Sixth Century BCE to Seventeenth Century
Page 34
zhongshu as Xie Fei
(441–506), son of Xie Zhuang
, may be in error. To raise
indi v idua l is m a nd t h e ne o - daois t m ov e m e n t 165
an obvious objection, Xie Fei started his bureaucratic career in 483 and was appointed
to the position of zhongshu ling as late as 489 or 490, by which time Wang Sengqian had
already been dead for four or fi ve years. Wang could not have possibly referred to Xie Fei
by his offi
cial title. See Liangshu, 8 vols., punctuated edition (Beijing: Zhonghua, 1974),
1:261–264.
103. Alan Sheridan, Michel Foucault: The Will to Truth (London: Tavistock, 1980), 127.
8. Intellectual Breakthroughs in the
Tang- Song Transition
Viewed from inside and understood in its own terms, the long intellectual
tradition of China can be discerned to have three major breakthroughs.
The earliest breakthrough took place in classical antiquity around the time of
Confucius (551–479 b.c.e.), when vari ous philosophical visions such as the Con-
fucian, the Mohist, and the Daoist began to emerge out of the primeval cultural
tradition that the author of the last chapter of the Zhuangzi identifi es as “the
original unity of Heaven and Earth” or, simply, the original Dao
. The same
author is also the fi rst historian of Chinese thought to introduce the idea of
“intellectual breakthrough.” With the emergence of the vari ous philosophical
schools, he says, “The system of the Dao was being broken into fragments and
scattered throughout the world.”1
The second major breakthrough occurred during the Wei- Jin Period, in the
third and fourth centuries (220–316 c.e.), when Confucianism as the dominant
intellectual mode throughout the Han dynasty (202 b.c.e.– 220 c.e.) gave way
to the Neo- Daoist discourse, which was soon to converge with Buddhism to
form the main fl ow of thought in China for many centuries to come. The tran-
sition from Confucianism to Neo- Daoism and Buddhism is a most severe rup-
ture in Chinese intellectual history because the ontological mode of thinking
of the former and the radical otherworldliness of the latter were established,
not in the places previously occupied by the classical exegesis and cosmology of
Han Confucianism, but in an area where such ways of looking at the world did
in t e l le c t ua l b r e a k t h rou gh s in t h e ta ng - song t r a nsi t ion 167
not exist. As a result, the Han Confucian tradition was not only revised but
transcended, and a new tradition began to take shape.
The third and last major intellectual breakthrough in traditional China is, by
general consent, the rise and development of Neo- Confucianism. The pres ent
chapter addresses some of the central issues involved in this last breakthrough.
Before my discussion begins, I wish to make clear that the emphasis in this
study will be more on the interplay of intellectual breakthrough with sociocul-
tural change than on the inner logic of the breakthrough itself. It is not my in-
tention to pres ent a synoptic view of Neo- Confucianism as a fi nished product
of the breakthrough. From the point of view of a historian, it is rather the his-
torical pro cess leading to the Neo- Confucian breakthrough that particularly
deserves examination.
It is common knowledge that the rise of Neo- Confucianism was involved
with Buddhism in a dialectical, twofold relationship. On the one hand, it was
a total root- and- branch rejection of the radical otherworldliness of Buddhism
together with its antisocial values. On the other hand, in its philosophical refor-
mulation, Neo- Confucianism borrowed conceptual categories from Buddhism.
This common- knowledge view is correct in its general outline, and there is in-
deed much evidence to support it. Nevertheless, it seems to be a result of a nar-
row historical perspective. To see the rise of Neo- Confucianism in this way, it
seems to me, one must assume that Buddhism had retained its original other-
worldly character without change through the centuries since it fi rst arrived in
China. This is clearly contrary to all the known historical facts, however. Another
under lying assumption is that the revival of Confucianism during the late Tang
and early Song as a conscious response to social changes was self- generated.
Considering, however, that during this period it was Buddhism and, to a lesser
extent, Daoism that captured the Chinese mind and soul, one cannot help ask-
ing: Given the ste reo typed and lifeless state of Confucian classical scholarship in
the time of Han Yu
(768–824) and Li Ao
(772–841), what source of
inspiration could these two men have possibly drawn from the Confucian tradi-
tion to initiate an intellectual breakthrough of this magnitude?
The truth of the matter is that if we broaden our perspective and try to dis-
cern the general trends in the development of Chinese spirituality from the late
Tang to the early Song, we would fi nd that this last major breakthrough far
transcended the bound aries of the intellectual movement generally identifi ed
as the rise of Neo- Confucianism, even though the latter’s central importance
from the eleventh century on is beyond dispute. Viewed as a whole, the break-
through may be broadly defi ned as a spiritual movement taking a decidedly
“this- worldly turn” ( rushi zhuanxiang
). The “prime mover” of the
breakthrough, so to speak, was not Confucianism but the new Chan Buddhist
School founded by Huineng
(or )
(638–713). It was this new Chan sect
that started the whole pro cess of the “this- worldly turn,” which then set fi rst
Confucianism and later religious Daoism in motion.
