Is Buddhism a Consistent Philosophical System?
By: Bertram Gregory Liyanage
Tags: Bertram Gregory Liyanage, Buddhism, Buddhist Philosophy

Two monks are stepping to see an abandoned Buddhist cave in Pune, Maharashtra, India.

Well, many, many questions on Buddhism come to the mind of my students and friends when they are pondering beside me. They know the best means to tempt me for a friendly chat is to inquire a question related to Buddhism. Answering them, each time I take some time to locate their question in the right part of Buddhism, for both of us must know which Buddhism can answer the question! Buddhism is indeed not unilateral! Let’s forget, for a moment, that Buddhism is considered a world religion since I rarely peep into that facet of Buddhism. As for the philosophy of Buddhism, I must be very clear at the outset, Buddhism is not an ‘ism’ of Buddha, the historical founder of this philosophy, but a collective effort of thousands of philosophers over two thousand years, conflating variegated beauty. I believe the reader of this post might have already overheard some words like Theravada Buddhism, Zen Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhism, Pure Land Buddhism etc. Writing a short and succinct blog post to explain all of these varieties, in effect, is impossible and not the scope of this post as well. Instead, I hope to expose some philosophical frameworks of Buddhism historically created in the different phases of Buddhism, which are underpinning to conciliate many heated Buddhist philosophical contestations.

Buddha did not usher in a culture

“Look! Prophet Mohammad has taught us how to drink, how to eat, how to wear; essentially, he taught us everything how to live. That’s why Islam is pure religion,” said once Kadar, one of my good Muslim friends, highlighting that Buddha did not instruct his lay-followers in the same fashion. Once again, forget for a minute that this comparison is invalid as Buddha is a philosopher whereas Mohammad is a religious founder. A philosopher, guiding everyday life, can play along two routes; one is imposing a code of conduct as Mohammad did, and the other is helping people understand their norms and values as Socrates did. Buddha did follow both of these courses, but not to any extreme extent. His method was rather different, but not innovative, of course. He created a society within our society. That is the group of his monastic followers, both male and female. He admonished some rules for their self-discipline, instructed some practices to cultivate their minds with valuable qualities, taught the way of correct thinking to move beyond unjustified beliefs. It is his socialist society. He conceived, as I believe, it would be an exemplar for the rest of human society. (I must confess, practically this didn’t occur! Merely, in principle we still have hope).

Describing a set of behavioural patterns as ‘Buddhist culture’ we have to limit our observation only for the Buddhist monastic community. For lay-followers, there is no ‘must’ to follow. (Even five precepts, most primary ethical rules for lay-followers, are not a must.) The only requirement is to understand fundamental Buddhist teachings and behave accordingly. This ‘liberal attitude’ bred an immense diversity among Buddhist cultures across the globe. Every Buddhist country enjoyed its own culture, sometimes, adjusting some cultural values to fit with Buddhist core values, and sometimes, reinterpreting them within the Buddhist framework. So, if you come up a converted Buddhist with the name ‘Ismail,’ please don’t ask the reason to keep his Islamic name after conversion. If a Buddhist wishes you, ‘Merry Christmas,’ not necessary to astonish. Changing names, greeting patterns, or any accustomed behaviour in society is not a requirement of Buddhism as long as they do not crash with Buddhist core values, that is, refraining from what is harmful to oneself, to others, or both, and having ‘neutralised epistemology.’

The Buddha talked to the unphilosophical mind

‘Early Buddhism’ is a comparatively new term coined by modern writers to distinguish Buddha’s early discourses from later interpolations. But the term ‘early Buddhism’ has remained vague ever since its first appearance. What are the earliest texts? What is the demarcating line to divide ‘early’ and ‘later’? What are the measurements to label a certain discourse ‘early’? I’m afraid, there are no unanimous answers for these questions. Speaking in the limit of certitude, we can derive one affirmation from studies on this regard: Pali texts available in Sri Lanka and Southeast Asian countries, also known as Theravada countries, and their corresponding Chinese translations represent the oldest version of Buddhism. This doesn’t mean at all that all Pali Buddhist scriptures contain ‘original’ or ‘pure’ version of Buddhism, for they also underwent a series of amendments and elaborations over time. Still, modern scholarship is success to deduce safely and rightly some original spirit of Buddhism from these texts.

