pure Land teach-
ings far and wide among ordinary people. Thanks to
these efforts, in the early Kamakura period Buddhism fi-
nally spread to the masses of ordinary Japanese on a
large scale. And more Japanese today are affiliated with
Pure Land Buddhism than with any other variety of Bud-
dhism or any other religion.

Zen
Another form of Buddhism, Zen (禅, Chan in Chinese),
became prominent during the Kamakura and Muro-
machi periods. The word zen means “meditation.” The
origins of Zen, according to the standard tale, an Indian
monk who came to be known as Bodhidharma arrived in
China to teach a meditative form of Buddhism. There are
numerous far-fetched tales of Bodhidharma’s activities,
such as the time he ripped out his eyelids and threw
them on the ground in disgust (they kept shutting dur-
ing meditation, causing him to fall asleep). From these
eyelids sprang the first tea plants (caffeine connection).
When word spread of this monk’s remarkable meditative
powers, potential students came to seek out his instruc-
tion. But Bodhidharma would pay no attention to such
seekers unless they demonstrated an unfaltering will
and determination to pursue the Buddhist path.
Zen has traditionally been much concerned with the
personal master-to-disciple link, and the official history
of Zen revolves around a series of “patriarchs” who car-
ried on the teaching of Boddhidharma in China. Hui
Neng, the Sixth Patriarch, is especially famous. Although
now known by its Japanese name, Zen did not become a
prominent form of Buddhism in Japan until the Kamaku-
ra period. Even then, it never became popular in the
sense of having large numbers of serious followers.
Why? Because it was just too demanding and rigorous.
In contrast with Pure Land Buddhism, which took the
approach of complete reliance on another, Zen took the
approach of complete reliance on one’s own power. In
many respects, Zen was a back to basics movement with-
in Buddhism. It rejected elaborate temples, rituals and
scriptures. It took the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, as
a model for all people. The Buddha did not rely on any
external agency. He attained enlightenment and salva-
tion through his own hard work and meditation. He used
no books, no temples, no religious rituals. According to
Zen teaching, even in today’s degenerate age – indeed,
all the more so because the age is degenerate – a return
to the simple, original path of Shakyamuni will lead in-
dividuals to enlightenment and salvation.
 Zen is, or is supposed to be, no-nonsense hard work.
Monks live in austere quarters and devote most of their
day to hard physical labor cleaning and maintaining the
temple. Sessions of meditation are the only lengthy
breaks in the regimented labor of Zen temple life. Medi-
tation is the single most important aspect of Zen prac-
tice. Monks spend hours daily seated in meditation at-
tempting to eliminate their egos and see the world for
what it really is.
Because of the rigors involved in Zen practice, it never
became anywhere near as popular as did Pure Land Bud-
dhism. Which would you rather do, sit for hours a day in
meditation while living a Spartan life or chant “Namu
Amida butsu” and live an otherwise ordinary life?
Zen Buddhism had a significant influence on the art
and literature of the Kamakura and Muromachi periods
(famous Zen garden). Because the state of enlightenment
is something that cannot be described in words (much
like the dao of the early Daoists in China), Zen developed
a wealth of drawings, parables, paradoxical riddles, and
other devices intended to challenge ordinary, common-
sensical ways of thinking and to explain, albeit partially,
the nature of true enlightenment.
There are two major varieties of Zen: sōtō (gradual)
and rinzai (sudden). The difference between them is rel-
atively minor – both seek the goal of attaining enlight-
enment (satori) through meditation and struggle. Sōtō
sees the path to enlightenment as a gradual accumula-
tion of insights gained through long, steady meditation
over many years. The main technique in sōtō Zen is seat-
ed meditation (zazen). Rinzai is named after the Chinese
Zen master Linji (Rinzai in Japanese), who was noted for
his large fist, which he frequently used as an educational
device. Zen, especially Rinzai Zen, does not spare the rod
as part of the training of novice monks. Rinzai regards
enlightenment as a sudden experience – one is either en-
lightened or not, and cannot be partially enlightened.
Nevertheless, arduous training is necessary to prepare
one’s self for that moment of enlightenment.
In addition to seated meditation, Rinzai is particularly
well known for its use of riddles known as kōan 公案.
These riddles are often paradoxical, or at least appear
that way on the surface. You have probably heard some
of the more hackneyed kōan (e.g., “What is the sound of
one hand clapping?” “If a tree falls in the forest with no-
body around to hear it, does it make a sound?” etc.) 