168 in t e l le c t ua l b r e a k t h rou gh s in t h e ta ng - song t r a nsi t ion The social origin of the new Chan School is beyond the scope of the pres ent
inquiry. Suffi
ce it to say that the new Chan diff ered from the traditional one in
that while the latter, as represented by Shenxiu
(600–706), enjoyed the
patronage of the aristocracy, the former generally appealed more to people of
the lower social strata. According to tradition, Huineng, the founder, was at
best semiliterate. Moreover, after he had supposedly received the patriarchal
robe from the Fifth Patriarch, he spent no less than sixteen years among the
common people, including peasants and merchants. As is well known, his
teaching consists primarily of a theory about complete and sudden enlighten-
ment, which can be attained by directly pointing to one’s original mind and
seeing one’s true nature without the use of written texts. It also shows a strong
iconoclastic tendency with regard to such matters as Buddhas, bodhisattvas,
and rituals. Needless to say, this kind of “ simple and easy” teaching was better
suited to the spiritual needs of the masses than the elite of the time. The famous
writer Liang Su
(753–793) once remarked about the teaching of the new
Chan in the following words: “When they preach these doctrines to the average
man, or men below the average, they are believed by all those who live their
lives
of worldly desires.”2 Little won der that it was the new Chan that had developed
out of “the lives of worldly desires” of the ordinary people that took the fi rst step
in the “this- worldly turn.”
The “this- worldly turn” of the new Chan School is nowhere more clearly re-
vealed than in Liuzu tanjing
(The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patri-
arch) . Section 36 of the Dunhuang text reads, in part, as follows: “The Master
said: ‘Good friends, if you wish to practice, it is all right to do so as laymen; you
don’t have to be in a temple. If you are in a temple but do not practice, you are
like the evil- minded people of the West. If you are a layman but do practice, you
are practicing the good of the people of the East. Only I beg of you, practice
purity yourselves; this then is the Western Land.’ ”3 The long verse in the same
section also has the following lines:
From the outset the Dharma has been in the world;
Being in the world, it transcends the world.
Hence do not seek the transcendental world outside,
By discarding the pres ent world itself.4
To us today these words are commonplace, but to the ears of Huineng’s au-
dience, they must have sounded like a “lion’s roar” or a “tidal wave.” Huineng’s
message is quite clear: lay believers need not abandon this world and seek sal-
vation in the temples, for the Dharma has always been in this world. On the
contrary, only after one has practiced one’s faith in the daily life of the world
can this world be transcended. As the common Chan saying expresses it so
well, “in carry ing water and chopping fi rewood: therein lies the wondrous
Dao.”5
in t e l le c t ua l b r e a k t h rou gh s in t h e ta ng - song t r a nsi t ion 169
After the An Lu- shan Rebellion, imperial and aristocratic patronage of Bud-
dhism declined markedly. Eco nom ically, the Buddhist monks in the monaster-
ies had to rely more and more on their own hard work for support. As a result, a
new worldly work ethic began to emerge in the Buddhist communities. Again it
was the new Chan School that took the lead in this further development of the
“this- worldly turn.” As we know, according to original Buddhist texts of disci-
pline ( vinaya), the clergy were not allowed to engage in agricultural work for
fear of killing living beings (e.g., insects, plants, and trees). Begging and col-
lecting donations were the normal way of their economic life. However, in the
late eighth or early ninth century, the Chan Master Baizhang Huaihai
(720–814) of the Baizhang Mountains in modern Jiangxi introduced a new
princi ple in his revised text of monastic rules known as the Baizhang qinggui
(Pure Rules of Baizhang), which required all the monks in the mon-
astery, irrespective of age and rank, to work equally to earn their own living. He
also in ven ted the famous motto, “a day without work, a day without meals,” 6
which not only was generally followed by Buddhist monks but even became
proverbial in the lay society. This motto certainly reminds us of the saying of
St. Paul, “If a man will not work, neither shall he eat,” as emphatically quoted
with approval by John Calvin.
It is impor tant to note the psychological tension created by this new monas-
tic rule. One of Huaihai’s disciples asked him: “Is it sinful to cut grasses, chop
trees, dig the fi eld, and turn over the soil?” The Master answered: “I cannot say
that it is defi nitely sinful. Whether it is sinful or not depends on how the person
does it. If he does it with a worldly sense of gain and loss, then surely he has
committed a sin. However, if he does it with a transcendent state of mind, then
he has committed no sin at all.”7 The tension shown in the above dialogue is
suffi
cient proof that the new rule laid down by Huaihai was a sharp break with
tradition, and thus a “breakthrough,” for the pro cess of breakthrough must of
necessity be pregnant with tension until the breaking point is reached. To il-
lustrate the pre- breakthrough Buddhist practice in this area, allow me to cite
the following example: A monk in Shansi named Sengxi
(578–641) was in
charge of the rice cultivation as a “superintendent” of his monastery. However,
when he saw that numerous insects in the fi eld were killed in the pro cess of
work, he found the cruelty too much to bear. As a result, he gave up his “super-
intendent” post.8 This example gives us a clear notion of the seriousness with
which the Buddhists viewed the sin of killing of lives in agricultural work.
