Category: History

Who Is Amida Buddha: the Buddha of Infinite Light?

Hello Readers,

Recently I talked about the Pure Land Buddhist tradition, and in particular the Three Pure Land Sutras that are central to the tradition.

But then I realized that I’ve never really explained who Amida (Amitabha) Buddha is. Now that the English language site for Jodo Shu has been retired, I wanted to fill in some gaps in information, and explain Amida Buddha’s significance to the Buddhist religion at large.

Who Is Amida?

Amida (阿弥陀) Buddha is short for Amitabha Buddha: the Buddha of Infinite Light. Sometimes he is alternatively called Amitayus: the Buddha of Infinite Life too.

Amida Buddha is a cosmic, almost timeless Buddha who is said to dwell “very far” to the west in a realm called Sukhavati in Sanskrit, which means “Land of Bliss [or Joy]”. Over time, people just call it the Pure Land.

A reproduction of the Taima Mandala, an 8th century tapestry in Japan depicting the Pure Land

The Pure Land should not be confused with Heaven. It is a peaceful, safe refuge. In the Pure Land, people can escape difficult circumstances and be surrounded by many excellent Buddhist teachers. Even the very air and animals preach the Buddha-Dharma. Best of all, the sutras emphasize that one can be reborn there easily … if they so choose. It is not required in Buddhism, but it is available

The vast light of Amida Buddha (hence “Buddha of Infinite Light”) reaches out in all directions of the cosmos:

“The light of Amitāyus shines brilliantly, illuminating all the buddha lands of the ten directions. There is no place where it is not perceived. I am not the only one who now praises his light….”

The Sutra of the Buddha of Immeasurable Life, translation by Rev. Hisao Inagaki

and provides comfort to those who encounter it, inviting them to be reborn in the Pure Land:

“….If, sentient beings encounter his light, their three defilements are removed; they feel tenderness, joy and pleasure; and good thoughts arise. If sentient beings in the three realms of suffering see his light, they will all be relieved and freed from affliction. At the end of their lives, they all reach emancipation.”

The Sutra of the Buddha of Immeasurable Life, translation by Rev. Hisao Inagaki

This Buddha’s promise to rescue all beings, regardless of who they are, has been very attractive to people in difficult social circumstances: women (who were thought spiritually inferior in those days), the poor, and illiterate who toiled all day with no chance to invest in other spiritual development.

However many monks devote at least part of their time and effort toward Amida as well. As a Buddhist tradition, devotion to Amida is very broad and inclusive.

Further, everyone has a slightly different idea on who Amida Buddha is, what the Pure Land is, and so on. This is fine. There is no orthodox interpretation. Buddhism is more concerned with practice, so how one interprets this tradition up to them.

Some people devote themselves fully to Amida Buddha, others venerate Amida Buddha as one among a larger tradition. Again, it is up to the individual.

What Does Amida Look Like?

Amida Buddha is often depicted with gold color imagery, sometimes red. Compare with someone like the Medicine Buddha who is often depicted with lapis lazuli color (deep blue).

The gold color is based on the Pure Land Sutras that describe every person there, including the Buddha, as having gold-colored skin. Further, gold shines, so it fits the Buddha’s symbolism as a Buddha of light.

In some art, Amida is seated in meditation.

Amida Buddha statue at Sensoji (Asakusa Temple) in Tokyo, Japan
Amida Buddha statue at Kamakura, Japan, also known as the Great Buddha (daibutsu) of Kamakura

In some art, Amida is standing, with his hands in specific gestures.

Amida Buddha welcoming the deceased, with his attendants, to the Pure Land. A medieval Japanese painting.
A small home altar I purchased from Tsukiji Honganji in Tokyo about 10 years ago.
A tiny, pocket image of Amida Buddha I purchased at Zojoji Temple near Tokyo Tower in Japan.

Buddhist statues are full of symbolism, they are not intended to be accurate portrayals. They convey meaning. The double-“OK” hand gestures used by Amida, one hand up, one hand down with palm up, means something like all beings are welcome.

Why Amida?

Someone learning about Buddhism will probably find this very confusing: why is there a “Buddhist Jesus” when the religion is supposed to be about meditation and finding enlightenment? Is this a sign of Buddhism’s decadence and decline?

Buddhism can be a tough religion to explain because it is really broad. Much broader than a “Buddhism for Dummies” book can explain.

The historical founder, Shakyamuni Buddha, was like a doctor describing the state of things (e.g. the Dharma), and providing a “prescription” (e.g. Buddhist practice) to help cure the “ills” of the world.

But within that, Shakyamuni Buddha gave people a lot of autonomy. He described the world as like a river with two shores: one shore full of strife and dissatisfaction, the other peace and wellbeing. He described the need to build a raft to cross from one shore to the other. But how exactly to build that raft is up to you.

He held students, especially monks, to high standards of conduct, but as for putting teachings into practice he tailored different practices to different audiences, or to suit the person. Contrary to popular conception there are various forms of meditation taught even in the earliest traditions, not just mindfulness.

