The Fascist Next Door?

Nishitani Keiji and the Chūōkōron Discussions in Perspective

by Xiaofei Tu

“Something logically plausible may be psychologically uncongenial. Something theoretically defensible

may be historically indefensible.”
Joseph R. Levenson
 
Introduction

In this paper I address the alleged nationalistic, even fascistic, tendencies in the thought of the
Kyoto School philosophers, focusing on Nishitani's views expressed in the now notorious
Chūōkōron discussions. This topic has generated some hot debate in the scholarly circles both
in Japan and in the West, with much vehemence and rhetoric from both the defenders and
detractors of the Kyoto School. In this paper, I intend not to reiterate the accusations and
defenses on the two sides; rather, I hope to move the debate to a new direction with a two-fold
effort. First, I place Nishitani back in the historical, cultural and political ethos of his time by
drawing comparison to Yan Fu, a Chinese thinker who was active shortly after the Opium War.
Attempting a sympathetic understanding from the perspective of a Chinese, I believe I am able
to shed new light on Nishitani's wartime remarks and his thinking behind them.
Geographically, historically, and culturally, Japan is a close neighbor to China, hence the title of
this essay. Second, I proceed to question some presumptions of the critics of Nishitani.

The Chūōkōron Discussions

From November 1941 to November 1942 the widely respected journal in Japan Chūōkōron held
a series of three round table discussions with four young scholars from Kyoto Imperial
University: Nishitani Keiji, Kosaka Masaaki, Suzuki Shigetaka, and Koyama Iwao, and published
the transcripts. The topics of this series of discussions were 'The World-Historical Standpoint
and Japan,' 'The Ethics and Historicity of the East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere,' and finally
'The Philosophy of All-Out War.' Clearly, these purportedly scholarly discussions were inspired
by current events, i.e., the eventually mischievous war effort of Japan against China and the
Allied Forces. After the war an aura of infamy came to surround this event and the discussants
involved, which were denounced as symbols of the intelligentsia's cooperation with the
wartime Japanese regime. The critics saw the act of the aforementioned scholars as a thinly
disguised attempt to glorify the war, and to provide the philosophical underpinnings for
Japanese fascism. In their contribution to The Cambridge History of Japan, Tetsuo Najita and
H. D. Harootunian have the following to say about Nishitani and his discussion partners:

[The] group's central purpose was to construct what they called a "philosophy of world
history" that could both account for Japan's current position and disclose the course of future
action. But a closer examination of this "philosophy of world history" reveals a thinly disguised
justification, written in the language of Hegelian metaphysics, for Japanese aggression and
continuing imperialism. In prewar Japan, no group helped defend the state more consistently
and enthusiastically than did the philosophers of the Kyoto faction, and none came closer than
they did to defining the philosophic contours of Japanese fascism.[1]

Similar sentiments and opinions are found in the works of other prominent scholars such as
Bernard Faure.[2] Such sweeping generalizations and accusations seem to be unfounded when
we look at the relevant historical and intra-textual evidence. In the wartime Japanese political
climate, many Japanese intellectuals found themselves divided into either the camp of the ultra
rightwing nationalists or the ranks of the Marxists and anarchists. The Kyoto School
philosophers were viewed by their contemporaries as the 'middle-of-the-roaders'.[3] And by
virtue of their philosophical and political positions, they were assaulted by their enemies on
the two opposite ends of the political/ideological spectrum. After the war, Nishitani remarked,
'During the war we were struck on the cheek from the right; after the war we were struck on
the cheek from the left.' Indeed, at the time of their original publication, the Chūōkōron
discussions were extremely popular with young intellectuals facing military service precisely
because of their free thinking outlook and refusal to conform to the state ideology. The
intellectual independence and moral courage in these discussions spurred anger among the
extreme right demagogues, who charged, rightly we have to say, that these were 'disinterested
analysis of bystanders,' both 'seditious' and anti-war. Well known is the comment of a Japanese
military officer that the Kyoto School philosophers should, together with American and British
war prisoners, be rounded up and bayoneted.[4]

Moreover, according to the report of Horio Tsutomu, there was another layer of political
intrigue in the background of the event. The Kyoto School philosophers were contacted by the
Japanese Navy, the moderate force in the war machine, at a crucial point of time, – six months
before the outbreak of the hostilities between the United Sates and Japan – in a desperate
attempt at enlisting public opinion to check the belligerent Land Army in the midst of the
nation's militaristic craze. Indeed, the original topic for the first discussion was supposed to be
'how to avoid war (with the United Sates).' However, under the governmental censorship
routine to that time, any hint of criticism of the Land Army was expunged and the impression
left was a total support of the war effort.[5] Given the emerging evidence and full insights we
have gained in hindsight, the simplistic verdict that the Kyoto School was nothing more than a
handmaid to the ultra-militant forces becomes even more indefensible.

On the other hand, we have to recognize that certain content in these discussions is
nonetheless incompatible with the political sensibilities of the majority of today's readers. The
omnipresent government censors (along with self-censorship of the publisher under political
pressure) undoubtedly distorted the ways the discussants had wanted to present their ideas,
but this fact alone does not seem able to explain the whole problem away. The argument that
the discussants only interpreted the public opinions at the time rather than expressing their
own thought is flimsy too. By and large, some of Nishitani's most 'problematic' remarks have
not been sufficiently treated in counter critiques of Nishitani's critics.[6] In the following I will
focus on a portion of Nishitani's contribution to the discussions which has been under
scrutiny, and which, according to his critics, are supposed to reveal his nationalistic and pro-
war attitudes.

First, there are revelations from Nishitani's belief in the superiority of the East Asian and in
particular Japanese culture. For example, he argues that even the ancient Japanese culture was
'advanced' and blithely asserts; 'It is true that those who really study the culture of East Asia
admit that the only cultures that can rival those of Europe are the East Asian cultures.'[7] Next,
Nishitani glorifies Japan's medieval cultural achievements and nostalgically laments modern
Japan's urbanization and reliance on technology, following the suit of the West. While some
over-sensitive critics may see these 'anti-modern' and 'culturally nostalgic' tendencies to be
fascist-prone, these remarks are probably not the most damaging in the eyes of the average
reader. But then, we encounter real tests on our tolerance of haughty nationalistic tones.

Nishtani's discussion of 'world history' begins with neighboring Asian countries. Speaking
about the relation between Japan and China, Nishitani says:

The most basic issue is the 'China consciousness' of the Chinese, the consciousness of always
being the center of East Asia, and of Japan as having been educated through the grace of
Chinese culture. In such a situation, the main thing is somehow to make them see and to
realize that Japan is now the leader in the construction of the Greater East Asia of today, and
must be the leader as a matter of historical necessity.[8]

These comments in part reflect the long standing Japanese resentment toward the outside
attitude that regards Japan as a second fiddle player to the former political and cultural giant
China, and as a nation that is good at copying but short of creativity and originality.[9]
However, if the above opinion could be excusable for this reason, many people would find it
hard to come to the defense of Nishitani when he adopts an even more patronizing tone
regarding the Filipinos.[10] More disturbing to the contemporary political sensitivity, Nishitani
invokes the idea that the Japanese play the role of a Herrenvolk (master race), because of their
possession of 'moral energy.'[11]

For most readers, these utterances of Nishitani's have crossed certain boundaries. Even a
balanced scholar like James Heisig makes the judgment that these comments 'are unreflected
bias pure and simple.'[12] Quoting Ienaga Saburo, Jan van Bragt calls the same comments the
'tall talk of drunkards.'[13]

Nishitani continues to justify the war with China by saying:

The treatment of China up until now, seen from the outside has taken a form that can be
mistaken to some degree for imperialism … There was a kind of opacity. But in some sense that
was unavoidable given the extraordinary world situation and the stage of historical
development. But conduct that was interpreted from the outside as imperialistic, when viewed
from the present and its continuity with the present, has another, deeper significance.[14]

Conceding the ostensible blood-shedding and human sufferings of both nations, Nishitani
nevertheless insists that the war with China is an inevitable 'historical necessity,' because he
sees it as part of the role that Japan has to play in leading East Asia against Western
imperialism. He actually thinks Japan's military action has been protecting China from being
partitioned by the covetous Western powers. Not surprisingly, Nishitani blames Britain and the
United States for their colonialist adventures: 'There is no denying that along with the banner
of democracy, America parades a standpoint of ‘freedom' and the pursuit of self-interest.'[15]
Whether or not there may be a touch of truth in this exposé of the West's ulterior intentions,
Nishitani's criticism of Western colonialism seems too conveniently in concert with the
Japanese government's propaganda against its war enemies.

Now I discuss two touchy questions arising from Nishitani's remarks: First, what is Nishitani's
attitude to race? Second, what is his attitude to war? These questions have to be answered
based on an understanding of the Nishitanian jargons 'moral energy' and 'world history.'
Innocence by Association?

As the Japanese themselves are a 'colored people,' it is small wonder that the members of the
Chūōkōron discussions unanimously refuse the racist theory of Aryan supremacy. For
Nishitani, the purity of blood is not the first concern for a nation, rather, the mixing of blood
could be 'a good thing.'[16] The criteria in judging the worthiness of a nation are its creativity
and 'moral energy.' The Pacific war is justified as part of the effort of Japan, as a nation of
moral energy, to take the leadership role and forming a united front of the East Asian countries
against the invading West.

The idea of moral energy comes from Leopold Von Ranke, referring to not individual morality
or purity of blood, but power concentrated in the people culturally and politically. It is a
concept which, for today's readers, is almost endlessly elusive even woefully mysterious. How is
one supposed to identify it in a nation or culture and why is it important? The answer may
come from an unexpected direction. Here I would like to take a detour to look briefly at the life
and thought of a Chinese thinker, Yan Fu.

Yan Fu was a Chinese thinker and translator who lived at the turn of the 19th century.
According to his biographer Benjamin I. Schwartz, Yan was the first Chinese to systematically
study Western thought. Vividly feeling the military, social, cultural, and psychological impacts
that the encounter with the West had on China, Yan was obsessed with a single question: what
was the root cause of the Western might and China's weakness? Through a thorough study of
18th and 19th century European thought, he came to the conclusion that there were two sides
of the secret of European success that were necessary to bring China out of its backwardness.
One was the manifestation of energy, the other is the public spirit which discipline energy to
collective ends. Western individualism for him is only a tool to facilitate the gigantic cultural
drive leading to collective strength. At first blush, this seems to be a simplistic generalization,
or even a gross misunderstanding. However, at least some Western scholars have been
intrigued by Yan's interpretation. Louis Hartz remarks,

It is the genius of the foreign critic to bring to the surface aspects of thought implicit in the life
of the nation he studies but explicit for him because of the contrast supplied by his own
culture. It is a shock of self discovery which makes Halevy interesting to the English,
Tocqueville to the Americans. Yan Fu, from the angle of a culture which has not yet
experienced modernity, seizes in their work on a theme of collective energy which apart from
anything they said about 'individualism' and 'laissez faire,' reflected the movement of Europe
into the modern world.[17]

It seems not too far-fetched to view Nishitani's concept of moral energy as a similar attempt to
seek the secret of nations' success in their cultures. The difference is, with Japan's expedient
modernization and rise to power in the world arena at that time, Nishitani believed that he
could make a claim for the presence of such a cultural spirit in the Japanese people while Yan
had to call for the discovery of it in his fellow Chinese.[18]

In light of the above comparison, I wish to argue that Nishitani's seemingly excessive and self -
congratulatory cultural pride belongs to the attempt of Japanese intellectuals to come to terms
with its own modern history and all its contradictions, and is, in a sense, a psychological
compensation for an unconscious underdog self-identity. Nishitani bitterly complains about
the non- reciprocal relation between Japan/Asia and Europe in which the former has no
significance for the latter while the latter's impact on the former is formidable. However, for
him, things had begun to turn around with an emerging new consciousness of 'world history:'
a gigantic Hegelian historical progress with unmistakable necessity. This 'world history' begins
in the twentieth century, ushering in the collapse of the colonial systems, and at least the
formal, if not real, equality among nations.[19] Closely related is Nishitani's theory of 'moral
energy' which opens the possibility of viewing peoples on the basis of their cultural merits
instead of external, physical characteristics. For Nishitani, the awakening of the 'colored races'
should be an awakening to their own cultures. In reality, other Asian countries might not live
up to this 'historical task,' and Japan must assume a leadership role as a 'historical necessity.'
Theoretically however, Japan claims to be exemplary not because other Asian countries are
different and lower, but because it identifies a common plane of victimization and a common
destiny, so that the Japanese path should meet the needs of others. A point worth making is
that Nishitani sees the nation as an organic entity with a soul-like culture or national spirit, not
as the Weberian Herrschaftsverband: a dominating organization that claims the monopoly of
the legitimate use of physical force within a given territory.[20] Nishitani's romanticizing of
nation, obsolete as it might well be, is not to be mistaken for the statist worship for the nation
as the cold power machine.

Neither are Nishitani's seemingly war-happy remarks about the impossibility of perpetual
peace[21] as hideous as they appear. After all, 'enrich the country, strengthen the military,' was
the universal rallying cry of the Asian countries at his time (it was Yan Fu's slogan too).
Philosophically, Nishitani adopts a brutally realistic view of humans and the world, which
arguably comes from a mixture of Zen and the Hegelian philosophy of history. According to
this view, it might be said that ontological defections are embedded in the structure of human
existence. Violence and sufferings are an innate part of human life, and the progress of 'world
history' also has to be in the company of vices. The ethical implications of such a worldview is
certainly open to discussion. However, the alternative view that all human suffering can once
and for all be remedied by certain social and political arrangements seems not to be
corroborated by historical evidence. The moral high road claimed by such political ideologies
often proves to be self-righteousness and self-deception.

Alfred Whitehead put it well: A traveler, who has lost his way, should not ask, 'Where am I?'
What he really wants to know is; where are the other places? In all the political and social
unrest ensuing from opening the door to the West, Japan was the lost traveler; hence the need
for defining the world in order to redefine itself. Indeed, the very openness to Western ideas
requires the counterbalance of its own heritage. All this 'tall talk' about world history and the
aggressiveness in Nishitani's esteem of Japanese culture is a search for cultural self-identity in
a time of discontinuity and confusion.

Conclusion

Nishitani claims that Western democracy is profoundly self-contradictory, and that it is a

disguise for the West to expand its self-interests in the world. Time and again, we have seen
such charges reissued from radically different political quarters and they are well received or at
least tolerated in our public discourses (for example, some anti-war views of the current Iraqi
situation). What makes us uncomfortable is the fact that Nishitani formulates this criticism in
terms of a conflict between the West and the 'colored races.' On a different note, due to our
sensitivities to cultural diversity, we want to reject out of hand Nishitani's pejorative comments
about the Chinese and the Filipinos. However, for myself as Chinese, it seems hard to deny that
in the past fifty years, Japan has, so far, been more productive than China, certainly
economically and perhaps culturally also. Are Nishitani's remarks dishonorable or prophetic?

The problem lies less with Nishitani than with the drastic changes in the norms of our political
and moral discussions. Nowadays people criticize US foreign policies in terms of 'the
politicians' submission to corporate interests' and 'America's economic and ideological
hegemony;' while the less than satisfactory situation in China is said to have its causes in the
shortcomings of the political system and economical policies. In either case, any talk that hints
at 'race' and ethnically specific 'culture,' – conflicts between races and religions, culturally
facilitated economic growth, etc. – becomes suspect and unpopular. That is why we find that
Nishitani offends our taste. However, the problem is of course Nishitani could not have
predicted this cultural climate change and accommodated himself to our contemporary
sensitivities.

To place the debate in a broad perspective, we notice that the Kyoto School emphasizes the
central place of religious experience in its philosophy, the basic principles of Zen and Pure
Land Buddhism are spiritualized and put in Western religious-philosophical terminology,
while the institutional and practicing sides of Buddhism are downplayed. For their critics, this
is an 'ahistorical' reading of East Asian Buddhism, a religion that has its roots in ancient
feudalism.[22] The presumptions of the critics include a positivistic functionalism and a
Marxist ideological analysis, which exclusively see religion as weapons used by different social
groups in order to legitimize or contest the distribution of social, economic, and political
privileges. It is in this context that the Kyoto philosophers' political past is scrutinized. What is
questionable is that there has emerged a pattern in the works of these critics that promulgate a
dichotomy between agricultural/industrial, tradition/modernity, religion/reason, nostalgic/
forward looking, Fascism/democracy, and a homology among the former and latter groups of
values. It seems to me that these critics are mirroring the characteristics of their target. Are
these Marxism influenced authors not guilty of an ahistorical reading of Marxism? That is, a
historical, European originated political movement with a tainted track record has been
presented as a purely idealistic indignation against social injustice, and a universally valid spirit
of critique. The result is that the decontextualized Marxism of Western academics is hardly
recognizable by any ‘practicing' Marxist around the world, just as the lofty Buddhism of the
Kyoto School may not resonate with many Buddhists.

In the last analysis, I wish to argue that what we have had in the debate around the Chūōkōron
incident is a clash of categories, while what matter are those people, thoughts, and events that
remain uncategorized. To quote Russell McCutcheon's words in another context, and to turn
them around; the detailed investigations into the chronology of Nishitani's publications and
actions, the frenzied interpretative disputes over the key sentences in Nishitani's war-time
writings about Imperial Japan, cannot obscure the fact that ultimately our answer to this
question will be less a matter of fact than a matter of narrative, of the kind of story we choose
to tell. To have begun to ask questions such as these is in a sense to have answered them
already. It is in the assignment of context that one assigns meaning. To ascribe personal
innocence or culpabilities presupposes some sort of objective, trans-historical ethical standard
that they did or did not live up to. Ironically, such critics of Nishitani themselves border on
being totalitarian by forcing a single vision on us and not allowing alternatives.

Notes

1. Tetsuo Najita and H. D. Harootunian, 'Japanese Revolt against the West: Political and Cultural Criticism
in the Twentieth Century,' in Peter Duus, ed., The Cambridge History of Japan (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1993), 6: 711-774: 741-742.

2. See, for example, Bernard Faure, Chan Insights and Oversights.

3. Minamoto Ryoen. 'The Symposium on "Overcoming Modernity,"' in James W. Heisig and John C.
Marajdo, ed., The Rude Awakenings: Zen, the Kyoto School, and the Question of Nationalism: 204.

4. Horio Tsutomu. 'The Chuokoron discussions, Their Background and Meaning,' in ibid.: 289-291.

5. Ibid.

6. Graham Parkes. 'The Putative Fascism of the Kyoto School and the Political Correctness of the Modern
Academy,' in Philosophy East & West, July 1997, 47 (3): 305.

7. Nishitani, Keiji, The World-Historical Standpoint and Japan. Trans. by James W. Heisig: 7.

8. Ibid.: 26

9. Nishitani is by no means the only Japanese to express such a sentiment. Another well received
spokesperson of East culture, Kakuzo Okakura, has the following observation of China: 'The long woes of
his country have robbed him of the zest for the meaning of life. He has become modern, that is to say, old
and disenchanted. He has lost that sublime faith in illusions which constitutes the eternal youth and vigour
of the poets and ancients. He is an eclectic and politely accepts the traditions of the universe. He toys with
Nature, but does not condescend to conquer or worship her.' The Book of Tea (New York: Dover
Publications, 1964): 16.

10. The World-Historical Standpoint and Japan: 27.

11. Ibid. 36.

12. James W. Heisig. Philosophers of Nothingness: 206.

13. Jan van Bragt. 'Kyoto Philosophy, Intrinsically Nationalistic?' in Rude Awakenings, 239.

14. The World-Historical Standpoint and Japan: 23.

15. The World-Historical Standpoint and Japan. 45.

16. Ibid. 21.

17. Benjamin I. Schwartz. In Search of Wealth and Power: xi.

18. Another analogy between Yan Fu and Nishitani: Yan Fu expressly favored Taoism against the
Confucian absolutization of a determined social and political order. Yan Fu's philosophical Taoism points
to an ineffable inconceivable ultimate ground of reality which transcends and relativizes all determinate
orders and structures of reality. Nishitani's attraction to Buddhism stemmed from similar aversion to the
state sponsored Shintoism. In comparison to Yan's reappropriation of Taoism, we recall the elevated
position that the Buddhist notion 'emptiness' enjoyed in Nishitani's philosophical system.

19. The World-Historical Standpoint and Japan: 6.

20. Fred R. Dallmayr. G. W. F. Hegel: Modernity and Politics: 206.

21. The World-Historical Standpoint and Japan: 38.

22. See e.g. Robert Sharf. 'Zen and the Art of Deconstruction.' History of Religions. (Feb 94, Vol. 33 Issue
3,1994.) In current academic and public vocabulary, being 'ahistorical' is a scholarly error and also carries
ethical implications. The alleged anti-semitism in Mel Gibson's film The Passion of the Christ is said to be
the result of Gibson's 'ahistorical' reading of the Bible. The extreme Islam Militarism is reported as rooted
in an 'ahistorical' understanding of Islam teachings and history.

References

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