Kōan serve as devices (skillful means) to help or force
practitioners to abandon ordinary ways of logical
thought, which is a major hindrance to enlightenment.
They also serve more basically to measure the progress
of practitioners. The word kōan literally means some-
thing like “public case,” and indeed there are standard
collections, some even including exemplary answers.
Ideal answers, however, might vary with circumstances.
Because of its rigor, strict Zen practice never gained
widespread appeal in Japan. However, Zen austerity did
become trendy as an aesthetic ideal among medieval Ja-
panese elites. Zen also influenced the broader culture in
at least three ways. First, it suggested a set of related
aesthetic principles such as simplicity, rusticity, and
suggestiveness – qualities that in modern times took on
ideological significance in discussions of Japanese cul-
ture. Second, owing to its deep roots in China, Zen be-
came a conduit for Chinese culture to come into me-
dieval Japan. This Chinese culture had relatively little
impact on the masses of ordinary people, but it had a
significant impact on elites.

Women and Buddhism; Women in Buddhism

All indications are that early Buddhism reflected a basic
male fear of female sexuality. In today’s pop-psychology
influenced vernacular we might say that Shakyamuni
and his disciples had “issues” about women. A major
reason that monks sequestered themselves from the
broader world was to escape the influence of women. As
many discovered, however, the physical location of their
bodies could not eliminate lusts, desires, unresolved is-
sues, et cetera that might continue to linger within
them. In any case, the general message from most forms
of Buddhism, from its early days onward, was that com-
pared with men, women were much more strongly af-
flicted with passions and desires. For women, the karmic
bonds to the phenomenal world were stronger than for
men, and women were incapable of enlightenment until
reborn into the body of a man. One specific doctrine,
well known in Japan, was that of goshō 五障, the Five
Obstructions or Five Hindrances. (An alternative term
with the same meaning is gogai 五碍). It states that
woman cannot be reborn into the five highest categories
of beings, including as a Buddha. In other words, a per-
son cannot attain enlightenment in a female body.
Of course, to modern sensibilities, this doctrine can be
a source of unease or embarrassment to Buddhists, and
many varieties of Buddhism have rejected it or ignore it.
Indeed, some apologists for Buddhism even go so far as
to claim that there is no scriptural basis for the doctrine
of the Five Obstructions, a claim that is simply incorrect.
The doctrine is found in several sutras or sutra collec-
tions, such as the Middle-Length Agama Sutras (中阿含
経), 28th fascicle and the Increasing-by-One Agama Su-
tras (増一阿含経), 38th fascicle. And the doctrine is
found in perhaps the most influential of all sutras (at
least in Japan), the Lotus Sutra (Chapter 12). The rele-
vant part of the Lotus Sutra is particularly important for
setting the stage for medieval Japanese debates about
gender and enlightenment, so let us take a closer look.
The context is the Buddhist disciple Manjusri extolling
the power of the Lotus Sutra and its message to guide all
sentient beings to speedy enlightenment. To emphasize
and illustrate his point, Manjusri explained that even the
daughter of the dragon king has attained quick enlight-
enment. Indeed “Her merits are perfect. . . . Her will and
thought are harmonious and refined, and she is able to
attain to bodhi [enlightened wisdom].” The bodhisattva
Wisdom Accumulation objects to Manjusri’s claim, say-
ing that Shakyamuni himself went through many life-
times and hardships before becoming enlightened. “I do
not believe that this girl in the space of a moment direct-
ly and immediately achieved right, enlightened intu-
ition.” No sooner had Wisdom Accumulation voiced this
objection then the dragon king’s daughter appeared be-
fore the assembled crowd to testify to her enlighten-
ment. But another prominent disciple of the Buddha, 
Sariputra, was incredulous. Speaking to her, he stated
the Five Obstructions/Obstacles doctrine as follows:
 A woman’s body is filthy, it is not a Dharma-receptacle.
How can you attain unexcelled bodhi? The Path of the
Buddha is remote and cavernous. Throughout incalcula-
ble kalpas [of time], by tormenting oneself and accumu-
lating good conduct, also by thoroughly cultivating the
perfections, only by these means can one then be suc-
cessful. Also, a woman’s body even then has the five ob-
stacles. It cannot become first a Brahma god king, sec-
ond the god Sakra, third King Mara, fourth a sage-king
turning the Wheel, fifth a Buddha-body. How can the
body of a woman speedily achieve Buddhahood? (Leon
Hurvitz, trans., Scripture of the Lotus Blossom of the
Fine Dharma (The Lotus Sutra) [New York: Columbia
University Press, 1976], p. 201. Quoted passages in
the previous paragraph are on pp. 199 and 200.)
In addition to stating the basics of the doctrine, notice
that this passage also lists the five specific types of en-
lightened or deity-like beings into which women cannot
be reborn. So, how did the the dragon king’s daughter
respond to Sariputra’s assertion of her inherent inferior-
ity? According to the sutra:
At that time, the assembled multitude all saw the drag-
on girl in the space of an instant turn into a man, perfect
bodhisattva-conduct, straightaway go southward to the
world-sphere Spotless, sit on a jeweled lotus blossom,
and achieve undifferentiating, right, enlightened intu-
ition, with thirty-two marks and eighty beautiful fea-
tures setting forth the Fine Dharma for all living beings
in all ten directions. At that time . . . bodhisattvas, voice-
hearers, gods, dragons, the eightfold assembly, humans
and nonhumans, all from a distance seeing that dragon
girl achieve Buddhahood and universally preach Dharma
to the men and gods of the assembly of that time, were
overjoyed at heart and all did obeisance from afar. . . .
The bodhisattva Wisdom Accumulation, as well as
Sariputra and all the assembled multitude, silently be-
lieved and accepted. (Hurvitz, Lotus Blossom, p. 201.)
Notice two key points. First, this whole episode is part
of a larger rhetorical project, namely to convince the
reader that the Lotus Sutra contains the knowledge or
power to enable true believers and diligent practitioners
the ability to become enlightened without going through
many lifetimes of effort. This point is the main sales
pitch of many forms of Japanese Buddhism. The story of
the dragon girl (image) is a rhetorical device to enhance
this message. Also note one detail: she had to turn into a
man before manifesting enlightenment. Modern readers
would tend to regard this detail as terribly important, in
part for ideological reasons. I suspect that many pre-
modern readers would have regarded it as a minor, 
purely logistical matter. Because of the prominence of
the Lotus Sutra in Japan, medieval Japanese Buddhists
often took the story of the dragon girl seriously. More-
over, by the late Heian period, Buddhism had become in-
creasingly popular among women, and this trend con-
tinued during the Kamakura and Muromachi periods. So
let us now turn our attention to medieval Japan.
Although woman might be permitted in the peripheral
areas of major Buddhist centers like Mt. Hiei (Tendai) or
Mt. Kōya (Shingon), they were not permitted to visit the
mountain itself. Furthermore, most Buddhist scriptures
explicitly held that women were vastly inferior to men
in terms of their spiritual state and potential for enlight-
enment. The early, mainstream forms of Japanese Bud-
dhism held to these tenets. Barbara Ruch explains that
“Buddhism, like Christianity, has had a dismal history of
discrimination against women. Theologically women
were viewed as inherently flawed, as both defiled and
defiling; they were forbidden to enter even the grounds
of the major Buddhist centers of learning and worship,
such as Mount Hiei and Mount Kōya, and they were also
barred by doctrine from attaining Buddhahood.” (“The
Other Side of Culture in Medieval Japan,” in Kozo
Yamamura, ed., The Cambridge History of Japan:
Volume 3 Medieval Japan [New York: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 1990], p. 505.) The situation, however,
was not entirely one-sided in medieval Japan.
 Some tales in the Nihon-ryōiki portray women as bene-
fiting from the compassionate grace of Kannon or other
entities. Such tales strongly suggest – but to not explicit-
ly say – that women might attain enlightenment. Signifi-
cantly, newer forms of Buddhism such as Pure Land, Zen,
and Nichiren (which we have not studied), in their own
ways, affirmed the possibility of salvation and enlight-
enment for everyone, including women, even in the age
of mappō. These newer forms of Buddhism (“new” at
least in terms of their relative prominence in Japan) not
only brought Buddhism to Japan’s ordinary people, they
also questioned, sometimes even challenged, the deep-
rooted tradition of male superiority. This break with
tradition was not necessarily radical. Hōnen, for exam-
ple, had much to say about the possibility of women’s
enlightenment. He pointed out, for example, that Amida
made a special vow to save women (in addition to his
general vow for all people) because “the obstacles to sal-
vation for women are formidable, and if there were no
vows specifically for them, they would immediately be-
gin to doubt the possibility of their salvation.” (Quoted
in Kazuo Kasahara, ed., A History of Japanese Reli-
gion, Paul McCarthy and Gaynor Sekimori, trans.