Mahayana Buddhism, one of two major branches of Buddhism, really emphasizes this diversity of practices because it recognizes the concept of upaya (expedient means): whatever works at that time for that person and helps them stay in the Buddhist path is right for them.

It’s partly why there are so many Buddhist figures, so many chants and sutras, and so many different sects. Each of these represent a different “gate” for entering the Buddhist path.

Anyhow, the existence of Amida Buddha, along with other figures such as Kannon, helps fill in a gap where some Buddhist practices and regiments just aren’t practical for most people, and also provides a sense of assurance in an uncertain world (speaking from experience). Those who find the “mind-only” interpretation of Amida attractive can also take comfort that nurturing Amida Buddha in one’s own mind helps awaken the Buddha within. Further, a timeless Buddha like Amida avoids the challenges of the interpreting the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, through various layers of culture and history.2

As Amida Buddha is a tradition within the larger tradition, some Buddhists gravitate toward Amida, and some do not. Each person according to their own path. Mahayana Buddhism is large enough to embrace them all.

Namu Amida Butsu

P.S. Featured photo is the famous “Black Amida” statue at Zojoji Temple near Tokyo Tower in Japan. This was the statue that was venerated by the Tokugawa Shoguns back in the day.

1 The use of light symbolism in Amida Buddha is thought to possibly borrow from Zoroastrianism, which is possible given the contacts between the Parthians and the Buddhist community. Light is central to Zoroastrianism, but not mentioned in early Buddhist culture. The concept of Amida Buddha is definitely Indian-Buddhist, but Buddhists in the northwest of India often borrowed artistic concepts from neighboring cultures. Another example is Greco-Buddhist art.

2 Early Mahayana Buddhism was a critic of the “pilgrimage” culture at the time in India, where there was increasing importance of the holy sites, and the holy relics of the historical Buddha. Mahayana shifted the emphasis toward the timeless Dharma, and Buddhas as embodying this Dharma.

It’s similar to how people in other religions split hairs over what the religious founder said, based on layers in interpretation, or how people try in vain to recreate the original community (again through layers and layers of interpretation).

The Pious Prince Shotoku

This pagoda (Buddhist stupa) we saw in Kyoto near Kiyomizudera is among others attributed to Prince Shotoku.

The 6th century Prince Shotoku (Shōtoku Taishi, 聖徳太子) holds a revered place in Japanese culture not unlike Constantine the Great, Emperor Ashoka, or Good King Wenceslas. Even today, kids in Japan learn about Prince Shotoku through comic books, art and even the two-thousand yen bill. Even my son, who’s grown up in both Japanese and American culture has learned about the famous prince who was so smart that he could listen to ten conversations at once and recall each individually.

On a historical note, several famous Buddhist temples and pagoda (Buddhist stupa) are attributed to Prince Shotoku, including Horyuji. Further, he reorganized the Yamato court in a Confucian-style bureaucracy and is said to have composed an early Buddhist constitution.

But who was Prince Shotoku?

Prince Shotoku was part of a powerful triad at the time, consisting of Empress Suiko, a rare example of a powerful empress in Japanese history, Prince Shotoku as regent and advisor, and Soga no Umako, head of the powerful and reformist Soga Clan with strong connections to Korean and Chinese communities.

Japan at this time was emerging from geographic isolation and increasingly establishing cultural contacts with the Korean Peninsula, and with Tang-Dynasty China. This led to a power struggle between more conservative, nativist clans such as the Mononobé and Nakatomi, and reformist groups such as the Soga. The triad above were definitely reformist, and clashed with the conservative faction eventually leading to war.

According to the Nihon Shoki, on the eve of battle, Prince Shotoku prayed to the Four Heavenly Kings (a group of Buddhist guardian deities) for success. Upon crushing the Mononobe and their allies, Prince Shotoku built and dedicated the temple of Shitennnoji to the victory. The rest, as they say, is history.

Let’s talk about some of the things attributed to Prince Shotoku…

Buddhist Constitution

In 604, Prince Shotoku supposedly promulgated a seventeen article constitution based on Buddhist and Confucian principles: the jūshichijō kenpō (十七条憲法). Unlike a modern constitution, it was not legally binding, but more of a vague statement of governance, and was later replaced by the Ritsuryo System in the 8th century.

Translations of the 17 Article Constitution are hard to find, but you can see examples of it here and here.

Japan’s New Name

Names for Japan in early, early history varied and inconsistent. Chinese officials called it the land of Wa (倭), and Japan often called itself Wakoku (倭国) or Yamato (大和). However, the modern Japanese name for Japan, Nihon (日本) is attributed to a letter that Prince Shotoku wrote introducing his sovereign to the Sui Dynasty in China:

“From the sovereign of the land of the rising sun (hi izuru tokoro) to the sovereign of the land of the setting sun.”

The “land of the rising sun” evolved into Nihon (日本, lit. “where the sun comes from”).

Further, by putting the Emperor of Japan on equal footing as the Emperor of China, Prince Shotoku was not so subtly rejecting the Chinese-centric world view.

