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4. Buddhism in New Light Chapter
2: Violence Is Weakness, Prayer Is Power |
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Shin Yatomi
SGI-USA Study department leader
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1)
Authoritarianism results from the deep-seated human
weakness to give up oneself to external authority.
2) Violence is a deliberate wish for the destruction
of life; it is a symptom of the weak, passive self
that seeks to validate its existence by dominating
and destroying other lives or things of value to
others.
3) One of the most concrete and powerful ways to
oppose violence and authoritarianism is prayer that
sincerely affirms the power of life—both within
our lives and in the lives of others. |
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It is hard to tell what thoughts were running
through the minds of the terrorists as they plunged airplanes
into the World Trade Center towers, the Pentagon and a
field in western Pennsylvania on September 11, 2001. Judging
from their irrational acts, however, it seems that they
surrendered their power of reason and human decency to
a higher power of their imagination—whether it was
their political ideal or God. Such perversion of philosophy
and religion occurs when people subordinate the dignity
of life to ideology and dogma. Philosophy and religion
must serve people and preserve life. As Nichiren Daishonin
admonishes, “Life is the foremost of all treasures”
(wnd, 1125).
What we saw on that day was the destructiveness of the
human tendency to give oneself up to external authority.
This deep-seated human weakness is called authoritarianism,
which many people, if not all, share to some degree. As
the September 11 tragedy illustrates, violence is often
an outcome of an authoritarian orientation—a willingness
to give up our freedom and independence to external authority
in exchange for the false, temporary sense of security
that may be felt upon our release from the burden of responsibility
to seek self-knowledge and shape our own destiny.
The Nature of Violence
Violence is a deliberate wish, expressed or unexpressed
in word or deed, for the destruction of life; it is a
symptom of the weak, passive self that seeks to validate
its existence through dominating and destroying other
lives or things valued by others. Violent people are weak,
for they cannot find the inner strength to overcome their
insecurity or aloneness and, therefore, must destroy others
so that they may feel empowered. Their power, however,
is an illusion since it is over others, not from within.
Power derived by subjugating others is merely a fancy
because it requires others and is dependent on them. On
the other hand, power created from within is genuine because
it is independent and free. In other words, power is not
real so long as it comes from human weakness or depends
on the external.
Despite their aggressive appearance, violent people are
passive at the core of their existence because violence
is essentially an easy escape from an overwhelming sense
of inner powerlessness and isolation, from the responsibility
and effort required to make personal change. It is easier
to hurt someone else than get real about oneself. A person
who resorts to violence as an escape from his or her inner
challenge is not the originator of self-willed action
and is passive in his or her mental reality. The sense
of power felt by violent people, therefore, is actually
a sign of their weakness and passivity.
Moreover, the sense of power derived from destructive
acts is short-lived and addictive; it can only be sustained
through further destruction. Compelled by their inner
powerlessness, violent people continue to destroy, and
when they find nothing more to destroy or find themselves
prevented from further acts of destruction, they destroy
themselves to escape from themselves, which are the source
of their powerlessness. In this sense, violence is not
a reaction to external objects per se but rather a destructive
drive arising from inner weakness simply waiting for a
convenient outlet.
The Meaning of Self-defense
To better understand the relationship of violence and
authoritarianism, it is worthwhile to take a closer look
at the ideas of self-defense and sacrifice. Pure self-defense
is not violence because it is based solely on the affirmation
of life rather than its negation. It has been reported
that one of the hijacked airplanes crashed short of its
intended target in an unpopulated area of western Pennsylvania,
probably because some passengers struggled with the terrorists
for control of the airplane. Their action was courageous
and noble; it was not violence but self-defense since
they were motivated by their desire to protect and preserve
life. Quite often, however, so-called self-defense is
disguised aggression in which one’s real motive
for the destruction of life is suppressed consciously
or unconsciously by self-deceptive rationalization.
The difference between violence and self-defense lies
not merely in the external circumstances, but more significantly
in one’s true motive. In this regard, Shakyamuni’s
injunction to “kill the will to kill” reveals
profound Buddhist insight into the nature of violence
(see My Dear Friends in America, p. 129). Behind the passionate
emotions or seemingly sound rhetoric of self-defense is
often hidden the “will to kill.”
Violence arises from a will to harm, and self-defense
from a will to protect, although both employ physical
force as a means. It is necessary to look inward to see
one’s true motive—whether it is to preserve
life or to harm life. We become capable of self-defense
with the ability of self-reflection, to which one of the
greatest obstacles is an authoritarian orientation that
looks outside for the motive in order to escape responsibility.
Authoritarian people are incapable of self-defense, because
they have neither a sense of responsibility nor a willingness
to self-reflect.
The Two Types of Sacrifice
Sacrifice is often praised as one of the highest virtues,
but we witnessed in the September 11 tragedy that there
are two kinds of sacrifice. One is motivated by self-denial.
