The New Human Revolution, vol. 5

By Daisaku Ikeda

Through this novelized history of the Soka Gakkai—one of the most dynamic, diverse, and empowering movements in the world today—readers will discover the organization's goals and achievements even as they find inspiring and practical Buddhist wisdom for living happily and compassionately in today's world. The book recounts the stories of ordinary individuals who faced tremendous odds in transforming their lives through the practice of Nichiren Buddhism and in bringing Buddhism's humanistic teachings to the world. This inspiring narrative provides readers with the principles with which they can positively transform their own lives for the better and realize enduring happiness for themselves and others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Independent Publishers Group
• Release date: May 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781946635174

Book preview

Trailblazing

THE SUN ROSE on the far horizon. But ahead lay a cold and barren spiritual wasteland, rampant with mistrust and hatred. The road that had to be forged was long and difficult. Yet he had set forth into that wasteland, advancing one step at a time as he cut his way through the inhospitable, untrodden terrain. Shin’ichi Yamamoto’s visit to Europe was a trailblazing journey, meant to open the door to peace and sow seeds of humanism.

On the evening of October 8, 1961, the day he had stood before the Berlin Wall, Shin’ichi and the others solemnly recited the sutra and chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo in his hotel room, offering deep prayers. Shin’ichi’s were infused with a powerful pledge to see Germany reunited and to bring about world peace.

Without fail, we must turn Berlin—now a symbol of Cold War division—into an icon of peace. This was Shin’ichi’s fervent resolve.

All the tragedies of the modern world had ultimately been caused by human beings. It was people, therefore, who had to change. Shin’ichi had embarked on his struggle for peace with a deep sense of responsibility for the planet’s future.

By the time he finished chanting, beads of perspiration covered his brow. After chanting, Shin’ichi and the other leaders talked. Having witnessed firsthand the tragic situation in Berlin, the leaders were left with a tangle of thoughts and emotions. Somewhat distressed, one of them shared his dismay at the suffering of the citizens of Berlin. Another expressed pessimism about the city’s future.

Today when you stood before the Brandenburg Gate, one leader asked, you voiced your conviction that in thirty years’ time the Berlin Wall will no longer be standing. Do you have some specific plan for bringing this about?

Shin’ichi smiled. No, I have no special prescription. But to melt the Cold War’s wall of ice, I’ve decided to pursue a course of dialogue. I feel it’s important to engage leaders from both sides, East and West, in earnest discussion, as ordinary fellow human beings. Even someone wielding the greatest power and authority is still just a human being.

Hearing this, the others looked somewhat ashamed at the shallowness of their own perspectives.

Didn’t President Toda often say that the only reason people have trouble talking with those in authority is because they tend to view them in terms of their position? Shin’ichi asked. "In the eyes of Buddhism, each person is an ordinary human being. And to the extent that they are human, they all have within them a desire for peace. Our job is to appeal to and awaken that desire.

Why is it that the Eastern and Western blocs glare hostilely at each other while pursuing an ever-escalating nuclear arms race? Simply put, it’s because they’ve fallen victim to mistrust. We need to transform mutual mistrust into mutual understanding. To this end, it is crucial to embark on a course of dialogue and create bonds of trust among people.

THE OTHER LEADERS listened earnestly as Shin’ichi looked directly at each one. Also important is how to foster heart-to-heart ties among people of different nations, he said. "People are the basis of any social system or state. The most enduring foundation for peace can be laid when trust and understanding—which transcend ideological and national barriers—are nurtured among people. To accomplish this, cultural exchange in such fields as education and the arts is invaluable. Learning about the music, dance, and traditions of other nations and cultures helps foster closer understanding and bonds among people. Culture essentially has no boundaries.

From now on, I not only intend to meet with many international leaders in different fields, but I am determined to open the way for peace by promoting cultural exchange.

Hearing this, Shoichi Tanida, the Soka Gakkai young men’s leader, asked, Is it really possible for us to accomplish these things as private citizens and not as politicians?