The Cap and Rank System

Prince Shotoku is also credited with establishing the first meritocracy in Japan in 603, inspired by Chinese Confucianism called the Kan’i Jūnikai (冠位十二階, “Twelve Cap and Rank System). The idea was to get out of hereditary government appointments, and promote ministers based on skill and talent, using a series of colored caps to correspond with rank (instead of lineage).

Promulgation of Buddhism

A copy of the Lotus Sutra said to be composed by Prince Shotoku. 日本語: 尾上八郎English: Hachiro Onoue, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Prince Shotoku was said to be a great promoter of the Buddhist faith in Japan. We talked about the conflict with the nativist Mononobé clan earlier, who held to the Shinto faith, but after Shotoku’s victory, he continued to build temples such as Horyu-ji and stupas (like the one shown above), copy sutras, and so on.

Further, later generations of Buddhist teachers in Japan revered Prince Shotoku almost as a cult figure, often conflated with Bodhisattva Kannon. Even today, if you go to many Jodo Shinshu Buddhist temples, you will often see a scroll of Prince Shotoku to the side of the central altar due to the founder Shinran’s devotion to Shotoku.

Historicity

The historicity of Prince Shotoku is interesting though. While a historical figure named Prince Umayado (厩戸皇子) is thought to have really existed, and is thought to be the origin of Prince Shotoku, many of the stories and accomplishments attributed to him may have come from other sources.

Early Japan at this time was importing much mainland culture through the Korean kingdoms of Baekje and Silla, as well as China, and this often meant that immigrant families migrated to serve the early Japanese court. The Hata clan, for example, came from Silla.

The book Shotoku shows how certain subtle aspects of the Shotoku myth stories reflect cultural sources from Silla, via immigrant groups such as the Hata clan. This is through specific imagery used, coupled with archeological evidence from known sites in early Japan where immigrant groups habited, and their influence on local Shinto shrine practices.

For example, a famous story in the Nihon Shoki about Prince Shotoku and the Beggar of Kataoka reads as follows, with [my additions] and (additions from original author):

21st year, 12th month, 1st day.

The crown prince [Shotoku] made a journey to Kataoka. At that time there was a starving man who was lying at the side of the road. He asked for (the beggar’s) name, but he said nothing. The crown prince seeing this, gave him food and drink. He then took off his cloak, and covered the beggar with it, saying “lie there in peace.” He then made a song.

12th month, second day.

The crown prince sent a messenger to see the starving man. The messenger returned and said “The serving man is already dead.” The crown prince was greatly saddened by this and he therefore had them bury the man at that spot in a tomb that was firmly shut. Several days later [trimmed for brevity] he sent (another) messenger to look (at the tomb). The messenger returned and said “When I arrived at the tomb, (the earth) was firm and had not moved. (Yet) when I opened it and looked inside the corpse had already disappeared. There was only the clothing folded above the casket.”

At this the crown prince once again sent the messenger back to retrieve the clothing. He then wore it as he always had done. The people then all marveled at this and said “It is true that a sage knows a sage!”…

Shotoku, by Michael I Como, page 102

The story is hard for Western audiences, and even modern Japanese ones, to understand without additional context. Elements such as the dead resurrecting were motifs used by an immigrant community called the Wani clan from the Korean peninsula in their origin stories, and the notion of a “sage prince” was an idea imported from Chinese-Buddhist culture.

The book takes a very detailed an exhaustive look at the legends and stories of the time, but this example shows how the legend of Prince Shotoku was gradually constructed from obscure cultural trends and symbolism popular in antiquity, and conflated over generations. In later versions, for example, the beggar is the Indian monk Bodhidharma.

The Joseon Dynasty of Korea: death by factions

If political gridlock, government shutdowns due to budget fights, and rabid factionalism get you down, consider the case of the Joseon Dynasty of Korea (1392–1894). The Joseon Dynasty, also known as Joseon-guk in Korean (朝鮮國, 조선국) was the last and longest of royal dynasties of Korea. At 502 years long, it is also among the longest dynasties in world history.

After the rise of Buddhism in East Asia, Confucian teachings took a backseat for a time, until it re-emerged centuries later under a doctrine called Neo-Confucianism. Neo-Confucianism is a fascinating subject all by itself, but it’s a hard one to describe to Western audiences. It’s enough to know that it was an effort to reinforce early Confucian ethics with more philosophy and metaphysics, while avoiding mysticism.

This is important because Neo-Confucianism became the official state doctrine early the foundation the Joseon Dynasty, just as it had become Ming-Dynasty China and Tokugawa-era Japan. Schools of Confucian scholars would staff the elaborate bureaucracies used by each sovereign, and provide advice on policies, or criticism if the sovereign’s conduct was deemed inappropriate or immoral. As the beacon of a rational and orderly society, the sovereign was held to a very high standard, but also (in theory) commanded unwavering loyalty from his subjects. Because orderly and rational societies were valued by Confucian thinking, there was heavy emphasis on ritual, etc. Everyone had their place, and everyone was expected to carry out their moral obligations, putting the needs of society over their own profit.

On paper, this was how it all worked.