According to these texts, Buddha himself accepts that he does not speak consistently! It is because he considers the particular situation he confronts, the peculiar conditions of his listener and so on before preaching something. Most of his sermons, if not all, are ‘contextual’. His listener, for example, is an ordinary farmer, potter, goldsmith or, sometimes, a savant brahmin, merchant or king. He changes, therefore, the tone, the way of elaboration etc. to facilitate the listener for better comprehension, despite he preaches the same doctrinal matter. These early scriptures, therefore, are rich in motley discourses addressing virtually all aspects of human life. They are, nevertheless, not entirely devoid of unitary philosophical teaching. Universal values and philosophical generalisations are usually impregnated in these ‘private lessons.’ But we must be extremely precautious while withdrawing them out of their particular context. A bunch of these philosophical generalisations might enable some scholars to construct ‘a consistent philosophical system of early Buddhism.’ But those who realise that Buddha is a philosopher in the street might wonder why there must be a ‘consistency of delivering truth’ while methods of human understanding vary in Brobdingnagian steps.

Consistency and two truths

Saṃgīti is a Buddhist discourse where we first see the suggestion to collect Buddha’s teachings systematically for the preservation purpose. There, however, it does not imply to collect Buddha’s utterances intact. Maybe, Buddha did not expect so. He might want to collect the philosophical or doctrinal cruxes of his teachings, but his disciples took an advanced step of accumulating them with the exact contextual format. ‘Consistency’ became a highly demanded requirement for such an initiative.

In the early scriptures, we notice some attempts to make Buddhist teachings consistent. Ven. Sāriputta (sometimes in Sanskrit texts, Śaradvatīputra), one of two chief disciples of Buddha, used a categorisation as provisional (sappariyāya) and non-provisional (nippariyāya) to avoid any apparent divergence of Buddha’s teachings. Buddha himself introduced two aspects of his teachings; (1) neyyattha — discourses whose meaning should be furnished by the convention and (2) nītattha — discourses whose meaning is implied within itself. These two aspects are tantamount to the categorisation of Ven. Sāriputta’s. If a discourse requires supplied meaning by convention or its meaning should be deduced from the context it has provisional meaning, whereas the meaning is conspicuous in the discourse itself, it has non-provisional meaning.

Philosophical minds that seek consistency usually have one hidden desire for their quest, that is, an appeal to the truth. For most philosophers, even for Buddha, the truth is one. When Buddha’s teachings have two aspects, does it mean that one aspect deceives listeners and the other tells the truth? If not, how to harmonise these two aspects? For this inevitable inquiry, Samādhirāja-sutra, a Mahayana text, discusses these two aspects of Buddha’s teachings and brings in the concept of two truths; neyyattha represents conventional truth (saṃvṛtisatya) and nītattha ultimate truth (paramārthasatya). Does this mean two layers of truth? No! The revelation is a bit surprising.

When Buddha says “truth is one, there is no second” he refers to a simple logical concept; given that P is true in one context P cannot be ~P in the same context. Accordingly, conventional truth means something is true in the given context and similar contexts, but it is not applicable (that means neither true nor not-true) out of its particular context. Ultimate truth, in contrast, is true in the given context and it has some universal value applicable in different settings. Otherwise, it doesn’t mean ‘ineffable, sacred or eternal truth’ as in Theology. This is the first attempt to reconcile incompatible teachings of Buddha into a coherent scheme, which was taken unanimously by all later Buddhist schools. (Note that Pali term sacca, [and Sanskrit term satya also] though rendered in English as ‘truth,’ has two meanings as ‘truth’ and ‘reality.’ When Buddha talks about ‘four noble truths’ (cattāri ariyasaccāni) he means four realities, not four truths.)

The fundamental teaching of Buddhism

Consistency is impossible without the gravity of kernel teaching. In early Buddhism, Buddha states, in reductionist style, that what he teaches is “suffering and the emancipation from suffering,” bringing out the crux of his teachings (Alagaddūpama-sutta). ‘Suffering’ is a technical term in Buddhism, which can be hardly translated into any languages. On the surface level, it means physical and mental pain, of which, Buddha assures the release of mental pain only. Arahant ideal, the result of early Buddhism, is an impermeable state of mind to which pain cannot infiltrate. To achieve this state, ‘suffering’ is to be realised on a philosophical level. Philosophically speaking, it betrays a ‘suffering from our conceptual constructions.’ Concepts, either verbal or non-verbal, represent the ‘existence of objects’ which conveys a sense of substantiality and, in turn, constitutes our knowledge. We ‘suffer,’ in the fullest philosophical sense of the word, from the ignorance that desists us from discriminating insubstantiality of conceptually existing things. For example, despite our scientific knowledge of the ephemeral external world, we are fumbling for the pen kept yesterday in the table. As long as we use ‘concepts’ to think, we can’t consciously extricate from our knowledge. Hence the remedy is the deconstruction of the concepts. Buddha, explaining the nature of his enlightenment, remarks that “the mind being devoid of constructions has reached to the removal of desire” (visaṃkhāragataṃ cittaṃ taṇhāṇaṃ khayam ajjhagā). All teachings of Buddha, eventually, flow to this destination.

“I bought a few introductory books to Buddhism; they all talk about ‘four noble truths’ as the cardinal teaching of Buddhism,” said Irosha, a good friend of mine and batchmate also, showing some books in her hand. She was Roman Catholic but reading Buddhism for her involvement. She asked me “is it the fundamental teaching of Buddhism?” The answer here is yes and no.

When and how ‘four noble truths’ came to be regarded as the ‘fundamental’ is not certain in the history of Buddhism. But we are certain that it received the proper recognition at a very early date of systematising Buddhism, for all Buddhist schools have provided some explicit references to ‘four noble truths.’ In the early scriptures, as usual, Buddha has emphasised four noble truths, dependent co-origination and some other principal teachings depending on the context. Recognising four noble truths as ‘fundamental’ is not unfounded. It is complementary to the aforementioned teaching of ‘suffering’: It comprises both theoretical expositions of ‘suffering’ and the practice to transform individual perception to eradicate the suffering. Secondarily, most of the early Buddhist teachings can be logically reduced to ‘four noble truths.’ Theravada Buddhism still maintains this position as ‘genuine’ or ‘correct’ way of unfolding Buddhist concepts. Therefore, the answer to the above-mentioned question is yes, at least, in the Theravada point of view. Later Buddhist philosophers, though accepted the value of the four noble truths, gradually marginalised this view underscoring some other philosophical tenets of Buddha. Therefore, the answer is no. But we need to know, why and how.

Philosophical development

Five major philosophical movements arose over time to understand Buddhism.

1. Early Abhidharma phenomenology

2. Later Abhidharma realism

3. Madhyamaka nominalism

4. Yogacara idealism

5. Buddhist logical nominalism

Early Abhidharma (Pali, Abhidhamma) is the oldest attempt to systematise Buddhism based on early scriptures and foreshadow Theravada commentarial tradition. Abhidharma stands for the consistent scheme of non-provisional teachings of Buddha. Here the approach is mainly ‘phenomenological’ and without accepting ‘material substantiality’ with loyal to early teachings. How this movement ceased to function is still a baffling problem due to the dearth of data. But, in all likelihood with the influence of Vaiśeṣika and Sāṃkhya philosophies — both are Brahminic philosophies — the shape of the Abhidharma movement was significantly changed and, then, later Abhidharma movement emerged. This latter movement accepted ‘atomic realism,’ that is, the assumption of the existence of ultimate irreducible particles. The most famous variant of this movement is Sarvāstivāda Abhidharma flourished in North India circa 1st century BCE. Nevertheless, I believe that there were some other unsung versions also scattered in other parts of India and one of such versions migrated to Sri Lanka too with the Abhidhammāvatāra by Buddhadatta in 4th century CE, which dominated, more or less, subsequent commentarial literature in Sri Lanka. Realism, in most cases, goes hand in hand with the common-sense philosophy of early Buddhism. This new trend, thus, was warmly welcomed by the mass.

Madhyamaka nominalism was a direct response to the realistic interpretation of Buddhism and emerged in the 2nd century CE. They deconstruct the idea of ‘existence’ proving that ‘intrinsic existence’ is impossible and ‘dependent existence’ is not an existence per se. They interpret Buddhism on the basis that ‘reality’ is a linguistic or conceptual creation, so that even nirvana, the summum bonum of Buddhism, has no ‘realistic existence,’ that is, the spatiotemporal existence. They applied the term śūnyatā to explain the fact that everything is devoid of intrinsic existence.

While Madhyamaka Buddhism was being propagated in the southern parts of India, Yogacara idealism emerged in the northern part in 4 century CE. Their philosophy was likewise a direct response to realistic interpretation. Instead of conceptual or linguistic formations, Yogacara Buddhism concerns the epistemology. Our knowledge, they prove, doesn’t directly derive from the external world, which is impossible as well, but is tinged with our mind (that is, intellect). Understanding psychological influences on our knowledge will help to consider the reality and be detached from ‘conceptually constructed reality.’ For common people, knowledge comes forth as the production of subject and object, and these both, in turn, is a result of unreal imagination. Therefore, complete knowledge which sees reality is devoid of this subject-object construction, and it is the śūnyatā for them.

After the 8th century, we see only a fusion of these two philosophical currents, Yogacara and Madhyamaka. Concurrently, there was a syncretic movement initiated at 4th century CE by Buddhist logicians, which helped finally amalgamate various Buddhist philosophical trends, including Yogacara and Madhyamaka. They, in their climax, upheld a nominalist approach to Buddhism, but not the precise copy of Madhyamaka, for they establish it on Yogacara idealism. The ephemeral nature of the external world, though a matter of immediate perception, has no innate connection with its verbal representation. Therefore, language creates a practical reality which bears some connection to outside reality. This refined version continued to survive in India until Islamic invaders demolished Buddhism.

Philosophy at work

Saṃdhinirmocana-sutra, a Mahayana text, states three turning points of Buddha’s doctrine; four noble truths, Madhyamaka śūnyatā and Yogacara śūnyatā. The truth behind this exaggerated narration is to offer three fundamental frameworks, that is, realism, nominalism and idealism respectively, which are the consequences of a laborious effort of thousands of philosophers over two thousand years. These philosophical positions still are working in varying degrees in every Buddhist community. For instance, Zen Buddhism and Tibetan Buddhism have much emphasis on Madhyamaka nominalism. In Sri Lanka, there is escalating conflict among the mass and minor Buddhist academics on some interpretative issues. Realism, for example, initiated by Abhidharma movement continued to survive in India until 5th century CE. Thereafter, we rarely confront any Abhidharma text or philosophical treatise advocating realistic interpretations, mostly because other Buddhist philosophers constantly criticised them over idealist and nominalist foundations. Only from 5th century CE, the realism started flourishing in Sri Lanka and it is the ‘truth’ for common people yet today. Nirvana, for them, is something existing in reality and an arahant can literally ‘go’ there after death. Karma is a dynamic, invisible force determining their destiny. Heaven, hell and all other metaphysical entities related to Buddhism are real to them. In contrast to this realistic position of the mass, educated minority endeavours to interpret Buddhism either on phenomenological (based on early Abhidharma and scriptures) or nominalist foundation as they know that realism makes Buddha’s teachings naïve.

How these interpretations differ from each other is also interesting. Take, for example, anitya, impermanence. At the time of Buddha, all Brahminic philosophers understood ‘changing’ by this word. For them, everything is changing like the human body gets sick, becomes old and so on, except the soul (ātma), which is stable and invariant. Buddha redefining this prominent concept interprets that there is no such thing called ātma which is not subject to change. Those who favour realism also understand anitya means getting sick, ageing etc. (in Brahminic sense) and ultimately create a ‘pessimistic picture’ of reality. In Sri Lanka, for example, Buddhists contemplate anitya in funerals. For Madhyamaka nominalism, anitya means simply the rejection of ‘self-existence.’ If something exists by its own force, ‘changing’ is impossible to attribute to it. So, everything does not exist per se. Yogacara idealism understands anitya as a dependent nature, that is, depending on our mind. We imagine true or real things in our day to day life, but after serious contemplation, we understand their reality is a mind-made illusion, which implies that they are anitya. Both in Madhyamaka and Yogacara positions, anitya is neither pessimistic nor optimistic. It simply has nothing to do with value-based evaluations like pessimism or optimism. Not only fading of a lotus is considered anitya but also the blossom of the lotus. Logical nominalism defines the concept in this sense and for them what common people perceive as ‘existence’ of things is the ‘casual efficacy’ of things and it is the anitya too. Understanding anitya, even for Buddha, is not to see the world pessimistically, but to realise nothing is remaining in stationary.

Now I believe, the reader will understand how hard it is sometimes to answer some questions on Buddhism because we must know on which Buddhism we are dealing with.