WORDS THAT BURN WHY DID THE buddha say what he did.pdf

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WORDS THAT BURN: WHY DID THE
BUDDHA SAY WHAT HE DID?
Jonardon Ganeri
Before all else, that the soul be turned around as regards the fundamental
direction of its striving ... 1
(Martin Heidegger)
The Buddha’s silences
Vacchagotta, whose questions about the immortality of the soul and the
eternality of the world the Buddha famously refused to answer, 2 would
nevertheless later say that the Buddha ‘has made the Dhamma clear in many ways,
as though he were turning upright what had been overthrown, revealing what
was hidden, showing the way to one who was lost, or holding up a lamp in the
dark’. 3 In the Milinda-pa ˜ h ¯ , the Greek King Menander challenges the Buddhist
monk N ¯ gasena to explain how it could be that the Buddha was willing to remain
silent and yet also assert that he had nothing to hide; that unlike other teachers he
did not keep some things ‘in his fist’:
Revered N ¯ gasena, this too was said by the Lord: ‘In regard to the Tath ¯ gata’s
teachings, ¯ nanda, there is no “teacher’s fist.”’ On the other hand when the Elder
M ¯ lunkyaputta asked the Lord a question he did not answer it. This question,
revered N ¯ gasena, will have two ends on one of which it must rest: either that of
not knowing or that of keeping something secret. For if, revered N ¯ gasena, the
Lord said: ‘In regard to the Tath ¯ gata’s teachings, ¯ nanda, there is no “teacher’s
fist,”’ well then, it was through not knowing that he did not answer the Elder
M ¯ lunkyaputta. But if though he knew he did not answer, well then, in the
Tath ¯ gata’s teachings there was a ‘teacher’s fist.’ This too is a double-pronged
question; ‘it is put to you; it is for you to solve.’ 4
How can silence be anything other than a form of secrecy? Apparently only if the
person questioned does not know the answer. Compare Clitophon’s accusation
against Socrates: ‘[O]ne of two things must be true: either you know nothing
about it [sc. justice], or you don’t wish to share it with me’ (Clitophon 410c6 – 7).
N ¯ gasena responds that there are four sorts of question: questions that require a
definite reply, questions that require an analysis, questions that demand to be met
Contemporary Buddhism, Vol. 7, No. 1, May 2006
ISSN 1463-9947 print/1476-7953 online/06/010007-27
q 2006 Jonardon Ganeri DOI: 10.1080/14639940600877853
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J. GANERI
with a counter-question, and, finally, questions that are to be set aside. The
questions to be set aside are those for which there is no cause or reason to answer,
for ‘there is no utterance or speech of the Buddhas, the Lords, that is without
reason, without cause’. N ¯ gasena’s solution, then, is that some questions do not
deserve an answer and the Buddha would not say something unless there
was a point in doing so; the point, for the Buddha, being always related to the
perlocutionary effects of his remarks on his audience. It is true that the Buddha
does not wish to share his knowledge but the motivation is not a desire to
preserve a secret, but rather the wish not to harm his questioner with the truth. 5
In so choosing to remain silent, however, does the Buddha not conceal the truth
when in his judgement his teachings will not have the transformative effect
intended for them? Clearly, the internal coherence of the Buddha’s stance on
silence requires that it is not zealotry but compassion that motivates him; his
compassion is, as it were, a presupposition for the consistency of his position. Not
every silence is a subterfuge; sometimes the silence is sincere. Lying permits of a
similar distinction: some lies are acts of manipulation, but others legitimately
protect the liar from the interrogations of one who does not have a right to the
truth. The Buddha had no need to worry about the effects of others’ words on him
but he did care about the effects his words had on others. This led him to remain
silent; in the next section, we will ask whether his compassion also led him to lie.