In reality, the Confucian bureaucracy (the yangban) of Korea grew very powerful, and different schools of Confucian thought began to compete with one another for dominance in the Joseon bureaucracy. Over generations, these rivalries grew very cutthroat, and worse they splintered into sub-factions, and sub-sub-factions, all vying with one another. Further, sons of bureaucrats had the wealth and resources necessary to ensure they’d pass the civil service exams and become bureaucrats themselves. The Iron Law of Oligarchy comes to mind.

Source: https://xkcd.com/1095

This might seem kind of silly at first glance, since it obviously contradicted basic Confucian ethics.

However, this all began when bureaucrats in the court would debate how to address policy issues at the time, or question certain political appointments. Inevitably reform and conservative wings developed with different views of how to address such issues, and the leading figures of each wing would try to then pack the bureaucracy with their own men.

Is this starting to sound familiar?

The back and forth by factions, starting with the Easterners (dong-in, 동인 or 東人) and Westerners (seo-in, 서인 or 西人) began over subtle ideological disagreements. Then, each of these factions broke up into different factions. The Westerns faction alone broke up into the Noron (노론, 老論) and Soron (소론, 少論) depending on whether you supported Confucian scholar Song Si-yeol‘s reformist policies (the Noron) or not (the Soron). The Easterner faction similarly split up into Buk-in (“northerners”, 북인, 北人) and Nam-in (“southerners”, 남인, 南人) factions.

The king’s response to each of these factions varied by sovereign. In some cases, a king would support one faction over another. But if that faction got too powerful or out of line, the losing faction could sometimes convince the king to purge them from the bureaucracy. Sometimes the purges became extremely violent, with many faction members executed such as the one in 1589.

Inevitably, once a faction was crushed or purged, another would take its place in the court and consoldiate power, requiring yet another purge. By 1545 there had already been four blood purges.

Portrait of King Yeongjo of Joseon, source

By the time of King Yeongjo (1694 – 1776, 영종, 英宗) the fighting between factions and the bloody purges had gotten so out of hand, that Yeongjo survived an assassination attempt in his youth.

Yeongjo tried to take the high-ground in the conflict, implementing a policy of Tangpyeong (탕평, 蕩平) or “great harmony”. Yeongjo tried to stay above the fray and remained somewhat successful. Barely. By the reign of the next king, his grandson Jeongjo, the bureaucrats were at it again and King Jeongjo fought off a coup by the Noron faction.

In spite of the coup, the Noron dominates the court after Jeongjo’s later (and mysterious) death until they were ousted for good, but by this time the functions of government were locked in by certain powerful families and from the 1800’s onward the Joseon became isolationist and dysfunctional at a time when Western and Japanese powers grew in strength and aggression. The reforms of 1895 were simply too little too late to save the Dynasty and Korea was annexed by Iapan in 1905.

Much like the Eastern Roman Empire (i.e. the Byzantines), the Joseon Dynasty survived and thrived at times when there was a powerful ruler who could push for reforms, and keep interests in check. But there were always sharks circling the water, and as soon as they smelled weakness there would be bloody infighting and this would reset the clock on any meaningful reforms. Paralyzed by internal strife, other more dynamic, external powers eventually pulled ahead and defeated them.

Portrait of Kim Yuk (1570 – 1658), source.

It also should be noted that were plenty of good, sincere Confucian scholars who made a genuine effort at good governance, such as Kim Yuk, but in the end, powerful men always felt they could do it better when they sensed an opportunity.

P.S. astute readers may have noticed that I keep posting the names using both Hangeul script and Chinese characters (Hanja). Until the modern era, both were used together in a kind of mixed fashion, especially when a person wanted to avoid ambiguity (the Chinese characters are more distinct). Compared to neighbors like Japan or China, Chinese characters were used comparatively less (Hangeul was usually sufficient and simpler), but remain an important part of the language and culture.

The Rise and Fall of the Fujiwara

In our recent visit to Kyoto, the ancient capitol of Japan, we also took a day to visit the city of Nara, which is an even earlier capitol. Downtown Nara has several highlights but two of them are the Buddhist temple of Kofukuji, and the Shinto shrine of Kasuga-Taisha (“Kasuga Grand Shrine”). Kofuku-ji Temple is one of the central temples of the once powerful Hosso sect, and Kasuga Grand Shrine is a famous shrine within Shinto religion,1 and hosts a primeval forest that has been untouched since antiquity. I might post more photos of each later.

The famous Sarasawa Pond with Kofukuji Temple on the left. Taken in July 2023.

What makes these two sites important is that they were both tied to the powerful Fujiwara Clan.

During the Nara Period of Japanese history, the Fujiwara were just one of several noble houses that supported the Imperial family. Back then they were called the Nakatomi (中臣) Clan. During a power-struggle between the Imperial family and the Soga clan, one Nakatomi no Kamatari (614 – 669) came to their rescue and helped defeat the Soga. Thereafter, the Imperial family relied on Kamatari to help reform and strengthen the government. The Nakatomi earned the clan name Fujiwara later under Emperor Tenji. So far so good.