Even though Sengxi was not personally engaged in the work, mere supervi-
sion already created more guilty feelings than his conscience could possibly
take. The profound meaning of the above- quoted conversation between Huai-
hai and his disciple must be grasped in light of this long- established practice in
Buddhism.
After the breakthrough, however, the case was altered. Everyday worldly ac-
tivities such as agriculture were no longer viewed in a negative way. On the
170 in t e l le c t ua l b r e a k t h rou gh s in t h e ta ng - song t r a nsi t ion contrary, they were given a religious signifi cance. Consider the following conversation between Lingyou of the Wei Mountains
(771–853) and his
disciple Huiji of the Yang Mountains
(807–883) when the latter came
to pay tribute at the end of a summer: “Lingyou said to Huiji: ‘I have not seen
you here for a whole summer. What sort of things have you been doing down
there?’ Huiji replied: ‘I ploughed a piece of land and sowed a basketful of seeds.’
Lingyou remarked: ‘In that case, your summertime has not been wasted.’ ”9
Since Lingyou was Huaihai’s disciple, we can assume that he not only accepted
the latter’s new teaching but also passed it on to the next generation. In this
conversation, which took place only a few de cades later than Huaihai’s discus-
sion quoted above, the idea that killing living beings in agricultural work is a
sin is totally absent. Instead we fi nd that productive labor is praised as a virtue
and that wasting time in the sense of failing to do one’s share of everyday activi-
ties is among the worst of sins. Max Weber obviously overstates his case when
he says: “ Labour is an approved ascetic technique, as it always has been in the
Western Church, in sharp contrast not only to the Orient but to almost all mo-
nastic rules the world over.”10 As a matter of fact, in its emphasis on the Dharma
always being in this world, on every individual being’s immediate access to
transcendent real ity (without the intermediaries of either the Buddhist sangha
or even the sûtras), and above all, on combining productive activity in this world
with an otherworldly aim, the new Chan School is defi nable in every sense in
terms of “inner- worldly asceticism” in the Weberian typology of religion. Thus,
its emergence clearly marks the end of otherworldly asceticism and the begin-
ning of the “this- worldly turn” at the same time.
From the ninth century on, Chan masters always stressed the point that the
Way or Truth is nowhere to be found apart fro
m the ordinary daily life. When a
newcomer went to seek instruction from Master Congshen of Zhaozhou
(778–897), the Master asked him, “Did you have your pottage for break-
fast?” “Yes, I did,” he answered. “Then go clean your pot,” said the Master.11
Master Yixuan of Linji
(d. 867) said it all when he lectured to his audi-
ence with the following words: “My fellow monks, the Buddhist Dharma is not
something that you can fi nd a specifi c way to search for. It consists of nothing
but the ordinary life: To move the bowels and pass water, to put on clothes and
eat, and when you are tired, to go take a rest. Stupid people would surely laugh
at me, but the wise would understand what I mean.”12 What Yixuan is really
saying is that the monastic life should not be diff er ent from the lay life. Some-
one asked Master Wenyan of Yunmen
(864–949) what a Buddhist
monk ought to do when he behaves like an ordinary human being. The Master
said: “In the morning, he brings the plough to the fi eld and in the eve ning he
pulls it back.”13 Here we see how the new Chan School gradually transformed
otherworldly asceticism into inner- worldly asceticism. Sebastian Franck once
said, “You think you have escaped from the monastery, but every one must now
be a monk throughout his life.” According to Weber, this statement sums up
in t e l le c t ua l b r e a k t h rou gh s in t h e ta ng - song t r a nsi t ion 171
“the spirit of the Reformation.”14 In the Chinese case, I imagine, a Chan Master
prob ably would say to the monks: “You think you have escaped from the world,
but every monk in the monastery must now be a man of the world throughout
his life.” The emphasis may be diff er ent, but the result is similar. Unlike the
ascetic dogmas of Protestantism, however, Chan Buddhism did not create an
adequate ethics for the full development of Chinese inner- worldly asceticism. It
was in the Neo- Confucian breakthrough that such an ethical foundation was
eventually established.
Han Yu has long been held as the fi rst precursor of Neo- Confucianism. This
historical view is established on so solid a foundation that to defend its validity
is superfl uous and to question it is unwise. We must, however, ask some new