[Tokyo: Kosei Publishing Co., 2001], p. 292.)  Hōnen
held to the traditional view that women were spiritually
inferior to men, but he thought that they could be re-
born in Amida’s Pure Land nevertheless.
The mechanism for this rebirth in the Pure Land also
reveals Hōnen’s ties to Japanese Buddhist tradition.
Reminiscent of the tale of the dragon king’s daughter,
women could not enter the Pure Land as women:
If they rely on the power of Amida’s great vow and rev-
erently recite his name, then when this life is over they
will at once be able to exchange the form of woman for
that of man. Then Amida himself will lead the woman
who has been transformed into a man; the host of bod-
hisattvas will surround her; and she will be reborn in the
Pure Land. On the other hand, if a woman does not rely
on the great vow, even after countless ages she will not
be able to achieve transformation into a man. Truly,
Amida in his compassion works to relieve women of
their sufferings and to grant them Joy! (Quoted in
Kasahara, ed., A History of Japanese Religion,  p.
293.)
So in Hōnen’s view, women could not enter the Pure
Land in their own bodies but had to be transformed into
men first. Indeed, only by the special intervention of
Amida could women be saved by means of this transfor-
mation. The ultimate result, of course, was the same as
for men: rebirth in the Pure Land. Though Hōnen’s theo-
ry of the mechanism likely offends contemporary sensi-
bilities, the idea that women could attain such a lofty re-
birth was radical for its day. Hōnen’s famous disciple
Shinran held the same views on this matter. He wrote
the following short hymns, for example: “Profound is
Amida’s mercy! / He shows his wondrous wisdom / By making
men of women / And leading them to buddhahood” and
“Though a billion eons pass / The five obstacles yet remain /
And woman’s form is never changed – / Without the vow of
Amida.” (Quoted in Kasahara, ed., A History of Ja-
panese Religion,  p. 294.)  More radical voices than
those of Hōnen and Shinran soon emerged.
The Zen master Dōgen 道元 (1200-1253) regarded
women as equal to men without qualification: “When we
speak of the wicked there are certainly men among
them. When we speak of noble persons, these surely in-
clude women. Learning the Law of Buddha and achieving
release from illusion have nothing to do with whether
one happens to be a man or a woman.” (Quoted in Ruch,
“The Other Side of Culture in Medieval Japan,” p.
506.)   Dōgen vigorously criticized the Buddhist estab-
lishment for excluding women and thus denying them
the potential benefits of enlightenment. Here is a typical
passage on this subject from his writings:
 There is something ridiculous in Japan. I mean those
places that, while calling themselves “sacred precincts”
of “schools of Mahayana practice,” refuse entry to fe-
male priests and lay women. This mistaken custom has
continued for so long that people cannot see what is
wrong with it. Even people who are learned and versed
in various matters do not attempt to correct it. Even
highly knowledgeable people do not regard the matter
as worthy of attention. They say that it is the will of the
deities and Buddhas, or that it is a time-honored custom
and not to be disputed. If one allowed oneself to laugh at
this attitude, one would split one’s sides. If one does not
permit oneself to correct outmoded ways of thinking and
acting, how can one possibly escape the endless cycle of
birth and death? (Quoted in Kasahara, ed., A History
of Japanese Religion,  p. 295.)
Not only did Dōgen affirm that women were no less eli-
gible than men for enlightenment, he repeatedly criti-
cized the established sects of Buddhism for their “sins”
of excluding women. Early Zen was perhaps the most
egalitarian of all forms of Buddhism with respect to the
role of women. We know of one woman who became a
recognized Zen master. Mugai Nyodai 無外如大
(1223-1298), whose life spanned precisely the period dur-
ing which Zen became influential in Japan,  headed the
Keiai Temple and its sub temples in the Kyoto area. Ruch
points out that at the time Mugai was active, major
changes in Japanese Buddhism were underway. “All of
the newly founded and growing sects of reform Bud-
dhism (Pure Land, Nichiren, and Zen) were asserting
that the old sects had erred and that Buddha’s compas-
sion extended to the salvation of all sentient
creatures.” (“The Other Side of Culture in Medieval
Japan,” p. 505.) Despite its early acceptance of women,
as Zen matured, it quickly adopted many of the forms
and habits of the other, established forms of Japanese
Buddhism, including male-centeredness.