However, starting with Kamatari’s son, Fujiwara no Fuhito (who also helped compile the Nihon Shoki), the clan gradually began to monopolize key positions, increasingly through inter-marriage with the Imperial family. By the 12th century, every member of the Imperial family married members of the Fujiwara clan, over and over, generation after generation. This allowed the head of the Fujiwara to assume the role of “regent” (sesshō, 摂政) to his offspring who were children on the Imperial throne, when switch to “chief advisor” (kanpaku, 関白) when they were old enough to rule on their own. That same advisor could also force the Emperor to abdicate to their son (whose mother was also from the Fujiwara clan) when necessary, allowing the same official to be regent to their grandson.

Further, by holding key government positions, the Fujiwara could also manipulate property laws on their private holdings in the provinces, increasing personal revenue. The Fujiwara were not the only noble houses to do this, even the Imperial family did it, but through their connections and influence, they profited immensely from the untaxed revenue of their lands.

With this increasing power and wealth, the Fujiwara sponsored a number of building projects. One of these was Kofukuji Temple, which was sponsored by the Fujiwara as far back as 669, but with its increasing connections to the Fujiwara, the building complex greatly increased in size and wealth.

Further, the family Shinto shrine of Kasuga Taisha prospered:

But the price of all this interconnectedness between the Fujiwara and religious establishments came at a cost. The religious institutions became extensions of Fujiwara power, with clan members given key positions locking other people out,2 and fielding armies of warrior monks against other rival temples.

By the time the system collapsed, the Fujiwara’s power began to diminish. Kofukuji Temple was largely burned down,3 and the original clan had become so large that it gradually broke up into five different clans, each one marrying with the Imperial family as needed:

JapaneseRomanizationFounded
近衛Konoe12th century
鷹司Takatsukasa1252
九条Kujō1191
一条Ichijō13th century
二条Nijō1242

Some of these new clans, especially the Kujō, even assumed positions of power with the new Kamakura shogunal family after the untimely death of Sanetomo, the 3rd shogun. Further, by the 19th century, with Westernization of Japan (e.g. the Meiji Period) the Five Regent Houses all became merged into the Western-style “peerage“, but by 1945, now hundreds of years since their founding, the five regent clans were finally abolished for good with the post-World War II reforms of the Imperial system.

In any case, after the 12th century, the centers of power had since moved. Kofukuji Temple, having been burned down in various conflicts, never quite rebuilt its power. Newer forms of Buddhism had taken root, and new centers of religious devotion had arisen. Kasuga Taisha grand shrine, being located in Nara, was now remote as the capitol had moved further and further east. When I visited Kofukuji Temple in 2010, and again this year (2023), some things had changed. The central Golden Hall (中金堂, Chū-kondō), had finished reconstruction for the first time in centuries. But even now, many of the original buildings have not been reconstructed.

Throughout Japanese history, the Fujiwara clan maintained prestige for centuries, but actual power continued to slip from their grasp bit by bit after the 12th century, and these historical relics in Nara are shadow of their former selves, and of Fujiwara power.

1 People are often surprised to learn that Japan has essentially two religions: Buddhism which came from India (via China), and Shinto which is the native religion. The two have been pretty intertwined culturally for centuries. It’s a long story.

2 Some of those who were excluded went on to found other Buddhist sects later partly out of disillusionment with the establishment.

3 Quite a few temples burned down in times of war, not just Kofukuji. Todaiji also burned down many times, as well as Enryakuji on Mt Hiei, among others.

“The Buddha”, not “Buddha”

Recently, I was watching an excellent video by Extra History on the history of Buddhism, and I was happy to see that they used the term “the Buddha”, not just “Buddha”. This might not seem like a big deal, but it helps to know the difference.

The word Buddha comes from Sanskrit, and means “an Awakened One”, someone who has accomplished Enlightenment and is fully unbound (e.g. Nirvana).

In any case, “Buddha” is a title, not a name. A person who accomplishes Enlightenment is a Buddha.

Further, in Buddhism, it is thought there is not just one Buddha, but many Buddhas.

Buddhism thinks in terms of very long time, as in countless eons that span a near infinite flow of time. Within that time, when ignorance prevails, a Buddha arises. It works like a cycle.

Think of the teachings (a.k.a. the Dharma) of Buddhism, as something like the laws of physics. The laws of physics pervade the Universe, whether anyone notices or not. Along comes someone like Newton who observes them, articulates them, and teachers others. In the same way, a Buddha is one who discovers the Dharma, articulates it and teachers others. After that Buddha passes away, eventually the Dharma is forgotten again, and in time a new Buddha arises to repeat the cycle.

Thus, the historical Buddha, the one who founded Buddhism as an organized religion around 5th century BCE, is thought to one of a long line of Buddhas that span those countless eons. He is one Buddha of many. And since he was born from the ancient Shakya clan in northern India, he is called Shakyamuni Buddha, or “the Buddha from the Shakya clan”. His birth name was Siddhartha Gautama (sometimes Gotama), but his title in Buddhism is Shakyamuni Buddha.

And now you know….

P.S. More on buddhas, buddhas and buddhas.

Isis and the Buddha: an Egyptian discovery

Recently, archaeologists have uncovered a statue of the Buddha, not in India or Asia, but in ancient Egypt! The statue, according to the Egyptian government, was uncovered as part of a temple dedicated to Isis, and crafted by a local Indian Buddhist community during the early Roman Imperial age, the Principate.

The cult of Isis was a fascinating example of religion in the Hellenistic Period, and inherited later when the Romans took over the eastern Mediterranean. During the Hellenistic Period, a period of constant political rivalries, and large movements of Greek people, and expansion of Greek culture through colonies, the old Olympian religion had increasingly proved unable to help people through difficult times. The old Olympian religion was focused on public cults in a kind of “contractual” religion where people of a city-state publicly worship a particular god, and get something out of it. For more personal needs, there just wasn’t much substance.

Thus, mystery religions such as the Cult of Demeter and others arose. These provided more personal relationships with the gods, and clearer undersetanding of the afterlife, and how one might secure a better fate than just being an empty shade wandering in Hades (cf. Homer’s Odyssey).

When the Macedonian Ptolemy family took over Egypt, they had to reform Greco-Egyptian society into something they could rule legitimately, so certain gods were reinvented or elevated. Egyptians had done this too, but the Ptolemies tapped into this and elevated two gods in particular:

  • Serapis – a kind of hybrid god based loosely on Osiris, but also Zeus.
  • Isis – Osiris’s consort.

Isis’s role in particular grew far beyond the original Egyptian religion and her cults spread across the Roman world. Her status also grew in that she wasn’t just a mother goddess, but the mother goddess: embodying wisdom, magic, maternal love and so on. Other goddess figures from disparate cults were sometimes viewed as just more manifestations of Isis. There are even

A statue of Isis, from the 2nd century CE. Photo: Andreas Praefcke, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Isis’s religion wasn’t organized according to the kind of doctrine or dogma we associate with modern religions, it was still very much a form of personal, devotional worship,1 rather than an “one-size fits all” religion to explain everything. Roman society at large was still a marketplace of religions, but the religions had changed from mostly public ritual (e.g. the Olympian gods) to more internal, personal religion.

So, how does the Buddha fit into all this? That part is still being researched, but given Isis’s status as a goddess of wisdom, putting a statue of the Buddha, a figure also associated with wisdom, in her temple was probably a useful cultural prop. Indian merchants, had a trade colony in Egypt at the time, and the Buddhist religion in India reached a high-water mark at the time, so at least some of the Indian people living in Egypt would know of it, or might even be devotees.

Does that mean that there were Buddhist communities in Roman Egypt? Evidence is very scant. Even if there were, their presence was likely limited to the Indian expat community.

Still, the cultural cross-over is pretty fascinating.

P.S. This is the last post before the family and I head to Japan. When next we meet, I’ll post updates from

1 Similarly, worship of Mithra, a Zoroastrian deity imported into Roman culture, enjoyed widespread devotion among soldiers and other figures. People worshipped the god or goddess they tended to feel most affinity with.

Then As Now

One of my favorite series to watch on Youtube is the Extra Credit series, which covers fascinating, but lesser–known aspects of world history. I’ve touched on the series in a few recent blog posts.

Anyhow, one mini-series covers the rise of militarism in Japan from the 1910’s to 1940’s. As the series points out, most people fixate on Germany and the rise of Hitler, but Japan’s case was notably different in that there was never a central figure, and still retained a multi-party system (albeit barely). And yet, the results speak for themselves.

Episode four in the series in particular shows how things spiraled out of control:

The Meiji-era constitution, adopted from the Prussians in 1890, gave the Emperor control of the military, not the civilian government. As things worsened in the early 1930’s, military factions polarized and started taking matters into their own hands, then claiming patriotism. Sympathetic elements of civilian society then attacked anyone in the government who tried to punish them. Further, racist international policies gave them fuel to justify going it alone.

Vandalism of Niroku Shinpo Sha (Pro-government newspaper office) in 1913. Published by Asahi Shimbun Company, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

But the problem wasn’t just the political structure. As you can see starting at 4:08 or so, few people got a full education, and thus were vulnerable to conspiracy theories, leading to support for violent solutions.

So, now we have a toxic mix of rampant conspiracy theories, poor education, weak civilian government, rampant nationalism, and factional strife. A dangerous mix.

If you’re interested in Japanese history, definitely watch the whole mini-series. Even though I studied much of this in college for my major, I learned a lot anyway.

P.S. Heading overseas soon, wanted to clear the backlog of blog posts I had.

Revisiting the Eastern Romans: the Byzantines

For some time, I have been following podcast called the History of Byzantium Podcast, which covers the lengthy history of the Eastern Romans from 5th century all the way to the fall in 1453, a thousand years later.

“Wait!” you might be wondering, “didn’t the Roman Empire fall in the 4th century to barbarian invasions?!”

Yes, and no.

The reforms of Emperor Diocletian after the Crisis of the Third Century had essentially split the Roman empire into two, smaller more manageable empires:

The small Greek town of Byzantion (Byzanitium in Latin) became increasingly important after Emperor Constantine made it his new capitol, renaming it after himself (Constatinople).