You’re concerned that leaders of nations will refuse to meet with us, aren’t you?

Yes, Tanida admitted, somewhat reluctantly.

Well, there’s no need to worry, I assure you, Shin’ichi said, his voice brimming with confidence. "Once they know that countless ordinary people have renewed their lives by joining the Soka Gakkai and that our organization has become a great constructive force in society, discerning leaders will definitely show a deep interest. In fact, they probably already are interested.

"So it’s only natural to assume that world leaders would like to meet with Soka Gakkai representatives and hear what we have to say. I also think that our being private citizens will allow us to engage such dignitaries in very frank discussions, without their having to be concerned about political positioning or protecting their national interests. My aim is to hold warm and open dialogues, as friends and fellow human beings, and together search for a way to build a better future.

"If we talk with leaders who are concerned for people’s happiness and desire peace, then I am confident we can transcend position or ideology and create mutual understanding.

Many Japanese politicians would dismiss this as hopeless idealism or ridicule me as a naive romantic. But let them laugh if they want to. We’ll never know if it’s possible unless we try. The choice we have to make is an important one: either let the hostile conditions of the Cold War drag on indefinitely, with people forever living in fear of potential nuclear annihilation, or become serious about the challenge of creating a lasting peace.

THE BERLIN NIGHT deepened. Shin’ichi’s vibrant voice, ablaze with a pledge for peace, resounded through the room.

I will do it, he said. It will be a long struggle, but I will patiently work to open the way, aiming at twenty or thirty years from now. The youth who follow in my footsteps must blaze this trail of peace and friendship even further, to all corners of the globe, and so make the twenty-first century an age of human triumph. This is my conviction.

Everyone listened quietly, their expressions giving away surprise at his passionate resolve.

A short while later, sandwiches and drinks ordered from room service arrived. Shin’ichi settled for a glass of orange juice, while insisting that the others have beer if they wished.

Well, then, let’s drink a toast to Berlin’s future, he said. After all, today marks a fresh start toward peace.

Everyone raised their glasses to celebrate this new departure, but only Shin’ichi, perhaps, truly appreciated its significance.

The conversation grew increasingly animated. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was already one in the morning and said: It’s now nine in the morning in Japan. Would one of you mind calling the Soka Gakkai Headquarters and passing on the news that today we stood in front of the Berlin Wall?

Kiyoshi Jujo lifted the telephone receiver and asked the operator to place an international call. Once they were finally connected with the Soka Gakkai Headquarters, each person took a turn at the receiver, conveying the group’s recent activities.

Shin’ichi, not surprisingly, was feeling exhausted and asked Dr. Eiji Kawasaki, who was accompanying them, to give him a vitamin shot.

The last time Shin’ichi had made this request—in Copenhagen, Denmark—Kawasaki hadn’t had any medical equipment or intravenous vitamins with him. After that, however, he had made a point of purchasing the necessary items in the event that Shin’ichi might request them again.

Lying face up on the bed, Shin’ichi cried out in pain as Kawasaki gave him the injection in his left arm: Ouch! That shot really hurt.

It hurt that much? That’s strange, Kawasaki said, looking puzzled, apparently wondering what he could have done wrong. Shin’ichi burst out laughing.

Some doctor you are! he said. A good many nurses are far better at giving injections than you are. Granted, Mr. Kawasaki, your medical knowledge is vast, but I’m not sure you know the first thing about people’s feelings.

Ah, well, yes, you see, my specialty is more in the line of research than in clinical medicine.

SHIN’ICHI CONTINUED his gentle chiding: "For example, when giving someone an injection, it’s customary to say something like: ‘This may hurt a little. Just relax and it’ll be over soon.’ Or, ‘Please brace yourself for a moment.’ Doing so reassures people and allows them to ready themselves for a bit of pain.

Since you’ve acquired the mission to be a leader of kosen-rufu in Europe, from here on, Mr. Kawasaki, you’ll need to become an outstanding physician of faith as well as an excellent doctor of life, committed to curing people’s suffering. To achieve this, it’s important to become an expert on human beings and show the greatest sensitivity to people’s feelings and emotions. In the world of faith, you have to be a clinician rather than a researcher.

An outstanding physician of faith? That’s going to be a lot harder than curing people’s physical illnesses, Kawasaki murmured, looking serious.

His endearing earnestness made Shin’ichi smile.

There’s no need to worry. Since both medicine and Buddhism are founded on compassion—that is, the spirit to relieve people’s suffering and impart peace of mind—I have full confidence that Dr. Kawasaki, Shin’ichi said, with special emphasis on the word doctor, will come through with flying colors. As long as you have a firm determination and make practical efforts, you’ll become a superb doctor of faith.

Kawasaki was now smiling too.

By the time everyone left Shin’ichi’s room, it was already after one thirty. Shortly after six thirty, the group left the hotel and boarded a flight back to Düsseldorf, from there traveling about twenty miles by car to the historic German city of Cologne on the upper reaches of the Rhine. They were to visit the factory of Klöckner-Humboldt-Deutz AG, a leading German diesel engine and machine-tool maker headquartered there.

The weather in Cologne was fine and clear, as it had been in Düsseldorf. The beautiful blue sky seemed to embrace the city, which sprawled along the west bank of the Rhine. The factory manager warmly welcomed them and led them on a tour of the facilities. When they finished, he told them: Here we have about thirty thousand employees, including some twelve hundred trainees from Italy, India, Greece, Spain, Africa, and South America. But unfortunately, we don’t have one person from Japan.

When Shin’ichi heard this, he thought it was time for Japanese youth, too, to venture out to all parts of the world.

SHIN’ICHI AND THE others had set time aside after their factory tour to see some of Cologne’s historic buildings. The most impressive of these was the Cologne Cathedral. With its soaring twin spires, it was known as a masterpiece of German Gothic architecture.

Shin’ichi was already planning the Soka Gakkai’s next construction project to follow the completion of the Grand Reception Hall. His thoughts were focused on realizing the dream of his mentor, Josei Toda, to build a Grand Main Temple on the head temple grounds. By visiting and inspecting various buildings during his travels, Shin’ichi hoped to glean some architectural hints for the Grand Main Temple, so that it might become an edifice of international renown.

In the evening, the group dined at a Chinese restaurant with some directors of the company whose factory they had visited earlier. Shin’ichi presented his hosts with copies of the English-language book The Soka Gakkai, which detailed the organization’s activities and basic philosophy.

The Soka Gakkai, he explained, "is an organization that upholds faith in the quintessential Buddhist teaching known as Nichiren Buddhism. We are committed to realizing world peace and human happiness by cultivating the realm of the human heart and of life itself by means of the humanistic philosophy of Buddhism. Since the end of the war, the German and Japanese people have worked hard to rebuild their countries with the hope of ushering in a new age of democracy.

"What do we need to create a truly democratic era? A philosophy that supports the inherent dignity and equality of all people. If we are to secure real liberty and freedom, we need a philosophy that teaches people self-discipline so that they will not be enslaved by their desires, and independence of mind and spirit so that they will not acquiesce meekly to tyrants.

We pursue this humanistic philosophy, put it into practice in our lives, and share it with others in society. Already in Japan we have two million families who are leading happy lives as a direct result of these Buddhist teachings. They are making dedicated contributions to society as a driving force for the creation of a genuinely democratic age.

The directors listened intently, registering obvious surprise. When they had been contacted about a delegation from a Buddhist organization called the Soka Gakkai wishing to visit one of their factories, they had imagined its members lived in a mountain retreat somewhere cut off from society and spent all their time in quiet meditation.

Meeting the delegates in person, however, the directors found them brimming with dynamic commitment to build a new society. Moreover, they were spearheading a movement that was supported by some two million families in Japan. The Soka Gakkai’s reality, the company directors realized, was completely different from their preconceptions of what a Buddhist group was like. This seemed to intrigue and interest them all the more.

When the meal was served a short time later, they bombarded Shin’ichi with questions.

WHAT EXACTLY does your Buddhism teach? "All of you, being German, are probably familiar with the famous scene in Goethe’s Faust, where Dr. Faust attempts to translate the opening words of one of the New Testament gospels from the original Greek," Shin’ichi began.

"His first attempt at the translation reads ‘In the beginning was the Word,’ but this does not sit well with him. Next, he tries ‘In the beginning was the Sense.’ And then ‘In the beginning was the Force’—but he’s not satisfied with these translations either. Finally, in a flash of inspiration, he translates the passage as ‘First there was the Deed,’ and at last he is content.¹ Deeds, after all, are what matter most.

This is precisely what Buddhism teaches—human conduct, deeds and actions, or how human beings should live. Buddhism is a philosophy that sets forth the means by which people can become happy and lead more humane lives.

Shin’ichi had cited Faust for his German hosts because he thought it would be easy for them to grasp the essence of Buddhism through a story they were all familiar with.

What is the Soka Gakkai trying to accomplish with this Buddhism?

Smiling, Shin’ichi nodded and replied immediately: "Ours is a movement to awaken each individual, to bring about a profound inner transformation—a ‘human revolution’ in people’s lives. Human beings are very complex and diverse. Moreover, the human heart is constantly changing. One moment, we may be in the heights of rapture, and the next, in the depths of suffering or seething with anger. People are capable of love and compassion and will even lay down their lives to save others, yet they are also capable of cruelty, hatred, and envy, of dominating others and wantonly taking life. While human beings are the perpetrators of wars and endless destruction, they are also the architects and builders of peace. In other words, people are the basis of everything; they are the foundation of social development.

Our movement is an endeavor to illuminate and treasure the life of each individual, to help people develop their inherent good, to bring forth their positive creativity, and to forge indomitable selves that are not at the mercy of their desires or environment, selves undefeated by anything. We call this process ‘human revolution.’

Shin’ichi had hardly used any Buddhist terminology. This was mainly out of consideration for the interpreter, a Japanese living in Germany who had virtually no knowledge of Buddhism. Moreover, Shin’ichi believed that unless they could discuss Buddhism without resorting to complex terms, they would be unable to spread Nichiren Buddhism throughout the world.

ANOTHER DIRECTOR asked Shin’ichi: "Just now, you used the expression the humanistic philosophy of Buddhism. But Europe also has a tradition of humanism. How is Buddhist humanism different?"

That’s a very astute question, Shin’ichi replied. "They are the same in that both respect and value the human being. One difference, however, is that Buddhism does not regard human beings as masters of the earth destined to conquer and subjugate nature and all life. Instead, it views the universe as a single living entity, of which humans are only a small part—a microcosm within the macrocosm, so to speak. Buddhism perceives human beings and all other life, as well as the environment and phenomena surrounding them, as linked in a web of mutually interdependent and harmonious relationships, all of which serve to support and maintain life.

"What would happen if human beings, out of their arrogance in believing themselves to be masters of the planet, were to use their vast technological knowledge to level all our forests, drive all animals into extinction, pollute the oceans, and destroy our natural environment? It would then be very difficult for people to sustain their existence.

One characteristic of Buddhist humanism, therefore, is that it does not polarize relationships into such adversarial pairings as ‘us’ and ‘them,’ or human beings versus the environment—us against our surroundings, including all other animals and plants. Buddhist humanism views everything as interrelated and seeks to create human happiness based on harmonizing these relationships. In this respect, Buddhism could perhaps be called a kind of cosmic humanism.

Impressed with this explanation, the director who asked the question said: I have a friend who is an ecologist. It seems to me that what you just said about our relationship with nature closely resembles recent findings in ecological research. My friend expresses similar views to those you do, President Yamamoto.

Is that right? I think that as scientific research continues, it will increasingly bear out the validity of Buddhist principles. Buddhism and science do not in any way contradict each other. If anything, Buddhism is capable of properly directing science toward contributing to human happiness.

The friendly yet earnest discussion continued, covering education and the arts. When the topic turned to music, Shin’ichi said: Songs, I believe, express people’s aspirations, as well as the nature of the times in which they live. To convey to you the Soka Gakkai’s spirited commitment to establishing peace, why don’t we sing one of our songs for you?

His proposal was greeted with enthusiastic applause.

THE GROUP CHOSE to sing a Soka Gakkai favorite, The Song of Dawn:

Young blood surges

Now dawn has come …

When they finished, loud applause filled the room.

What a powerful song! the Germans exclaimed. Now we’re going to sing something for you!

The group of executives sang a German naval hymn. Upon finishing, one of them explained: We sang a song of the German navy, but we don’t intend it as a song of war. Through this song, we wanted to express our hopes for rebuilding our country. Please don’t misunderstand.

No, I understand very well, Shin’ichi said. I can sense your determination to work for the peace and prosperity of Germany.

Warm smiles arose all round.

Next, the group from Japan sang Moon Over a Ruined Castle. Then, as though not to be outdone, two in the German group stood up to sing Rose on the Heath by Schubert. It seemed they were in the midst of a song competition between Germany and Japan. They sang on and on, both sides now feeling right at home with one another. A warm atmosphere pervaded, as if they had all been friends for ages.

After the dinner, the factory manager made a speech on behalf of the company directors: "Today, we’ve had our first fair weather in Cologne in a long time. And not only did we hear a very meaningful explanation of Buddhism by President Yamamoto, we also spent a very warm and amicable time together. I can’t help thinking that President Yamamoto has brought the sunshine along with him to Cologne.

Through this encounter, I have not only gained courage and hope for the future but a greater understanding of Japan as well. I would like to work with all of you to further the exchange between our two nations. Thank you very much for everything today.

Firm handshakes were exchanged, then Shin’ichi and his colleagues left Cologne and drove back to Düsseldorf.

It had been Shin’ichi’s first opportunity to discuss Buddhism in any depth with German people. He deeply sensed that they were sincerely seeking its teachings, and he was now further convinced it was possible for people of any race or nationality to transcend differences and understand and empathize with one another.

THE NEXT DAY, October 10, Shin’ichi and his party left Düsseldorf in West Germany and made their way to the Dutch city of Amsterdam, renowned for its many canals.

The fine weather continued.

The group would be spending only one night in Amsterdam, and in the short time available they had to shop for furnishings for the Grand Reception Hall. This left them no time for sightseeing. Just before their departure the following morning, however, they managed to squeeze in a boat ride on the canal, which took them to a wharf overlooking the port.

Shin’ichi’s companions on this trip were mainly youth and included Shoichi Tanida, the young men’s leader, and Akira Kuroki and Fumiaki Sugai, two other key young men’s leaders. With their growth and development in mind, Shin’ichi strove to spend as much time talking with them as he possibly could.

Shin’ichi looked out at ships from all around the world that were berthed at the port and said: "All right, I have a question for you. When Commodore Perry² sailed his ‘black ships’ into the waters off Uraga (present-day Tokyo Bay) in the Edo period, what language did he use to communicate with the Japanese?"

Well, since he came demanding that Japan open its ports, I would imagine he brought an interpreter who could speak Japanese, Tanida said. In other words, I think communications would have been conducted in Japanese.

What about you, Mr. Kuroki? Shin’ichi asked. What do you think?

No, I’m rather inclined to think they spoke English.

And you, Mr. Sugai?

Yes, I think it was English too.

Well, I’m afraid you’re all wrong, Shin’ichi said with a smile. "It was Dutch. Certainly, visits to Japanese shores by a number of English ships had sparked some discussion on the importance of English, but in seclusionist Japan, the only Western language people had been allowed to learn was Dutch.