This point, however, is not to say that women did not
participate in Buddhism, either before or after the ad-
vent of Zen in Japan. Indeed, a major characteristic of
medieval Japanese society was the relative ease with
which both men and women took the tonsure (shaved
their heads and became monks or nuns in training).
Sometimes, the motive was purely religions, but often it
was not. Taking the tonsure was a socially acceptable
way of liberating one’s self from many of society’s de-
mands and expectations, and it did not necessarily mean
shutting one’s self up in a temple. Many who took the
tonsure traveled, took up music, poetry, or pursued oth-
er activities that were associated with a lifestyle de-
tached from mainstream society.
 The priest Nichiren 日蓮 (1222-1282) received his ini-
tial training in Tendai, but ended up creating his own
sect of Buddhism centered exclusively on the Lotus Su-
tra. Nichiren regarded this text as the ultimate expres-
sion of Buddhist teachings, thus superseding all other
scriptures. Unlike the vast majority of sutras, the Lotus
Sutra affirmed that women could become enlightened
along with men. Nichiren pointed out this feature of the
Lotus Sutra in his essays and personal correspondence.
For example, in the context of discussing the story of the
dragon king’s daughter attaining Buddhahood in ages
past, Nichiren commented:
When she attained Buddhahood, this does not mean
simply that one person did so. It reveals the fact that all
women will attain Buddhahood. In the various [Therava-
da] sutras that were preached before the Lotus Sutra, it
is denied that women can ever attain Buddhahood. In
the Mahayana sutras other than the Lotus Sutra, it
would appear that women can attain Buddhahood or be
reborn in the Pure Land. But they may do so only after
they have changed into some other form. . . . This it is at-
tainment of Buddhahood or rebirth in the Pure Land in
name but not in reality. The Dragon King’s daughter is,
as the phrase has it, one example that stands for the rest.
When the Dragon King’s daughter attained Buddhahood,
it opened up the possibility of attaining Buddhahood for
all women of later ages. (Philip B. Yampolsky, ed., The
Selected Writings of Nichiren [New York: Columbia
University Press, 1990], p. 121.)
In short, the Dragon King’s daughter was not an excep-
tional case according to Nichiren’s reading of the sutra.
Moreover, Nichiren seems to have thought that women
need not be transformed into men to attain enlighten-
ment or a lofty rebirth. He seems to have regarded the
detail of the dragon girl’s transformation into a man as
insignificant. Another point that Nichiren stressed else-
where was that in the age of mappō, women are actually
given preferential treatment in salvation. Although this
is a degenerate age for everyone, if any women possesses
genuine faith in the Lotus Sutra, she is guaranteed to be
saved and reborn as an enlightened being regardless of
her personal qualities. Although Nichiren preached an
uncompromising form of Lotus Sutra worship, his teach-
ings contained the potential to assuage the fears of both
men and women regarding the evils of their day.
Nichiren Buddhism often suffered from government per-
secution, and it was never as popular as Pure Land or as
intellectually influential as Zen.
The Kamakura period was a time when some prom-
inent Buddhists questioned or criticized prevailing no-
tions women’s salvation and women’s roles in Buddhism.
By doing so, they encouraged greater participation in
Buddhism by women who, in any case, had long been
participating in it. Overall, however, these critics and the
women who excelled in Buddhist practices did not
change the fundamentally male-dominated nature of in-
stitutional Buddhism. it was beneath this male-dominat-
ed official surface that women contributed to and partic-
ipated in many forms of Japanese Buddhism. For a de-
tailed account of women in Japanese Buddhism, see Bar-
bara Ruch, ed., Engendering Faith: Women and Bud-
dhism in Premodern Japan, Michigan Monograph Series
in Japanese Studies, No. 43 (Ann Arbor: Center for Ja-
panese Studies University of Michigan, 2002).

Notes:
1. “Saichō no mappō kan,” Nihon shisō-shi, no. 40 (1993): 45-55.
2. William R. LaFleur, The Karma of Words: Buddhism and the Lit-
erary Arts in Medieval Japan (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1983), p. 3.