Vasubandhu supplements N ¯ gasena’s response with two further considera-
tions. 6 One is that the Buddha takes into account the intentions and prior beliefs
of the questioner in assessing the effect any answer may have on them. These
intentions and beliefs may be such that the questioner will misunderstand the
answer, although it be true, however it is phrased. Vasubandhu’s second addition
is to note that some questions are to be set aside, not because the Buddha does
not know the answer, but because any answer would commit him to knowledge
that is not to be had. The Buddha refused to answer the question ‘What happens
to a man after he dies?’, and it is the case neither that he knows what happens but
refuses to say, nor that he does not know what happens; rather, any answer would
commit him to knowing there is something that happens, and, for the Buddha, this
is not a fact available to be known. To put it another way, questions are implicit
arguments, and answers can only confirm or deny the validity of the argument
implicit in the question but not challenge the truth of its premises. When the
person answering the question believes that one of its implicit premises is false,
the only option is to remain silent. 7
The face-value of the Buddha’s words about the self, and their true
value
A specific problem I will now seek to address concerns the problem of the
Buddha’s truthfulness: did the Buddha sometimes lie, and if so with what
justification? The philosophical problem of the compassionate lie, and the more
general hermeneutical problem of the Buddha’s truthfulness, are ones that had to
WHY DID THE BUDDHA SAY WHAT HE DID?
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be confronted by the tradition of Buddhist hermeneutics. 8 Although N ¯ g ¯ rjuna
tries, on one occasion, to define the compassionate lie out of existence, the
problem is not so easily dismissible. 9 A compassionate lie might well be morally
justified but that does not turn it into a truth. The implication of the famous
parable of the ‘burning house’ in the Lotus S ¯tra, in which a father cajoles his
children to leave the burning house with the false promise of toys, is that the
compassionate lie is a skilful way to bring about the good. 10 The parable suggests
that the Buddha’s words, although untrue, encourage people to escape the
burning house that is a person’s lustful attachment to the world. 11
This in spite of
some attempt to claim that no untruth is involved:
[The Buddha asks ´ ¯ riputra,] ‘ ´ ¯ riputra, what do you think ... was [the father]
guilty of falsehood or not?’ ´ ¯ riputra said, ‘No, this rich man simply made it
possible for his sons to escape the peril of fire and preserve their lives. He did not
commit a falsehood ... because if they were able to preserve their lives, then
they had already obtained a plaything of sorts. And how much more so when,
through an expedient means, they are rescued from the burning house!’ ... The
Buddha said to ´ ¯ riputra, ‘Very good, very good. It is just as you have said.’
It is not a part of the background episteme to regard telling the truth as an
unconditional duty: there are certain, very exceptional, situations in which is
morally admissible that a particular individual may lie. The problem is not to
do with the Buddha’s virtue, any more than there is any question that the father
acted improperly. Rather, the problem is that, if the Buddha sometimes lies and
sometimes tells the truth, how are we to determine from his words what is his
actual view? If he as often says that there is a self as that there is not, what’s the
truth of the matter?
The protreptic nature of the Buddha’s reported discourse is unmistakable.
I mean by this not merely that the dialogues are hortative, encouraging the
interlocutor to take up and pursue the Buddhist way; I mean, more specifically,
that the teachings are explicitly directed towards a ‘turn’ or transformation or
reorientation in the mind of the listener (cf. pro þ trepein: to turn, direct the
course of). Commenting on the use of ‘protreptic’ in Epictetus, A. A. Long says:
The term protreptic can scarcely be translated by a single English word. It refers
to a type of exhortative or admonitory discourse, either in monologue or in
question-and-answer form, designed to make persons rethink their ethical
beliefs and convert to a fundamental change of outlook and behaviour. 12
Epictetus himself says of protreptic that:
[i]t is the ability to show people, both individuals and groups, the inconsistency
they are caught up in, and that they are focused on everything except what they
want. For they want the sources of happiness, but they are looking for them in
the wrong place. (Discourses 3.23.34 – 5)
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J. GANERI
The proper grasp and reflective acceptance of the truths taught by the
Buddha upturns the mind of the student, leads them out of their ‘perplexity’. As a
genre, the recorded dialogues of the Buddha are closer to the meditation or
soliloquy than to the summa or disputation; their purpose is not primarily the
resolution of a disputed claim or the refutation of a rival account. 13 The Buddha’s
famous silence in the face of adversarial questioning is evidence that debate—
even truth-directed debate—was simply not the order of the game. Silence,
indeed, might hope to be transformative where entering into a debate cannot be,
if it persuades the adversary that they have misunderstood the purpose of the
discourse.
The fact that the Buddha’s dialogues are, in this sense, protreptic explains
why the Buddha is represented as stating, in his conversation with K ¯ ´yapa in the
¯ ryaratnak ¯ ˙ as ¯tra, that it would be better to leave someone with a wrong view
about the self than for the nature of his own teaching to be misunderstood. It is to
make this point that the Buddha introduces a famous medical analogy:
[The Buddha]: Better indeed, K ¯ ´ yapa, that someone holds the view that there
are persons ( pudgalad ˙˙˙ i) as firmly as if it were the Sumeru
mountain than to cling to emptiness as a view (´unyat ¯d ˙˙˙ i).