In any case, when the Roman Empire fell, it was only the Western half, which was the less prosperous, less populous half anyway. The eastern half was able to bribe or drive out the hordes, and kept going.

In fact, it kept going until 1453. Over the course of 1,000 years, it gradually changed, losing its Latin influences and becoming increasingly Greek in nature, but until the 4th Crusade, there never was a break in the Roman Empire of the East. Professor Anthony Kaldelis pointed out that Greek people continued to identify themselves as “Roman” even into 20th century during Ottoman times, and even the Ottomans referred to Greece as the Sultanate of Rûm (Rome). Historians use the term “Byzantine” to describe the Eastern Roman Empire, but Romans in the East never used this term. They called themselves “Romania” or “Rome”.

Was it even Roman anymore? Western purists would assume “no” because Rome the city wasn’t part of the empire, but even before the 4th century, Rome had ceased to be the the center of the Empire as the Western half administered things from Ravenna or other cities. Further, Latin was never technically the official language of the Roman Empire (as in, “by law”). Greek and Latin co-existed, and Greek speakers always outnumbered the Latin-speaking ones because of the influence of the earlier Hellenistic period (for example in Roman Egypt).

Alexios I, Komnenos, one of the last great Emperors of the Eastern Roman Empire. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Further, the Republican aspects of the Empire kept going in Eastern half many centuries later. This concept of res publica wasn’t the same as modern English “republic” (never was), as in a specific system of government, but instead was used to describe “Rome” the polity. When the first emperor, Augustus, took over as the princeps (“first among equals”), the term res publica was still widely used to describe Rome, and kept going through the Byzantine era using the Greek equivalent politeia (πολιτεία). The Emperors during the Byzantine era were still installed and overthrown in the same way the earlier Emperors had been.

As Anthony Kaldellis demonstrates, Emperors were always subject to popular will, just as the old Republican consuls had been, and nothing really changed in the Byzantine era. Thus, the res publica of Rome was a continuous spectrum from the earliest days of the republic to the 15th century.

All this is to say that, when we speak of the “Fall of the Roman Empire”, in reality, only some of the Empire fell in the 5th century. The rest, amazingly, kept going. Constantinople was for centuries one of the largest cities in the world, and the Theodosian Walls were never thrown down until the invention of modern cannon warfare.

Like any empire, the Eastern Romans had periods of growth and decline, and as the neighbors gradually caught up in terms of technology and military skill, Constantinople’s power steadily waned. In the days of Julius Caesar, Rome was so far ahead of the Gauls and other neighbors, it was easy to steamroll them, but by the time of Alexios Komnenos, the Eastern Empire faced many complex and powerful enemies, and there’s just only so much a society can do in that scenario. As the host of the podcast explains, the chessboard was very crowded.

So, if you’d like to know more about the Eastern Romans, not Byzantines, please check out the podcast above.

Juneteenth and What It Means For All Of Us

In Charles B Jones’s overview of the Pure Land Buddhist tradition, he talks about a sect called the Yuzu Nembutsu sect (which I explored here), but in particular, he delves into the Buddhist concept of interdepedence, which the sect relies upon:1

Suppose you lay a row of ten coins on a table, and then move the tenth coin in front of the first, shifting the rest over one position. You probably assume that changing the order does not affet what they are in any way. However, from the Huayan point of view, they are not independent of one another; the first is coin one of ten, the second is two of ten, the third is three of ten, and so on. Their relationship with the other coins in the row is part of their identity and figure into the way we conceptualize them. When you take the last coin and move it to the first position, it changes from ten of ten to one of ten. At the same time, since the relation of the other coins to the one you moved has changed, they are no longer the same coins as before either, even though you did not move them.

Charles B Jones, “Pure Land: History, Tradition, and Practice“, page 120

It’s not enough to simply exist, things exist in relation to one another, and what affects one thing affects others. Taken in total, this is the Buddhist-Sanskrit concept of shunyata.

So, what does this have to do with Juneteenth?

The enslavement of Africans, generation after generation didn’t just traumatize and dehumanize black Americans, it dragged all of society down with it. Everyone was adversely impacted by it in one way or another, even those who profited from it. American society was poorer for it, directly contradicting its own high ideals of human rights, and forcing some to use mental gymnastics to justify such a barbaric enterprise, even resorting to organized violence to deflect their own festering guilt and paranoia. This spilled over into such conflicts as the infamous Bleeding Kansas, and then again later in the Civil War, to say nothing of the tragic deaths of countless Black Americans.

Thus, while Juneteenth wasn’t a holiday that I grew up with as a white kid of the 80’s and 90’s, I am glad to see we celebrate it now. Or rather, I am glad we have more awareness now and the holiday has the widespread acceptance it deserves. The emancipation of Black Americans wasn’t the end of discrimination, especially since the Jim Crow laws persisted even as late as the 1960’s, but as soon as slavery ended, America as a whole was that much better for it.

When we see the entire struggle for freedom and equal rights through the lens of Buddhism, it’s not just a problem for Black Americans, it poisons the well for us all. Where one suffers, we all suffer in some way. Where one person is treated with goodwill and dignity, we all benefit. When one black man in this country is unfairly persecuted by the law, or killed by police violence, it wounds us all. Where Americans of different backgrounds come together in a spirit of community, family and so on, we all benefit.

The struggle of Black America, as is struggle of Native Americans, LBGTQ people and so on is everyone’s struggle too. The little things we do on a daily basis to listen to these struggles,2 or to be an ally for others, or even just be kind on a person-by-person basis do affect others, including those we never see. This is a fundamental Buddhist truth, whether we see it or not.

Let us each leave this world a little better than the one we entered.

Namu Amida Butsu

1 The example above was originally composed by Fa-zang (法藏; 643–712), a proponent of the Chinese Huayan school centered around shunyata.

2 Sometimes this can be as simple as letting other people speak about their experiences, and not sucking all the oxygen out of the room with your own thoughts and opinions.

Towards a Modern Buddhism, Sort Of

In my limited spare time, I often follow the amazing Youtube series: Extra History, which covers a lot of unspoken, or lesser-known aspects of world history in the form of short mini-series. One mini-series covers the history of Indonesia through the maritime empire of Majapahit. The last video covers the conversion of Indonesian culture from Hinduism/Buddhism to Islam:

One of the points raised was that Islam was a much more portable religion since it only required books (namely the holy Qur’an), and Arabic religious-cultural practices. In contrast, Buddhism has typically required elaborate monasteries and temples. This is not always the case however, as Buddhism arrived in China as a merchant’s religion as well, and gradually “percolated up” through Chinese society (quoting Charles B Jones in this excellent book, which I’ll cover in another post soon) but it suffered greatly when Buddhism was persecuted around 845, destroying many of the great monastic centers of learning that had sprung up over the centuries.

Setting aside the virtues of one religion versus another (which is definitely not my point here), it shows how religion is healthiest when it is portable, flexible, and adds value to the society at large, rather than stifling it. I would term this “heavy religion” versus “lightweight religion”.

One can easily look at any religion and finds examples where religious institutions meshed with politics, or became bloated with doctrine, dogma and philosophy after an initial period of innovation. One can easily find examples where religion catered to the well-educated elite, and became aloof to the problems of people on the ground.

This is the problem I think that faces Buddhism in the West.

Buddhism began as an ascetics religion, since this was very commonplace at the time in India (5th c. BCE), hence it prioritized the monastic community, and the monastic community has in turn provided an important element of stability and continuity across the ages. But also, that was a particular time, place and culture. Even when Buddhism circulated in Chinese culture, they ran into cultural clashes with the native Confucian literati that found the monk’s begging for alms, and living celibate in monasteries (instead of fulfilling filial duties to parents) grating and disgraceful. This forced Chinese Buddhist communities to adapt and disregard some practices from India while defending against Confucian criticism.

Similarly, the import of Asian Buddhism to the West has hit plenty of culture clashes, too many to list here. Some of this comes in the form of shady teachers, who abuse the teacher-disciple relationship, monastic communities that demand excessive alms and funding, or cults that can’t “make it” back home, but find fertile ground in the West preying upon naïve people. Finally, speaking from personal experience, many Buddhist converts in the West can behave elitist, even when well-intentioned, thus conflating bad stereotypes about “liberal, elitist culture”.

People have tried to solve this culture clash in a number of ways, either reinventing Buddhism to fit a “hip, new Western society” (groan…), or double-down on traditional Buddhist culture, either becoming insular or making well-meaning, but flawed attempts to translate traditional culture to a different culture. Or, they’re just shady guru cults.

None of these approaches are wrong, by the way (except the cults), but it underscores challenges for religions in crossing one culture to another.

But put yourself in the shoes of a working-class person in small town in rural America, with a demanding, minimum-wage job trying to support their kids. Expecting such a person to master the subtleties of Tibetan culture, or to learn Sanskrit mantras, or to find a reliable Zen meditation teacher is asking a lot. Some people make it work, most simply can’t.

It’s not their fault either; these Buddhist practices are all luxuries that the vast majority of society can’t realistically invest time in. Most people spend most of their time just making ends meet. It was true in medieval Asian society as much as it is today. While people in Silicon Valley can afford comfy desk jobs and trips to the next door coffee shop in between meetings, the people working in that coffee shop have to work annoying day jobs serving their coffee, and take a long commute home with 2-3 buses. And don’t forget the unseen people cleaning up the tech office overnight, scrubbing toilets, etc.

The point is is that all of these people are important to society, and if religious teachings aren’t relevant, useful, and meaningful to all of them, it will never spread beyond niche communities.

This is the problem that Buddhism faces, I think. I don’t have a good solution for this either. In Asia, similar problems have been dealt through lay-oriented Buddhist communities, both modern and medieval, gradually developed over decades or even generations, where monastic institutions are minimal or non-existent, and practices are straightforward and portable, yet steeped in deeper meaning in line with mainstream Mahayana Buddhism. Such communities have yet to fully take root in the West, and until they do, Buddhism will remain a tiny niche in the West and doomed to wither on the vine.