Some people make such a sacrifice because in doing so
they can lose themselves to an external power and thus
become part of what is not them. They are motivated by
a desire to escape from themselves whom they neither love
nor trust.
Through making such a sacrifice, however, they lose the
freedom and integrity to think and act as individuals.
This kind of sacrifice is authoritarian in essence, and
it is a sign of one’s weakness and inability to
freely express oneself.
Another type of sacrifice is the complete opposite of
self-denial; it is self-expression. Some people courageously
choose—instead of being forced by external authority—to
sacrifice their physical safety or even their lives as
the utmost expression of their spiritual integrity. Their
sacrifice is an assertion of individual freedom and will.
The line between those two types of sacrifice was drawn
clearly in the September 11 terrorist attacks. While the
terrorists were giving up their power of critical thinking
and, with it,
their humanity to external authority, passengers on the
hijacked airplanes and those trapped in the collapsing
buildings valiantly faced their final moments in efforts
to save others and in their prayers for their loved ones.
The terrorists’ acts may seem “active,”
but in their innermost reality they are passive and feeble,
while the quiet thoughts and prayers of many who died
in the attacks — despite the superficial appearance
of helplessness and passivity in the eyes of the terrorists
— were the greatest expressions of their will and
love. In their final thoughts and prayers, they were strong
and free.
Understanding Authoritarianism
As we came face to face with the destructiveness of authoritarianism,
what happened on September 11 may serve as an opportunity
for us to gain deeper insight into the nature of violence
and learn the meaning of freedom from those who made a
true sacrifice. As violence stems from the authoritarian
character of submission and domination, which is in turn
a manifestation of the enfeebled self, any attempt to
suppress violence with further violence may only be described
as foolishness.
How many times must humanity repeat the same mistake of
trying to cure violence with more violence? In this regard,
Nichiren Daishonin warns us, “If you try to treat
someone’s illness without knowing its cause, you
will only make the person sicker than before” (wnd,
774). This is the time that we must cure this greatest
ailment of human civilization at its root. We must seriously
think about ways to empower people, not only economically
and politically but also spiritually, so that we may limit
human destructiveness. Each of us must deeply reflect
upon our own authoritarian tendency to give up so easily
our freedom and power of reason to external authority.
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Revenge is an act of violence
because its chief motive is to harm rather than
preserve life, and it is often used merely as an
outlet for irrational emotions. What can each of
us do to prevent America and the rest of the world
from falling deeper into the cycle of violence and
revenge? |
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Authoritarianism is the abandonment
of freedom and integrity to an external authority.
Humanism encourages individual freedom and integrity
from within. What can each of us do to make our
practice of Nichiren Buddhism truly humanistic and
prevent future practitioners from falling into authoritarianism? |
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In one sense, the Soka Spirit movement lies in our efforts
to understand the nature of authoritarianism; it is a
process in which we develop our ability to both self-reflect
and think critically about what is happening in our environment.
As we have learned from the Nichiren Shoshu priesthood,
even the humanistic teachings of Buddhism can become authoritarian
depending upon its practitioners’ understanding
and action.
This important lesson becomes genuine only when we realize
that the absence of a priesthood does not necessarily
mean the end of authoritarianism, and that each of us
is responsible to understand and practice Buddhism as
the humanistic teaching Nichiren intended it to be.
Likewise, although the vast majority of religions in the
world are founded upon the principles of love and peace,
through the many atrocities and tragedies in history,
we have repeatedly been made aware how easily irrational
zealots can pervert any religion into authoritarian dogma
that enslaves people. More than ever, it is crucial for
us to reaffirm our commitment to the humanistic tenets
of our beliefs and shun the forces of authoritarianism
from within and without.
The Power of Prayer
One of the most concrete and powerful ways to oppose violence
and authoritarianism is prayer that sincerely affirms
the power of life—both within oneself and in the
lives of others. The ideas of nonviolence and humanism
can change the way people live when those ideas are both
understood intellectually and also felt deeply in their
hearts’ core. As Gandhi eloquently said: “Let
there be no cant about nonviolence. It is not like a garment
to be put on and off at will. Its seat is in the heart,
and it must be an inseparable part of our very being”
(Non-Violence in Peace and War, vol. 1, p. 66). Prayer
is our precious tool to discover the dormant dignity of
life. As Nichiren states, “Chanting Nam-myoho-rengekyo
is what is meant by entering the palace of oneself ”(ott,
209).
Prayer is a process in which we transform the abstract
idea of life’s dignity into a concrete reality that
is felt in the depths of our lives and with our personal
conviction, which is displayed in how we treat with respect
both others and ourselves.
Whatever faiths we Americans embrace today, our prayers
must be united in our love for life and peace. If we are
to hate anything, let us hate hatred and violence with
a single heart. From such a united prayer of true strength
and patriotism will emerge a new America free of violence.
As many people have shown through their courage in the
face of the September 11 tragedy, violence is weakness,
and prayer is power.
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(from World Tribune, October
5, 2001)
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