[K ¯ ´yapa]: What’s the reason for that?
[The Buddha]: Because, K ¯ ´yapa, emptiness is the halting of all constructed
views. He for whom emptiness is itself a view, however, I say is
incurable. K ¯ ´yapa, it’s like a man who is sick. The doctor should
give him some medicine. Suppose that the medicine removed all
the ailments, but itself remained in the man’s body. What do you
think, K ¯ ´yapa—would he then be free from sickness?
[K ¯ ´yapa]: Certainly not, O Lord. The man’s sickness would be even more
intense, the medicine remaining, having removed all the ailments.
[The Buddha]: The Lord said—It’s exactly in that way that emptiness is the
halting of all constructed views. He for whom emptiness is itself a
view, however, I say is incurable. 14
To someone so prone to mistake the nature of the Buddha’s teaching on
emptiness, it is better to tell them that the person exists, as indeed the Buddha did
on a number of occasions. The Buddha’s teachings are emetic, their function to
purge the student of a false conception of themselves and their place in the world.
The comparison of philosophy to a medicine is familiar to us from Epicurus:
Empty are the words of that philosopher who offers therapy for no human
suffering. For just as there is no use in medical expertise if it does not give
therapy for bodily diseases, so too there is no use in philosophy if it does not
expel the suffering of the soul. 15
With the role of philosophy in purging us of suffering, the Buddha will agree, but
his use of the medical analogy is richer in one crucial respect: he argues that the
WHY DID THE BUDDHA SAY WHAT HE DID?
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medicine must expel itself as well as the disease, for otherwise the treatment will
be worse than the illness it was meant to cure. The illness is not suffering per se,
but the attachment that causes suffering, and a transfer of attachment from its
former object to philosophy will render the patient incurable, hopelessly addicted
to a powerful drug. I am not sure one could say that the Buddha understood the
mechanisms of counter-transference, but he certainly appreciated the risk of
becoming a surrogate object of attachment.
My examination will concentrate on a fascinating discussion of the problem
among the M ¯ dhyamika Buddhist philosophers in India. What we will see is that
these Buddhist philosophers understood the Buddha’s words not only as skilful
teaching aids, but also as speech acts from whose illocutionary force and
perlocutionary effects one can extract the true Buddhist doctrine. 16
¯ ryadeva on the nature of protreptic and dialectic
¯ ryadeva, the pupil of N ¯ g ¯ rjuna (c. 150 C.E.) and an important contributor
to the foundation of Madhyamaka, discusses the proper way to read or receive the
Buddha’s words in a passage that clearly picks up themes from the K ¯ ´yapa
passage we have just examined:
For an ordinary person, thinking in terms of a self is better than [trying to] think
in terms of no self. They just get to a bad state [if they try]; only someone
exceptional gets peace. [Thinking in terms of] no self is called the unrivalled door
to peace, the terror of wrong views, and the sphere of all the Buddhas. Simply
mentioning this teaching frightens ordinary people. What powerful thing
doesn’t frighten others, after all? The Tath ¯ gatas didn’t assert this teaching in
order to be argumentative. Nonetheless, it burns up anti-theses, just as fire
[burns up] fuel. (C ´ 12.12 – 15) 17
The Buddha’s words aim at a transformation. Their primary purpose is neither to
refute alternative views, nor to prove the truth of the Buddha’s own. Their principal
function is protreptic and not dialectic. 18 The background to ¯ ryadeva’s remark
lies in the idea that the transformation to which the Buddha’s words are aimed is
available only to someone who is sufficiently open-minded, not overly wedded to
their own views or to the practice of argumentation and debate; a person who will
not be too distressed to discover that what they have believed until now is
mistaken (C ´ 12.24 – 5). Such a person is, as I have put it, receptive to the truth. 19 If
the listener’s mind is closed, however, no simple statement of the Buddha’s
teaching will open it, nor will those teachings have the desired protreptic effect.
¯ ryadeva argues that one ought not give up altogether on such a person, for they
can still be helped to lead a good and virtuous life. The way to do this is to exploit
their own attachment to self, encouraging them to live better lives and develop
their own virtue by tapping their prudential motives of self-concern. A well-
conducted life will take one to heaven—although not any further:
Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin